#7 bc... trees. lol

[a-blip-of-billdip]

i feel like ive posted this before but fuckkk i need to write a billdip hunger games au so badlyyyyy

[guinevereslancelot]

just ordered some suspiciously cheap plants <3

[gyuswhore]

Never Shall We Die (1)

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

PAIRING: kwon soonyoung x reader

PLAYLIST: right here!

pirate lingo glossary (pls refer!)

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

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

WORD COUNT [full fic]: 48.1k

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

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

masterlist

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

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

HOSHI’S BOOT IS STUCK in the ground. 

No, that’s a branch. 

Or is it a plank? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hoshi needs to start thinking more often.

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

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

“Hm.”

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

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

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

Or does it?

“Who wants to steal a ship?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You recognise the frazzled looking soldier at your door. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No. You have one more option. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“W-what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You wait with baited breath. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What?

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

Hoshi. Hoshi. Hoshi. 

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

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

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

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

This was bad. Very bad.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How are you so sure?” you spit.

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

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

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

This was life, the most terrifying nightmare of all. 

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

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

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

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

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

There’s a pause. 

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

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

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

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

If it’s his ship that he wants…

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

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

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

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

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

“I can help you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You gulp as discreetly as possible.

“I want something in exchange.”

He raises his eyebrows, staring at you to continue. 

“I want you to kill my father.”

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

“I want you to kill my father.”

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

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

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

Is he about to cut your hands off?

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

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

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

“What?”

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

“I’m being serious.”

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

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

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

“I’ll protect you.”

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

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

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

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

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

“And your conclusion is to eliminate him.”

“I don’t have another choice.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So he was considering it. 

“But you’re the captain.”

“And?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I did.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“And if I led you astray?”

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

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

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

“So I’ve heard.”

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

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

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

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

He lets out a big sigh, “Follow me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How do you reckon we go about that?”

“What message have you given the Admiral?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Almost?” he questions.

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

“He’ll be there. I’m sure of it.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Captain! One of the—oh.” 

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

Your instinct forces you to take a slow step backwards. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then he’s gone. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You just saved his life.

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

“Where did you find this?” Jun asks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Should we—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But—”

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

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

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

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

“Not even an inkling?”

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

“But?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How did you shake him off last time?”

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

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

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

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

“Portwater?” 

“Too far.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There was something you wanted from him. 

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

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

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

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

But then again, were you a captive anymore?

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

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

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

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

A kid. He was a child. 

“I…yeah I’d never done it before.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

So you pulled the trigger. 

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

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

“I know.”

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

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

“I want to learn to use a knife.”

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

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

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

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

“Seemed pretty alright with that revolver.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hasry. Right. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Knife?” Chan asks, confused. 

“Miss princess wants to learn to fight—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ten coin.”

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

“I’ll do seven!” 

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

"I don’t have coin,” you rasp. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Princess?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you alright?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you feel better now?”

“A little,” you answer. 

“Maybe a weapon can help.”

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

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

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

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

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

He smirks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come on, find a pace,” he grunts. 

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

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

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

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

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

Oh. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I keep going because I live without regret.”

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

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

You remain silent. 

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

Sighing, you ask him, “Why?”

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

“That insinuates you think before you act.”

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

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

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

“You’ve looked into my eyes?” 

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

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

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

Never turn your back to your opponent, my ass. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

That could’ve been your throat.

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

That could’ve been your throat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

One deep breath, a slow exhale.

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

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

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

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

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

You just pushed Chan overboard. 

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

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

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

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

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

You make your way over, crouching beside Chan sheepishly. 

“Sorry about that, got carried away.”

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

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

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

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

Hoshi pushed him into the water. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s nostalgic, and you hate it. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Make me what? you grind. 

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

“Nothing,” he says, to your surprise. 

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

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

[madamechrissy]

Up in The Air

♡ ♡ Pairings ♡ ♡ Suguru Geto x Fem Reader

♡ ♡ Warnings ♡ ♡ MDNI- Cunnilingus and fingering, and a lot of Suguru eating reader out bc... it's headcanon Sugu loves to eat it lol.

♡ ♡ Word Count ♡ ♡ 7,657

♡ ♡ Summary ♡ ♡ You have been jilted at the altar by your groom, Mahito, who has led you on for years. Your best friends, Maki and Yuta, suggest to go on this Honeymoon alone, to get away and find yourself again. On the plane ride, you run into a gorgeous man on a business trip, who holds your hand when you say that you're terrified of planes, Suguru Geto. You all fall into easy conversation, and there's chemistry, he makes you feel better than you had in a long time. You think to ask his number, when he realizes that his room has fallen through. Well, you have a big honeymoon suite, and you suggest he stays with you. What can go wrong?

Chapter 2 - Masterlist- Playlist

Chapter 3

You stretch, waking up with the most beautiful view, sunlight streaming in, you sit up and see the ocean outside, the bright sun, the breeze swaying the trees. It is absolutely stunning… and you’re here… With Suguru Geto, at the thought of that alone you hop up, checking your reflection in the mirror, adjusting your top.

You smooth out your hair, brushing your teeth and washing your face in the bathroom mirror, and your eyes… they’re glittering. There’s life in them, life you had not seen in so long. You feel better, you feel so hopeful, and it’s such a new and foreign feeling that it’s hard to take.

You peek out, and don’t see him, your heart falters a moment, but all his things are there, so you breathe easy. Your fear of abandonment is hard to handle. You go and find your phone, checking on texts from Maki and your mom, updating them and snapping pictures. You tell Maki about Suguru, she demands a picture, you muse on how you’ll do that later…

There’s a message from him.

Your stomach flip flops.

Suguru: Headed to do work things… wish I could just lounge by the beach. You totally should. Dinner at 7?

You squeal, you fucking squeal. Are you fifteen again?

You: That sounds perfect! Where should we go?

…

He’s typing!

“Fuck…”

You nibble your lower lip.

Suguru: There's this little restaurant by the marina that is supposed to have the best seafood. Do you like seafood?

You: I am down for that! Yummy!

Suguru: You are.

You’re flushing, sitting down for this, so nervous… was he flirting with you? Fuck, what even was this? Someone desiring you, someone complimenting you, and he happens to be gorgeous. And his fingers…

Welp.

Your own tremble as you type.

You: You don’t know if I am yet.

Did you just say that? You nibble on your nail nervously, watching the three dots wiggling, freaking out. You take a shaky breath, wondering if that was too far, if it was too suggestive, if…

Suguru: I have a feeling you are. Taste yourself and tell me. If you remember those lessons.

You fall backwards on the couch, covering your face, you’re dying. “Fuck, I need advice.” You call Maki. “Maki, I need you!”

“Oh my god, tell me!”

“Okay… you alone?”

“Just with Yuta. What’s up?”

“Oh god, he can’t hear this, take me off speaker!”

“Okay let me walk out… alright, what is it?”

“Maki… okay… this guy is the dude you said was hot at the airport.”

“What!”

“Yes and… okay… he got me off.” Maki is squealing now too, you laugh, breathlessly. “Nothing went too far. He just touched me…”

“Oh my god. I’m so happy for you! Just marry him?”

“Maki it’s been two days, chill. Okay, so, he wrote me this.” You screenshot the message, and Maki gasps.

“Ooh, he’s fucking sexy too. Bitch! Okay, snap him a pic of your-”

“Maki, no!”

“Trust me.”

“I can’t!”

“Oh gosh… then, finger yourself and taste yourself? We are really being super close right now, you know.”

“No kidding.” You’re shaking nervously, thighs pressing together. “Okay, just tell him I taste… good? The fuck.”

“Yep, if you won’t do the pic. Hmm, wear a cute bikini and take a sexy pic!”

“I don’t know how!”

“Oh gosh. Video chat.” You get on with her now, flushed as can be, Maki is grinning. “You look like you got off.”

“Oh god.” You cover your mouth, laughing, but then you ease your hand down, his words getting you. “Maki, I really like him, and this is stupid fast.”

“Just roll with it. Okay, put me down somewhere.” You do so. “Now, get on your knees. Perfect, arch those tits out. Now, pick me up, hold me up high. Not that high, yep there. Push em together. That’s the shot!”

“How do you know all this?” You ask, giggling again.

“Don’t ask.” She rolls her eyes with a smirk. “Get to it, girl scout.”

“Wait, what do I say with it?”

“Say… that you wanna know if it’s cute.”

“Okay, bet. I love you!”

“Love you too. Kisses!” She ends the call, and you nervously run to get on a bathing suit, finding the pretty pink one she had packed for you. You slide it on, and get another text.

Suguru: Fuck, was that too forward?

Shit!

You go take a bunch of photos, sliding through each one, you end up sending three you like to Maki, asking her to pick. She sends back her favorite, and you flush at how your breasts are on full display. You take several breaths, before sending it to him then.

You: I was getting in my bikini, oh my gosh no, not too forward. I totally kissed you on a plane? So I think there’s no such thing.

You: What do you think? Is it cute?

Suguru: Fuck.

You’re giggling now, and then you go to the bed, sitting nervously, leaning back and cautiously running a hand down your tummy, into the waistband of the bikini bottoms, finding your clit, pressing up. You gasp at it, at something that used to feel so wrong, but now, with Suguru’s help it felt good. So good. Not as good as his fingers, of course, but…

You nervously taste yourself, and it’s sweet and tangy, you are surprised by it, and feel yourself heat up, imagining him tasting you. Now you’re stupidly wet again, something that has been going on since you met him. You struggle to compose yourself, picking back up the phone.

Suguru: You look so good.

You smile.

You: Thank you!! Okay… um, I taste good.

“Fuck… I just did that?” You cover your face, sinking back into the pillows, your cunt is slick, aching, just from the thought of him. You’re having fun, for the first time in so long.

The phone blings, and you eagerly pick it up, rolling on your tummy and nibbling on your nail, swiping it open to read it.

Suguru: I am now hard in a meeting with a bunch of dudes. This is awkward.

You snort in laughter.

You: That’s your own fault! You wouldn’t let me take care of that.

Suguru: I’ll be fine. Okay, I’ll see you tonight… and maybe I will find out if you’re telling the truth.

You: Maybe you will. Okay see you soon!

Your entire body is overheated at this point, the cool water sounds more and more inviting. You throw on a cover up and some shades, grab your sunblock and your things, and go to nibble on something downstairs. You notice some men there are looking at you, some have flirted, and it’s flattering maybe, that you’re getting noticed, but you already have no eyes for anyone.

You may be foolish, but you are too eager to see Suguru again than anything, and even if it led to nothing, for the moment he would be all you would focus on. You were a one person girl, even if the last person was total trash, it did not change that for you.

The sand is warm beneath your feet as you stroll along the shore, your pretty room visible as you turn back to see. The waves are crashing rhythmically against the shore, the prettiest bright blue waters, warm against your feet. You find a quiet spot under a palm tree, spread out your towel, and begin to slather on the sunblock, turning on your little bluetooth speaker.

You pop on music, then lay back, letting the sun bathe your skin, it feels so nice and warm, so comfortable. The salty air carries the scent of the ocean, you inhale it, feeling so peaceful, hearing the sounds of the waves and the birds mixing with your favorite music. You had forgotten what it felt like to be so relaxed, to feel so excited about something.

The day drags on leisurely, and soon you head back, and peek in the mirror, you have a pretty glow from the sun, just a little red on your cheeks and nose. You have about an hour or so to get ready for your date with Suguru. You’re nervous, but the excitement is bubbling in your stomach, so you shower, then blow dry your hair, and start to put on makeup.

After getting dolled up, in your towel still, you go over to the dresser, heart fluttering as you peer through all the lingerie. Fuck. Which one?

He mentioned the white one, so you start putting it on, the white lace so delicate and pretty, and it reveals everything, the color of your nipples, the apex of your thighs, hugging your curves. There are little straps along your breasts, pushing them up, and garters attached. You have never seen yourself look so hot.

You decide to slide on a pretty, thin white dress, perfect for the weather, it gave Marilyn vibes, a halter, cinched in skirt, accentuating everything, and there is a hint of that lacy lingerie. You eagerly peek at the time, it’s a little before seven, and you hear him walk in now, closing the door behind him quietly.

Shit.

“Hey!” You come out of the room to greet him, nervously fidgeting with your hands in front of you, his lips part, his chocolate eyes sliding down your body, caressing it as if it were his very hands. Goosebumps rise everywhere they touch.

“You look amazing.” He says softly, walking to you, holding out his hands. You take them and he makes you spin, whistling, you giggle. “Just gorgeous.”

“You’re too sweet to me. Thank you, Suguru.” You look down shyly, he tilts your chin up, you are breathless, the look on his face so entranced, mirroring your own.

“Let me get ready real quick? I already got reservations.” You nod, smiling, you can’t stop yourself from smiling actually, even if you try to come down to Earth, it’s not working well.

“Perfect! Go right ahead.” He dips into the room, then the bathroom, and you take a selfie for Maki, who replies back with a bunch of heart eye emojis.

After a few minutes, he comes out, dressed more casually than his three piece suit, he had a short sleeve button down, light blue, that revealed much of the corded muscles of his arms. He wore slacks that hung looser over his hips, and your eyes swallowed him in, until they got back up to his face, his hair was fully up, in some little knot, but some fell over his forehead.

“I’d like to see your hair down.” You tease, coming up to him and brushing his hair back. He smirks.

“So bold!”

“I am, huh?”

“I…” He clears his throat, a little pink on his cheeks. “I really liked that picture, I wish I was just on the beach with you.”

You’re blushing too. “That would have been lovely! Does this scare you, Suguru, how easy this feels?” You murmur, holding his hand. His tenses, and you meet his gaze, seeing his jaw clench a bit.

“Yeah. It’s scary as fuck. I’m trying not to look into it too much but, it’s pretty comfortable with you.” He exhales, picking your hand up, kissing it.

“Should I just enjoy it, not look too much into this either?” You ask softly, and he tilts his head a bit.

“You should feel whatever you feel. Don’t hold back just to not scare me away or something. I’m not easily frightened, mind you. If you knew my friends you would understand.” He smirks.

“Maybe I’ll meet them? Fuck, that’s stupid.” You ease back, turning, but he snatches your wrist, coming up behind you. Your pulse races.

“You never know. You might.” His voice is husky.

“You know how to make me feel better.” You smile sadly back at him, as his hard chest is pressed against your back, warmth emanating from him.

“You worry too much.” He kisses the side of your head, at your temple, your eyelashes flutter close in bliss.

“I really do. Sorry-”

“I wonder if I spanked you every time you say that if you’ll stop.”

Fuck you’re wet again.

“Or… if you’d do it to get spanked.” He snorts a bit in laughter, and you glare back at him now.

“You’re cheeky.” You poke at him, turning, he grins.

“A bit. Come on, we can actually just walk there, it’s across the beach just a bit.” You nod, sliding on some glittery sandals, snatching up your purse. “Oh and I’m buying remember?”

“I do! Buying me drinks too?” You wink at him, he grins, and you all step out, arm in arm, walking to the elevator.

“Of course, I’m a gentleman after all.” You’re alone in the elevator now, your mind goes awry, looking down at where your arms were joined up, your hand in the crook of his elbow. “You got color today.”

“I know, I got a little burnt on the face.” He gently touches your nose.

“Should have put aloe on it before we left. It’s cute though.”

“It is? The Rudolph look?”

He shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “You do not look like rudolph. But, you know, he’s cute so.”

“Well thank you.” The elevator dings, and you two walk out the doors, until you’re down on the sand, heading towards the boardwalk.

You walk side-by-side down the boardwalk now, taking in all the sights of the evening as the sun has set. There are stands everywhere, of jewelry, food, paintings, you name it. As you approach the marina, the sweet smell of seafood fills the air, making your stomach grumble.

He laughs at you.

“My tummy tells on itself.”

“Well perfect timing.”

The little restaurant is nestled amongst the colorful wooden boats, all lit up, as a hostess takes you all to your table. There are twinkling lights hanging from the thatch roof above, giving it the perfect beachy vibe. It’s so cozy, with a live band playing local music, everything is wide open and breezy.

Your table is overlooking the marina and the ocean beyond, so peaceful as the evening begins, casting a pretty purple and orange glow across the water. You look at Suguru across from you, sitting your chin in your hand, studying him as he speaks to the waitress, who was fawning over him.

Well, you were too.

The wind is flowing, blowing those little bangs of his, and you imagine him with his hair down, he’d look like some romance cover. Your own hair is in a loose bun with wispy tendrils, that flow, and his eyes seem to watch you then, his lips are moving, was he talking?

Shit.

“What do you want to drink, Princess?” He asks softly, and the waitress swoons, holding her chest.

“Oh, you’re so lucky!” She tells you. “To have such a man.”

You blush furiously, he just grins, wiggling his brows. “He’s not my man… yet…” He raises his brows now. “But I am lucky, this is totally kind of a date?”

“Totally kind of.” He agrees, his broad shoulders shaking with humor.

“Ah, new love. And he’s so handsome.” She fans herself, her accent is thick, and you nod.

“He is.” You agree, winking at him.

“But, you are so pretty too!” You smile at that.

“Yes, she is.” Suguru agrees, leaning forward, his fingers together, that charming smile and his sexy eyes glowing in the soft lights.

“Thank you.” You murmur, and then peek at the menu. “Can you recommend a good drink?” You ask her.

“Absolutely.” She points out some tropical looking drink with a weird name. You shrug.

“Sounds good.” Suguru orders his drink, he is simple and gets a beer, as they bring the drinks soon you laugh at how wild yours looks, all different colors and a big umbrella and fruit on the top. “Okay, that looks good.”

“Let’s try it together!” You scooch it in the middle of the table, and pop two straws in the glass, leaning forward, his amused eyes narrow as they stare at your lips hovering above the drink.

“All right.” He stands up, hands on either side of the table, and you both sip the frozen drink at the same time. You pause as you two just stand there, hunched over, lips on your straws. He licks his lower lip, so full, now glossy and tempting you, and your tummy clenches in desire from the smallest act.

You were simping bad already, shit.

You clear your throat, licking your lips, and his eyes dart back down there, you wonder wildly if he thinks the same. The part of you that is damaged from Mahito and insecure screams that he couldn’t really, that he just feels sorry for you so he is nice, but this other part? The part that used to be you, the part that Geto brings out? It thinks that you’re pretty hot.

It’s fucking nice, to feel sexy, desired, by someone you would kiss right across this table. In fact, you are both staring at each other, paused, as if you both were in some sort of trance. You reach down to sip again, laying your elbows on the table, your breasts are pressed up, and you enjoy his quick look, lingering just a second.

“Are you teasing me?” He asks softly, tugging on one of your strands of hair that has come loose, sipping some again. You cover your face, nodding.

“I don’t know what I’m doing though.” You admit, sitting back, he sits back as well, legs wide you notice, an arm back over the back of the empty chair next to him.

“You’re doing a pretty good job of it.” You look at the seat, then get up your courage and hop up, sitting next to him. He grins. “A very good job.”

“It feels so formal across from each other, doesn’t it? This reminds me more of the airplane.” He brushes the backs of his fingers along your cheek, and you feel yourself aching for more.

“It does, hmm? Not just an excuse to be closer?” He’s teasing you now, and it works, you’re all red.

“I won’t say either way.” You pick up the menu, and you both start choosing different food, crab legs and shrimp, and all sorts of things. You fall into a comfortable conversation, it was always so easy with him, since you’d met, this whirlwind of meeting someone you could be yourself with.

It seemed quick when the food started coming out, but time just passed quickly around him. The moonlight was already rising along the sky, reflecting in the water, and it got a little chilly with the wind, making you shiver. His arm wrapped around your shoulders, big hand rubbing your upper arm, pulling you a little closer, scooching your chairs together.

You smile up at him, and when his eyes catch yours, your breath catches in your throat. “Thank you, Suguru.” You murmur. He just smiles, and you drink in the sight of him next to you, probably embarrassingly so.

“Of course. I should have brought a jacket with me.” His hand runs up your shoulder, then his eyes drop to your chest, where the lines of the lingerie below were just barely peeking out.

“It’s a beach, of course you wouldn’t think you’d need a jacket, silly. It’s just the breeze.” He hums, thumb playing with the strap on your shoulder now, sending desire through you, hot and heavy. Your hand gently goes to his thigh, and you feel the tense hard muscle underneath.

“Is this…” He breaks off as the waitress comes back, and you tense, but he does not take off his arm, as Mahito would. Mahito had not shown public affection towards you, deeming it embarrassing.

“Dessert?” She asks, and Suguru looks at you then, his hand still firm on your shoulder, reassuring you.

“Would you like any, love?” He purrs those words, they send a shiver through your body. You shake your head.

“I’m so full. But thank you!” You smile to the waitress, and she goes off to get cases for your food and the check. You turn back to look at Suguru then, his gaze is back to the straps of the lingerie.

“Everything okay?” He asks softly, you nod, scooching a little closer, he pulls you against him, so warm, you sink into his embrace.

“You’re not embarrassed of me?” You curse inwardly as the words slip out, as Suguru tenses, glaring down at you with those narrowed eyes now.

“What stupid question is that? Why would I be. Why would I ask you to come out with me?”

“I… because you feel obligated? Or sorry.” You feel tears prick the back of your eyes, blinking them back, and his grip grows tight on you.

“No to both.” He says through gritted teeth, and you immediately feel you have fucked something up. “Is this another thing that happened?”

“I don’t want to keep annoying you with those things. Please, forget I said anything, I don’t want to ruin the night.” You put your hand on his chest, looking at him pleadingly, he exhales, grip on you tight.

“You won’t ruin anything. It’s just a little ridiculous at this point, you’re sitting here looking fucking beautiful, breathtaking…” Your cheeks heat up, your tummy flipping as he studies you so intently. “And you think I’d be embarrassed?”

“It was just what I am used to.”

“I’m not him.”

“Not even close. You’re a man.” You murmur, and his jaw eases just a bit, grip easing as well, sighing. “I don’t think you’re anything like him. Just stupid thoughts, I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry that you think that way.” He eases away, and you feel the tears burning again, so worried that you’re so damaged you’re fucking up the one good thing you’ve ever really had happen. You look away, clearing your throat.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom, be right back.”

You ignore him when he says your name, softly, and once you’re in the little bathroom you lock yourself in the stall, feeling the tears start to flow. You curse, yanking toilet paper down, struggling not to fuck up your carefully done makeup.

“Stupid, stupid.” You curse yourself, sighing tremulously, leaning your head into your hands. You’re fucking this up. But how could you just get over everything that’s happened to you?

You stay a few moments, going to the mirror, popping on some concealer to cover where your mascara had smudged from your tears. Suguru had called you beautiful. Breathtaking. And the way he looked to you, you felt that way, you just had to trust this, you had to move on.

Setting your shoulders straight, you walk back out, and Suguru is not at the table anymore, your heart falters a bit when you see him up towards the front, with numerous women gathered around him. You can’t feel anything about it, you barely knew him, and he wasn’t yours, but there was a little odd feeling there, as you see the beautiful women that giggled around him.

You stood there, before slowly walking up, and the women parted. Suguru smiled to you, holding his hand out, and it meant so much to you then, him acknowledging you, looking at you, smiling. You smile, placing your little hand in his own, comfortingly swallowing yours.

“Shall we head out?” You nod. “Perfect, thanks so much for dinner.” He says to the staff, and they all swooned and fawned over him as you all walked out, hand in hand, stepping fully out into the breeze, he looks at you then.

You turn your head, looking up at him, Suguru gently lifts your chin up, wrapping an arm around your waist. You feel yourself heat up at the contact, at feeling his hard, warm body against yours. You shyly look down a bit.

“Look at me.” He orders, silkenly, and you’d do anything he asked, anything he said, if it was like that. You do as he says, eyes meeting his now, your lips parting just a bit. “I’m not upset with you. Promise.”

“You’re not?” Your voice broke just a bit. He sighs, bending down lower, noses nearly touching.

“Not one bit. I just got mad someone made you feel that way. Fuck, I’d be mad that anyone feels this way. But never mad at you.” You exhale, gratefully, nodding and blinking back the stupid emotion.

“I’m so glad. I am having so much fun and I don’t want to ruin it.” He smiles, a little half turn of his lips, thumb tracing your jawline.

“No way, you’ve made everything better.”

“Me?” He nods. “You made everything better.” Your hands go up to his chest, feeling his hard muscles, his steady heartbeat on your palms.

“By what, being here with a beautiful girl? In her fancy fucking suite? While she wears lingerie that’s driving me insane thinking about?” You’re bright red now, and he laughs softly at you.

“I’ve never had so much fun. Please, stay the rest of the time? Even if a room opens up?”

“Of course. I’m having fun too.” He presses a little kiss on your lips, and you wonder if these things only mean so much to you, but for now you shove that thought down, and enjoy his full lips on yours. You moan softly, and he inhales, sharply, easing back.

“Earlier, those texts… they really got me excited. And nervous?” You giggle thinking about it, he grins, easing away now, and you all start to walk. “I’ve never felt like that.”

“You give me too much credit, thanking me for having dinner with you, thanking me for staying, now you’re thanking me for sending horny texts?” You giggle into your hand, then think better, grinning up at him, he pauses on the boardwalk, smiling. “You’re listening huh?”

“You’re a good teacher, you know.” You tease, tapping his lips with your fingertip, he nips it, and your thighs clench together, heat pooling between them. “I think I need more lessons.”

“Oh do you?” His voice is husky, eyes going hooded, you can’t believe you have been so bold.

“Yes, I think I could use one tonight. If you don't need to go to sleep super early? I don’t want to interfere with anything.” You look away, but he stops you.

“Ah-ah.” You peek back up. “I’ll do another lesson, as long as you allow me to see this. It’s been driving me crazy all night.” He murmurs, sliding his fingers under the straps. You nip your lower lip, drawing his eyes to it, you’re growing wet under the lacy panties of the lingerie.

“It has?” He rolls his eyes, sighing, snatching up your hand, continuing your walk back to the resort.

“Yeah.” Was all he said, quietly, and you watch a faint color on his cheeks, making you flush more. “Very much. Is that why you wore it?”

You look down, giggling. “Maybe.”

“Maybe, hmm?” You grin up at him, and he grins back at you, soon you all are back up to the room, you’re taking off your shoes, and he is as well. “I am going to take a shower real quick? Is that fine?”

“Of course! I’ll just get you some towels, hang on.” You murmur, he pauses you then, a hand on your wrist as you are grabbing him towels. “Hmm?”

“Why don’t you…” He trails a hand gently down your straps again, straps he had been teasing all night, backs of his fingers trailing against your sensitive skin, making your pulse race, desire hitting hard. “Get more comfortable?”

You feel everything spinning then, at the deep voice, the suggestion, the look in his pretty eyes. You nervously run a hand along his where it met your skin, rubbing little circles along the back of his hands. “I can do that.”

“Perfect.” He gently kisses your forehead, something you like far, far too much, and heads into the bathroom.

You freak the fuck out.

You text Maki, asking for advice, and then you nervously peek in the mirror as you wait, looking in the mirror, your entire face is pink, a mix of sunburn and being flustered. You nervously take off your dress, revealing the pretty lacy number, snapping a pic and sending it to Maki.

Maki: Bitch you look perfect!

You: Thank you but how do I get… comfortable?

Maki: Get a drink and lounge on the couch, all sexy and shit, I totally believe in you!

You take a breath, doing as she suggested, walking over to the stocked mini bar, deciding to get some wine and pour two glasses. You didn’t know if Geto drank wine, but you wanted to have him something too. You go sit nervously on the couch, positioning your body this way and that, over analyzing everything, trying to look casual, to look sexy…

It ended up being you just leaning against the side of the arm of the couch, legs crossed, and you had thrown on the little sheer mesh cover that hung on your shoulders loosely, not covering anything but it looked so elegant. You hear the water shut off, and busy yourself looking at the phone, trying to control your heated breathing.

This was wild right?

Fuck it.

When Geto steps out, shirtless, your throat goes dry, your heart fucking hammering at the sight of him. It’s not something you could get used to, how perfect he looks, and as your eyes slide up, you see his hair is loose, and soft, fucking shiny and gorgeous. It’s softly falling around his face, making him look even more attractive, and his full lips are parted, staring at you.

You watch his eyes glide up and down your body, your legs, your breasts, until they get to your face finally, and he exhales. You are just sitting there nervously, palms sweaty, you bend over to grab his drink, standing and handing it to him, your fingers brush as you both pause.

“I didn’t know if you like wine?” You ask nervously, he clears his throat then, sitting both of your glasses down, and you frown. “There’s plenty of other drinks, or we could just have water?”

He cups your face gently, bending low, your breaths are mingling, his tasting like mint. “You look fucking…” He trails off, hands trailing down the lace of your lingerie, along your curves. “Yummy.”

You giggle. “Yummy hmm?”

He grins, stepping back and looking down your body. “That fucking describes you perfectly right now.”

You bravely kiss him, on your tip toes, eliciting a moan from him. “Do I taste yummy too?” You whisper, he moans then, and before you know it he’s snatched you up in his arms, you squeak in surprise, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Fuck, you’re super strong.”

“You don’t weigh much. But I do work out.” He teases, and you’ve never been grabbed like this, felt so excited and… safe.

“I see this.” You tease, kissing him again, he is grabbing your ass, moaning, as you wrap your thighs around him, and he’s just carrying you? Like it’s nothing. Until you feel your bed against your back.

“Even prettier on your back.” He whispers, you’re soaking wet now, arching your hips up and whining as he watches you.

“Mmm… Geto…”

“Suguru. Call me Suguru.” He whispers, and you bite your lip, he eases your teeth off it. “You bite it too much.”

“I do, hmm? Well… Suguru, bite it for me.” You whisper, he exhales, gently caressing your face, kissing your lower lip, running his tongue along it, before sucking it into his mouth and nipping it. “Mmnh!”

“Yummy.” He whispers, you moan as he runs his hands down your body, easing off the little mesh top, sliding it off you. His hand grazes the sides of your breasts, thumbs brushing your nipples through the lace. “I won’t go any further than you want to. I promise. You’re safe with me, okay?”

You feel emotion catch in your throat, and you nod, blinking rapidly, holding his strong shoulders in your hands. “I already knew that. I have a feeling you won’t go as far as I want.” You whisper with a smirk, and he laughs a bit, nodding.

“You’re probably right. But I want you to want this.”

“I do, I want this so fucking bad. Like anything you want to give me, or do, I want. Should I show you how much?” You raise a brow, and he nods, you take his hand then, sliding it to where you’re soaked, and he moans as he feels you over your lacy panties, you gasp as his finger grazes your clit over the material.

“Do you just stay drenched?” He murmurs, one hand grabbing your hair, the other stroking your clit, sticky through the fabric.

“This is a new development.” You admit, and he’s kissing you then, drinking in your cries as he tortures you over your fabric, leaving you wanting more, more.

“Hmm… before our next lesson, I should know if you paid attention to the first one.” He pulls back with a teasing grin. You cry out at the loss of contact.

“I did! Kinda.”

“Mmm, let’s see then.” Your mouth is wide open, and he has the biggest grin on his handsome face, picking you up and scooching you further on the bed. You gasp, and he takes your hand, kissing it, then sliding it in your panties. You gasp as your own finger finds your clit.

“Mnh!” You whine, and he eases back a bit, eyes full of desire, hands rubbing up and down your thighs, hooking in your panties.

“May I?” He asks, and you nod, trembling as he bares you to him, and his breath catches when he sees your pussy, slick and shimmering with desire for him, thighs wide open so he could see it all. “Fuck.”

You’re shaking, and feel your chest heaving as he sees you fully, it was something that had not really happened before. You grow nervous, trying to shut your legs a bit, but he spreads them, shaking his head, soft long black hair falling and flowing with the motion.

“Is it okay? I-”

“You’re perfect.” He murmurs, eyes flicking back up to yours, desire heavy in them, reflecting your own. “Fucking perfect little pussy.”

“Yeah?” He laughs a bit at you.

“Yes. You’re… perfect is the only word I can think. And it’s hard to think at the moment.” He takes your hand again, guiding your finger back to your clit, and you rub it, gasping at how good it feels. “You’re fucking beautiful.”

You feel beautiful.

“Th-thank you, Suguru.” You manage, head arching back, hips raising under his gaze, stuck on your cunt like a fucking hawk, flickering his eyes up your body to your face, then back down, his strong hands gripping your thighs.

“That’s it, you have this part down. Now what about sliding a finger in?” He suggests, fucking sexy voice of his like velvet, and you nervously do so, crying out when you slide your own finger in your slippery wet entrance. “Fuck…”

“It’s not as good as yours.” You whine, and he takes your fingers then, bringing them to his mouth, sucking them off, eyes closed, moaning. You gasp, and when his eyes open again, they’re fucking ravenous.

“You taste so good.” He murmurs, then he slides his finger up and down your slit, making you tense in desire, throbbing around him, he slides that finger out and into your mouth. You moan, licking yourself off, then he’s on you, kissing you, his weight pressed on top of your overheated body.

“Mmm! Suguru!” You cry out when he kisses down your throat, to your breasts, and he slides them out of the cups of the lingerie.

“You’re beautiful everywhere.” He whispers, eyes locking on yours when he lavishes a nipple with his tongue, you tense everywhere, the pleasure so good you can’t stand it. “Pretty, perfect breasts.”

“Fuck.” You manage, and he’s kissing lower, your tummy, and you grow even wetter if that’s possible, pulsing around nothing, his silky hair is tickling you, you gently grab it.

“I want to taste you fully.” He whispers, breath against the hood of your clit, you moan at it, hips raising up towards him. He spreads your thighs, and his gaze, seductive as fuck, meets yours. “Do you want me to, Princess, to taste you?”

“Oh please, yes. Please.” You’re begging and you don’t fucking care, he smiles, kissing the hood of your clit, teasing you, then he slides his tongue up your slit, tasting you, and it feels so fucking good you nearly scream. “Fuck! Fuck.”

“You taste so sweet.” He whispers, flicking his tongue up again, spreading your lips apart further, sliding his tongue in your entrance, you do scream now.

“Suguru! So good. So good.” You cry out, tears sliding from your eyes as pressure builds quick, like before, but so much more intense. Your hands grab his hair, pulling him to you, and he moans, vibrating your puffy little clit, and you’re panting, feeling every nerve ending on fire.

“So close already, Princess?” He murmurs, peeking up at you, a mischievous smirk on his face, which is glistening with your desire. You giggle, breathlessly, nodding to him.

“It feels too good.” You murmur, and he grins, kissing your clit again.

“I’m just getting started, love.” You’re surprised at this, but then he’s tilting his head, and holding the hood of your clit up, flicking his tongue on the sensitive bundle of nerves, faster and faster, and you cum hard, so hard, blinding you, gripping the sheets below you, as it rocks you like nothing you’ve know.

“Suguru!” You scream out his name, panting.

“Cum as many times on my face as you want.” He whispers, fingering you then, and you’re rocking your hips against his face, wanton.

“It’s okay?” You whisper. “It’s messy.”

He laughs at you, hot against your aching, oversensitive cunt, thrusting his finger up to that spot that makes you see stars. “I’ll drink it all up, don’t worry, Princess.”

Fuck.

He’s back down there again, using his finger in sync with his tongue, and you’re falling apart all over again, as another orgasm washes through you, hot sticky cum pulsing out onto his hands, onto his face. He’s moaning, and the obscene sounds of him literally slurping you up turn you on goddamn more.

“There you go. Good girl.” He whispers, and now his face is fucking soaked, he licks his lips, grinning.

“You’re really fucking good at this.” You whisper, voice hoarse from how hard you just came.

“I enjoy it. Especially with your pretty, yummy little cunt.” His words bring you up again, as when he slides another finger in you, stretching you out. “Can you take these two, love?”

“I can do it.” You nod, wincing a bit, and he laughs a bit at you, sweetly though, watching you as you adjust.

“You’re so stupid fucking tight.” He is knuckles deep, tilting his fingers up, hitting that spongy little spot over and over, and you’re cumming from just that, making his hand slick as he plays you like an instrument. “So beautiful when you cum.”

“Fucking so good. Mmm.” You lose words, you lose sense of self, and he’s going back down there, you’re not sure you can take anymore.

“Cum one more time for me, Princess. Would you?” He asks, and you whine, brushing back his hair.

“So sensitive. Ah!” He flicks his tongue on you again, you throw your head back in ecstasy.

“One more time, I’ll clean it all up with my tongue.”

“You’re too hot.”

He grins, shaking his head, and then dives back down between your thighs, and his tongue is ravenous, fast on your clit, sucking it in his mouth and humming, and you’re cumming so hard you can’t breathe. Everything fades, your ears are even ringing, your head fuzzy, as you feel so much pleasure it goddamn nearly hurts, cumming all over his face and hand.

He is drinking it all up, tongue lavishing every sensitive inch after you come, he eases up, sucking his fingers of, and licking his lips, as if he could not get enough. He’s so fucking attractive, you’re so sensitive, you sit up weakly, pulling him down, kissing him so deep, tasting yourself all over his soft, firm lips. He moans, returning the kiss, then he’s on you again.

You’re falling into each other as you try to piece yourself back together, your body heaving with the effort, legs trembling how hard you’d come, and he’s kissing you so passionately. His cock is hard and eager on your thigh, you run your hand up and down his abdomen, dying to see it, dying to touch it.

“Surugu, that’s the best goddamn thing that’s ever happened.” He chuckles against your lips, holding himself up on his arms, hand cupping your face.

“You are the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen, cumming, your little face…” He rubs your forehead. “Your brows tense.” He touches your nose. “It scrunches up all cute.” Now your lips. “And you bite the fuck out of this, leaving little teeth marks.” Now he rubs your cheeks. “They’re all flushed. And your eyes…”

“You make me feel so…” You gulp, feeling tears run down your eyes now, he softly swipes them away. “So pretty. Thank you, Suguru.”

“I’m just telling you what I see. It’s the truth.” He kisses your forehead, your eyes flutter shut.

“I’m dumb and feel things. And we barely know each other. Is that stupid?” He pauses, and your eyes meet, more serious now as he studies you.

“It’s not stupid to feel things. But, I just wore you out with orgasms.” You flush at that. “So maybe with a clearer mind we can talk about that.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s foggy at the moment. But I do know, you’re absolutely amazing, Suguru Geto. And I’ve never been happier.” You whisper, and watch him tense a bit, looking down at your lips.

“I’m pretty happy at this moment.” He admits, and you exhale, worries shoved back for now of what all this meant. “You didn’t try to reach for my dick hmm?” He is grinning now. You laugh.

“I didn’t know if this was another just my pleasure lesson?” He nods.

“It is. So, good girl.” You moan, and his eyes light up. “You like being called that, don’t you?” You nod, tucking your face into his chest. “I see you’ll be submissive.”

“You think?”

“We’ll find out.” He’s stroking your hair gently, it feels entirely too good.

“I really like you? I’m sorry if that’s weird to say.”

He pauses, it’s quiet for a moment, you tense. “No, that’s not weird at all. I did just have my face buried in your pussy.”

“Oh god!” You both laugh at that, and you look up to him shyly, he’s completely pleased with himself, clearly. “You’re way too good at that.”

“I’m good at a lot of things.” He grinds his cock against you, shocking you, it’s under his shorts but you feel it, huge as fuck and thick, hot and hard. You make a noise from the back of your throat.

“I bet you are.” You whisper, rising your hips up, eliciting a hiss from him. He holds your hips down.

“You tease me.”

“You tease me!” You both sigh, kissing again, and he eases back. “Listen, I’m down for this next lesson whenever.”

“I bet you are. Insatiable little thing.” He sighs, running his hands back down your body, admiring you again.

“Sleep in bed with me?” You flutter your lashes, pouting. He laughs.

“You’re giving me puppy dog eyes!”

“Are they working?”

“Not yet.”

“Well shit.” He shakes his head at you.

“Too hard still.”

“I could-”

“Not just yet.”

“Ugh.” He’s enjoying your torture, smirking down at you, and then he helps you up, on wobbly legs. “Fuck.”

“You okay there?” He winks, and you sigh.

“Fine, totally fine.” You stumble, he laughs as he catches you. “You’re enjoying me being gelatin!”

“Maybe a bit. Let’s get you dressed, you need some help.” You roll your eyes, sighing, and soon he’s exhausted, yawning.

“Need to get up early?” You ask softly, he nods, stretching.

“I’ll be back earlier tomorrow though. We can go to the beach together, if you want to.” He caresses your face gently.

“I would love that.” You cup his face, leaning up. “Thank you so much, that was… well… fucking amazing.”

“You’re very welcome, Princess. I loved it too, so you know.”

“Yeah?”

“Fuck yes. It’s still a whole problem.” He looks down, and you do too, finding him still rock hard, the outline of him making your sore cunt throb. “Don’t look at it so hungry, freaky little virgin.”

“Hey!” You shove at him, and then you end up giggling again, have you ever giggled so much? Ever?

“Good night, Princess.” He gives you a soft kiss, and you linger for a minute, not wanting to ever leave his embrace. “Sweet dreams.”

“Sweet dreams, Suguru.” You head to your own room, turning off all the lights, and you turn on your side in the bed, staring out at the beautiful waves crashing along the shore.

You feel sleep pulling you quick, those orgasms have sapped all the energy you had, and the thoughts of him between your thighs made you so hot you had to shove off the blankets. Suguru was quietly snoring in the next room, and all you can think is how bad you want his arms around you.

Your feelings are scary and confusing.

You’ve got it bad.

But you’ve never felt better.

Chapter 4

Ao3 chapter:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/56577688/chapters/144350392

[sunsets12]

Love TSIYW and all the extras you’ve added to this. This is more of a stream of thoughts than proper guesses, but I was thinking about the prophecy and everyone else’s guesses about when/where Thalia and Nico will show up. And its interesting that aside from post revolution, most guesses seem to lean a) roughly for the 75th and b) that they will arrive together.

Like it feels very logical (and most likely) that whatever way they find themselves in the new world, they’ll be together and during the rebellion/QQ time. But I’m having fun thinking about the implications of if they get there before the 75th, bc Percy managed to not get locked up mainly because he was alone and feigned amnesia, but two more mysterious people (asssuming they pop up in a district). Snow being like, where are they coming from ??!?

That also had me thinking about the possibility of one or both them arriving in a district 12 because gallows also includes hangings, and immediately thought of the hanging tree. And I had this thought of them accidentally finding themselves near district 12, and the woods/katniss. And I’m not really sure where that would go, but the thought of katniss dealing with a demigod early (73/74) amused me.

(Also there’s the widely random option of them just flat out falling into random separate districts and just… competing in the 73rd or something. Probably way too early if they’re supposed to be Percy’s eyes in his old world. But the DRAMA of Percy seeing his cousins as two of the new tributes next year. Forget about his stress levels for 72…)

This “maybe it’s before 75” idea also comes from the fact that the second two lines, of the prophecy feel like a full sentence. Esp because the way it’s written (7 lines) would pair up all but the first into sentences. So a potential interpretation goes:

To the world without gods, two shall go: two people gonna go to the new world

Sky’s daughter and death’s son find the gallow, Where rests a burning fire’s draw: if taken literally, T&N will find the execution area (hanging tree?) where katniss (burning fire) will be literally resting (bc I think this is at the edge of the woods). The draw comes into play if you get creative and interpret it as like “drawing a bow” aka the time right before the actual action of shooting, instead of interpreting draw as in they will be drawn to katniss. Then you get the possibility of either 74 or 75 (the time right before she becomes the first symbolic spark OR the face.

the shrike bequeath lover’s call / A map to the ocean’s son, now his own: this gave me the most grief for some reason and is the reason why I split the prophecy this way. Basically I just read this as finnick will help lead to Percy, who’s on his way to ascension.

The wrath of Justice shall not stand alone / At her side, ten will stride: Justice is gonna kick ass with support. If Justice is a person, prob katniss. (Also aligns how burning fire isn’t capitalized, aka not Katniss as The symbol yet.) And, option a) ten other significant people will be impt… or b) the ten main districts of the rebellion rising up, and yes this would count out 1, 2, & prob 13 (and I’m only adding this bc I got salty thinking about how 13 legit just threw the other districts under the bus when suing for independence/ceasefire when started the conflict and idk, it makes sense to not go nuclear…but something something 75 years is a very very long time, suspiciously so, and coin ur sus and I don’t think Percy would like you either. And other the military is not your friend/will not bring justice themes)

Anyway, if you got through all that thank you! Super excited to read what happens next, and prob how off base I was lol. Thanks for writing!

Interesting interpretation :)

[im-not-buying-it-ether]

@‘ing @puppetwoman17 and @cerealboxlore bc I saw their post of the Marvel fam just having the wildest connections

In whiz comics #55 we get a (albeit fraudulent) family tree of Captain Marvel with distant relatives including but not limited to

Colonel Marvel; Who was a revolutionary in the American revolution and took men down with single punches while tanking their bullets. He’s apparently Marvels great great grandfather

Daniel Marvel; who… wasn’t the best character outside the 40’s since he helped in colonizing and exploring native land, he could fly and was invulnerable and strong too. He’s said to be his great great great uncle on his moms step-uncles cousins side

The Black sheep of the family, Black Beard Marvel; he plundered the 7 seas looking for gold

Sir Marvel; a Knight in red armor who fought dragons and orgres, using his brawn and wits

Red Beard Marvel; Great x5 second cousin of Marvel and a mighty Viking who attacked and then freed the men aboard gally ships, he was apparently some of the first few Viking to discover the Americas too

BC Marvel (no relation to Puffins au, lol); A mighty gladiator

Muscle Marvel, the first of the family line apparently; inventor of the first weapon, a stone headed club, and discovered fire and created written language

The dude expositing all this does turn out to be a fraud but then in a later issue I haven’t found yet there’s Sivana calling on his same sort of family members to help him in his schemes so who knows how wacky a comic from the 40’s was willing to get

[stifletower]

ok so I feel like it’s time I ask around to see if anyone else had the same kink origin story.

does anyone remember the webkins toys from the 2000s that had codes on the tags so that you could go online to their website and then attach them to your account and play with them online? and there were lots of built in games?

well, there was this one game that I distinctly remember called “Go Go Googles” which basically involved you playing as “Googles” which were these duck-like critters and trying to swat away butterflies before they landed on the anthropomorphic tree’s nose which would get more and more flustered with every butterfly you missed until he sneezed and all his leaves fell off!

guys… when I tell you this made me feel things, I must’ve been like 5-7 maybe younger but I remember it so clearly, I didn’t know what it was at the time obviously. I’m so embarrassed because I totally remember sitting on my moms lap playing this game (bc I was too small to log in by myself) and telling her how much I I wanted to play “the sneeze butterfly game” and how it made me “feel like I have to go pee but I don’t” and her telling me to go then and me being like “nah it’s not that” and now I wonder what she must’ve thought about that. anyways. anyone else? This has gotta be the weirdest sexual awakening and I’ve never told a single soul other than my mom indirectly. I didn’t realize that’s what it was until years later lol.

[sockatoothewafflebird]

Hatchling Asks!!! ::D

1, 2, 4, 6, 7, 8, 13, and 50!

(Mostly just: what do they look like? Lol!)

yippee!!! okay here i go, apologies if this gets a little long haha. i do plan to make a colored piece of them soon but for now this will have to do ::]

(...putting it under the cut bc it got loooong. like seriously my autism went ham on this thing. infodumping explosion ahead, it is a skyscraper of text down there.)

1: do they have a name?

yes! their name is Elbaite. the people they're closest to call them Ellie (literally just feldspar, hal, and gabbro). i named them this because 1) ellie is a cute nickname and 2) they have heterochromia and their scale patterns are more vibrant than most, and elbaite as a rock is one of the most colorful out there.

2: how old were they on launch day?

i like to think elbaite was about 20-21. compared to the other astronauts, at least in the fic i'm working on, gabbro was 24 when they launched (later than most, you'll learn why, someday), riebeck was 22, and chert was 19 (because they seem like the type to graduate early in my opinion).

4: how tall are they?

i mostly think of their height as relative to gabbro's (height difference is a cute trope what can i say), and i think of gabbro as 6ft 2in or around 187-188cm? so that would make elbaite like 5ft 5in (around 165cm). they're average height. wahoo!

6: eye color?

at first i thought itd be fine to leave it as yellow, but then i remembered heterochromia exists. so multicolored it is!! one eye is yellow and the other is green because it fits their name and their design better.

7: ear perkiness?

i wanna say Very Perked, because it's cute! but at the same time, with my hc that hearthian ears are the gateway to their emotions, and only masters of acting or people that have something going on (cough cough autistic gabbro foreshadowing cough cough) can consciously control how their ears move... i think elbaite having them at a very neutral, "slightly perked but not enough to mean anything" position fits them better. because, while they like to seem friendly (even if they're a bit morbid or sassy sometimes), they're honestly just trying to get through the day.

8: what do they wear other than their suit?

ooo this is a fun one. fun but tough.

they like to wear the in-game outfit underneath their suit, but otherwise, they're an overall style-over-comfort person when it comes to fashion. i think theyre one of the only hearthians that cares THIS much about looks at all actually... ahem ahem. they wear overalls or maybe even a sundress if they're feeling cute but usually they're in an OWV issued flight jacket or a snug t-shirt and puffy pants. when i say puffy i mean like. the pants ARE the outfit.

13: how do they like their mallows?

they like them perfectly golden brown. like a VERY specific color that no one else really knows how to get right. theyre very particular about this, if anyone else makes a mallow for them it's always slightly-too-raw or slightly-too-brown for their taste. but they feel horrible about making them re-do it so they eat it anyway.

50: freebie... ooOoOOo...

hmmm okay i'll have some fun with this and dump about a part of their Backstory™️. ahem ahem, this gets long so be warned. maybe i overdid this.... meh who cares.

elbaite has some nasty burn scars from when they were a teen (maybe around 16?), that are mainly on their right side, one of which going from the base of their neck to their cheek. this is the most visible one but there are plenty more.

it was during the stormy season. a terribly windy day caused a tree to fall right on the roof of the cabin, starting a fire. and elbaite made sure everyone was out and safe before they even considered getting out themself. and then, of course, the cabin collapsed on them, as they were lost in the maze of smoke and broken wood. it's a miracle they made it out alive. a broken rib and knee, terrible amounts of smoke inhalation, not to mention the burns all over. were bedridden for weeks. (and to top it all off, they felt guilty for taking up space in the medical center.)

the reasons why they did this? well. time will tell. (...i'm writing a fic about it.)

they also have a fair share of scars just from being reckless, but those are tiny. a few more injuries include having broken their elbow while jetpacking, nicking off a bit of their ear from a bear-adjacent creature attacking their group on a camping trip (they fought it off like the loveable idiot they are), and breaking a finger from not disembarking their spaceship correctly on a test-launch. all of which they insisted they could walk off, because of course they would say that.

basically this whole thing is to say, they're a mini-feldspar, except with an added love for deciphering the nomai language on top of the recklessness and lack of self-preservation.

that's all!!! this was very fun to answer, tysm for the ask ::] and sorry this became a whole essay lmao. i promise i'll post some doodles of ellie someday, whenever i find the time and energy... toodles!!

[cactustreesmotel]

tagged by @muirneach!

you just got a kind of shitty old car and it doesn’t have bluetooth. you can only buy 7 CDs and you can’t repeat an artist. what are you getting?

i decided to choose from my collection only (difficult bc about 50% of it is 3 artists total lol):

red dirt girl - emmylou harris

hejira - joni mitchell

bare trees - fleetwood mac

greendale - neil young

such ferocious beauty - cowboy junkies

sunshine on leith - the proclaimers

life on a postcard - bob stark

tagging: @iamidentical @userpironi @songsforsharon @onmytape

[gojoest]

Banging with satoru (we switch 😗) on the shore is all I need yes yes yes ugh imagine next to the campfire at night or like under the coconut trees in daylight 😭 let's just say its private island by the way. I shall be silly, I'll jerk him off.. into the ocean 😂 there's never holding back when I'm in ur asks

needy greedy hungry fucking by the ocean, the most beautiful place on earth 💞💞💞 you will bang in every spot on that island im afraid bc you being in beachwear almost all the time means satoru will be 24/7 with a hard cock and a wet spot on his shorts 😭

jerking him off into the ocean you say… ough …. your hand can’t move as fast in water so he’ll be soooo frustrated and needy he’s going to try and move his hips to meet you and fuck himself into your fist but alas the water drags at him too. his rhythm might be slowed but he sure will be forcing waves in the water HAHAH and when he finally cums he’ll be like “ah such a waste, it all spilled into the ocean… now it’ll dissolve into the water and eventually end up touching other people’s bodies. you sure you’re okay with that? ;)”

so pls right before he cums let him slip that cock inside you <3 and to ensure that his load won’t spill out ask him to carry you to the shore with him still inside you <3 or else he’s going to be like “so you want to share my semen with everyone else 😔” i actually think he will guilt trip you into doing this LOL but honestly that man just wants to fill you up

[xoxnaeeeoxo]

HIII GUYS IM BACK SO HEHEEH I’ve just came back from a shift it is currently 7:02am ! And i honestly couldn’t hold back from posting this.

SHORT STORY TIME!!

So I took a short break from shifting and literally just everything that I felt was draining me. Long story short I reconnected with myself, did some shadow work, manifested my literal dream man, and got myself an even better relationship with shifting.

So basically last night I was like I’m going to shift tomorrow. And I was originally planning on scripting and planning it etc but I woke up at like 6 and was just like eh no I’m gonna shift now just because. (I’ll include method at the bottom!!)

So I shifted to a Pandora. Was it terrifying? Yes! 😃 me and my bestie (from this reality that I scripted there, we do that for shifts so we aren’t alone lol) did a whole mini mission and honestly shifting there just made me more motivated than ever. We were on Pandora and I got to literally climb the famous tree they called ‘ewa’ I did also see avatars and freaked. Lmaooo they’re some tall a$$ aliens. We also got chased by humans that were trying to destroy their land and had to sneak around and hide to not be caught. So anyways i decided to come back because I just felt the need to post this 😂 and also I want to script to go somewhere else !!!

I also want to say that I will definitely be telling and teaching my boyfriend about shifting, if he agrees to try it. If y’all want I could share his experience and give you his feedback and etc!

So anyways the METHOD I used I forgot if it had a name or not! So I first

1.) imagined a place.

2.) did five senses until I could literally feel, smell, see everything around me and hear it.

3.) just decided that I shifted and I shifted.

That’s also another thing I realized that helped!! I would hate when people would say ‘shifting is so easy’ but at the time it wasn’t for me because I wasn’t understanding it. However I do now see what they mean😅

Shifting is really easy and once you shift you’ll understand too. I kid you not I was just imagining it like a daydream kinda. And after I did the five senses I was just like “yk what? I’m shifted I’m here already.” Literally. I just went with it 😭 I didn’t care or think of doubt I ofc was too tired to. But I was basically in the mindset of “I’m shifting bc I say so” and that’s literally just the key in my opinion.

Shifting is easy.

You will shift simply because you WANT to.

SIMPLY because YOU SAY SO.

EVERYONE is capable of doing it, you’ve just gotta realize you’re the only thing limiting your own beliefs.

You’re the only one holding yourself back. So why not let go of doubt ?

Reprogram!

Reset!

Shift because you want to and you can.

Script with the full intention of shifting right after you finish it.

Don’t question whether or not if the attempt is going to work. KNOW it’s going to work. And if you need to think of another possibility, treat it like this.

“I’m either going to fully shift or mini shift.”

I personally see a shift as a shift no matter how small, however having that mindset over doubts of not doing it at all is better! And more motivating.

Okay okay, talk soon guys!! :)

HAPPY SHIFTING!!!

[merijem]

I have my Main Murder Drones Au called "MurderGlitch" basically whit my own ocs added to the story, its almoste like the original but diffrent scenes and moments happen.And yes itll alsp continew having more chapters (ill prob write stories in wattpad bc rn i dont trust a03 atm) like almoste continew after season 1 ended (i wish season 2 existed lol, the show was kinda rushed in my opinion BUT notherless, i loved it ^-^) also my au has more copper planets whit each ocs bing split there and their own show stories to begin so basically, my au is like cartoon network, many shows whit many stories to read! Thats same whit my project whit me in it named "my world" lol

Anyways

Here is my redesigned murder drones persona Meri Wither (Copper 9) (more ocs coming soon)

Here is extra info.

[Datafile is a private program that ONLY I CAN USE please dont add it on ur oc, its really breaking my boundaries.]

[Funfacts]

1. Uzi gifted her backpack to meri

2. Uzi doesnt consider meri as one of the humans because she calls her more of "Your the cooler version of humans...or whataver- bite me!"

3. she bites uzi's arm whenever she says bite me lol

4. Uzi often uses meri as a dummy because meri can always Regenerate! which why she considers meri as a cooler human and not the boring ROBOT racists one (thats how i see uzi rn lmao)

5. Meri only eats apples, thats why they keep a tree apple inside the bunker because she will go feral of hunger, causing dronelism (yes she can eat thro drones) again- (AGAIN?!)

6.She and uzi went together undercover outside the bunker.

7.Meri doesnt talk but others get shocked when she does due to her voice lmao, sometimes she can break her character (this is so canon im sorry-)

8. meri is like undertale realistic frisk at this point lmao-

9. She has NO fear, all she wants are awnsers on what happend to the humans, what happend here, why is there chaos lingering, why is solver like this and shiet.

10. Meri only smiles small times when u generally make her feel hope/happy, its rlly rare to see that.

11. Despite almoste everything is a copy, she has some realism in her, tho no one knows not even mr.wither.

12.Cried when she found her dad again alive and...well..alive i think? he was stuck in the underground lab whit his leg, luckily it healed later.

13.She doesnt use solver, she has much greater power than that, the datafile. (thanks to xiana)

14.She can Regenerate easily as purple flowers grow to form out her body whit purple goop, her inside has INFINITE organic organs all together, except there is only ONE beating heart...whit purple flowers around.

15.she has a notebook she writes and draws, stickers too!

16.Xiana lives whitin her..Can take control whit enough force and the reason meri has datafile powers whitin her body.Whenever meri goes into coma state, xiana rips from her back and controls the powers and corpse.

17. The only time she actully laughs/gives a chuckle is when uzi tells an insulting joke (not a pun, generall a joke that is insulting, like frisk and sans lol)

18. Adopted V's copy kid after V died, she felt bad.

19. Has other adopted kids.

20. Fan of Angry birds and undertale

21. She finds out her 2 adopted siblings are alive and later will meet them, growin more healed and more socializing...

22. Wondering where her two twin sister's she had are, as theyre still missing. (Biological siblings, Mia and Mai)

23. Has a drone sister which ms.rosetta adopted before she was borned and when she was found in copper 9, Khan took her in. (Cynal)

24.Wears a bow gifted by cyn long ago.

25. Has hair bc its manly idk, they are a quite a wierd kid.

26.Never reveals their eyes.

27. Wants to know where the missing kids are.

28. From Copper 9

Crush: Allie/SD A1 ane Vix (theyre both 13 aswell, allie was programmed and designed as 13, please dont be wierd people...)

close: Cyn, SD J, Uzi, Cynal, SD V, kiddo's she adopted, SD C/Cally, [Deviltech!] Cally, Geno-7, Khan & Nori, Lizzy & Thad, The Teacher (good chill teacher), Ms.Rosetta (Biological Mom), Mr.Wither (Biological Father), Ms.Sunshine (her aunt), Sabe & Sandra, SD-Galaxy (by MilkyDV) Tessa & Jessa, SD CB1, Tom X1, SD Sky (By MilkyDV), Xiana & Datafile (despite how shes paranoided and anxious they seem still to be..her friends she had when she was alone.), Raptors (she finds em cute and befriended some), Atta [001], The Crying Lady (TCL), SD A2, SD A3, SD F and Proto, SD Rose, CyberCore, Ollie, Andro (hes adorable :3) (by geno), Endro (hes funny) (by geno), Jauto (Likes learning new things by him) (by geno), Nameless (actully gets along whit the living void, the existance itself-), Sabre, Axolotle,

cool frendos: Artzy, Angelic (Good divine light that angels adore heaven smth, shes cool and chill), Anneliese (By Ghost), SD XR1 Ezekiel & SD HA3 (By Kuwa), Oyasumi, Maki (by lex),

netruel: Adam, Alice, Matthew, Victor (all by adam), Lex, Others

Enemies: those who get in her way and will not hesitate to kill them.

Some names are my friends ocs.

Datafile is the first program i made before other programs were made when i first saw absolute solver.

Will explain more about datafile soon.

Uptade: shes born as a diformed child, thats why shes considered as genderless, uses any pronounces aswell has hair around his body.

Template design made by my friend Sha.

[artigas]

tagged by my all time fave @mydoctor to share the top 10 songs on my on repeat playlist -- this is tough, these songs literally change on a weekly basis lol i also added links and commentary bc i'm here to waste tiiiiiime babes

1. espionage - rainbow kitten surprise (so swanky, such a vibe, just learned that like half this band is trans, i'm so in love)

2. kiss city - blondshell (this one's for bitches who yearn)

3. dreams (acoustic) - the cranberries

4. know who you are at every age - the cocteau twins (the student who shared this song with me got an A in my class and maybe this song was part of the reason why)

5. mulholland's dinner and wine - declan mckenna

6. i want you - marvin gaye (oh god this song is for expert yearners, i think getting wine drunk in new mexico and listening to this song on the walk back to my motel will go down as one of the fondest memories of my life)

7. image - magdalena bay

8. lady gaga - peso pluma (i saw him at gov ball last year and it fucked up my tiktok algorithm for weeks)

9. money trees - kendrick lamar (probably my fave of his entire discography which really should tell u something about this song)

i'm tagging some friends but no pressure ya'll, i just love discovering new music @twobrokenwyngs @old-long-john @girlfan @dykerory @chirpchirpmuahaha @swordfisherking @arthurwilde @astronomical-light @jellyfitzjelly @deadendtracks @tenderheliotrope (also if you're reading this and wanna do this, do it!! consider yourself tagged by me so i can read your answers ♡)

[shantismurf]

Author Q&A with amethystviolist, 3/15/2025

The third week of our author appreciation month featured @amethystviolist's Of Kin And Courtships, A Hairy Misunderstanding, and When Silver Fails Here are their q&a responses:

Author Q&A with amethystviolist

1. What name would you like us to use and what are your pronouns? My name is Peregrine, and my pronouns are they/them.

2. How long have you been in the Book Club, and how long have you been writing fanfiction? What fandoms have you written for? I joined the BBC server on June 13th, 2024, so I haven't even been here a year yet! I've been writing fanfic since late middle school, though I think my oldest works on AO3 are from when I was in high school in the 2010's. On AO3 I've written for Supernatural, How to Train Your Dragon, Merlin, The Adventure Zone, and of course, LOTR and The Hobbit.

3. What do you think of as your writing style - are you a plotter or pantster? Not to be a fence-sitter, but I'm a bit of both and it depends on the fic which way I lean! Usually, the longer the fic the more plotting I do, but even that is usually just general bullet points. Some fics are completely improvised - "When Silver Fails", for example, had absolutely no plot beforehand and just took shape as I went.

4. What’s your favorite genre/trope to write? I love found family SO much. I also like writing with humor, as I think I'm funny, and I like sharing that with people and making them laugh! But I've gotten several comments that I've made people cry, too.

5. Is there a genre/trope you haven't written as much of yet that you're excited about for future writing? I'm most excited to keep working on (and hopefully finally finish) my dragon!Bilbo long fic (bc this fandom always needs more dragon content!). I started it years ago but picked it up again last year and it's ballooned into something like 150k now, and I'm not even done!

6. Was there an idea, prompt, or scene that inspired each story? Hmm. "A Hairy Misunderstanding" was prompted by me noticing the difference in hair length and the likely cultural differences around that. It's been a long time since I wrote that fic, but I remember wanting to see Bilbo aggressively, protectively loved by his found family even if there was no actual threat.

For "When Silver Fails," I started with just the idea of Thorin finding out Bilbo had a title in the Shire. Then I extrapolated from there with the signet ring convo, and, well, they're in love and the story went from there.

"Of Kin And Courtships" of course was part of THAUC 2024, so we had a specific prompt (it's in the fic summary). We almost immediately decided to interpret the prompt as funny instead of angsty just to subvert expectations, and brainstormed together from there!

7. Did you do any special research for any of the works? Nope, haha. I think the only research I did on all three of these was in regard to family trees. I had to see how closely Bilbo was related to the Thain for WSF, and Evelyn and I wanted to confirm who of the Company were officially part of the Line of Durin and who technically weren't for OKAC.

8. Did the stories change from how you originally envisioned them? Were there scenes or plot elements you had to cut out, or unexpected additions? WSF definitely took me the most by surprise. I didn't really expect my idea of Bilbo's titles to go anywhere, and certainly not into my personal favorite feelings-reveal I've ever written! I did have to cut a line that Bilbo was stealing paper off other people's desks prior to getting access to Thorin's drawer of parchment, just bc it wasn't flowing well.

When we planned out OKAC, we originally planned for the background ship to be Dwalin/Nori. Then we found out I'm incapable of writing a platonic rivalry lol, and we agreed to move to Dwalin/Nori/Bofur (probably in a hinge situation). Evelyn had a great scene in which Bilbo tried to blackmail Nori like "You're with Dwalin but I know you've been seeing Bofur" only for Nori to reveal Dwalin already knew and was chill, but that he admired the blackmail attempt (bc he's Nori). We had to cut that scene mostly for time reasons as we had a deadline, and I'm still sad about it!

9. What was the collaboration process like for "Of Kin and Courtships"? It was really interesting! Neither of us had ever done THAUC before, and weren't sure how to go about it. We settled on planning out the whole thing together and then 'claiming' certain scenes to write. Then at the end we stitched them all together into a final product. I really lucked out that Evelyn is a great writer and that our ideas for the story aligned well!

10. Are there any meanings or inspirations behind the titles for the works? Hahaha, I struggle very much with titles! But some of them, yes. AHM is a sort of punny name, I thought it was clever and funny. OKAC was just an acceptable title that one of us came up with at the last minute before uploading our fic (not sure which of us tbh!).

WSF is probably the only meaningful title of the three - I almost called it "Tactical Diplomacy" but realized I had another fic with a similar title already. I was then inspired by the idea of Thorin being a blacksmith who struggled with talking to people vs Bilbo's polite silver tongue, as that's the central comparison in the fic. It's one of my favorite titles I've come up with to date.

11. Do you have a favorite line or moment from any of the works? Fun question! Let's see…

AHM: “Er, you do realize, of course, that cutting my hair is very normal to me?” The dwarves all looked newly broken by this news, and Bilbo huffed at his poor wording. “No, no!"

[I just think this is hilarious.]

WSF: Joy bubbled in his chest like molten ore brimming with creative possibilities, or rather, perhaps like a good, hearty stew waiting on the stove after a long day. Courting Bilbo was at once both familiar as coming home, and as exhilarating as beginning a new project. A comfortable adventure, he might call his love, if Bilbo himself would not loudly protest the existence of such a thing.

[I'm really proud of the symbolism here, the hobbitish vs dwarvish imagery; plus I think the end is funny]

OKAC: Bilbo glanced at it, then set it down on the table as though it were made of thin glass. And then, burying his face in his hands, the gentlehobbit who’d unflinchingly faced a dragon suddenly burst into tears.

[I rarely write Bilbo showing emotion freely. This was a powerful moment for me to write, as well as what comes right after with him being overwhelmed by being wanted so deeply by a new family.]

Oh! I forgot to ask why you chose these works!!

Oh sure! I chose OKAC simply because it was the only fic long enough to qualify on its own lol. But I chose AHM and WSF to go together on purpose, because they have similar settings and are similar lengths, but I wrote them about seven years apart. I think it’s interesting to compare how my writing style and understanding of the same characters changed over that time!

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[mp3stealer]

Sims 4 bitching and moaning hdhdhs

Disclaimer just in case I say something stupid: Not Jewish, Not Muslim. Culturally Christian(?). I do not own the wedding pack as I heard it was busted, and I just have sims elope anyway since wedding themselves haven’t worked very well for the majority of the 6 or 7 years I’ve been playing ts4 lol

I���m replacing all the npcs with my own handmade households, I don’t intend to play as 98% of the ppl I’ll be making, but I want to ensure that this save file will have like… a wide range of

Trying to make a hijabi sim, got frustrated bc most clothing for the sims women are basically suctioned to their body. There was a lot ‘rule googling’ and so many of my outfits weren’t passing the sniff check no matter how hard I tried. Cc helps a little but since I run mm, the options get can be a lil limited. More long layering skirts and shirts as accessories would help. Ea clothing in the game itself makes hard too, idk what I would do if I were a console player.

All the dresses end at like the knee/mid calf and the ones that don’t tend to have cleavage windows, open arms, or again, are suctioned to the body. The game includes 3 hijabs, but the game auto blocks all but the ugly swim one from a handful of outfit categories.

Also smaller complaint but I went to a hijabi fashion blog and some of the girls were wearing non religious hats on top. The sims wouldn’t allow this, as they count the hijab itself as a hat.

(Kinda reminds me of the issue where instead of making the binder an accessory that yknow. Goes under your shirts. They count it as a tank top. They expect ur binding sims to just wear the binder as a crop top? It also does not minimize the chest AT ALL. unless ur sim is already mostly flat. They also have it set for sleeping and working out.)

Anyways though, upon realizing how little there was for Muslims I was like. Damn. Do they have content for Jewish ppl??? I knew there was a menorah but my search lead me to find (a lot of this info was from an sims 4 forum user):

There is no kippah. There is a hair covering that I think is meant to be the tichel. They added matzo ball soup and challah. Haven’t tried this, so this could have changed, but supposedly when you light the menorah you get a happy buff represented by a Christmas tree.

But like as others had pointed sims 4 does kinda just. Default to a ‘Christian neutral’. They added churches for sims to get married in to the wedding pack but there’s likely never gonna be a mosque or a synagogue in game… imagine how pretty they could make a world with arabic architecture… also two Jewish recipes is not enough, I knew that much without googling

Also sorry, thought of another thing… how am I supposed to have these sims follow dietary guidelines 😭 like best I can do is make them lactose intolerant vegetarians but that’s wasting most of their personality traits. Like I won’t be playing as them but idk??? It just seems like a cool thing they could add if they’re gonna make sims 4 their last stop forever

[sadisthetic]

hi. this is my dnd character for toonkind dnd that i first made 7 years ago that ive recycled twice now because i wanted to finally play an ongoing campaign with him. for his third life, not only did i give him a design update, hes also has undergone a MAJOR overhaul in terms of personality and backstory tho i kept some bare basics the same (human ranger with urchin background who LOVES swords and knifes A LOT. and that he has an ambiguous age) the overhaul includes the isekai. and that hes a cunt now. but hes funnier now too lol.

im adding some more details and trivia about him under the readmore

so like if it isnt obvious the double isekai is meant to mirror the fact that i fucking played with him in 3 separate campaigns now. its part of him metatextually now lol. he was such a different guy tho. an EXTREMELY LOYAL guy. now hes significantly more selfish. and rude as hell. but hes not that to be mean or malicious. hes actually a pretty nice guy hes just extremely inconsiderate bc he prioritizes his own wellbeing most of the time. its how he had to grow up

copy pasting this tweet i wrote about him "blade at 15 was a guy that shouldve been playing halo while drinking monster but instead hes a guy stealing apples and eating mushrooms off tree bark. miraculously few instances of poisoning all things considered"

he wouldve been a fucking gamer otaku fr. he got isekaied in the mid 2000s and as a kid he fucking LOVED watching dragonball on saturday mornings. if he got to be a teen on earth, he would eventually found the anime and gaming subcommunities online BUT ALAS. he grew up trying to catch fish with his bare hands. or at least he did until he gave up quick and ate weeds.

also. despite the hardships. hes like. fine? somethings wrong with him. but its not trauma. he didnt mourn his parents much although its not like he couldve done anything with their freshly isekaied corpses when immediately hes being chased by fucking beasts. its okay they were like b-tier parents. (hes definitely not a normal person.)

he wandered the woods trying his best to survive alone and in spite of everything trying to kill him (including the shit he ate...) he ended up in a nearby(?) town and things got a bit easier after that. because he could fucking steal to eat real food now. he stayed in the woods on the outskirts of town bc no one showed grace to a thief and just dropped in every so often to swipe shit. steadily he learned forage (through sheer trial and error)

he was highkey a menace. but eventually in his late teens, a traveling party gave him an idea to like fucking. get a job. as something. he managed to make it work as a ranger/guide for hire

he fucking loves booze. he absolutely underage drank. when he could steal it. and later pay for it. and also even though he could pay for things as an adult, he still steals shit if he thinks he can get away w it (he has an absurdly (or at least pretty) high sleight of hand stat)

before he got isekai'd a second time, went through a CATASTROPHIC DIVORCE with an elf woman who he met in an expedition party who became enamored with him after he saved her life. the uh. fallout happened bc blade didnt realize (and still hasnt realized) that hes kinda aro (fundamentally did not understand her romantic intentions and thought she was just a friend wanted to hang out w him a lot. those were dates.) and his ex didnt realize how onesided it was bc she was so love with him. geez.

also. he was from arizona. hes half white half mexican. but with all the time spent not speaking spanish in a different fucking world, it made any spanish speaking skills he had atrophy to hell. it happens and it was bound to happen bc he was so young and had like no reason or opportunity to practice.

also he chose his name. he hated his lame ass name so much he was like "wait. i dont have to use it anymore." but he was 13 fucking years old. anyways he thought blade sounded cool for a name. knifedad happened later when he got his first knife. he still had a bad naming sense. he was 14.

also although his ethics are kinda wack, whats important to note is that he ultimately doesnt want anyone to like. die. its like his policy. save people that he can while trying his best to not die himself

he also has a soft spot for kids. whether hed bc a good dad is debatable but like. i think hed be a nice one

most important note: his longsword is named Darla, his dagger is named Samantha, the knife in his pack is named Nicky, and his newly acquired strange glowy sword is named lucia, and he wants a cool greatsword very very very fucking bad

i drew him in his under clothing also so that i could have a better sense for his body type when i designed his new outfit im adding it here too. he has a shitton of scars bc hes the type that pisses ppl off that they wanna shank him and also he routinely eats shit a lot. a lot of the scars in this sketch are pretty random except for one specific injury for a certain backstory event i have in mind