#I’m captain of this little paddle board now

[khazadspoon]

WMM here, seeing as ur taking prompts again uhhhh How about Gil/Jesus, maybe something to do with loyalty we've talked about this before but umm... After that episode of Jesus willing to die for a mistake that wasn't even his fault, Gil maybe takes that into a account Jesus' loyalty.... ummm idk *sweats*

This isn’t exactly what I was imagining but it wasn’t coming out so have this 😭 but thank you as always for the prompt my friend 🙏

———

“Jesús.”

The name was called from across the camp, a voice that inspired a myriad of emotions in almost everyone who heard it. Apprehension, joy, concern, fondness and uncertainty alike. It was a voice that had quickly become a part of daily life for Jesús, and he swung between emotions each time he heard it.

He put the saddle he was examining down carefully and dusted his jeans with sweaty palms. There was trepidation in his gut as he walked over to the owner of that voice.

“Yes, Señor Favor?” His voice was calm, thankfully, not betraying the sudden fear he was about to lose his job.

“C’mere, take a seat.”

Gil Favor was sat on a fallen tree, there was a small notebook on one knee, a pencil in one hand and an unlit cigarette in the other. He stared down at the open notebook, occasionally tapping the pencil on it.

Jesús sat. He kept a foot of space between them.

“Have I… done something wrong?” He asked. Silently he sent a prayer to the Blessed Mother for strength.

Señor Favor flicked his eyes up, the action only visible because his hat was by his feet, and frowned. “Wrong? No! No, not at all. I’m not tryin’ to tell you off, boy, far from it.”

“…oh.” Jesús swallowed and took his hat off. His heart started to beat wildly in his chest.

“Listen. I know I ain’t the most complimentary of men. I’m a bad tempered fool and I know it. But I like to think I’m fair.” He paused, turned his head and smiled at Jesús. His lips, though thin, curved pleasantly in the wide and generous smile. It was a handsome smile, one Jesús had often admired from afar. “Wanted to tell you you’re the best damn wrangler I’ve ever worked with.”

Jesús found himself grinning as well. “I am?”

The trail boss nodded and tucked his notebook back in his breast pocket. “You are. I know it’s been a hard drive, and I don’t want you thinkin’ you’re not appreciated. Or that you need to go kicking yourself for something that ain’t your fault.”

A hand, warm and large and firm, clasped his shoulder. The thumb rubbed across the tendon joining his shoulder to his neck, and Jesús nearly shivered.

“You’ve got a place here, for as long as you want it.” The taller man squeezed his shoulder again. “If you want it, that is.”

Jesús nodded. “I do want it,” he breathed, “to- to stay, I mean, Señor Favor.”

He saw the man’s eyes flick down and heat bloomed cautiously in his chest. Gil blinked and licked his lips. Jesús watched the movement. He saw the softening of his boss’ eyes, the way his jaw tightened as he swallowed. The hand on his shoulder loosened its grip and shifted. It drifted up, the thumb grazing the skin of Jesús neck. The breath caught in his chest and Jesús held himself still even as anticipation coiled around him, tight and warm and exciting.

Señor Favor blinked and drew away. He cleared his throat and dropped his hand, the warmth lingering on Jesús’ shoulder.

“Well. That- that’s all I wanted to say, really. Just… don’t go trying to throw your life away over a mistake that weren’t yours next time, got it?” He looked up as he spoke, his voice firm and just a little stern.

Jesús looked down at his hat and nodded. “Of course, Señor Favor.”

“Good,” he slapped his thigh and stood up, stretched his back with an audible pop. “I better get back to the herd, see how Quince is handling things.”

“I’ll saddle your horse-”

“No, no, its alright,” Gil held out a hand to stop him. “I got it. Get yourself something to eat, could be a long night. I think there’s some bad weather coming our way.”

Jesús watched him go, kept his eyes up instead of watching the sway of his hips, and let out a long sigh. On one hand, he was appreciated and valued by the one man it mattered most from. On the other, he knew that the attraction he felt went both ways. A dangerous situation to be in, indeed.

[heliads]

going down with the ship - britcedes

There are two people left on a sinking ship. One is Lewis. The other is George.

masterlist

There are two people left on a sinking ship. Well, more than two. There are, of course, dozens trapped in holds and cabins, held back by wreckage or condemned to flooding chambers. But there are two people who have a chance at getting out. One is Lewis. The other is George.

Lewis has found a door and a paddle, and will use his own strength to carry him away. George is sitting on the highest point of the slowly sinking ship, a polished, curved section of the balcony of one of the nicer decks, the one where the heirs and heiresses used to promenade when the sun was out and they were not sinking. At one point, when the ship had already rolled and pitched until the bow was looming considerably far out of the water, he had been the tallest one around for kilometers. 

Now, the boat has slowly, lethargically sunk, and George is hardly a few lengths from the water’s surface. It creeps towards him constantly, dark and cold, swallowing every bit of light it touches like the keening maw of an animal. Lewis floats just within arm’s reach, asking him to leave with the soft and smooth tone typically directed towards those in risk of going mad. His door is disconcertingly red, either from blood or a bad paint job. It looks garish against the dark water. George turns away from it instinctively. In a situation like this, one must always maintain their dignity.

George focuses on the lapping of the water against the pristinely painted hull, letting it drown out the sounds of Lewis’ faint pleas. He will have to go at some point, perhaps. Or maybe he could stay here. Stand resolute on the shining wood until the water takes him. It would make a beautiful sight.

“We can still make it out,” Lewis says. 

He’s starting to lose the calm lilt to his words as the dark water creeps increasingly closer to the worn shoes of George’s feet. He had been a cabin boy in another life, George, or maybe just the life that had existed a few hours ago, before the grand and glorious ship struck an iceberg, before the immaculate hull was pierced, before the masterpiece of engineering design became no better than a stone in the largest puddle it could hope to see. Before the end, George had run around from first class cabin to first class cabin, refilling drinks, bowing and scraping, and wearing his uniform with pride. Always better to be the lowest of the high than the highest of the low, George’s father had told him once. And he’d done it better than anyone else on board.

“The captain goes down with the ship,” George tells him obstinately. He can’t help but puff out his chest a little as he says it. There is a certain heroism that comes with self-sacrifice. If George were a hunting dog with its paw caught in the trap, he would not gnaw off his leg to escape. He would sit there, brave and proud, until his owner found him; until they let him go; until they patted his matted chest and told him that he had been the very best.

Lewis sighs, but does it tenderly. “You’re not the captain.”

George’s eyes cut to him. They’ve gone red with the cold. “I’m the best they’ve got, anyways,” he says haughtily.

Lewis sighs again. It is less tender and more frustrated this time. “There’s no one left to rescue. This isn’t your job, George. You’re supposed to save yourself first.”

George looks darkly at Lewis’ makeshift raft. “Is that what you did?” He asks tauntingly.

“Yes,” Lewis answers him simply, “It is.”

George scoffs. “You should have seen if there were other people who needed help first.”

“I thought that’s what I was doing right now,” Lewis says. “Seeing if people need help.”

George turns his head away, fixing his eyes on the moon and widening them until the light spills like milk onto his upturned face. Twin pools of white in a chalky complexion. It’s like he’s dead already. “I don’t need help.”

“That’s what the rest of them said,” Lewis replies with chagrin.

George’s head snaps back to him, the corpse no longer dead yet. “So I wasn’t your first choice? What if your raft had filled up already? Would you have let me drown?”

“I thought the captain went down with the ship,” Lewis snaps, then closes his eyes briefly, remembering patience, and replies a bit more forcefully than he’d planned, “You can argue about that with me once you’re off the ship. Come on now, we don’t have much time.”

He’s right. George can feel the cold water biting into the holes in his shoes. He hates it; the captain wouldn’t have gaps like broken teeth in his fine Oxfords, it would disrespect the uniform, the position. Yet the frigid soon-to-be ice pools around his toes, biting against the threadbare socks, slipping through all the places he’s had to darn the fading fabric when it tore again, again, again.

“It’s not proper to leave like this,” he says remarkably calmly. “It’s like quitting.”

Lewis practically reels backwards in his attempt to keep his cool. He manages to stave off laughter, but indignation comes quick on its heels, and that he cannot avoid. “Quitting,” he spits out. “The ship is sinking. It has already sunk. There’s nothing left, George. For either of us.”

George goes silent again. Moody. Was he always like this, or just now, faced with the reality of Lewis’ abandonment?

Lewis extends his hand one last time. “George, please. Save yourself.”

He has to go soon, or he’ll be pulled under too, dragged down by that awful current. Lewis can already feel it tugging impatiently at his makeshift raft. All things go, and will go down into those freezing depths if he does not start moving right now.

George is glancing away again, peering closely at the ship below him in the shadowy waves. “I think I see the captain in one of the windows. I need to get to him.”

Lewis laughs bitterly. Sadness drenches the sound. “I thought you were the captain, George. There can only be one.”

George doesn’t look back. He’s busy staring at a waving shade in a broken window far beneath the surface that might be the captain, or might be nothing at all. A trick of the light. They are all alone here. When he glances back up, Lewis is gone. He thinks he might hear the splash of an oar in the distance, or maybe that’s the water around his waist.

He shouts in anger, in rage. This betrayal will never be forgotten, and when George gets himself out, Lewis will be sorry he ever thought about leaving George like this. Weren’t they friends? George is going to swim away, far away. He’s strong and he’s fast and he will cut through the black water like a knife. 

He just has to go back for the captain first, but the captain is far below him. And getting closer. Closer than Lewis. Closer than the obsidian sea closing over his head.

f1 tag list: @j-brielmalfoy, @juphey, @faerieroyal

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[camaro-and-smokes]

Get Out of My Dreams, Get into My Car

Chapter 7: You Got It

Notes: Moodboard by the lovely @a-redharlequin 💜

Summary: Billy had already given Steve an hour-long lecture about the basics, taught Steve to wax his board, and assured that they wouldn’t even have to catch waves today. Unless Steve specifically wanted. Steve didn’t. But he might still try it though if it got Billy's attention.

Read on AO3 >>

:::::::::::::::

On the next morning, Steve was waiting for Billy in their living room wearing his new wetsuit.

“You can swim, can you?” Billy asked Steve with a smirk, pulling the zipper of his own wetsuit closed as he passed Steve on his way to his board.

“I was the captain of the swimming team in high school and a lifeguard at the community pool for two summers. I can swim,” Steve huffed mock-offended, holding his board up. Though, yes, while he was a strong swimmer, The Pacific ocean was a whole another beast than Lake Michigan where he’d spend his childhood summers.

“Just checking,” Billy chuckled, and patted Steve on the shoulder. “C’mon, let’s get started,” he continued and walked out into the sunshine from their living room.

The day was glorious; warm breeze ensured the heat of the sun wasn’t too much and kept the waves small. People were gathered on the beach, seagulls were screeching in the distance.

It wasn’t even midday yet, but Steve had decided not to risk it with his pale skin and had covered every area that wasn’t protected by the wetsuit as much sunscreen as he could. His nose was white with the excess, but better to be careful than sorry.

Billy had already given Steve an hour-long lecture about the basics, taught Steve to wax his board, and assured that they wouldn’t even have to catch waves today. Unless Steve specifically wanted.

Steve didn’t.

He’d tried to keep a brave face throughout, but the closer they got to getting into the water, the more nervous he became. When they were practicing the pop-up on the beach, he couldn’t keep it in anymore. He sat down on the board and looked at Billy, who was on his own board displaying the right position. “Listen, Billy…”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think…this is for me.”

“How so?” Billy asked, sounding genuinely curious.

“All this…safety and technique and…”

Steve hadn’t expected Billy’s smile to be so gentle. “You have practiced new skills before, haven’t you?”

“Yeah…”

“So, you know you gotta do the thing in order to master it. Right?”

Steve chewed his cheek.

“Hey. You said you wanted to try this. This was your idea. But we don’t have to do this. I’m not forcing you to do anything.”

Steve had half hoped Billy would’ve at least sounded annoyed. But of course he didn’t. He was a professional instructor, no matter what. “Yeah, I know.”

Billy sat down on his own board and wrapped his arms loosely around his knees. “I was happy when I saw you in all that gear when I came home the other day. It felt like…” He shook his head and smiled. “It felt like you wanted to try something new and fun, something I liked and…I got really excited. Everyone here knows how to surf and how amazing it is. It felt great you wanted to learn, too.” He paused, looking at the sand, and then looked back up at Steve. “And I thought it would be great to have a hobby we could do together.”

Steve instantly felt like shit. He knew why he was being such a chicken. He was already so far outside his comfort zone, trying this, and, in addition, finally having Billy’s undivided attention. It was all exactly what he’d wanted. Maybe he hadn’t realized how easy it would get it and now he was like a fish out of water. Suddenly, he hoped that he’d have the chance to call Robin and ask her for assurance that he was doing the right thing.

“We’re this far already,” Billy pleaded. “Why not go a bit further and get into the water? Just try staying on the board and paddle a little? No need to even try the pop-up.”

Steve couldn’t help smiling. “You sound like you’ve taught kids at some point.”

“I have. Still do.”

Steve realized that this was something he, even after two months of living with Billy, had no idea of. “Really?”

Billy nodded with a wide smile. “Yeah. Every Saturday morning.”

Steve’s stomach dropped. “You…turned down kids to teach me instead?”

“No, they were gone before you got up. They come in at sunrise, we ride some waves, I give them pointers, and then they’re gone around nine. And it’s not a paying gig. They’re kids from foster care. Argyle’s shop did a fundraiser that got these kids here. He provides the gear, and I donated my time in order to get them into it.”

The way Billy’s face lit up when he spoke about the kids made something fuzzy swell in Steve’s chest. “You’ve actually managed to get them to come here at that hour?”

“The time wasn’t my idea. The kids want to come here the moment they wake up. And since I live here on the beach, it’s not a problem. I salute the foster parents who make it happen.”

Steve bit his lip and nodded. This was a whole new aspect to Billy, and he liked it. A lot. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

The smile that spread across Billy’s face alone was worth a try, at least.

Billy was glad the mention of the kids got Steve to at least give the real deal a try. He led them into thigh-high water with Steve’s board. “Okay, we’ll just try paddling. Nothing more.”

“Yeah, okay,” Steve replied, sitting onto the board that Billy held in place, and laid down.

The waves were small, but big enough to go over the board and directly on his face. He tried paddling, but the waves kept pushing back, and he lost his balance from the first wave that hit him, making him fall into the water. He tried again, with the same result. “How do you stay on this thing?”

“I told you, you gotta start paddling at once if you don’t want to get overthrown by these baby-waves,” Billy said and came to help again. “Go on, try again. I’ll keep you steady so that you get the idea.”

Steve laid down on the board once again, facing the open ocean and the waves that were coming at him lazily.

Billy took a deep breath, knowing he would have to touch Steve, but this time without an excuse, and grabbed the board from both sides, his other arm over Steve’s legs. “Okay, now start paddling,” he said as he gently pushed the board through the first wave, then the second while Steve paddled with his both hands and propelled the board forward. When they got through the first three waves, Billy let go. “Now you got it!”

The board glided through the small waves, up and down, through one and down again. Steve couldn’t help smiling. This was amazing, and he wasn’t yet even actually surfing. He turned his head to shout to Billy how great this was, but that, of course, distracted him. A slightly bigger wave made him lose his balance, plunging him into the turquoise. He was rolling in the water and took a gulp of the saltwater, of course inhaling it. Panicking, he got disoriented for a while until a firm hand caught his arm and pulled him above the surface. He started coughing immediately.

“Hey, you’re okay,” Billy said and rubbed Steve’s back. “You’re on the surface.”

“Mayb—maybe we’re…” Steve started, but he had to halt to cough more water from his lungs. “…done for today,” he finally wheezed.

“Yeah, I agree,” Billy replied with a smile, giving Steve’s shoulder a gentle squeeze and taking the board, leading them back to the beach.

Steve sat down on the side of the wooden terrace of the bungalow to take a proper breath and have his heartbeat slow down a little.

Billy pushed Steve’s board to stand in the sand. Before sitting next to Steve, he opened his wetsuit, pushing the top part of it to hang on his hips.

Steve made a point of not looking.

“Hey, that can happen to anyone,” Billy said, pushing his hair back from his face with his hand. “I’ve taken a dive like that more times than I can count.”

“I have sand everywhere,” Steve muttered.

Billy let out a soft laugh. “Yeah, probably.”

“You ever thought you might drown when surfing?”

“Not drowning, no, not really. Though worried about being bitten by a shark once, yes.”

“Oh god,” Steve moaned and buried his face in his hands. “I’d forgotten those.”

“Hey,” Billy said, patting Steve’s shoulder. “That was one time. One, and I’ve surfed my whole life—apart those few years in Hawkins. It’s not as frequent as it’s made to be. More of bad luck. If you get bitten, that is.”

“I don’t know if I can try again.”

“Maybe now is not the best moment to decide that. You being shocked and all.”

Steve glanced at Billy, who was looking back at with a kind smile. “I bet you’re great with the kids.”

Billy’s smile widened. “You should come a watch sometime. The kids are amazing.”

Steve smiled a little. “Maybe I will.”

“Wanna get rid of all the sand?”

“Preferably.”

“You gotta take off the suit out here on the terrace and let it dry. Then you can just shake it all out. If you bring it in wet, there’s sand everywhere inside too. I prefer keeping the sand here on the beach.”

“Sure, I’ll do that. Would you bring me a towel?”

“Yeah.”

When Billy went back out with the towel and a bottle of water for the both of them, Steve had removed the top of the wetsuit and was looking at the surfers that were riding waves further on the beach.

Billy swallowed. He didn’t remember Steve having that much chest hair in high-school. He didn’t care for that much hair on his men, but on Steve…He was willing to make an exception.

“I’m proud that you tried,” he said to Steve as he gave him the towel.

Steve took it, now smiling a little. “Yeah. Well, I had to,” he said as he wrapped the towel around his waist and stepped out of the wetsuit. “You kept pestering me about it. I really had no choice.”

“Me? Pestering? Never,” Billy said with a smirk, mock-offended.

Steve was smiling, too, and Billy knew there was something happening between them, even if he wasn’t entirely sure what. Steve had bought everything he’d need for surfing, just like that, and asking nothing from him. No tips, what kind of board to get…Honestly, it would’ve made more sense for Steve to ask him to borrow a suit and a board from him for the first few tries rather than just buy his own out of the blue. But Steve had surprised him with this whole thing, suddenly wanting to try and having all the gear…So, either he had really gotten the idea of try surfing stuck to Steve’s mind or…Billy didn’t want to let himself go there, but he knew he already had; Steve wanted to try something Billy loved to get to know him better.

Billy looked as Steve downed the entire water bottle in one swig. Steve fit on the beach. The wind blew his hair all over, but he didn’t seem to mind. He was tall and fit, and sure, maybe he was a little pale, but that would be fixed if he wanted to get on the board again. And besides, the moles he was dotted with, they stood out better like this. Billy found himself thinking he wanted to touch them, to examine them one by one, trail them with his finger, find all the constellations hidden in them.

He felt hope in his heart for the first time, even though he knew it was dangerous. From all his previous experience, he’d learned that hope was a recipe for a disaster. But Steve, he surely wouldn’t do that to him? Break his heart?

When Steve finished his water, he glanced at Billy and caught him staring. Billy’s soft gaze made something warm bloomed in his chest. “What?” he asked, smiling.

Billy smiled back. “Nothing. Just thought you fit on the beach.”

“I do?”

Billy nodded, folding his arms over his chest. “Maybe you’re a bit too pale to fit in properly, but we can fix that.”

“I’m still not sure if I want to get back on the board.”

“That’s okay. You can stay on land and watch. Work on your tan instead.”

Steve laughed. “Sure.”

They looked at the other surfers for a moment again. Steve felt that he’d accomplished something even if the try had ended in a disaster. Though, he also felt stupid, even though he knew no one could handle something like this on the first try. But he’d fallen off, rolled in sand, and inhaled salt water right in front of Billy, which made it extra humiliating. He hadn’t wanted to mess up that badly.

“Don’t worry about the fall,” Billy said, as if he’d heard Steve’s thoughts. “You tried, and that is enough as itself.”

Yeah, Steve was proud about that, of trying. And that Billy acknowledged it. He’d done what he set out to do; to get Billy’s attention. This was a good start.

“Hey, go ahead and take a shower. I can take one after you. Won’t hog all the hot water from you,” Billy said, winking, and took Steve’s wetsuit and hung it to the hook next to the terrace door.

“Well, that’s a first,” Steve said with a short laugh as he walked inside.

[graha-stan-account]

FFXIV Write 2024; Day 3: Tempest

Ja’zerrau kicked at the weather-beaten ticket booth. “Whaddaya mean my ticket’s no good?! I got these fair and square from the skipper of that merchant ship!”

“I’m sorry there, lass. Captain’s purview. The seat’s been given to someone else, ‘m afraid.”

“To someone else!” She gritted her teeth, tail going rigid and hunching over in rage. “And how am I to cross the Indigo Deep now, ha? I’m to snag a skiff and paddle my way to Yok Tural, am I?”

“Lass,” he sighed loudly, “I don’t care a whit what ya do, jus’ don’ do it here.”

“A refund then? I gave that turncoat lout good money.”

“Have to see the capn’ about that, lass. But I’m afraid she’s already set sail.”

“What?”

“Shoved off ‘bout ‘alf a bell ago. Couple moons, he’ll return, if ya can wait it out, lass.”

She growled, slammed the bum promise of passage on the counter and stalked away.

-

Zerrau was seething, tucked low at her table at The Drowning Wench, sipping on something more like seawater than ale.

“How’s that swill treating you?” Zerrau looked up to see Matilda looking positively pleasant, coy even. Zerrau grumbled in response. “Now, now,” Matilda said, taking the chair beside her and skittering closer until their seats bumped. “What if I told you something wonderful?”

“You found that captain and you’ll let me clobber ‘em?”

“No, Rau. I’ve found us another means of passage. For all of us. For free.”

“Free? How’d you manage that?”

Matilda smiled. “A lady doesn’t tell.” She chuckled.

“So when do we shove off to Tural?”

“Oh, well you see... it’s a different port.”

“Which? In the north then?”

“Certainly so...” She curled a bit of hair behind her ear with a finger. “Quite north, in fact.”

“What’s the port of call?” Zerrau scrutinized Matilda, unsure why she was teasing the details.

“First port of call is Old.. ah...,” she watched her boot scuff against the floor. “Old Sharlayan.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, do I look like I’m made for the cold, Matty?” Zerrau stiffened, her chair squealing against the floor boards, and with a heavy thud, her axe leaned against he chair clattered to the floor.

“It’s really not harsh this time of year. At least that’s what I’ve heard.” Matilda’s eyes were wide, hands grasping at the air, ready to placate.

“What in seven hells are we going to do there?!”

“Well, I....” She flushed pink. “I’d love to tour some of their libraries.” She looked at her hands. “It’s the first time in a long time their travel mandates have relaxed.”

“An’ what’s our main destination? Some dusty old magician’s herb garden?”

“Nothing of the sort!” She ducked to whisper to her tablemate. “The merchant I found said more trade routes have opened up recently. We get free passage in exchange for helping with the cargo. I may have oversold yours and Llashallir’s strength, buuut...”

“I’m not worried about that. What the hell are we going there for, really, though?”

“Well, the merchant said there’s an active guild of gatherers and special procurement agents the Sharlayans make good use of. There’s a recent trend driving their scholars to request samples of a particular ore found on one of the islands north of the capital. Rather high in demand.”

“I still don’t see--”

“I’m coming to it, Rau, have a little patience!” She sighed the exasperation out of her voice before continuing. “It’s called the Isle of Haam.”

“Ham?”

“Haam. And they’ve a little problem with feral beasts. Easy coin for you, I figure.”

Zarrau twisted her mouth, squinted, rubbed her chin, then touched a hand to her ear where the linkpearl chirped to life.

“Boys, we sail at dawn.”

The ship they had contracted with did not, in fact, set sail at dawn, nor were all of the recipients of her message boys.

[its-me-jessi]

Love Finds Its Way PT9

Pairing: Ivar X Reader

Summary: Y/N and Ivar need to find a way to get ashore as quickly as possible, which turns out to be quite difficult to master, considering the external conditions. Eventually, however, they find a way out of their misery.

Part 1 Part 10

Underwater, I didn't notice any of the commotion on board. I only heard the muffled sound of the lifeboat as it hit the water's surface and as I looked up, I saw Ivar dive into the water soon after. Relieved to see him, seemingly unharmed, I smiled. At the same time, I was worried about him. He shouldn’t be doing this! He shouldn’t be here; he should be up there. The lifeboat alone did not mean that we were safe and had nothing more to fear. Who knows how long the boat would hold out? It would not withstand a violent storm, that was as clear as mud. Just one tiny leak would be enough to sink this boat and, in the worst case, with us on board. So, even with a lifeboat, the chances of survival were not very high, not if we didn't hit land soon, and to be honest, it didn't look like that was going to happen any time soon. If only I had to struggle with the situation on my own, but now Ivar's life was also hanging by a thread. I didn't want that. This was not how it was supposed to be! He didn't deserve this! Feeling that I was running out of air, I swam to the surface. Slowly but surely my lungs were desperate for oxygen. Arrived at the surface, I held on to the small boat and first of all I took a deep breath. Shortly after me, Ivar came to the surface as well and did the same. “Ivar!”, I nearly just whispered, “why did you jump after me?! You might die out here!”. “Then so be it!“, he looked at me determinedly while numerous drops of water dripped from the tips of his hair and ran down his face. “But I don’t want you to!”, I stressed, looking at him worried and sad. “Go back on the ship! Please, Ivar!”, I begged him, “I don’t want you to die!”. “Well, I don’t want you to die either”, totally ignoring my request he tilted the boat a little more to one side, before helping me to get on it. “Ivar”, I whispered his name again, hoping he would change his mind. “If I’m really going to die …”, he swung himself onto the boat, “then at least I’ll be by your side!”.

While I was trying to convince Ivar to get himself into safety, Hvitserk watched us while being held back by two men. “Let them be!”, he spoke up, “You’ve done enough already, you don’t need to kill them!”. “Nobody has the intention to kill them.”, the captain responded clinically, “They’ll die anyway!”. The entire crew watched us as the water slowly carried us away. One of them watched us particularly intently. He was aiming at us, or rather, he aimed at our boat. “Don’t!”, Hvitserk roared loudly and struggled to free himself as the men pulled the trigger, two times. “You have grown soft, son!”, the captain said, despising his son.

Meanwhile, Ivar and I were startled when the bullets hit our boat and left two holes behind. “Oh no! This can't be happening.”, I exclaimed as I noticed water flowing into the boat, slowly but surely. We both looked briefly at the ship, at the crew, knowing that they want to see us dead. As we did so, I caught a glimpse of Hvitserk, who could do nothing more for us than watch us in frustration. But I knew he had done all he could, and I was grateful to him for that, for everything. “Ivar, what do we do now? We have nothing to seal the holes with.”, I turned my attention back to Ivar while I tried to cover the leaks with my hands. “We have to try as best we can to keep the water out. Otherwise, we have to swim.”, he looked at me with concern, “Let's hope to hit land quickly.”. I just nodded.

There we were drifting. In the middle of the sea, on a small boat that was already leaking, with nothing but ourselves. I covered the holes as best I could with my hands, while Ivar, when he wasn't trying to paddle with his hands to make us go faster (to wherever), was scooping out the water that had entered the boat. Since my hands could not close the holes completely, as water is known to get through the smallest cracks, more water gradually accumulated in the boat. Ivar was good at scooping the water out, but even so, some water remained in the boat. With every hour we spent on the water and on the boat, we became more exhausted and thus less attentive. More water got in and remained in the boat and the more water accumulated the heavier the boat became and the heavier it became the faster it threatened to sink. At some point we had no choice but to abandon the boat and swim. At least we couldn't get any wetter than we already were, and the water temperature wasn't too cold. At least we wouldn't freeze to death that quickly. The only thing that worried me was the fact that we were already exhausted and there was still no land in sight far and wide.

“I’m sure we’ll hit land very soon! Don't worry!”, noticing me worrying Ivar encouraged me, “Together we'll make it!”. When I looked at him and saw him smiling at me, I couldn’t help but smile back. I hope you’re right.

A few hours passed and I was getting slower. “Ivar, I can’t go any longer!”, I whispered, just dragging myself forward. “You can! We have never given up, not then and not now!”, he briefly took my hand and squeezed it. To do that he had to turn around and by doing so he became aware of a fishing boat somewhat behind us. “Thank goodness!”, he exclaimed while sighing with relief. As soon as I turned around, I did the same. Although we did not know which kingdom the fishermen belonged to, whether they were friendly or hostile and whether they would help us at all, we did not hesitate for a second and swam towards the boat.

Fortunately, they allowed us to come on board and with that, they saved our lives for the time being. They made a very friendly and helpful impression and even gave us two blankets to dry off and warm up with. They were curious, nevertheless. Ivar and I raised many questions, such as who we are, where do we come from and above all, what are we doing in the middle of the sea, all alone and without a ship. So many questions we didn't know how to answer. We honestly told them our first names and our city of birth but regarding the rest we lied. Still, nobody should know anything about our origin, my existence as a pirate's daughter and Ivar's royal background. Since they could connect our surnames to our origin, we made one up and because telling them that we had previously lived on a pirate ship and been part of a pirate crew was out of the question, we had to come up with an excuse here too. The only problem was that we couldn't think of an excuse. “Um, well…”, I kept humming and hawing, before Ivar spoke up: “We ran away together, got ourselves a boat, but unfortunately it sank.”. In the end he wasn’t entirely lying, and I wished the first part was completely true too. Back then I would have loved to run away with him, although we didn’t even need to. Everyone who knew us had actually wished that we would become lovers, which we almost did, if only I hadn't found out about him being a prince.

“I’m sorry about that.”, the fisherman said sincerely, “May I ask how you found each other, despite the great distance between your birthplaces, and why you were not allowed to be together?”. Even more questions, great. “I used to be a merchant, so I came to her town. That's how we got to know each other.”, Ivar answered convincingly, “and because of my profession, her parents considered me unworthy of her.”. While he was talking, I was looking at him and wishing every single word of him was true. Shortly before he finished talking, he turned his attention to me, and our eyes met. The way we looked at each other completely convinced the fisherman. He immediately saw the love we felt for each other in our eyes. “If I may express my opinion, I think you did the right thing. You belong together!”, he smiled at us before he went back to work.

We looked up from the fisherman and then looked at each other again. I felt he was about to say something to me and about to come closer, but I quickly broke our eye contact. “Well…”, I cleared my throat and kept the blanket wrapped tightly around my shoulders, while staring into space. “We made it.”, I changed the topic. “Yeah, we did.”, he was glad but still he sighed, still looking at me.

A few hours of almost complete silence later the fishermen were done with their work and soon after, they entered their harbor. The evening sun was turning the sky orange and soon it would set and welcome the night. Out of helpfulness and gratitude, we helped them to carry their fishing yields off the boat and into some sort of guesthouse. As we were unknown to the inhabitants and we and our clothes were no longer in the best condition, we were looked at and observed from all sides. Some started whispering and making assumptions about us but that was to be expected.

We put the fish yields in the storage room of the guest house’s kitchen. It smelled anything but fresh in there, but on board of a pirate ship, among men who didn't take hygiene too seriously anyway, one got used to such smells. Nevertheless, I was glad to be able to leave the room without further ado. The rest, the gutting of the fish, was done by the kitchen staff, not really neatly, judging by the fish remains in the room.

Ivar and I were about to leave the guesthouse like everyone else when one of the fishermen called us back. “I suppose you’re in need of a room for the night.”, he was standing at the bar counter, behind which stood a woman whose attention was also on us. “We are, but we don't have any money with us.”, Ivar answered. “Don't worry, I'll pay. After all, you helped us with the work, you should be paid for it.”, he pulled money out of his jacket pocket and put it on the counter, “It should be enough for one night.”. The lady was satisfied with the amount of money and waved us over: “Come, I'll take you to your room.”. She had a very deep voice. “Thank you so much!”, both, Ivar and I thanked the fisherman.

As we were following her along the barely lit corridor, I noticed she was relatively strongly built. She probably ran this place and took care of everything that came up herself. I could imagine how exhausting the job was, especially towards the night, when the majority of the guests were drunk and in mood for a fight. Dealing with this required strength, assertiveness, and stamina.

“Here we are.”, she unlocked the door for us and let us into the room. The room was not very big, and the window was half boarded up. Judging by the noise and the draft, there was a broken windowpane underneath. The room didn't have much more to offer than a rotten wooden bed, but that was quite enough. We were alive, had a roof over our heads and a bed, much more than we had hoped for. “Goodnight.”, the woman said before closing the door behind her and leaving us alone. “Y/N?”, Ivar turned towards me. Just like the corridor the room was barely lit, so when I looked in his direction, I could barely make him out. Only when he came closer to me, closer to the light source, I could see him clearly. He looked down at my hands and took them in his. “Do you mind telling me why you're keeping me at a distance again?”, he asked, raising his eyes to mine.

Thank you so so much for reading and again, Happy New Year everyone!🤗💚🎉

Tagged: @youbloodymadgenius @heavenly1927 @curvynerdfan @xvxcarolinexvx

[chaseatinydream]

pirate king (28) || atz

“So… can I just say this sounds like a terrible plan?” Wooyoung asks as he glances at his captain, suiting up in his mission clothes once more. Hongjoong throws him a dirty look.

“Well, I’d like to see you come up with a better plan.” Captain snaps, but there’s no hostility in his tone. Instead, he sounds almost as nervous as you and Wooyoung are, turning to Seonghwa urgently. “Do you really want to do this, Seonghwa?”

The cook is dressed in mission attire as well, looking more out of place than you do in a black shirt and pants, a matching scarf hanging around his neck. When his captain addresses him, he nods, his fingers drumming furiously at his thighs, deep in thought.

He’s finally going to confront his parents’ murderer.

As the ones who know the town better than anyone else on board (except Seonghwa), you and Wooyoung will be accompanying Seonghwa on this little mission, assisting him by leading him to Lucio Bartholomew. The plan once you reach town is simple, trace the same way you took the last time and get to Lucio’s room, somehow dodging every guard along the way.

But nerves edge at you.

“What if they increase the guard because of us the last time?” You ask a little nervously, turning to Yeosang. The navigator shrugs as he helps you secure the grappling rope around your waist.

“Fight them off and run like hell. We’ve got a surplus of smoke bombs and interesting surprises this time, so Wooyoung will use them if need be.”

You turn to the head gunner in surprise. It’s the first time you’ve seen him so heavily armed, pistols and muskets dangling from his body. There’s even a double barreled shotgun hanging from his back, the menacing weapon looks like it could do some pretty serious damage.

From his shoulder dangles a bag full of the several ‘fun’ surprises that Yeosang had been working on, packed to the brim.

“I hope it won’t come to that.” You mumble under your breath, but Wooyoung simply chuckles, waving it off with a grin that you’ve missed so much.

“Aww, where’s the fun in that?” He laughs and you give him a flat look, completely unamused.

“Not getting shot in the foot would be a good start.”

There’s a knock on the door of the cabin, and it opens a crack to let Mingi’s head pop in to look at the five of you inside. “The moon’s hidden behind the clouds.” He tells you, face grim.

You exchange glances with each other and begin to rise to your feet. Time for you to go, you suppose.

All of you step outside onto the main deck, your soft soled boots barely making any noise against the wooden floorboards. Another invention you had to credit to Yeosang, who had stayed up all night trying to find ways to ensure the three of you wouldn’t be caught up in another terrible situation.

There’s a wooden rowing boat hanging over the port side of the ship, ready to be lowered into the water. The sea beneath you is calm, like a floor of glass, tiny ripples disrupting its otherwise smooth surface. You can see the town less than a mile away, the island of Nassau emitting a soft glow into the night.

“Well then, let’s be off.” Wooyoung stretches as he gets ready to board the boat. You get in after him, the little rowing boat rocking dangerously under your feet and you nearly fall right over the side. Wooyoung barely manages to catch you by the arm, pulling you back into the boat. “Wouldn’t want you to be taking a swim so soon.”

You want to smack the grin off his face.

Seonghwa steps into the boat with a lot more grace than you had, sitting down in front of you. Mingi and Hongjoong stand at the bulwarks, eyes reflecting the light of the torches like mirrors.

“Good luck.” Hongjoong says, and then Jongho and Yunho both grab a rope each, helping to lower the boat into the water. Nausea wells up in you and groan, this is a terrible start to the mission. Seonghwa and Wooyoung both pick up their oars, and once the boat is floating on the surface of the sea, they begin to paddle for shore.

The journey is more or less silent, aside from the splashing of water from the oars. The night is still, and after half an hour or so of hard paddling, the boat runs aground onto dry sand.

The three of you leap out of the boat, quickly hiding it in a thick clump of ferns in case anyone decides to wander along. Wooyoung claps you on the shoulder cheerily as the three of you make your way through the small grove of trees you had passed through the last time, Wooyoung this time carefully making sure to glance around at his surroundings so as to avoid another head/branch breaking incident.

“Brings back memories, doesn’t it?” He asks you with a smile and you snort, batting his hand away.

“Yeah… As if I could forget how you stupidly walked into a branch.”

Wooyoung sniffs delicately, assuming the pompous air of a rich, noble lady. “I have done no such thing.” You fight to keep the snort from escaping you.

Seonghwa trails behind the two of you in silence and both of you exchange subtle looks. Wooyoung raises an eyebrow at you.

Should we talk to him?

You frown at him, jerking your head slightly at the man behind you.

Shouldn’t you know? You’ve been his friend for longer.

Wooyoung puffs out his cheeks.

Yeah, but I’m not exactly the most sensitive person, you know?

“Seonghwa-hyung?” You turn around to look at the cook, who’s momentarily jerked out of his little reverie as he looks at you. There’s a concerned look on your face. “Are you alright?”

The taller man manages to give you a weak smile even as he shakes his head truthfully. “I really just want to meet this man and ask him why he chose to do this to my parents… Honestly, I wish I were angry with him… but all I feel right now is confusion, and I don’t know why.”

You and Wooyoung glance at each other.

“You must be just like Yeosangie.” Wooyoung shakes his head as if in disappointment, but there’s a wistful smile on his face. “Both of you are too pure for this world, seriously.”

“I...” Seonghwa interjects softly and the two of you listen intently. “I lived my whole life with the dream of returning to Nassau and taking revenge on the man who took my family from me. I thought it’d bring me the peace I needed so much. But now that it’s right in front of my eyes, I can’t help but feel like I need to know why my parents were killed, more than taking revenge.”

He smiles weakly at the two of you.

“Sorry. I’m not being very eloquent, am I?”

“No problem, that’s Yeosang and Hongjoong-hyung’s job.”The gunner waves his apology away as the three of you approach the treeline. You step forward to scope out the place, pulling the scarf over your nose as you check for any guards or the like. “I think I can understand. We’ll respect your decisions, Seonghwa-hyung.”

You turn back to them. “All clear. But we should stay wary, they might still on high alert. It’s only been a week, after all.”

Quietly, the three of you slip out of the shadows and into the town.

This time, the tension in the air is so high no one dares make a sound. Even though the last time you and Wooyoung were simply joking around to ease your nerves, it’s different now. This may be Seonghwa’s last shot at getting to this Lucio Bartholomew.

You cross your fingers and pray that the gods will find favour with you tonight. Then you feel something warm drip from your nose and you frown, riffling about in your bag for a cloth.

Ever since you’d saved Yeosang from certain death, you had started to get nosebleeds a little more frequently, something that confused both you and San. Your master had told you that he’d never seen such a strange after effect of a healing like this, but then again he had never seen a healing of such a high scale before. Worried, he’d started to track how often you got nosebleeds, but you were sure it was just exhaustion from the healing you had done.

After a while, the bleeding stops, and you shove the cloth back into your bag.

You take the same path as you did a week before, walking past the row of shop houses and ducking into the alleyway behind the bookshop, into the cover of the shadows. This time, Wooyoung listens for guards while you undo the grappling rope around your waist, waiting for your partner’s signal. When he does nod at you, you twirl the hook above your head and toss it into the window as quietly as possible.

The iron hook flies into the window and you tug on it to make sure it’s secure. Wooyoung brushes past you, pulling his scarf over his mouth to hide his face and a black hood to hide his hair. Gripping the rope tight, he scales it quickly, climbing into the room.

There are two jerks on the rope.

Safe.

You climb up the rope after him, proud that you’re able to do this a lot faster than before. When you’re in the room, you help Seonghwa up after, and he joins the three of you in Ludovico Robertt’s room for the first time.

Except Ludovico Robertt is not in his bed.

You frown, glancing around a little apprehensively. “Where’s our dear Ludo?”

“Officials tend to work overtime a lot, don’t worry.” Wooyoung tells you as he secures the rope around his waist. This time, all of you take precaution, drawing loaded muskets from your belts just in case of something unexpected happening. Your other hand rests nervously on the hilt of your cutlass.

Wooyoung opens the door and studies the corridor outside.

The he turns back to you and shakes his head.

No one.

Something rolls about in the pit of your stomach, like a restless sea.

“Wooyoung, I think we should-” You begin to say, but he’s already slipped out of the door, Seonghwa following close behind. You don’t have any choice but to follow the two of them, nervously looking around for any signs of danger.

There are none.

And that scares you more than anything else.

The courtyard is void of guards, the torches flickering in the brackets along the walls show no one is patrolling the corridor. You can feel unease bubbling deep in you.

“Let’s go.” Wooyoung gestures to you and Seonghwa, the three of you make your way across the corridor to Lucio Bartholomew’s room. A cicada chirps and you nearly jump out of your skin, heart racing a million knots an hour as you fight to keep your breathing steady. The gunner fiddles with the latch, opening the door to reveal a dark room behind it, which you slip inside.

Wooyoung closes the door carefully after you as you take the time to adjust to the gloom of the room. When you can finally see more clearly once more, you glance around to scope the room out.

The room is exactly as the last time you had been here. Piles of official work documents are stacked upon the desk, books still well kept on the shelves. Nothing would have suggested that just a week ago, the two of you had been here to cause such a ruckus. But unease weighs on your mind. It’s too quiet, too calm, too still. The lack of guards, the empty room of Ludovico Robertt and the seemingly too easy entrance all seem to be pointing you towards something. By the time you realise it, you’re too late. The door opens behind you and the three of you whirl around in horror to a see the outline of a man standing there. His face is hidden in shadow, but you can see the smile on his face. Seonghwa gasps beside you, eyes going wide. His face drains of colour as he stares down the man opposite him, hands trembling with fear or anger, you don’t know. “I’ve been waiting for you, Park Seonghwa.”

The Treasure’s resident cook looks as if there is a musket pointed straight at him, even though the man’s hands are empty. Wooyoung jerks his gun at who you’re presuming to be Lucio Bartholomew.

“Hands in the air.”

The man complies without resistance, raising his hands. His lack of fear, his complete absence of surprise, all of it is disconcerting. Part of you wishes he would fight back, would call for the guards like he did before, but he does none of those things. Instead, he merely looks at you gently with a smile worn and weathered with time, crow’s feet crinkling at the corner of his eyes.

Seonghwa is staring at the man intently, eyes narrowed in deep thought. Then his mouth falls open, his eyes widening in shock. You frown as you study his face in concern, has he remembered how this man killed his parents? But the words that leave his mouth are not something that you were expecting in the least.

“...Uncle Barty?”

You almost choke on your own tongue in shock. Uncle Barty? Uncle? And from the way Seonghwa says his name, with a tinge of familiarity, the two must have been pretty close at least, or had known each other before.

You’re almost terrified by how calm he is, utterly unruffled by Wooyoung’s gun pointed at his head. Is he planning something? Why are there no guards? Why does Seonghwa know him? Even worse, the man simply smiles at Seonghwa’s stupefied expression.

“Hwaseong.” He says, and from the way Seonghwa goes rigid, the word must mean something from his past. You swallow uncomfortably, pointing your own gun at him, trying to hide the way your eyes are darting about nervously for some sort of danger.

“Where are the guards?” You snap, trying to sound as intimidating as possible, but Ludovico Bartholomew simply shakes his head at you with a kind smile that honestly scares you more than Leon Bastiville’s sneer.

“There are no guards.”

You’re struck dumb for a moment. The Treasure had been caught at the harbour the last week and two of their crew had been found at the officials’ building, but no one had bothered to post additional watch there? From the look on Wooyoung’s face, he doesn’t believe a word of it but chooses to remain silent. It seemed to good to be true. And his next words are even more disconcerting.

“I told them to leave. I was expecting you.”

Unease stirs in you. He was expecting you?

“You… You were one of the restaurant’s patrons. One of mother and father’s friends.” Seonghwa manages to choke out, you and Wooyoung exchange concerned looks at this bit of new information. “You were the one who bought Ha Rin cranberry cream buns from the bakery every time you visited the eatery.”

Bartholomew doesn’t try to explain himself, doesn’t beg for forgiveness, doesn’t even try to deny it. Instead, he simply nods.

“I was.”

You’re horrified. This man, the one who brought a young nine year old girl buns and was friends with Seonghwa’s parents actually had the heart to send them to the gallows in cold blood?

“I remember seeing you at the eatery every morning, talking with mother and father.” The words tumble from Seonghwa’s lips as he continues to stare at the man in shock. “And you… and you helped Hyunjung with his studies, you encouraged him to become a good student.”

The man nods once more. “So I was.”

“And you killed them.” Seonghwa’s voice is nothing more than a hushed whisper now, soft grey eyes unblinking as he stares at the man who ruined his entire life in a single day. “You sent them to their deaths.”

Ludovico Bartholomew nods one last time, this time his head drops a little, as if he feels just a tiny bit of guilt.

“I did.”

The official’s reply leaves you stunned. But Seonghwa looks like he’s seen a ghost of his past, which you suppose in some way he has, the pallor of his face draining of all colour.

“I should kill you right now.” He breathes, raising his own gun to Bartholomew’s forehead. His body is trembling from the emotions rushing through him, but his hand is still on the firearm. “My family deserve their revenge.”

Ludovico smiles again, this time a little sadder, a little more wistful. Then he steps forward, right up to Seonghwa, and presses his forehead against the mouth of the barrel. “You should.”

But he can’t.

Seonghwa’s hands start to tremble violently, as if bearing the weight of his parents’ and siblings’ deaths on his shoulders. It’s too much for him to handle, overwhelming him all at once. He can’t kill the man before him, the one thing that he set out to do, the one thing he needs for closure. Tears stream down his cheeks as he grits his teeth, fingers hovering above the trigger.

You can see the struggle in his eyes.

“I killed your family, you know.” Ludovico whispers softly, as if trying to edge him on. Seonghwa gasps as the man admits it outright, not the least bit of fear or doubt in his voice. Heaving gasps leave his throat as he fights to pull the trigger.

“Hyung? Hyung, are you alright?” Wooyoung asks, eyes narrowed in concern. He won’t interfere, knowing that Seonghwa needs to do this for himself, but he is starting to get worried over his hesitation. Seonghwa shakes his head desperately, barely keeping the gun pointed at Ludovico’s head.

“Why?”

The man in question raises an eyebrow, as if he didn’t hear the question properly. “Excuse me?”

“Why…” Seonghwa swallows his emotion, fighting to speak coherently. “Why did you kill my family?”

“You don’t want to know, Hwaseong.” The man sighs, turning around without paying any heed to the three guns pointed at him. Your heart leaps into your throat as he moves to his desk, opening a thick book of records. Seonghwa closes his eyes for a moment, trying to compose himself.

“I want the truth. I thought you… I thought we could trust you… that we were friends.”

“Well…” Ludovico exhales, still hunched over the book. “That’s what I thought too, when I heard the news of the Treasure being back in town. Hwaseong, do you know why your parents were hung?”

Seonghwa flinches visibly at the last word, but nods slowly. “During the announcement… the man in charge of the hanging falsely accused my parents of consorting with pirates.”

“According to the reports of Sir Lucio Bartholomew, the head of the piracy investigation, I find the Park family guilty of consorting with pirates and ****…”

Yes, he remembers. He remembers that fateful day, every word the official had said until those too, had faded into white noise. His innocent parents and siblings who had been hanged at the gallows for no reason at all, dangling at the end of the noose, every last gasp of air they had taken as they slipped further and further from this earth-

“You falsely accused them of consorting with pirates.” Seonghwa’s body is shaking, whether from rage or emotion, you don’t know, but you have a sinking feeling in your chest that just won’t go away. Something is going to happen. “You lied and my entire family was sent to the gallows.”

Lucio Bartholomew is silent as he stares at Seonghwa, then he speaks.

There is nothing but surety in his voice, and with three simple words that upend Seonghwa’s world in the space of a single breath, does the world come crashing down around you.

“I didn’t lie.”

[bestworstcase]

farran rereads lost lagoon: chapters 9-10

it’s been a hot minute! previous installments here, in case you’d like to refresh your memory first.

- this chapter opens with rapunzel observing that cassandra is angry and concluding, correctly, that it’s because rapunzel followed her. i think this is a very interesting choice for howland to make. tts rapunzel is not like this. she often, particularly in s1, fails to notice when cass is frustrated with her and is startled when that frustration erupts into anger after repeated pushing. she is also generally quite bad at linking cause and effect together like this; she might recognize that cass is angry, but miss why. she stomps all over cassandra’s boundaries in large part because she doesn’t know any better. she can’t see how her behavior is hurting cass. but lagoon rapunzel does know better. she’s far more emotionally intuitive, and she can see right away that sticking her nose into cassandra’s business upsets cass, yet she will continue to do it. part of me wonders if this change is to facilitate the character growth lagoon rapunzel gets (which tts rapunzel does not)? it’s much easier, after all, to fix poor behavior if you’re able to see how it’s hurting people you care about.

- rapunzel here also observes that cassandra’s “eyes were wide and vulnerable,” indicating how afraid cass was of the water situation. cass denies that she was afraid when rapunzel asks her. this has a lot of similarities to how cass acts in fanon, cassunzel fanon in particular—outright denying her feelings, even when rapunzel accurately identifies them. and i know i’m beating a dead horse here, but tts cass is not like this. tts cass readily expresses her feelings to rapunzel—except when she thinks rapunzel isn’t willing to listen to her. in COTB, her reticence with rapunzel comes on the heels of rapunzel doing something cassandra pleaded with her not to do. in RATGT, rapunzel outright tells her to ‘be okay with’ the way rapunzel treats her, and in RDO cass bottles up her feelings and refuses to talk until rapunzel forces her to. actively hiding her feelings is a behavior she develops after becoming friends with rapunzel, because rapunzel continually dismisses or ignores her feelings. this is probably not the last time i am going to harp on this over the course of this little reread. it’s a huge pet peeve of mine.

- re: romance novel: “I hadn’t seen Eugene since the night before. After Cassandra left my room, I sent Pascal to follow her. I instructed him to come get me if she went anywhere.” ksdkjf

- cassandra, of course, wants the lagoon to be their—or rather, ideally, her—little secret, because she’s decided this is the thing that will prove she’s ready for the guard. her approach to getting rapunzel on board with this secret-keeping is to imply that frederic and arianna might compromise corona’s national security if they are informed. i think this is very funny.

- (again, contrast this to what happens in tts: when cass begs rapunzel to keep their midnight excursion a secret, she explains her reasoning in detail, because tts cass knows how to communicate like an adult.)

- “It’s so…blue” jksdfl cass has a way with words huh

- i do not think ms howland knows what a lagoon is, because what she is describing is absolutely not a lagoon. it appears to be a cenote. i suppose ‘rapunzel and the lost cenote’ doesn’t quite have the same ring to it, though, does it?

- cassandra reveals that she doesn’t know how to swim. i will get into this in a moment.

- corona has 315 miles of coastline, according to ms. howland. for purposes of comparison, rhode island has around 380 miles of coastline. now! in addition to those three hundred odd miles of coastline, corona has 212 lakes, 121 ponds, 67 rivers, of which 17 are significant in size and let out into the sea. with some cursory research i haven’t been able to get a precise count of the number of freshwater bodies of water there are in rhode island, but wikipedia tells me that about 90% of the inland freshwater in the state is contained in 237 lakes and ponds, which is a bit less than corona’s 333 total lakes and ponds, so… assuming the other 10% of rhode island’s inland freshwater is contained in a few dozen smaller lakes and ponds, those numbers are quite close as well. and according to wikipedia, rhode island has 59 rivers, of which 17 are ‘considered major rivers either geographically or historically.’ 

there is not really a point to this digression except that i think it is interesting. rhode island is 1,214 square miles in size and based on the general closeness of these numbers i have decided to tentatively conclude that corona is meant to be roughly similar in size. let’s call it a nice even 1,250 square miles for the sake of ease and to account for the greater number of lakes and ponds. 

this is quite a bit larger than the kingdom appears to be in tts—unless the kingdom is very lopsided and island city is situated within a couple dozen miles of the nearest border—but it’s also quite small for a country. (europe has a few very small microstates and city-states, but excluding those, the smallest country in europe is almost twice the size of rhode island). 

for my own writing, i decided that corona was quite a bit larger than this—bitter snow corona is in the neighborhood of 13,125 square miles, of which about ⅓ was formerly saporia and another ¼ is the disputed territory/province of malinar, meaning saporia is/was about 4,375 square miles, malinar is about 3,288 square miles, and pre-conquest corona would have been about 5,462 square miles—but, if you’re writing fanfiction and looking for an approximate ‘canon’ size for corona, 1,250 sq miles is not a bad guess. just remember that that big old wall rapunzel’s so eager to get to the other side of has to be within about twenty miles of the island capital in order for horses to be able to comfortably get there and back in less than a day! so either the island has to be very near the nearest border, or the wall isn’t actually corona’s border but rather a defensive wall around the capital or something like that. 

- now back to cassandra, and the matter of her inability to swim. i think, given that they live on an island and the generally high standards to which he holds his daughter, it beggars belief a little that the captain did not force the issue of her learning how. it’s a safety matter. if you live near water you need to be able to swim.  but, fine, she has a phobia, whatever. it’s for the romance novel™

- but i hate this. i hate it. ms. howland expects me to believe that:

1 - cassandra hasn’t been in swimming lessons since she could walk

2 - cassandra’s phobia was so severe that the captain never forced the issue of her learning to swim, while living on an island

3 - rapunzel magically knows how to swim, because the three or four minutes she spent almost drowning in a slowly flooding cave and then being spat out into a river and dragged to the bank by eugene was sufficient for her to become a great swimmer.

4 - all it takes for cassandra to overcome her debilitating phobia of water is for rapunzel to spend maybe ten or fifteen minutes gently coaxing her into the water and teaching her how to tread water

5 - swimming in the lagoon with rapunzel then becomes one of cassandra’s most treasured pastimes, and

6 - merely a few months after this, cassandra is a strong enough swimmer to (in fitzherbert pi) DIVE INTO THE FUCKING OCEAN FULLY DRESSED WITH HER BOOTS ON in order to rescue shorty before he drowns.

and NO!!!!!! NO! THAT’S NOT HOW SWIMMING WORKS THAT’S NOT HOW ANYTHING WORKS!!

now i get it. i get it. this is a romance novel and the symbolism of rapunzel liberating cassandra from her fears and teaching her a valuable new skill that they bond over and becomes their shared special secret thing to do together is obviously powerful and a staple trope for the genre. but it makes so little sense for this to be a skill that rapunzel has but cassandra does not. it feels almost infantalizing of cassandra and aggrandizing of rapunzel. like… rapunzel is an exceptionally competent young woman, yes. but no she can’t fucking swim you can’t learn to swim from that one time you almost drowned in a FUCKING cave. fuck!

- i’m still on the first page of chapter 10 and i am steamed.

- “It’s amazing how fast you can pick something up when your life depends on it.” FUCK you, ms. howland. you don’t learn how to turn sommersalts or swim laps by almost drowning. at most you might teach yourself how to doggy paddle.

- this scene would have worked just as goddamn well on the romance novel front if cass were the one who knew how to swim and rapunzel desperately wanted to learn and made big sad puppy eyes until cass caved and agreed to teach her. like! ffs you could even squeeze in the phobia stuff - rapunzel freaks out when she gets to a certain depth because it throws her back to being in that cave and cass, who has plenty of experience dealing with her own panic attacks, is able to gently calm her down.

- but that would require ms. howland to allow rapunzel to be bad at something. grumble.

- i don’t think rapunzel is qualified to give cass exposure therapy.

- this is nitpicky but i’m annoyed. this is not how you clean plate armor. “First you hang your suit of armor up to make sure every piece is properly aligned and that there’s no rust” WHAT? it’s not… like, it’s not like a onesie. plate armor is a bunch of individual components tied or buckled to an arming doublet or, in some cases, to other pieces of plate. you can’t ‘hang up’ a suit of plate armor the way you’d hang up, like, a jacket. you can put the pieces together on an arming doublet that you’ve hung up on a dummy, but… why would you do that in order to clean it.

“Then you attach the foot coverings” gjksdfjk just… the mental image of cassandra painstakingly putting a suit of armor together on a fucking mannequin and buckling the sabatons to the greaves or what the fuck ever she means by this and trying to clean the set that way is destroying me

“Then you need to polish the chest plate, with a soft cloth, work in circles, going outward” okay yes but you’d do the cuirrass separate from the rest of the set and you’d do the inside too and cass ought to know the proper name for all of these pieces please it’s not hard

“The arms can be tricky because the joints” WHAT. for arms you’ve got, like, a pauldron (or spaulder and rondel), rerebrace, couter, vambrace, gauntlets. these are separate pieces. you clean them one at a time, inside and outside. does howland think you just… don’t need to clean the inside of a set of plate armor? does she think the inside isn’t just as if not more susceptible to rust as the outside? does… does she realize that you can take plate armor apart i am CONFOUNDED

WHAT is a “mouth cover” in this context. is she refering to a visor. hinged pieces like on an armet? does she mean a bevor? the bevor isn’t even part of the helmet aljksdflkjsfdj

cassandra refers to cuisses and greaves as “thigh plates” and “shin [plates]” respectively i’m die. she also completely skips the poleyns. i do not think this cass has ever cleaned a suit of plate armor in her entire life.

i am losing. my. mind.

- in the immediate aftermath of cass learning how to tread water i think rapunzel asks her more personal questions than she does in the entirety of tts itself. like, it’s almost jarring how much more interested both rapunzel and eugene are in cassandra as a person in this book than they seem to be in tts. compare this conversation to the way cass opens up to rapunzel in beginnings - here, it’s prompted by rapunzel asking questions, expressing interest in cassandra’s feelings and encouraging her by telling her she’s brave. in beginnings, rapunzel builds a pillow fort in cass’s room because she wants to force a bonding moment and cass, after initially trying to kick her out, relents and volunteers some personal information as a kind of apology for being hostile. the vibes are completely different, so different that it feels like i’m not even reading about the same characters.

- like can you imagine tts rapunzel saying something like “it’s your story, that makes it important” to cass? lmao

- cass reveals that she’s afraid of water because she got dragged out by the undertow at the beach when she was small, and her dad saved her and then got so mad at her that she remembers being as afraid of him as she was of the water. this is not unrealistic per se, but… if cassandra was as scared of her dad that day as she was of drowning, then… shouldn’t that have more of an impact on her relationship with him? like…he screams at her after she almost drowns and she walks away with this debilitating phobia of the water but zero lingering fear of him?

- this chapter has given me a headache

- re: romance novel: “Rapunzel gripped my hand. This time I didn’t flinch.” snrk. 

[jayde-jots]

Cinder Scribbles - TUGS Giant!AU (Part 2)

Zorran was apparently the next tug to be runed over with the sickness. Before Hercules broke out of his own former boat body Zorran had been showing the same symptoms, he threw up a black tar like substance and had been preforming worse and worse every day. A few days before Hercules’s transformation he stopped moving entirely, he couldn’t start up his engine again and a few hours after that happened he couldn’t open his doors on his body or animate his ropes anymore.

Captain Zero sent him to Lucky’s yard with Zebedee as his tow and he told the tug he was in charge while he was gone. Zebedee was surprised but Zorran reiterated that he’d just be making sure everyone does their work, the fellow Z-stack nodded and sailed back to the dock when Lucky got Zorran up into dry dock, or at least, tried to.

 Zorran immediately screamed in pain when the racks lifted up from under him, he normally actually liked being out of the water but for some reason his hull decided to assault him with pain.

Lucky immediately called the racks off and decided to at least see how Zorran’s insides were doing, but apparently that wasn’t a good idea ether. The second Lucky held onto Zorran’s side to jump across the tug shrieked in pain so the mechanic recoiled when he noticed that when he held onto Zorran his body squished under his grip.

 Instead of grabbing Zorran he just ran his hand along his body and he noticed just how flimsy it felt, like worn weak leather, a far cry from Hercules.

Lucky hooked himself onto a harness and lifted himself across a pully system on the roof of the warehouse, normally this was used for building a tug or a tug that couldn’t be boarded by ladder or dock, but in this case, it was used so Lucky could have a look around without actually walking on Zorran.

 Lucky tried to open Zorran’s door to his interior but they were like Hercules’s after the mechanic tried to open the tugs door again from walking around in his interior the day prior, they were stuck shut and seemed to cause a lot of discomfort when he tried to pull them open.

So Lucky had a problem. He had no way to actually check Zorran over without actually causing him pain.

 The mechanic got off the harness and address the tug. “Okay, I’ve unfortunately got all bad news Zorran. What do you want to hear first? Worst news or bad news?” “Hit me hard here Lucky, what’s the worst of it?” the mechanic sighed. “I’ve had this nearly exact same situation with Hercules, his body was rubbery and awkward to stand on and he showed discomfort when I did. You have a similar thing except I believe worse. Your body feels really flimsy like there’s not much behind it to support it, so my worst immediate fear is if you get punctured by something you could quite possibly sink. That’s my worst news, so I might have to keep you here for a while because I’m not comfortable in letting you go out and risk it.” Zorran groaned clearly not liking this. “The lesser news is that I don’t even have a way to properly check you, your doors won’t open and I’m not about to go hacking into you to go check.” “So I’m up stacks creek without a paddle?” “More like you’ve sank but haven’t sunk.” “Seeping stacks.”

 Lucky then called Zero to have ether of his switchers come get Zorran and bring him back to dock for the time being. When Zug arrived Lucky warned him to make sure Zorran doesn’t run into anything, the little tug nodded and the two Z’s set off back to their dock.

 After Hercules transformed in the middle of the docks and had calmed down he took to just sitting at the Star dock until further notice, but he was so big now that even sitting down in the water he was big enough to look over to the Zero dock and it made Zorran really uneasy because he now knew what was in store for himself. Which was a lot sooner than he originally thought.

  About a few hours after Hercules changed it was around sun set when Zorran started to tiredly nod off and when his head started to droop into his body he freaked out and immediately righted himself causing him to stretch his body and water started flooding into his hull from a massive tear. “Ah!” Zorran shrieked causing Hercules to look over at the rapidly sinking tug. He stood up and leaned over the wall that separated the two docks and placed his hand under the tugs hull, Zorran squeaked when he saw the massive human move towards him but was glad when he realised the former tug boat was just holding him from sinking.

Zorran looked up to the office window of his fleet and tried to see if his captain was there. “Hercules, can you tell if Captain Zero is in there?” Hercules rested the arm that had the hand he was using to hold Zorran up with on the wall that separated the docks, so he would have balance as he used his other hand to gently as he could lift the window to the office up. The smell of something alcoholic and diesel fumes immediately assaulted his nose, Hercules roughly gaged and turned away from the office.

 “Bleh!” Hercules gaged shaking his head not to dissimilar to an animal. “Woah, watch it!” Zorran shouted as he was still being held by the ocean tug. “Sorry, but that smell is way to strong for me.” “Then don’t smell, look, you know, with your eyes?” the tug said sarcastically. “I could drop you, you know.” Hercules said looking to Zorran with an unamused expression. He looked back into the office anyway and found who he believed to be Captain Zero passed out at his desk. “He’s out cold.” Hercules told. “Stacks. Um, could you get me to Lucky’s then?” “Are you asking me to carry you?” the giant asked looking puzzled at the Z-stack. “If you drop me now I’ll sink.” “I haven’t got a good enough hold on walking yet to carry you safely… I could just place you somewhere on the dock for the time being and go tell Captain Star.” “Wait! When I went to Lucky’s before he tried to get me on to drydock with the racks but they really hurt, if you put me on some hard surface I believe the same thing will happen only a lot more painful.” “Well I can’t just hold you until someone notices. …And I’m holding you the same way the racks do, how come this doesn’t hurt you?” “Your hand is a lot more soft than metal.”

 Zorran looked around to assess the position he was in. “What if you hold me the way we are now and just move me around to your dock? Then you can tell Captain Star.” “Alright, but this may feel a little shaky.” Hercules said then doing his best to pivot in the position he was in to get Zorran around the wall and into the Star dock.

As Zorran was jostled he could feel his hull begin to ache, maybe being spun around to the Star dock wasn’t such a good idea but he was resting with the decision now. It was then that he heard a familiar horn belonging to Zak come into the dock.

 “Wha? Pfft! W-What is Hercules doing to ya Zorran? Using you as a toy? Haha!” the other harbor tug asked beginning to laugh. “He is? Hercules why didn’t you tell me?” Zorran asked with a load of sarcasm laced in his tone. “I’d thought I could get away with it, but maybe Zak will make a better toy than you.” The other tug suddenly cut off from his laughter and smiled sheepishly up at the giant before backing away.

 Once Hercules finally got Zorran over to the Star dock and after Zak got over his fear he decided to follow and watch from afar. Zorran wasn’t feeling any better as he began to feel more sick like he would throw up again. “Ugh… I feel like I might spew Hercules.” Zorran warned as he was brought closer to the dock. “Thanks for the heads up.” Hercules reluctantly grit out through his teeth semi regretting helping the Z-stack now after the scene they’ve made.

Hercules gently tapped the office wall of the building to get Captain Star’s attention. When the man opened the window he was surprised to see what Hercules was doing and why he was holding Zorran. “What are you doing Hercules? Why are you holding Zorran like that?” the captain asked through the megaphone causing Hercules to back away and cringe. “Please don’t use that sir, it really hurts.” The captain did as asked and placed his megaphone back into the office before just peeking his head out. “Why are you carrying Zorran like that?” Star repeated.

 “I saw him begin to sink so I grabbed him. Captain Zero is out cold so I carefully brought him over here.” “Is there a hole in him or something?” “I can feel a tear under my bow.” Zorran answered.

Star expected to need to use his megaphone to talk to Zorran since normally the tugs couldn’t hear him otherwise, but it appears something was happening to the tugs hearings.

 “Hercules can you lift him to see what it is fully?” Star asked. “Okay… Sorry Zorran you told me this may hurt.” Hercules apologized then using both hands to attempt to lift the tug completely out of the water. “Wait-wait-wait!” Zorran shouted before he was lifted. “AH!” The no.1 Z-stack cried out as he was lifted up by under the hull.

Zorran could feel panic and pain writhe in his hull as he tried to wiggle and squirm his way out of danger, his mind running on complete auto-piolet and instincts. He did end up getting free but not in the way he wanted to.

 Arms and legs broke out of his body flailing, making Hercules stumble back from the sudden added weight he had above him and making him fall backwards into the water.

The former ocean tug was quick to push Zorran off him so he could lift his head out of the water but when he saw Zorran he was actually rather surprised by the sight. The now former harbor tug turned giant was an odd sight to see to Hercules from an outsiders perspective, but one thing that stuck out to Hercules was that Zorran looked rather thin compared to what he believed humans should look like under their clothing. His ribs were showing and he over all looked rather gangly.

 When Hercules realised that Zorran wasn’t sitting up from out of the water he lifted the poor tug out himself to which Zorran took a deep breath in as soon as his head was out. He heaved and coughed as Hercules lifted him up and held him close so he would have something to rest on. Once Zorran was breathing normally he looked up to Hercules weakly before his head dropped back down and he promptly passed out unconscious.

“Zorran? Zorran?!” Hercules asked moving the new giants head to look up at him when Captain Star spoke to him. “Calm down Hercules, I think he just fell asleep. It may be best to let him rest for now, can you hold onto him just in case until he wakes up?” Hercules looked back down to Zorran and positioned the former tugs head to rest on his chest, Star took that as a silent yes. In Hercules’s eyes, just because Zorran was a grade A jerk didn’t mean he deserved to perish, and the tug now looked so vulnerable and fragile. If it was one word Hercules would never describe Zorran as, it would be defenceless and weak. He honestly wasn’t despite what many others would lead to believe.

 Hercules rested his head back onto the dock and held Zorran strongly to his chest so he wouldn’t slip off and back into the water. The newly transformed tug was so frail and thin, like all it would take was a strong breeze to knock him over if he were to stand. Whenever Zorran did get to standing, Hercules assumed he would have to be the one to help him, the former ocean tug believed he was going to be in for quite the ride.

He then felt something brush his leg. When he looked it was Zak with Zorran’s hat on his front deck and a worried expression on his wheelhouse. Hercules nudged to the right to make room for the still current tug and he watched carefully as Zak pulled up alongside his side just barely tickling his ribs. He carefully moved Zorran’s hat to next to Hercules’s head and took one finale look at the now giant tug before backing out.

Hercules could tell Zak was maybe a little worried, or maybe the sight of Zorran creeped him out, either way, he believed there was going to be some concern going around the Zero dock for a while.

[sharperthewriter]

Chapter 12 of Possible-y Utah

Chapter 12 - The Agreement II

(2:18 pm)

A pink convertible pulled up into the driveway of Richard's house and two girls, both seniors, got out of the car.

The girl who was driving the car was Genna Majenta. She, whom had recently graduated from MHS, had long shoulder-length black hair, brown eyes and was slightly taller than Kim. She was dressed in a blue croptop shirt, a silver star necklace, Club Banana dark baggy denim overalls with the bib folded down and straps hooked and a belt to hold them up and white sneakers. She was co-captain of the Middleton Golden Dancers dance team in her senior and the girlfriend of Richard.

The other girl whom was the passenger of the car was Jeanna Montana, the girlfriend of Jack. Like Genna, she was approaching her senior year at Middleton High and was also on the Golden Dancers. They were also of the same height. But whereas Genna had brown eyes and black hair, Jeanna had blonde hair and blue eyes and had a tattoo of two starts on her midriff. She was wearing a pink tubetop, silver hoop earrings, black carpenter jeans, and pink sneakers.

"Ugh...do you wonder why Richard called us here, Gen?" Jeanna asked while popping her strawberry bubblegum.

"Dunno. Maybe both he and Jack could get lucky with us tonight!" Genna replied, texting away on her phone.

"You wanna take Jack upstairs or in the basement?" Jenna asked, popping a medium-sized bubble.

"Since I went upstairs with Jack last time, I'll take the basement for a little 'extra-session' with him!" Genna replied with a very vapid grin, licking her lips. "I am wearing my 'special' panties for him!"

She opened the door to the house and saw that, to her surprise, that Bonnie and Rebecca were sitting on the couch.

Jeanna reacted with disgust at the sight of a cheerleader in her boyfriend's house.

"What is this...?" she asked with a slight growl.

Richard gasped in horror at his girlfriend appearing. "It's not what it looks like, Jeanna! They were the ones who called us up to come here.

Jeanna stomped to the living room with her left hand clenched in a fist.

"I am going to give Miss Rockwaller a piece of my mind!" she exclaimed.

Bonnie saw the approaching, and very POed, Jeanna but she stood her ground. She jumped out of the couch right in front of her.

Rebecca exclaimed, "B! Please!"

"If you even dare come closer to me..." Bonnie insisted, her shoes digging deep in the carpet, "...I will make sure that my mom will give you a good paddling with her Swatter!"

Genna also intervened, "Jenna...I'd hate to say this, but Bonnie's right! You do NOT want to cross paths with her!"

Jeanna stopped herself in her tracks. She knew all about the reputation of Veronica Rockwaller and her infamous wooden paddle.

"You're lucky that your mom is the head disciplinarian of the entire school district, Rockwaller! I would've given you a black eye if I had the chance!" Jeanna sneered.

Richard tried to intervene.

"Ladies! Ladies! Let's chillax!" he nervously chuckled, "Let's not fight here! Let's be reasonable before someone calls the police on any of us!"

Jenna unclenched her fists but turned her anger to her football-playing boyfriend.

"Richard, I am going to have a very long talk with you after this..."

"You know, this may be just be a mistake...just like what you two losers did with 'The Incident'!"

Rebecca, however, was still confused.

"Okay, I'm totes mixed up."

"What is it now, R?" Bonnie asked.

"Why do you have beef with the Golden Dancers?" Rebecca questioned.

"It all started about six months ago. We were about to hit the showers after cheer practice one day." Bonnie began to explain "The Incident."

Jenna then smirked, "Oh yeah, now I remember! One of our Dancers turned off the hot waters to the showers!"

"I have never taken a shower that cold in my life...about as bad as the time Possible pulled that same trick on me last year at Wannaweep." Bonnie muttered. "Good thing we had our towels on."

"That was only Part 1 of our little 'fun' against you cheerleaders!" Genna giggled.

"Oh yes, the other part of their prank against us!" Bonnie continued, "Another one of your little Dancers poured Stoppable's Mad Dog banana cream foam down our cheer skirts!"

"We had a very good laugh after that!" Jenna grinned. "Celebrated at Mr. Swirley's that night."

"I, along with the rest of the squad, had to wash my uniform thoroughly to get rid of Stoppable's gunk!" Bonnie bitterly complained.

"He should have stored the foam in a more...secure...place!" Genna cackled.

Bonnie huffed before saying, "I wish if I had punched you in the face right then and there...but Possible, being the Miss Goody-Two-Shoes she is, banned the squad from ever engaging in violence or any criminal acts against you Dancers. And your little Dancer who poured the foam in our skirts got kicked off!"

Genna sighed, "Yet, a couple weeks after that, someone on your squad disobeyed Kim's orders! Stole our hairsprays for an upcoming dance competish! To my recollection, didn't Kim kick her off the team?"

"Truth be told, yes!" Bonnie replied, while darting her eyes around.

Jenna then turned to Rebecca. "So you see, due to 'The Incident' , a brawl was inevitable between the Dancers and the Cheer Squad."

She then continued on the aftermath.

"A few days after that, me and Kim agreed for the Cheer Squad and the Dancers to set up a truce that we won't carry our rivalry on the school grounds during school hours. It's now pretty much limited to mean glares and taunting. No practical jokes or physical contact that would draw the ire of the school board."

"It's a controlled rivalry, then?" Rebecca asked.

Jeanna, Genna, and Bonnie all nodded their heads.

Genna then intervened on Rebecca and Bonnie's intent of visiting.

"So now that we've got the deets of 'The Incident' out of the way, I am going to ask again, Rockwaller. Why are you and..."

Jeanna then whispered in Genna's ear on who the other girl was with Bonnie.

Genna gasped, "That so can't be! That's Rebecca Starlet, the billionaire heiress to the Starlet family oil fortune!"

"OMG! I totally loved your reality show about what's it's like being rich and all..." Jeanna exclaimed breathlessly before having a forgetful moment. "Oh man...what's that show called again?"

"Being Rich with a Starlett?" Rebecca guessed with a smirk.

"That's the one!" Genna said in between breaths. "Oh man...I'm so amazed that we have a celeb here that I forgot what we were talking about!"

"You were about to say, 'Why are you here', Genna!" Richard corrected his girlfriend.

"Oh right!" Genna replied before taking a deep breath. "Forgive my fangirling, but why exactly are you and Miss Starlet here for, Rockwaller?"

"We're here because we need your BF's help to not only humiliate Possible, but also break the loser couple up for good!" Bonnie replied on their real intent of their visit. "Since he has already graduated from Middleton High, he won't have the threat of Barkin dangling over his head."

"Yeah, before I met this lovely lady here..." Richard said, turning his head towards Genna, "...I did have a blind date with Kim last year...only to be rejected by her dad, all because I was 18 months older than she was!"

"And I also only had one date with that redhead around that same time..." Jack snarled, "Just because I made a pass at Jeanna does not mean that she has the right to splash water in my face!"

"So we have at least something in common...hatred against the wannabe for at least something" Bonnie grinned, "Well...except for Rebecca because she's not on Possible's radar...yet."

"Yes, but what is in it for me and Jeanna if we go along with your little plot of breaking up the couple?" Genna asked.

Bonnie shifted her teal eyes to Rebecca.

"R, would you like to demonstrate?"

"I sure can, B!" Rebecca grinned as she took out two credit cards with a $100,000 limit on each to Country Club Banana.

Jeanna gasped, "That is genuine Country CB?"

Rebecca nodded her head.

"You would have to pass a credit card check just to even get in the place!" Genna exclaimed, her jaw dropping.

Rebecca continued, "My daddy gave it to me last Christmas, but I still haven't figured out to do with them. So may as well put them to good use!"

"Rebecca will give you the Country CB credit cards IF the plan to break up Possible and Stupidable is successful." Bonnie explained. "If you fail, you get nothing!"

"In exchange, me and my Dancers will not play any practical jokes on you or any of your cheerleaders for the rest of summer except for the intended target of Miss Possible!" Jeanna replied.

"Do we have a deal?" Bonnie asked grinning, extending out her hand.

Jeanna also extended her hand and shook hers with Bonnie's, sealing the agreement.

"Now..." she began, "...here's the plan."

And the six teens began to discuss at length Bonnie's vile plan to break up Team Possible.

[neverending-space]

Get away (Draco Malfoy x reader)

Part 1

Description: What happens when a certain blonde rich kid has to spend the summer with you and your muggle family? It can’t be that bad... right?

A/N: The story is set in 2019 and you and Draco are about to go into 4th year. Sorry for the shit writing.

Warnings: None

Part 2

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You sat on your couch watching Brooklyn 99, waiting for your dad to get home from the airport. You see, earlier that month, your parents had told you that they were bringing a sort of “foreign exchange student” into the house for the summer. Apparently he also went to Hogwarts, so he would spend summer with you and your family then both of you would go to London and get whisked off to school. Great. You desperately hope that it wasn’t Crabbe or Goyle (or Cedric Diggory, a soon to be 7th year Hufflepuff who you fancied a little bit). They had not told you who it was, only that he was a he, for fear of you “throwing yourself off a bridge from anxiety”, to be fair, you probably would’ve done that, in fact, you wanted to do that right now! Despite being muggles (except you of course), your family was quite rich and well respected in the Wizarding community. You sang the intro song loudly to distract yourself from your thoughts, until you heard the car pull in. Bloody amazing. Great. Can’t wait. You thought, hurriedly putting away your IPad. There was a knocking on the door and (S/n) came sprinting towards the entrance room. The screeching of “Daddy!” rang in the air as you unsuccessfully tried to make your hair stop being annoying. As soon as your guest entered the house, your blood ran cold. “(Y/n)! I’m sure you know Draco!” Your dad smiled at you. Luckily, you were a good actor. Putting on the most realistic smile you could muster, you helped the pale, tall, annoyingly handsome asshole to your room (which you two were sharing). “This is fucking great. Wow. So excited. I get to spend the rest of my miserable summer with you.” You muttered, closing your door. “Nice room (L/n), like Sherlock then.” He sneered. “Oh no, I hate the show. Benedict Cumberbatch is the worst. That’s why I have all this shit.” You gesture towards all the posters and other memorabilia dedicated to the show in your room, tone full of sarcasm. “I knew your parents were muggles, but this place is… hateful!” He shuttered, looking around once more. “Mhm, I’m sure my parents would love to hear that! You will be a nice boy won’t you?” You patted his shoulder and he gave a low growl. Fuck. That’s actually really hot. You scrunch your face up in disgust at your own thoughts, and continued talking. “Now. We need some ground rules- don’t roll your eyes, you know it’s true- Okay. I don’t want my parents to know that you're a complete asshole, and I’m sure you don’t either. So while we’re around my family- we are friends.” Draco hesitantly muttered “Agreed” under his breath as you wrote on your whiteboard (which previously had had the word LAUGH on it): Rule 1: Friends when muggles are around. You raised your eyebrows in question and gestured towards the board. “Don’t bring up my parents. I don’t want to think about them.” You nodded and wrote that down. Rule 2: No Malfoy talk. Without hesitating, you also add: No-no words: Mudblood, any other slurs towards muggles, swearing (sorry) “Anything else?” You asked, looking at him. Melodramatically rolling his eyes, he shakes his head. “Good.”

After silently unpacking his stuff, your mum called you for dinner. “This is delicious (M/n)! Thank you both so much for having me here!” Wow! You thought. Draco is so good at kissing ass! Who knew! Both your parents smiled kindly and accepted his thanks. After an awkward dinner, you pulled Draco into your room and sat him on the couch. “We are going to watch all of the Marvel movies in chronological order and you are not going to complain.” You stood in front of him, hands on your hips. “Merlin’s beard! This is going to be torture!” He complained, pulling at his hair. You loaded up Captain America: First Avenger and sat down next to him. Halfway through Captain Marvel, your dad came into the room with two bowls of ice cream. “Thanks Dad!” You said, and Draco muttered his thanks as well.

“WHAT?!” Draco yelled. He had taken a liking to Loki and was raging about Odin. You chuckled lightly and Draco shot you another one of his famous glares. Your cat (who happened to be named Loki) sat down on Draco’s lap. “Aw, he likes you!” Draco rolled his eyes in annoyance which you returned with a cheeky smile.

Things continued like this throughout the following weeks. You two would pretend to be buds while around other people but when you were alone, you would either watch a movie or some tv show (Draco always insisted on either Marvel or Lucifer) ignore each other completely, or he would make fun of you and the stuff you liked. This all changed when your family was invited to go visit a friend who owned a private lake. You weren’t very fond of swimming, but the promise of a paddle board all to yourself was very enticing. The thought of being Draco-less in the middle of a lake calmed your mind.

You were laying on top of your paddle board when suddenly something pulled you in. As soon as you got to the surface you heard laughter. “Draco what the fuck dude! I thought I’d be safe!” He momentarily paused because you had never called him ‘Draco’ without anyone around. But started up again as you clambered onto the board. “You’re never safe (L/n)! Mwahahaha!” He leaned his arms on your board and looked at you with a shit eating grin. You rolled your eyes at the child beside you. Without asking, he hoisted himself up and sat next to you. This gave you a momentary chance to see his toned body in full glory. You hated that you were physically attracted to Draco, you really did, but it’s not like you chose to! The only people you told were Hermione and Luna, luckily they both understood. “You know, you’re not so bad when you’re quiet.” You looked up at Draco, who was looking at you with mischief in his eyes. Was it just your imagination, or was he leaning closer? You could feel your cheeks burning up, by the huge smirk on his face, it was obvious he noticed as well. Your brain was in overdrive, you couldn’t think, and the next thing you know, Draco is back in the water. He breaks into hysterics. “Y-your face! Merlin (L/n)! Ha!! It’s so red! You’re such an idiot!!” Great… You think.

[sserpente]

A/N: Request from @ilikebritsandbands. Here’s your long awaited Jack Sparrow fluff! ♥ I don’t know if this Imagine is historically correct but… let’s ignore that, savvy?

Words: 1616 Warnings: fluff, mentions of forced marriage

Fate was cruel—not as cruel as your father but cruel nonetheless. You refused to give up; you believed in your freedom. The more it was taken away from you, the more you fought for it.

They had attacked at night, taking gold, jewellery, expensive garments and other treasures. Pirates you had read so many stories about as a child. And all of your struggling, biting and scratching had been in vain when they took you, throwing you over their shoulder and carrying you back to a ship with black sails like a piece of furniture.

Your home was a prison. A safe and clean place your father kept you in until you could marry you off to an old and rich man for social reputation. The pirates expected a juicy ransom for your freedom—but by now, you had long left the haven and were sailing in midst of the seven seas, far away from help and civilisation.

At least they hadn’t thrown you into one of the dirty cells or tied you to the mast for the crew to gape at you like hungry animals. In fact… in fact the pirates who had taken you were by far the most peculiar bunch you had ever met—especially their Captain.

None of them were exceptionally cruel or ruthless. They made sure you had water and food, had even given you a coat so you would not freeze. The first mate—Gibbs, you believed he was called—had even apologised for all the inconvenience. You had almost laughed out loud.

You had been counting the days since your abduction, of course. Halloween was coming up, tonight. Back when your mother was still alive, you had always carved pumpkins and lit them up with candles, then cooked pumpkin cream soup and baked pumpkin pies together. You missed the times you were young, free and careless.

Now, you weren’t even on firm ground anymore. Around you, masses of salt water expanding all the way to the horizon and beyond it.

“Ha! Found me another bottle of rum, luv!” Jack grinned when he entered the Captain’s cabin, strutting into the small room proudly.

Your smile was sad. Jack Sparrow was a strange fellow. A pirate with a criminal history, yes, but also a man with a good heart. Besides, he was really handsome. You’d rather get betrothed to him than this greasy old man your father had chosen for you.

Jack had spent hours studying old maps last night. He was onto something—and whenever he was onto something, he would drink half of the ship’s rum supplies. He uncorked it with a silent pop, then handed it to you before sitting back down at his wooden desk.

“Ladies first?”

You shook your head with pursed lips. The taste of rum was disgusting. You did enjoy the occasional glass of wine when dining with your father but rum was too strong, too intense. Jack shrugged and took a big gulp himself. You did not realise you were still watching him until his dark eyes locked with yours.

“Why the long face, luv?”

You shook your head once more. “I’m homesick.” You admitted. What you did not expect was the hint of compassion and pity reflecting in his expression.

“We’ll be back in a week’s time. Yer journey will end if yer father agrees to our terms and conditions.” He remarked with a grin.

You snorted. “I don’t even know if I want to go back there. My father means to marry me off to some rich snot thrice my age.” But you knew Jack wouldn’t just let you go without getting anything out of it himself—and if one of your father’s servants was awaiting the Black Pearl to hand over the gold and pick you up, being trapped in your room until your wedding would be no better than being trapped on a ship.

“Sorry, luv. Yer welcome to stay with me, too. Wouldn’t mind the company. Gibbs always says having a woman on board is bad luck I think it’s worse without them.” He suggested with a smirk, taking another sip of his rum.

You refused to admit you were actually considering this. Perhaps one day, you would be able to go your own way either way.

“Where are we docking tonight? You said we would be filling up supplies.” You said instead.

“Tortuga.”

“Tortuga? The… the pirate haven?”

“The very same.”

Your face distorted. You had heard stories about Tortuga. Bad stories. That’s what came with travelling with pirates, even if it was against your will.

“C’mon, luv. What can I do to put a smile on yer face?” You snorted.

“You could take me to a farmer to buy a pumpkin.”

Jack blinked, entirely taken aback. “A pumpkin, luv?”

“Yes. A pumpkin, to carve for Halloween. It’s coming up.”

The pirate looked at you like you had just stolen his beloved ship, eliciting a giggle from you. “Yer want to do what?”

“It’s called a Jack O’Lantern. To scare away evil winter spirits.”

Jack pouted into his rum bottle. “Could use some of that… So yer want me to buy you a pumpkin, luv?”

“Or steal one. Whatever it is you pirates do in situations like that.” The Captain grinned cheekily. “In return, I could make some pies with the guts?” Jack still looked a little disturbed. Usually, women would ask for jewellery or dresses… not pumpkins. But eventually, he agreed.

-

Tortuga wasn’t by far as scary as you had imagined it would be. There were drunks and prostitutes, yes, and people throwing insults and bottles at each other… and it smelled like urine, alcohol and smoke but apart from that… you had expected much worse.

Instinctively, when you passed a group of men who walked past bellowing obscene things at you, you grabbed Jack’s hand and held it tightly, causing him to wrap his arm around you and keep you close.

Ironic, really. Instead of trying to get away from your captor, you were getting even closer to him.

“Yer alright there, luv? I’m quite known here. Yer have nothing to worry about, savvy?”

Well. Last time he had said this somebody had slapped him in the face mere moments after.

“There’s a grocery farmer right around the corner. Yer pick yer pumpkin quickly, toss him a coin and then we leave.” He warned you contritely.

“I pick the pumpkin?”

“It’s not me pumpkin, luv. As long as I get me pie.” Jack had the audacity to wink—and for some peculiar reason, your heart sped up unlike it ever had when meeting with your future husband. “And I owe him money…” He added quietly.

You giggled once more—not just because you were not surprised but also because as soon as you had purchased your pumpkin—the biggest and most beautiful one you could find—Jack Sparrow looked downright adorable carrying it back to the ship all by himself where the crew was already waiting for him to leave the haven again.

On deck, you got to work right away, earning you a few confused glances as you began carving a spooky face into the pumpkin with a dagger Marty had lent you and collected the sticky guts in a bucket. Something… something felt oddly strange as you set foot on the wooden ship again, the gentle waves beneath your soles somewhat familiar and reassuring.

Jack raised an eyebrow at you when you finished and grabbed some candles to place them inside the hollow pumpkin, lighting it up and promising to the crew how adorable your little creation would look at nightfall. But he only shrugged, suppressing an amused smirk. It was rather easy, making you happy. In some aspects, you reminded him of Elizabeth. A polite gentlewoman but not up the creek without a paddle upon being ripped from wealthy life… if he didn’t plan on collecting his ransom for you and drop you off back at your father’s… he’d even consider keeping you by his side; if you wanted to.

Singing an old Halloween song to yourself, you made your way to the ship’s kitchen to make those pumpkin pies you had promised Jack. It was only when you shoved it in the giant oven Gibbs had to help you heat up, you realised just what was so different. You didn’t feel like a prisoner anymore.

Jack was treating you gently, like a crew member with privileges. No one was cruel, no one was heartless… and now he had even bought a pumpkin for you.

“Me pumpkin pies ready yet, luv?” He appeared behind you, slurring a little. Only God knew how many bottles of rum they had taken with them from Tortuga. Greedily, Jack reached for one of the treats—and promptly cursed loudly as he tossed it in the air repeatedly until it had cooled down a little.

“Ow! Hot!”

“Jack…” You began when he took a bite, chuckling when he started moaning. “Jack?”

“Buying you that pumpkin was a good investment, luv.”

“I’m glad you think so… Jack?”

“Hmm?” He took another bite, already reaching for the next pie in the process.

“What happens when my father pays you the ransom?”

The pirate immediately stopped chewing.

“Yer not gonna go back to yer husband, hmm?” You shook your head in response.

“I… it’s not so bad here. Sailing with you…” And you slowly felt like living on the ship, sailing the seven seas was not deprivation of freedom after all… but much rather the incarnation of freedom itself.

Jack grinned. “In that case… welcome on board, me luv.” You smiled when he bit into the next pumpkin pie.

-

A/N: Check out my blog to find more Imagines and take a glimpse at my first (to be) published novel! Also, if you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate so much if you supported me on Kofi! ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

[guardianofjunmyeon]

Finding Atlantis (part 10)

Genre: Action/Adventure, Enemies to Lovers, PirateAU

Description: 20 years ago the seas became angry. Unruly and unkind to any sailor, to any ship that dared venture too far out in her waters. Many a man has heard the tales of Atlantis, the lost city, the key the ocean. But fewer men know the tale of it’s missing child. The key to the ocean, the key to Atlantis but a lost little one. The power one would hold should they find this child would be nearly that of Poseidon himself. Thus, the hunt began.

A/N: these chapters are always so long i am so sorry !!! I love krystal and sulli don’t let the way i wrote them trick you into thinking i dont

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18

“MAN OVERBOARD! JUNMYEON HAS FALLEN OVER BOARD.” You stomp over to the edge of the ship and look back where you last saw Junmyeon. You left him behind.

You left Junmyeon behind.

“They bleed blue,” you murmur to yourself. “They bleed blue!” you shout to your crew. “If you have any doubt about whether someone is real or not, shoot first and apologize later,” you command. “Stop the ship now. I need two people with me to go rescue Junmyeon.” You secure your gun in its holster and make your way towards the dinghies secured off the side of the ship. “They’ve seen half of our faces so no one is safe from being assumed an imposter.” You pull your gun back out of its holster and add two more bullets to its chamber.

“Can I come with you?” Jongin places his hand on your shoulder and you tense at the touch. When you look into his eyes, for a second you feel calmed.

“Yes, but we need at least one more person. Have you had to fight a siren before?” you ask him as you make a mental note of what weapons you have on your person.

Jongin shakes his head. “The last time we were here we never left the ship, but I think that Chanyeol would be best to accompany us.”

“Bring him then. We don’t have any more time to waste.” Jongin bounds off to find the other pirate and you take quick steps towards Yixing who has reappeared back on deck crouched next to the body of the siren. “I’m leaving the ship in your hands. Jongin and Chanyeol are going with me. Double check that everyone else is accounted for and actually who they seem to be while we go after Junmyeon.”

“Are you sure you should do this? What if that wasn’t him?”

“Have you seen Junmyeon anywhere on the ship in the last 10 minutes?”

He closes his mouth at the question. You set your lips in a grim line.

“Like I said, we’re going after him. If we aren’t back in a reasonable amount of time, you know what to do.”

Yixing nods and stands up from his position near the ground. “Be safe,” he says gently.

You can’t promise him that you will, so you break eye contact and look towards the rocks that make up the island. There’s no way for you to know what you will face, and you’ll do whatever it takes to get Junmyeon back to safety. Your safety in all of that isn’t your priority.

“Captain, Chanyeol and I are ready when you are,” Jongin says, stepping into your line of vision with Chanyeol close behind.

“We’ll be back,” is all you can assure Yixing. Luckily he accepts it as he watches you set off towards the water.

Once the boat is lowered, Jongin takes charge of rowing in the direction that you point him towards. The ride is silent.

Silent?

“Do you guys hear any singing?” you question.

Chanyeol’s head tilts to the side curiously before his eyes widen. “No…I don’t think I’ve heard anything in the last few minutes.”

“I haven’t heard anything since the screeching…” Jongin adds.

You wonder if the screech was a warning sound to the others. Perhaps they have stopped singing all together to hide –now that one of them has been killed.

“Chanyeol, how often are sirens killed?”

He scratches the top of his head. “I don’t know. Not often. People don’t ever get close enough to be able to kill them.”

“Then they’re probably not very happy that we killed the one that made it on the ship, huh?”

“No duh,” Jongin huffs out.

It’s their own fault for climbing aboard your ship. You wouldn’t have been able to kill it had it not been right there next to you.

Laughter floats from the trees and you feel everyone aboard the little boat stiffen. You catch a glimpse of blonde hair in your periphery. It’s gone in a flash, lost in the trees along with the laughter, but you know that you caught sight of it.

“I’ve always fucking hated sirens,” Chanyeol grumbles out.

You have to say that you are beginning to feel the same.

“Jongin wait, take us to the left. I see something over that way,” Chanyeol points out a spot on the bank of the water where there seems to be signs of a recent disturbance. It’s wet with a trail large enough to be that of someone pulling themselves out of the water.

It looks like it could be where Junmyeon was able to pull himself on land.

Unless he was being pulled down, you know for a fact that Junmyeon could get himself to land. Outside of Yixing, he’s the strongest swimmer on your crew.

The only sounds that fill your ears are the tinkling of the waterfalls and the sound of the paddles hitting water and bringing you closer to shore. The hairs on your body stand at attention. Every sense on alert as you step out of the boat and look around the land.

Chanyeol squats down where the trail is located and touches it with careful fingers. Jongin hefts the boat far enough on land that it won’t be pulled back out to sea. You hear shuffling in the bushes to your right and reach for your gun. You feel itchy to kill something. Whether this be siren or some wild animal, you don’t think that you care. So long as you can shoot and release some of this pent up anxious energy.

Your arm loses all of the tension that had built up –eager to pull out your pistol- and falls limply to your side when Junmyeon comes stumbling out of the trees.

He’s limping and gripping at his arm as if in pain, his clothes are still soaked and he looks dirty and tired, but when his eyes meet yours he smiles.

“Captain,” he rasps.

Your nose burns immediately at the threat of tears. You make it one step towards him before you’re stopped and pulled back. You whip your head around to find Jongin grabbing your bicep with a look of desperation in his eyes. He shakes his head almost imperceptibly.

You don’t even get the chance to question him when the sound of a gunshot rings through the air. Jongin winces, and his grip on your arm loosens enough for you to slip out and turn back to find Junmyeon bleeding from the injured arm he’d been holding earlier.

His blood gushes out blue.

You stand frozen in your spot as the siren sneers and contorts Junmyeon’s face in a horrifyingly angry expression. It screeches shrilly and tries to limp back into the trees, but it seems as though its limp was genuine and that slows it down greatly. Jongin is tackling it to the ground while Chanyeol is busy putting another bullet into his pistol. Your mind whirs back to life and you run towards the siren and hold down its thrashing legs while Jongin controls its arms. It gets a solid kick to your shoulder before you’re able to hold it down.

Despite the dirt covering its body, you notice now that it isn’t bleeding anywhere outside of where it was hurt by Chanyeol. You wonder if they are unable to replicate human blood.

The siren writhes and you grit your teeth trying to hold it still.

“Where did you take him?!” you shout over the rustling of the brush from its squirming.

It laughs loudly and its back arches high enough off the ground that you briefly think it will start levitating. You and Jongin put more of your weight on it to keep it restrained.

“Where is the man you’re disguised as?” Chanyeol tries. He cocks the gun. The siren cackles wildly, nearly to tears, but makes no move to answer either of your questions.

“I don’t think it’s going to talk,” Jongin murmurs.

As if to agree with his words, the siren leans up as much as it can, looks straight into your eyes, and bites off its own tongue.

It spits it out right at Chanyeol’s feet. The once pink tip turns long, slimy and deep blue as it hits the ground. You feel sick at the sight of –what looks like Junmyeon bleeding blue from the mouth with a vile smile across his face. The three of you look at the tongue in surprise.

“No more questions then I assume?” Chanyeol asks you. He points his gun to the sirens head. Despite knowing that it’s just a monster, you don't think you’ll be able to watch someone kill, what looks like, Junmyeon. You close your eyes and turn your head away from him.

You nod your head and screw your eyes tighter together. You hear the single shot and feel the way the body stiffens and freezes beneath your hands. You only open your eyes when you feel a hand on your shoulder.

Chanyeol looks down at you sympathetically, and you let go of a breath that was trapped in your throat. When you look down at your hands where they are still holding down the siren, you see the grey skin beneath your palms and realize that you no longer feel wet clothing but the moist scaly skin of the dead siren.

It’s no longer Junmyeon.

You jerk your hands away and frown down at the body. Despite this being the third siren you’ve seen in its true form, you have yet to grow comfortable with just how horrid they look.

They cannot be something of nature. You wonder what made them into the creatures they are. Perhaps they angered one of the Gods and were cursed.

Whatever the reason may be, it’s none of your concern why they are the way that they are. They’re evil and have potentially hurt Junmyeon.

That's all that you dare care about right now.

“Let’s go,” you grunt out and stand to your feet. If you weren’t in a bad mood before, the sirens are doing a spectacular job of putting you in one.

Unsheathing your sword, you march towards the trees and slice through branches and vines with more force than needed to cut down the weak foliage that hangs down in your way. For a full five minutes you take your anger out on the nature that surrounds you as you walk forward with no plan.

“C-Captain-”

You freeze in your tracks at the tentative timbre of Jongin’s voice and realize in your stillness that your arms are shaking. You clench your fist tighter around the hilt of your blade.

“What?” you bite out, trying your hardest not to let your frustration appear in your voice.

You’re frustrated with yourself –extremely. The sirens have tricked you twice now, three times if you count being fooled into thinking that when you saw Junmyeon in the water that it was fake. The constant trickery makes you feel as though you aren’t competent enough to handle this mission. You are a seasoned pirate, you should be able to think rationally and not be tricked by silly deceptions like these.

You’re the god damned Captain of the Storm Chaser.

A Captain who has been fooled thrice now by illusions and lost a member of their crew in the middle of another trial. You're sick of losing members of your crew, sick of these trials, and especially sick of these god damned mother fucking death mermaids.

“Maybe one of us should lead? You seem a bit…tired,” Jongin finishes cautiously and looks over to Chanyeol.

“No. You seem like you’re on the verge of a fucking breakdown,” Chanyeol corrects easily. Jongin frowns and smacks the taller on the arm. Chanyeol is unfazed and offers nothing but a short shrug. “You do.”

You inhale and close your eyes. When you exhale you try to release the tension that has accumulated in your muscles. It only lessens slightly.

“I’m fine,” you start. You open your eyes and feel a fresh wave of awareness wash over you. You mind feels more cleared than it has in the last hour –even if it is only by a small margin. “I’m fine now. Just…let’s find Junmyeon and get as far away from this cursed fucking island as we can as fast as possible.” You grimace. “And let’s try not to get distracted,” you say more for your own sake.

Even with your head a bit more clear, you think that it may be a better idea for someone else to lead for a while. Wordlessly, you motion Chanyeol ahead of you in an unspoken command. He nods and takes out his own sword so that he can cut through the foliage.

As he trudges forward and you fall behind him, Jongin falls behind as well.

“Are you doing okay, Cap’n?” Jongin whispers. “You seem overwhelmed.”

“I am overwhelmed,” you state bluntly. Leaves and branches crunch under your boots. “This new situation with sirens and being tricked three times is wearing on my mind.” You glance from Chanyeol’s back to Jongin at your side. An empathetic pout rests on his face. You hold in the urge to pinch his lips to make him stop. “If it wasn’t stressing me out, then it wouldn’t be a trial now would it?” You try to make light of it. Jongin doesn’t seem moved by your attempt, so you set your lips in a line and focus back on the sweat dripping down the back of Chanyeol’s nape and into the soaking wet neckline of his blouse.

If you feel stressed, you can’t imagine what Junmyeon is experiencing. These are trials meant to test his commitment to getting home. You know that that must be weighing on him in a way you couldn’t even begin to imagine. This could be the last chance he has to return home and if this fails then it will crush him.

Determination flaring, you turn your attention to your surrounds to look for any signs that Junmyeon has been in the area. You have to finish this for him. Find him. Recuperate. Get him home. Not just for your or his sake. But for the sake of the ocean. Things are much bigger than you.

You have to.  

Minutes pass before you finally catch sight of something out of the ordinary. Something glimmers excitedly in your periphery. “Chanyeol wait. Do you guys see that?”

You point in the direction you see the shining object. Chanyeol and Jongin squint towards it; Jongin gasps.

“Is that a sword?” he walks forward unexpectedly, steps eager, and you and Chanyeol rush after him once the shock of him abruptly walking towards it has passed. A vine smacks you in your face; you pull it down with an unnecessary amount of strength.

You are sick of this fucking island.

As your group approaches the object, it becomes clear that it is in fact a sword. The sword is driven into the dirt –nearly to the hilt- and the sun rays that are able to break through the trees above shine down and illuminate the metal. The sword looks like Junmyeon’s at first glance, and the emblem of a water drop etched into the bottom of the blade confirms it.

Jongin walks over and pulls it from the ground. You don’t even have a moment to consider that it may be a trap.

And then everything happens at once.

From the hole left in the ground where the sword was once buried, green mist sprays into the air. It’s light in color and smells floral –a bit like lavender. It fills the air quickly. Jongin drops the sword as if burned; you don’t see the body in the trees until it’s dropping down onto his back, tackling him to the ground.

Before you can call out, you’re knocked to the ground from the weight of a body landing on your back. Adrenaline pumps frantically and you muster the strength to toss the body off of you. “IT’S A TRAP!” you shout frantically, as if the words alone will save you at this point. With the words you take in a huge breath of the green mist and you feel your muscles weaken immediately. Laughter fills your ears as your eyes get heavier.

Poisonous gas.

The mist becomes thicker, and you can no longer find Chanyeol or Jongin among the fog.

“Get…help…” you murmur. The gas seeps into your lungs, into your pores, into any entry point that it can and paralyzes you. First your muscles, then your nerves, and then finally your brain. You slip into darkness without even being given the chance to put up a fight.

~~~

The recognizable sound of a rushing waterfall startles you awake. With a gasp your eyes fly open.

You can clearly remember the green mist and being tackled to the ground. Whatever was in the cloud that numbed you must have been some kind of a sleeping agent.

Everything is dark around you and stars speckle the sky above.

Hours must have passed since you were ambushed.

Though the sky is dark, the ground is alight with life. Bioluminescent mushrooms and plants speckle the dirt around you and are placed deliberately to your left and create a path towards the waterfall. Your shoulders are tense from the amount of time you’ve spent with your arms tied behind your back and crushed against what feels like a dead body. You wiggle your fingers to make sure that you can feel your hands with your wrists bound. The rope around your middle, securing you to the other mass, is tight and digs painfully into your abdomen.

You crane your neck to the side to see who exactly you’re tied to. Their neck is crooked in what has to be an extremely uncomfortable position, but they’re definitely breathing and just sleeping at your side. If you had to guess from the neck and shirt that you can just barely see, you’d guess that this body is Chanyeol. When you look to your other side you see what has to be Jongin hunched over the rope asleep and tugging you and Chanyeol’s bodies in his direction. You struggle to sit up and alleviate the strain being put on your body trying to accommodate Jongin’s position.

“Fuck, why’d they tie us together like this?” you hiss under your breath. The rush of the waterfall is loud and you feel droplets of water reaching your skin even from where you’re tied up a ways away. No matter how you try to twist your hands you can't loosen the hold of the rope.

Jongin and Chanyeol remain asleep.

The three of you are going to die here.

You are ready to accept that fate, but you continue to search for any way to escape. You might die, but not without some kind of a struggle.

In the middle of you rubbing your wrists bloody and raw from pulling and scraping against the rope, the waterfall begins to split down the middle. It parts like a crystalline curtain to reveal what appears to be a cave hidden in the rock face. Jewels twinkle inside of it. Through the cascading curtains out steps a figure that has become oh-too-familiar to you. You scowl and tense in defense.

The blonde siren smiles when she finds you awake and staring her way. She looks relaxed in her gown of water, illuminated by the greenish glow of the plants and fungi around you. She looks as if she has not a single care in the world. After neutralizing you and your men, you suppose she doesn’t.

Languidly she struts towards you, almost like she’s gliding on air. Her hair billows behind her even with the distinct lack of wind blowing. She looks ethereal.

“Our first riser,” she coos. Her skin is as smooth as porcelain and you can see now that even when she smiles, there is not a single eye crinkle or smile line. Clasping her hands behind her back she leans to each side of you to take a look at each of the still sleeping crewmen you’re tied to. “You must not have inhaled as much as they did. Interesting,” she comments offhandedly –as if making an observation to use later in further research after an experiment.

You can’t stop yourself from asking, “Who are you?”

The smile doesn’t leave her lips.

“I know you’ve been watching us. Are you the one who planned our ambush? The one who had my crewman fall off the ship?”

“You’re an inquisitive one, aren’t you?” She chuckles. A hand with immaculately decorated nails reaches out to stroke your cheek. Her nails shine like freshly cut diamonds in the dark. “Not quite as dumb as you look either. I was almost sure that first illusion of your little friend would be enough to distract you from the prince falling into the water.”

You flinch at her touch and feel anger at the insinuation that a single conversation with Baekhyun would mean more to you than Junmyeon’s life.

“Ah, but your question,” she yawns and stretches out long slim limbs. The crack of her bones is loud, unnatural. “I suppose I could spare you an explanation. You are to die here, so it would be kind to allow you the privilege to understand why you have met this fate, no?”

You decide not to respond. She continues on.

“I am the leader of this island, the head siren –a queen if you desire a more relatable title. I have led those who inhabit this island for centuries. We have seen many ships come and even fewer go, but you…strange one, are the first to kill multiple of my subjects.” There is a flash of rage in her eyes before cold indifference settles back in them.

“Wouldn’t have happened if you'd stayed off my ship and left my crew alone,” you say curtly.

She rolls her eyes. “Where’s the fun in that?”

You pull against the ropes again. The knot is tied too well. You won’t be able to escape unless you cut it. Your jostling seems to wake Jongin –if the groggy groan from him is anything to go by.

“Where’s Junmyeon?”

“The prince?” she waves a hand in the air dismissively. “Do not worry. He is safe. We do not plan to hurt him yet. He is too useful.”

“Useful?”

“His father. That cursed man,” she hisses. Insanity swirls in her eyes. “We were all beautiful, you know? Me and my subjects. Our beauty was coveted by everyone, but that damned God Poseidon turned us into- into this.” She stands to her full height and the illusion of a beautiful maiden changes into that of the monstrous figure that matches all of the other sirens you’ve encountered. Bile immediately rises in your throat. “He turned us into these disgusting creatures all because we let a single ship escape our island unsunk.” She laughs bitterly, but in her natural state it comes out gravelly and deep.

Jongin moans again at your side. The siren’s eyes flicker towards him in anger. “One ship of men got away and now we are doomed to live out our days as disgusting fish creatures. The prince will be our way back to beauty.” Her eyes slide back to you. She seems less unhinged as she continues on. “He will guarantee that we are restored to normal.”

Understanding hits you like a brick. “You’re going to use him as bait to get to Poseidon…”

You almost want to laugh at the ridiculousness of it. If his father cared about him, he would have stepped in long ago. Junmyeon has told you about his estranged father and knowing what you’ve been told, you’d be truly astounded if he bothered to step in to save a single demigod son when he has tens of other ones. Especially not one who isn’t even in line to be king of Atlantis.

“Good fucking luck with that,” you scoff out.

A displeased grumble emits from her throat before she transforms back into the blonde maiden.

“Krystal!” She turns around at the new voice.

Another woman comes bounding out of the cave –her hair black, lips plump and a similar (almost translucent) complexion. “Krystal,” she says again. “There is trouble on the eastern side of the island.”

“Thank you Sulli. I will be there shortly,” the blonde siren, Krystal, says to the other. You hope whatever the trouble is kills at least half of them.

The siren Sulli nods after the acknowledgement from her queen and then runs back off without a single glance in your direction. You’d be annoyed if you weren’t already completely done with this entire situation.

“Looks like it’s about time that we kill you and your friends. Pity, I would have liked you to join us,” she looks beyond you and you feel a tug in the rope.

Jongin is awake. He doesn’t speak but the noise of discomfort he makes at her comment towards him is enough of a response you think.

“I think he’ll pass,” you say mockingly.

“Quite the mouth on you.”

“I’d like to think it’s my charm,” you smile, all teeth, without any emotion. It’s as empty as you feel.

Her lip turns down in discomfort. Done humoring you after your comment, she turns back around and walks towards the waterfall.

Rude.

You watch her receding figure until the water closes behind her –naturally, as if never disturbed.

When you turn back around, you knock your head into Jongin’s. “What the fuck-”

“Sorry I was…watching her,” he explains. He moves back into his space and you both squirm uncomfortably against your restraints, surrounded only by the rumble of the waterfall.

Minutes pass of nothing.

What is there to say?

You know that it’s been far longer than a “reasonable amount of time” that you’ve all been missing. The protocol that Yixing should be following is to search for you all for a total of 12 hours and then leave you behind if there is no sign of you all. It’s been at least 8 since you left the ship and from the way the sirens were able to trick you all, you think that making it seem like you’ve all vanished or are dead for another 4 will be an easy enough scene to conjure up.

After all you still have no idea where they’re keeping Junmyeon.

At the very least, you hope that they find him and get out and continue the mission.

“So…” Jongin flinches hard next to you at the sudden sound of Chanyeol’s voice. You aren’t as shocked to find him suddenly awake. “We’re gonna die here, huh?”

You take in a large breath and pull at your sore wrists again only to be met with the same amount of resistance. “Yeah…looks like it,” you mutter tiredly. Jongin lets out a whine from the back of his throat.

“Any last minute confessions before we die?” Chanyeol throws out. “Anyone in love with me? Now is your last chance to say it, unfortunately I will have to reject you.”

You’re too tired to snort in annoyance. You settle for an exasperated exhale.

“I put shoe polish on my lips once because I thought it was lip balm,” Jongin rushes out in a single breath –as if the confession winds him.

There’s a pause of silence.

Chanyeol giggles. You blink dumbly.

“You what???” You ask.

“We’re about to die, I can’t confess without judgment? I thought it was lip balm okay?!”

“I once stole one of Kyungsoo’s swords and blamed it on you Jongin.” Chanyeol’s confession comes next in an equally nervous rush of words.

“That was you?!” Jongin asks Chanyeol incredulously. The rope pulls as he strains to look at Chanyeol. “Kyungsoo was pissed at me for weeks! When we get out of here I am telling-”

“YOU CAN’T! IF WE DON’T DIE HERE THEN HE’LL KILL ME!” He lowers his voice in embarrassment. “You know I like him-”

“YEAH WELL TOUGH SHIT YOU DESERVE IT!”

“WELL I KNOW YOU LIED TO SEHUN AND TOLD HIM THAT THE DOG HE HAD FOR A MONTH RIPPED HIS FAVORITE PANTS BUT IT WAS REALLY YOU AND I’LL TELL AND THEN WE’LL ALL FUCKING DIE!”

Jongin nearly screeches. You barely follow the conversation since this seems to be stuff that happened from before they joined your crew. You listen to the two of them go back and forth whining and complaining for longer than you’d think they could keep up an argument as you contemplate sharing your own secret.

The Chanyeol liking Kyungsoo thing is news to you, but you aren’t all that shocked by it. If the way Chanyeol seems to all but live in the kitchens when he’s not needed in the artillery is anything to go by.

His confession makes you feel a bit braver about voicing your own. It feels like acid sitting on your tongue, but knowing that this could be your last night alive, you feel the urge to just say it. Aloud. You’ve been thinking it over for a few days and you may be dumb and stubborn but you are anything but stupid.

Jongin and Chanyeol are still going at each other and Jongin’s whining is almost teary as Chanyeol switches to lightly bullying the younger instead.

“I like Baekhyun.” You whisper the words to yourself, so soft that the crashing of the waterfall can drown it out. When neither of them acknowledge your nearly silent words, you sag forward in relief. You feel a bit lighter having said it and even more at ease knowing that you went unheard by the two men tied to you who are still arguing childishly.

“Shut up I don’t actually hate you, big cry baby.” Chanyeol huffs out.

“Really?” Jongin sniffles.

“Yes really, dumbass.” Chanyeol’s head turns as far in your direction as he can given your positions. “Wait what did you say Captain?”

You’re quick to try and brush it off. “Nothing-”

“That she likes Captain Baekhyun but everyone already knows that. That’s not a confession,” Jongin warbles out before just flat out collapsing forward in another wave of sobs. You have no idea how he’s able to have a full on breakdown but still angrily complain about your words. You’re so stunned by his crying that you can’t even try and deflect or defend yourself.

“Jongin…are you…okay?” you ask tentatively.

“No! Chanyeol is mean and you’re dumb and so is Baekhyun and we’re gonna die and no one is going to be happy!” He manages to whine out.

“He’s fine he just gets emotional easily,” Chanyeol whispers to you loudly (read: not at all). “It’s okay Jongin. I still love you even though when you cry you get extra cranky at everyone because we get to see how ugly you look with snot on your face.”

“Fuck you!”

The outrageousness of your situation makes you start to laugh so loudly that you startle yourself. There’s so much going on, you’re laughing more from the fact that you cannot believe where you are and what is going on rather than you finding a single thing happening funny. Tears fall from your eyes as the laughs keep bubbling out of your chest.

“She’s officially lost it,” Chanyeol grumbles. “It was only a matter of time. You’re crying and she’s laughing. This is not how I imagined I’d spend my last night alive.”

“For people tied up, you all sound like you’re having a lot of fun.”

“Holy shit! Where’d you come from?” You can’t see who Chanyeol is talking to, but you know the voice well enough to place it even in a thousand voices.

You try to crush the happiness that blossoms in your chest at being found.

At Baekhyun being here to save you.

You would retch at your reaction to him if there was any food in your stomach to throw up.

It’s not like he would leave Jongin and Chanyeol behind to die, you should have expected that he would come after them.

You close your eyes to try and squeeze away the last of the tears that had sprung to your eyes during your fit of uncontrolled laughter. The rope around your torso loosens and falls to your lap and you can finally take in a full breath for the first time in hours. Once the rope around your wrist is cut free you open your eyes and bring your hands up to your face to take in the crusted blood encircling your hands.

You’re hefted off the ground by your upper arms.

Spots dot your vision and you wobble dizzily on your feet. When you blink them away you come face to face with Baekhyun. If you weren’t exhausted and seeing stars, you’d think that you might see relief in his eyes. Fingers come up to wipe away the last of the hysterical tears lingering below your eyelashes. He’s shaking a bit.

There’s blood on his face. A mix of blue and red.

He’s real.

You fall forward to hug him before you can stop yourself. You feel him tense in surprise but he doesn’t shove you away the way you anticipated. Before he can reciprocate or even process what you’ve done, you let go and move away. You realize that Baekhyun hadn’t come alone when you see Kyungsoo being crushed in Chanyeol’s embrace and Jongin sandwiching him in. Jongin is crying into Kyungsoo’s sweat soaked back.

“How’d you guys find us?” you ask.

Kyungsoo forcefully pushes his way out of Chanyeol and Jongin’s arms. He acts annoyed, but you see the signs of happiness on his face. “We-”

Baekhyun jumps in to cut Kyungsoo off. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s just get out of here.”

“We can’t leave without Junmyeon.”

“Minseok and Seulgi have gone after him. They’re going to meet us by the dinghies,” Kyungsoo supplies. You notice now that he is also covered in blue and red blood. He’s real too.

You look down at the red blood crusting over your wrists and find matching cuffs of blood around Chanyeol and Jongin’s.

“They can’t fake human blood,” you tell Kyungsoo and Baekhyun.

“We know. We figured that out after we killed a couple of them,” Baekhyun says. You wobble again on your feet but catch yourself. “We should get you guys back to the ship. You need medical attention.”

“I don't know what was in the gas they used on us, but I know that I’m going to pass out if I don’t get food and water soon,” Jongin says.

You nod in agreement and your knees buckle.

“Kyungsoo, carry me back I can’t feel my legs,” Chanyeol whines dramatically before draping himself over the shorter. Kyungsoo sighs but doesn’t put up much of a fight outside of grabbing a handful of Chanyeol’s hair and yanking it hard enough to pull a shout out of the taller.

Jongin shakes his head but a smile graces his lips as he follows behind them.

“Can you walk?” Baekhyun asks you.

You look away from the receding figures of the others to look at him. “I’m fine,” you murmur. He cocks an unbelieving eyebrow. Stubbornly you take a step forward.

And your knees nearly give in.

Baekhyun catches you before you can fall and laughs one of his stupid laughs where it fades off and he sounds like he’s swallowing a load of his own saliva. You let him toss your arm over his shoulder and hobble beside him like a newborn with little use of their legs.

His arm around your waist is secure and he’s patient as he leads you out the way he and Kyungsoo came in.

“Thank you,” you start quietly. “For coming back for us.”

“We couldn’t just let you die,” he scoffs out. “Yixing would have probably had me and my men killed without you and Junmyeon there as insurance to show we’re needed.”

You doubt that. Yixing wouldn’t do that. Minseok maybe, but not Yixing. But you keep that to yourself.

For now, you’ll just enjoy being given the chance to live another day. And if you also indulgently enjoy the warmth of Baekhyun at your side holding you up…well, no one has to know about that.

[dearestdaffodils]

Season 1, Episode 1: PILOT

A/N: A lot of quotes and character dialogue is taken from the show! I am not trying to take credit for the amazing work the writers and actors and everyone involved in this show did! I also left out writing scenes that don’t involve the main group (IE: Ward and Sarah talking with Lana Grubbs) and a few other scenes simply because I wasn’t quite sure how to write them. 

Warnings (for the whole series): violence (as it is in the show), swearing, mentions of abuse, underage drinking and smoking, drug use

Word Count: 3579

“The Outer Banks, paradise on earth.” I tune out John B’s voice, ignoring his ‘welcome to the OBX’ speech for the camera. He was determined to make a documentary about our lives this summer, though I really didn’t know why. 

Welcome to the OBX, an island divided in two. You either have two houses or two jobs, that’s what John B always says. That blond boy sitting next to me, that’s JJ. My boyfriend. He’s as local as they come. Latest in a very long line of fishing, smuggling, vendetta-holding salt-lifers who make their living off the water. Don’t tell him I said this but he’s the best surfer I know. Mild kleptomaniac and probably a future tax cheat. 

The girl across from me is Kiara or Kie. When she’s not saving turtles or listening to Marley, or getting a dolphin tattoo, she hangs with us. None of us really know why she’s a rich kid after all. Next to her is the brains of our little operation. Pope. Finalist for the Lucas T. Vanderhorst Merit Scholarship and the smartest kid I know. 

The kid in the driver’s seat, the one who is paying more attention to his camera than the road, that’s John Booker Routledge, but everyone calls him John B. He’s kinda like my brother. He and his dad took me in when my family dumped me on their front porch when JB and I were about four. He drives me crazy and he knows it. 

And then there’s me. Y/N Y/L/N. Little Routledge as JB likes to call me even though I’m four months older than him. Big John disappeared nine months ago at sea, which means JB and I have been on our own since Uncle T split for Mississippi. Everyone insists that Big John is dead but John B refuses to sign the papers until he sees a body. 

Social workers have been on our asses nearly every day, trying to force us into foster care. John B and I have managed to avoid them so far. 

So this is how our story starts. Me losing nearly all of my second family and a social worker breathing down my neck. 

JB and I are probably the only two people in history to say this but thank god for hurricane Agatha. 

“Hurricane Agatha continues its steady march towards Kildare Island on the Outer Banks of North Carolina…” JB set the radio on the counter, turning up the volume as we listened for a miracle to keep DCS away. 

“Holy shit.” I look outside, taking in the dark sky and swirling wind. “JB, I think we found our miracle!” I shout over the storm siren, fishing my phone out of the couch cushions and dialing the number for DCS. “Yeah, I think we’re gonna have to reschedule.” I blurt into the phone, barely giving the woman time to answer. 

John B rips the phone out of my hand, hanging up and dragging me outside. “We gotta surf the storm surge!” 

“Are you insane?” I stumble after him, dodging tree branches. “Those aren’t surfable waves!” 

“Says who?” He laughs. “Come on!” He drags me along, pausing to grab our boards. 

I run after him, splashing into the water as the storm rages around us. I paddle after John B, surfing a few waves before the storm starts to pick up its pace. “JB! We gotta get inside!” I shout. John B stares out towards the open water, ignoring me. 

“JB!” I shout. “We have to go!” I turn to look at him, my gaze following his extended arm and index finger. My eyes land on a boat, getting tossed around in the storm. “John B, we don’t have time to worry about what those idiots are doing, let’s go!” 

🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌  🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 

The morning after a hurricane always feels like something out of a movie. The silence fills the gaps of life, save for the sound of chickens and the occasional shouts from neighbors.

I peel my eyes open, hearing John B moving around in the kitchen. I swing my legs over the side of my bed (which is really just two mattresses stacked on top of each other) and slowly stand up. I shield my eyes from the sunlight pouring in from my windows, moving the towels that double as my curtains out of the way.

I grab my phone from the stack of books next to my bed, checking the time. “No service,” I mutter, opening my door and stepping onto the cold wood floor of the Chateau. 

“JJ, you been outside?” John B asks the blond boy, shaking his shoulder. 

“I have polio, bro. I can’t walk.” JJ mumbles, burying his face deeper into the pillow. 

I make my way to the front door, lightly swatting at JJ to get him up. “Oh man…” I whisper, looking outside. “That’s no good.” I survey the yard, taking in the damage. “What’re you thinking, JB?” 

“I’m thinkin’ that storm surge pushed all the crabs out on the marsh maze. It’s God tellin’ us to fish since DCS isn’t getting on a ferry anytime soon.” John B grins. 

🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌  🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 

I stand on the bow of the HMS Pogue with JJ, looking at all the damage. “We’ll be cleaning this all summer.” I murmur, shaking my head. 

“That is my nightmare.” John B pipes up from behind the wheel, pulling up parallel to the dock just outside Heyward’s. “Well, look who we have here.” 

“I can’t.” Pope mimics static, pretending to talk into a radio on his shoulder. “My pop’s got me on lockdown.” 

“Your dad’s a pussy. Over.” JJ does the same, looking directly at Heyward. 

“Oh, I heard that, you little bastard.” Heyward glares at JJ.

“We need your son.” JJ flashes one of his signature smiles.

“Yeah, and island rules.” I bite my lip to stifle a laugh. “Day after hurricane’s a free day.” 

“Who made that up?” Heyward looks between me and Pope. 

“Pentagon, I believe.” I laugh. “We have security clearance. I have a card.” 

“You think I’m stupid?” Heyward frowns as Pope moves towards the edge of the dock. 

“I’ll do it tomorrow. I promise. Tomorrow.” Pope moves to jump into the boat as Heyward moves forward. 

“You think - no, no. Hell no. You doin’ it right now.” 

“Get in the boat, Pope,” I whisper. “Make a run for it.” 

Pope leaps into the boat, holding his hat on his head. “I promise I’ll do it tomorrow, dad!” 

“We’ll bring him back in one piece!” I call to Heyward, waving. 

The boys whoop and cheer, driving up to Kie’s dock. I smile wide, grabbing onto the dock as we wait for her. 

“Good morning!” Kie hurries down the dock, carrying her usual backpack and cooler, her hair neatly tied up on the top of her head. 

“Welcome aboard, fellow Pogue princess.” I laugh, saluting her. “Whatcha got? Juice boxes?”

“You know, just some yogurts and carrot sticks. I made sandwiches too, cut the crusts off how you like ‘em.” She teases, poking my nose. 

I help her onto the boat, grabbing a beer from the cooler as John B drives out into the marsh. He weaves through the channels, leaning back in the captain’s seat, looking as if he’s asleep at the wheel. I wouldn’t be concerned if he was though, he knows these waters better than he knows himself.  

“Can you go a little faster?” JJ asks, stepping up to the bow. “I got a party trick to show you.” He balances on the edge of the boat, tilting the beer bottle, letting the liquid flow freely from the bottle. 

“You’re getting beer in my hair!” Kie and I shout in unison, screaming and falling out of our seats as the boat hits something, stopping immediately. “Jesus, JB!” 

JJ groans, popping up from the water in front of the boat. “I think my heels touched the back of my head.” He chokes out. 

“What did you do?”  I push myself off the deck of the boat, resting a hand on John B’s shoulder. 

“Sandbar.” John B mumbles. “The channel changed.” 

“No shit, genius.” I shake my head. 

“Hey, I saved the beer, though!” JJ cheers. 

“Congrats, J.” I lean over the side, sticking my hand out to him. “Come on.” 

“Guys… I think there’s a boat down there.” Pope calls, looking over the other side of the boat. 

“Shut up, no way.” Kie scoffs. 

“I’m serious. There’s a boat down there.” Pope points. 

I join him on the side, looking down at the shape in the water. “Only one way to find out.” I shrug, quickly discarding my shirt and shorts before diving in. I swim down, peering around in the murky water. My eyes go wide and I swim up, grabbing onto the edge of the boat. “That’s a fucking Grady-White. A new one is like an easy 500 G’s.” 

“That’s the boat we saw when we surfed the surge.” John B looks at me. “Maybe it hit the jetty or something.” 

“Do we know whose boat that is?” Kie frowns. 

“No, but we’re about to find out.” I smile. 

“It’s way too deep.” JJ shakes his head. “You’re not going down there.” 

“Oh, for the weak and feeble, JJ.” John B chuckles. “Little Routledge can handle it.” He turns his attention to me, saluting me. “Diver down.” 

“Diver down.” I flip him off before diving back down, searching around the boat. I pop up after a moment, pushing my hair out of my face. 

“Any dead bodies?” Pope asks nervously. 

“Looting potential?” JJ asks at the same time. 

I shake my head, holding up a bright yellow tag with a key attached. “I found this motel key.” 

🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌  🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 

I jump out of the boat as we reach the motel, tying the rope around a stump. “So, what’s the plan?” 

“You’ll see, bubba.” John B grabs my wrist and JJ’s arm, pulling us along. 

“Yeah, that doesn’t inspire confidence, dumbass.” I roll my eyes. “This place is a shitshow, doesn’t look like anywhere someone with a Grady-White stays.” 

“Motel or meth lab?” Kie mutters under her breath. 

“You be the judge,” Pope mutters back before giving me a pointed look. “Don’t let your boyfriend do anything stupid.” 

“I can’t make any promises.” I raise my hands in surrender as we walk off, going up the steps of the motel. 

John B leads us to the door, checking the number on the key as JJ knocks on the door. 

“Housekeeping!” JJ calls in a high pitched voice, waiting for an answer. 

“Should we try it?” John B asks, prompting nods from JJ and me.

We enter the room, closing the door behind us. I look around the room, handing John B a map from the bed. I move towards the bathroom, seeing John B messing with the safe out of the corner of my eye. I scan the walls of the dark and dirty room, shining my flashlight around

“You guys are gonna wanna see this.” He murmurs. 

JJ and I hurry over, looking in the safe. “Damn…” I whisper, looking at the stack of money, a gun laying on top of it.

JJ grins like a maniac, grabbing the gun from the safe. 

“JJ, put that down now!” I whisper-shout. 

“Just take a picture of me! Right here and then I’ll put it back!” 

“You want me to take a picture of you?” I raise an eyebrow, crossing my arms over my chest. “Make our own incriminating evidence?” I look up, hearing a tapping on the window. I hurry over, looking out to see Pope and Kie jumping up and down. 

“Cops!” Kie shouts quietly. 

“Shit, boys, time to go,” I whisper. “Cops.”

🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌  🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 

“Thanks for warning us so quickly.” I laugh, playfully shoving at Kie’s shoulder as we push off from the motel. 

“We would have warned you sooner except Pope was on the math team.” She rolls her eyes. 

“Did you guys find anything?” Pope asks. 

“No, I don’t think so.” JJ sighs before pulling out the gun and a stack of cash. “ Oh, yeah, we did.” 

“Are you serious?” Pope shouts in a high pitched voice. “I’m gonna lose my merit scholarship.” 

“At least you have us, right?” JJ grins. 

“I’m living the nightmare,” Pope whispers to himself. 

🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌  🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 

“It’s Scooter Grubbs. He was out during the storm. Check out this pic I got.”

“Dead body.”

“Insane.”

“Holy shit.” 

“What kind of boat did he have?”

“Somehow, that dirtbag copped a brand-new Grady-White. Everyone’s out looking for it.” 

The words seemed to hover around us as we drove back to the Chateau, following us as we collapsed into chairs on the porch. 

“Okay… so, um… we didn’t see anything.” John B takes off his hat, running a hand through his hair. “We don’t know anything.”

“We need to have total and complete amnesia.” Pope nods. 

“Actually, Pope is right for once.” JJ nods, slinging an arm around me as he slides into the seat next to me. “See, I agree with you sometimes. Deny, deny, deny.” 

“We can’t keep that money.” Kie paces up and down the porch. 

“Not all of us can afford unlimited data plans, Kiara.” JJ sighs. 

I lightly push at his chest, giving him a look. “We have to pass it off to Lana Grubbs.”

“Otherwise, it's bad karma.” Kie nods in agreement. 

“I don’t agree.” John B murmurs from the corner. “This is Scooter Grubbs we’re talking about. Same dude that’s buying individual cigarettes at the Porthole. Shit, one time I saw this dude begging for change in the Save-A-Lot parking lot because he needed gas. We’re talking about a dirtbag marina rat who’s never had more than 40 bucks in his pocket, and all of a sudden, he’s got a Grady-White? Just sayin’,” 

“We have to see what’s in the cargo hold of that wreck,” I speak up. “For now, we lay low and act normal.” 

“Kegger?” JJ grins. 

🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌  🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌

As JB always says; you can’t understand the Outer Banks without understanding the boneyard. It's kinda like a three-layer burrito. There’s us and our friends, the working class derelicts. Then, there are the Kooks, the rich second-homers. They’re mostly from poncey-ass boarding schools, just rich trustafarian posers. Our natural enemies. And then, there are the Tourons. Totally clueless. Here for a week on vacation with their families. Chum for the sharks. 

I smile, making my way across the sand with drinks for me and JJ, passing Pope along the way. 

“It's kinda weird when on TV, we see people die, and they kinda just sit there, but in actuality, they would be shitting and farting up a storm.”

I laugh, shaking my head as I walk past Pope and the fire. I make my way over to JJ’s usual spot; a fallen tree half-buried in the sand. I hand JJ his drink, sipping mine. “Poor Pope.” I snicker, glancing at the other boy over my cup. “He just can’t figure out how to talk to girls.” 

“Sarah! Sarah, be careful, okay?” 

I turn my attention towards the metal buoy stuck in the sand, recognizing Topper’s voice as he tries to coax Sarah down from the buoy. 

That’s Sarah Cameron. Kook princess. Kiara’s best friend in the ninth grade, worst enemy in the tenth grade. JB works on her dad’s boats and I was supposed to be helping her stepmom with gardening but have basically become a glorified babysitter for the princess. And that’s Topper. Her not so pleasant boyfriend. Just saying his name makes me want to vomit. He actually thinks Pogues were bred to mow lawns. 

I watch as Topper lifts Sarah down, starting to walk her up the beach and back towards his car. I barely see JJ move forward, extending a cup in her face. 

“Sarah, can I interest you in a tasty Milwaukee beverage?” JJ smirks, frowning when she declines. “Is it not fancy enough for you?” 

“I’ll take it.” Topper reaches for the cup, glaring as JJ pulls it away. 

“If you said pretty please, maybe.” JJ teases. 

Topper moves to grab the cup, knocking into JJ’s hand and spilling the drink all over Sarah. “Dirty Pogues!” Topper growls as Sarah pushes him back. 

John B moves in front of JJ as I pull him away. Topper lunges at John B, knocking him into the water. “ Don’t make me drown you like your old man, all right?” Topper shouts, holding John B down in the water. 

JJ rushes forward, pressing the gun to Topper’s head and clicking the safety off. 

“JJ!” I gasp.

“Yeah, you know what that is. Your move, broski.” JJ huffs as Topper raises his hands in surrender, standing up. 

“Check your psycho boyfriend, Y/N!” Sarah whines.

“Okay, everyone, listen up! Get the hell off our side of the island!” JJ fires the gun twice into the air, watching as the crowd scatters.

“So much for laying low!” Pope hisses at JJ, helping Kie pick John B from the water. 

🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌  🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 

The next morning, JB was up before the roosters started crowing. The rest of the Pogues had returned to their respective homes. Kie had taken Pope home before returning to her house in Figure 8. JJ had left a small kiss on the crown of my head before disappearing into the trees.

I wander out of my room, wiping sleep from my eyes. “You look like you just swallowed a jellyfish.” I bump shoulders with John B. 

“Sheriff Peterkin just left…” He mumbles. “She’s asking questions. She said she can help us with DCS if we help her.”  

“Well… we’ll just give her the most information we can without us getting in trouble.” I sigh. 

🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌  🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 

“The three of us! We’ve got nothing to lose!” JJ huffs, gesturing between me, John B, and himself. “You’re not calling this off, John B. I have a plan. We borrow some scuba gear from Cameron’s big boat and then we go down to the wreck.” 

We probably should’ve learned a long long time ago to never listen to JJ. He’s filled to the brim of bad ideas, like stealing from JB’s rich boss. 

Big John said the island was America on steroids. The haves and have-nots like anyplace, but magnified and multiplied. The way JB and I see it, the game’s rigged. Maybe it always has been. No parents, money, and no one looking out for us. We got no chance unless we make it on our own. 

🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌  🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌  

“You took empty tanks, JB.” I sigh. 

“This one’s a quarter full.” John B mumbles. 

“So enough for one of us… I just love it when a plan comes together.” I rub my head in annoyance. 

“Does anyone even know how to dive?” John B asks.

“I read about it,” Pope speaks up.

“Great, Pope read about it. So someone’s gonna die.” I roll my eyes.

“Look, you put the thing in your mouth and breathe. How hard could it be?” JJ asks.

“If you come up too fast, nitrogen gets into your blood, and you get the bends.” Pope leans back in the captain’s seat. 

“Bends like, bend over and…” JJ giggles, bending over the wheel.

“The bends kill you.” Pope sighs, making JJ’s eyes go wide.

🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌  🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 

We all circle around John B as he kneels on the dock, holding the bag from the wreck. 

“Can we please just open the bag?” Pope huffs. 

“Damn, Pope. That’s a rare outburst of emotion.” I snicker.

“You guys are literally killing me with anticipation. Open the bag.”

John B opens the bag, pulling out a canister. He twists open the canister, letting a small circular compass fall out. 

“Oh, wow. Yup. That’s about right.” Pope sighs. “Good job, everybody. We found a compass. It's not worth anything.” 

“This was my father’s.” John B mumbles. 

[marvelgiggles]

Show Off

(Avengers x starkdaughter!reader)

@imrelatedtothedragon​ here’s your prompt. I hope this is fluffy enough for you. 

@ilovefanfics2019​ I’ve already started you prompt and hope to finish it soon. 

"Okay everyone! Make sure you put sunscreen on the backs of your knees because trust me you do not want to get sunburnt there.” The surfing instructor, Zach, told you and the other Avengers. Your dad, Tony felt the stress of everyone on the team and decided to take everyone to one of your many secluded beach houses, and some of the Avengers wanted to try surfing. So here you were on the beach with Steve, Thor, Nat, Sam, Bucky, and Peter with the instructor Tony had hired. The others decided to stay back and take some time for themselves. 

You’ve been surfing before, but decided to join in on the fun. So you pretended that you had no idea how to surf before, asking stupid questions to Zack that you already knew that answer too, but wanted to continue looking dumb in front of the other Avengers. 

You watched the other Avengers struggle with the whole concept for awhile before you went to join them. You paddled out to where Zack was, he turned you around on your board.

“I’ll watch for a wave and push you toward the beach. Listen for my voice and then go ahead and try and stand up on the board.” Zack told you, suddenly your board was being pushed forward and you heard Zack yell. “Now!” You flawlessly got up on the board and coasted to the shore. You heard Peter cheer for you before you turned around to make your way back to the others. 

You turned around to see Sam wipe out again, he popped out of the water clearly frustrated. “I can fly with wings on my back but I can’t get up on this stupid board.” He complains as he hauls himself back up on the board.

You continued to 'improve’ on your surfing skills, eventually being able to pick out your own waves, while all of the Avengers were struggling but were slowly getting back. 

All of you have been surfing for hours and you were all exhausted, once you got back to the house you collapsed on the pool chairs outside. Some of them joined you, others went back into the house to shower the salt water off of them. Later on, you heard Steve, Sam and your dad walk out the poolside. 

“You should have seen her Tony. She was a natural on the board.” Steve said.

“Y/N?” Tony asked with surprise in his voice. He knew you’ve been surfing throughout your life and were pretty good, and you were hoping he wouldn’t spill that you’ve already been surfing. 

“Yeah man. Seriously I can’t believe that it was her first time surfing.” Sam stated.

“Well it’s not her first time. She’s been surfing since she was four.” 

“WHAT!” You heard Sam and Steve yell and immeadiately look in your direction. You gave them a sheepish smile and shrug of your shoulders. 

“Oh you are so going to pay.” Sam sauntered towards you. You quickly got up from your seat and ran into the house to longer avoid the punishment you were going to receive soon or later. You somehow kept managing to dodge both Steve and Sam but you sooner ran into Bucky. 

“Bucky move please!” You begged trying to get around him but he wouldn’t budge. 

“Why? Who are you running from?” Bucky asked with a smirk on his face.

“Buck! Grab her she cheated.” Sam yelled. You quickly tried to back up and run another direction but Bucky quickly grabbed you and held you close to his chest. He bent down and whispered in your ear. “You know running away only makes this worse Y/N.” His breath was tickling your ear so you couldn’t help but let out a giggle and squirm away from him. “What’s wrong Y/N? Does this tickle?” Bucky asked as he continued to blow lightly in your ear. Bucky was walking you out into the living room with you still squirming in his arms. You looked up and saw Steve and Sam waiting for you with evil grins on their faces.

Bucky proceeded to drop your on the floor immediately sitting on your waist so you couldn’t get away. Steve grabbed your arms and Sam sat on your legs behind Bucky.

“Well Y/N since you lied about being able to surf, I believe we should punish you for lying to make sure you don’t do it again.” Steve said in a typical righteous Captain America tone. He lightly started to trail his fingers down your arms and you started to giggle again at the maddening light ticklish feeling that it was causing. You also started to feel light fluttering against the soles of your feet and tried to kick your legs away but that was impossible due to Bucky and Sam sitting on your legs. 

“Sahaham. Steheheheve.” You giggled out.

“What? This is only fair. You watched us struggle so it’s only fair that we makes you struggle as well.” Sam said as he continued to torment your feet. Bucky suddenly started to poke around your stomach and ribs which caused a whole new level of laughter. 

“Uh oh. Is someone to ticklish to handle this?” Bucky teased you, knowing that would only make the whole situation worse for you. 

“Nohoho Buhuhucky!” You squealed as he continued to torment your ribs by vibrating his fingers in-between each and every one of them. Also since you were wearing a swimsuit and the all had direct skin contact made the entire situation worse. 

“Bucky? What about me?” Steve said as he switched his methods to vibrate his fingers on your upper ribs and armpits causing you to hysterically laugh. 

“Yeah, why are you only asking Bucky to stop.” Sam said as he began to scratch right beneath the ball of your foot which caused that deep belly laughter that all of the Avengers loved to hear.

The three of them continued to tease and torment you with tickles until Peter walked into the living and looking upon the scene in front of him. “What did she do now?” Peter asked like this was a normal occurrence which it was. All of the Avengers loved your laugh and how ticklish you were so this was more common than you would have liked it to be. 

“Well little Y/N already knows how to surf, so that’s why she never wiped out.” Steve informed Peter.

“Well, if you really want to make her laugh. You aren’t attacking the right spot.” Your stomach plummeted to the floor. Peter was your best friend so you two had many tickle fights throughout your years of friendship and Peter accidentally discovered a ticklish spot that you never had but was easily your worst spot. 

“Well spiderling. Where would this spot be exactly?” Sam eagerly asked so he could know for next time. 

“Here let me show you.” Peter motioned for Sam to get off of you so he could take his place, Bucky proceeded to get off of your waist, but Steve continued to hold your arms up so you couldn’t block Peter’s attack. 

“Please Peter.” You looked at him with a kicked puppy look to hopefully grant you some mercy.

“Sorry Y/N, you need to learn not to lie to the Avengers.” Peter said as he started to squeeze right above your knees. You let out an inhuman like scream before desperately trying to kick your legs away from Peter’s grasp but due to his spider strength he wasn’t going anywhere so your legs were stuck in place. After awhile Peter stopped to let you catch your breath but you knew that he wasn’t finished because that wasn’t the spot he was going to for. “So Y/N are you going to apologize for lying to us?” Peter asked as he moved his fingers to the spot that no one else knew about, yet.

When you didn’t answer when Peter wanted you too, you felt his fingers lightly fluttering behind your knees and you didn’t even have time to laugh as you quickly were silently laughing and to exhausted to move, so you didn’t have any other choice but just to endure the horrific feeling of tickles on the back of your knees. Since Steve was only holding just below your wrists you had full use of your wrists and hands, so you started rapidly hitting Steve’s arm with your hand. 

“Pete, she’s tapping out.” Steve said with a smirk. Peter immediately stopped and let you catch your breath. 

“I’m sorry.” You said with giggles leaking out of your mouth still. Steve let your arms go and you sat up to push Peter off of your legs. You quickly got up and went go sit out by the pool to avoid anymore tickles at the moment. But knowing the Avengers they would find another way to torment you with tickles during this get away. 

[imaginepirates]

Prisoner pt. 2

A sequel to Prisoner! Now, it's the reader's turn to take care of poor Norrington. Will they stay together, or will they continue on separately in the worlds they've always known?

@bonjour-frens @tesserphantom @ilikebritsandbands @viper-official @wordsinwinters

~3350 words

~~~~~~~

           The shipwreck was atrocious. Your place in the search-and-rescue dinghy didn't give you a flattering sight. Bloated bodies floated face down in the water, and sometimes, you came upon severed limbs. Blue fingers and purple lips adorned the poor boys who still floated above the surface. The rest had drowned, or were laying on bits of floating wood. 

           The ship itself was torn to bits. The rocks had done their damage; the hull had completely split open. The masts had been drawn under by their waterlogged sails. Wreckage was only being kept up by the rocks, and barrels floated aimlessly through the water. The rest had sunk beneath the waves. 

           Your goal was, admittedly, more of a find-and-capture one than a search-and-rescue one. The sunken ship in question was a naval ship that had crashed during a nasty storm. You were surprised that there were any survivors at all, but a few men had been taken back to your ship. Those who agreed to work for you were allowed to, and those who weren't were returned to the sea. 

           You paddled past endless debris. You couldn't help but think of the terror the sailors had experienced in their final moments. Absently, you let one hand drift in the water. 

           You turned to look ahead, and noticed a body floating on a wooden plank at the same time as some of your companions. Your group pulled alongside it, studying the man. He was horribly sunburnt, all chapped lips and red skin. He lay so limply you might've mistaken him for dead, but a raspy wheeze was coming from his mouth. 

           The worst thing about it was that he was familiar. 

           "Leave him," said one of your shipmates. "He'll die anyway."

           There was a general agreement from everyone, but you couldn't tear your eyes from him. "We can't," you whispered. 

           "What do you mean ‘we can't’? There's nothing that can be done for him, let's move on."

           "I mean I can't leave him here, because he's the one that saved me."

           A silence fell over your group. Everyone stared at the man on the board. 

           "You're sure?" Your companion asked. 

           "Yes."

           "Let's haul him in, then." 

           You worked quietly, helping to lift his body from the board and into your dinghy. You knew the chances of his survival were low. He'd gone too long in the sun without any water. At least the other men you'd rescued had moved. Still, you felt compelled to give him a proper burial at sea, if it came to that. 

           Norrington. The name rolled around in your head like a sailboat on rough seas. It had only been a few months since your escape, but it felt like a lifetime. Now, seeing your savior again, it was all brought back to you. 

           You'd avoided thinking about it. The memories were painful and emotional, and you hated to think of how close you'd come to dying. Sometimes, you imagined what it was like for Norrington to say he'd taken you to bed. How much shame had he felt? You could see him standing red-faced before his superiors, telling them about some fictional liaison. You hoped it hadn't gotten him into any trouble. 

           You were brought back to the present as your fellows helped pull Norrington's body onto your ship. He was taken to the ship's surgeon, and you followed. A crewmember laid their hand lightly on your shoulder. 

           "I'll explain to the captain if you want to stay here."

           You thanked them softly and sat beside the cot on which they'd put his body. Absently, you picked up one of his hands and weighed it in your own. It was calloused and rough, but it fit nicely in yours.

           The surgeon had you help care for Norrington. Firstly, and most embarrassingly, you had to strip him of his wet clothes. He'd already developed a fever, but letting it get worse would surely kill him. You eased him out of his coat and shirt, but turned away when the surgeon undid his trousers. After a blanket was placed over him, you rotated between putting cold compresses on his forehead and playing with his fingers. By nightfall, you were dreary, and reluctantly returned to your bed. 

           Nothing was said when you went back the next day. Some of the other naval men were allowed to visit Norrington too, if only to see him before he died. You sat hour after hour by his side, desperately hoping for some sign of recovery. 

           You were preparing to leave for bed again when he stirred. It was only a slight movement, but enough to let you know he was awake. His hand and face twitched, and his breathing became irregular. His eyes didn't open, but his brows were pulled down in pain. You laid a gentle hand on his cheek, just to let him know you were there. 

           "Water," he rasped. The word barely left his mouth. 

           You brought him a small cup of water, resting it against his lips and tilting it slowly over his mouth. Most of it ran down his lips, and the rest he spluttered and coughed back out of his mouth. You lifted him to put a few pillows under his head and tried again, this time with more success. You kept at it until he seemed a bit more within his wits. 

           You tried fetching the surgeon, but he said there was still little that could be done. With that in mind, you sat next to Norrington to keep him company, letting your hand fall into his. He seemed to notice, because he squeezed your hand. 

           Placing a wet cloth on his face, you began cleaning the area around his eyes. It was crusted over, his eyes having been closed for so long. You were careful to be slow and tender. Even there, the skin was red and puffy. 

           He opened his eyes a few minutes later. At first, they focused on nothing, but they came to rest on your face. Confusion flashed across his features. "Who?" He whispered. 

           "Don't worry about that now. Just rest." You could've cried from relief. Norrington seemed somewhat coherent, which was a good sign that he might survive the coming days. You'd often thought of being able to thank him properly for saving you. If he made it, you could. 

           You rubbed your thumb over his knuckles until he fell back asleep, and you beside him. 

           It was still dark when you woke. Norrington was restless beside you. He squirmed in his cot, moving as much as his body would allow. You were laying on the floor, resting your head on your arm, but you got up when he started to move. 

           He drifted in and out of consciousness, sometimes staring at you. All you could do was to keep a wet cloth on his head and some water at hand in case he needed it. 

           The next days were much the same. You took care of him, but it consisted mostly of sitting near him and keeping to yourself. About five days in, his fever broke. You were getting something to eat, and when you returned, he was staring at the ceiling. 

           The surgeon was there, trying to explain the situation. Norrington didn't meet the surgeon's eyes, and you could only imagine the grief he was going through. He'd lost most of his men, and he was now being cared for by the very people he hated. 

           You walked farther into the room, and he turned his head. Recognition spread across his face. He tried to push himself into a sitting position, but only succeeded in making himself collapse coughing. 

           You took a seat next to him.  "Captain," you said, unsure of how to greet him. 

           "Y/N," he whispered. His voice was strained with sickness, but he was undeniably better.

           "I was afraid you wouldn't recover. You looked awful when we first brought you in."

           He smiled weakly. "I'm glad to see you with your crew."

           "I'm glad to be here." You took one of his hands. "Thank you." You hadn't had the chance to properly thank him for what he'd done. "I can't imagine what it might've done to your reputation."

           "Not much, really. It was well worth the risk."

           You felt your eyes welling up with tears. The surgeon left you to be alone with him, and you held his hand tightly in your own. "Are you alright?" You asked softly. "I know the news had to come as a blow."

           He turned his head away. "I was fond of my crew. To know most of them are gone…" he trailed off. 

           You laid a gentle hand on his cheek, and he leaned into the touch. "I'm sorry."

           "So am I."

           You sat in silence, and you took the opportunity to open a jar of balm that you had to put on his sunburns every day. Carefully, you applied the cream to his skin. There were burns on his face, hands, and chest. They were getting better; the swelling had gone down, and the redness was slowly fading. The blistering was nearly all gone. 

           Lost in thought, you hadn't caught his staring at you. His eyes rested on your face, which might have made you blush had you not felt so badly for him. The situation was a bit sobering. 

           You finished and wiped your hands on your pants. 

           "Have you been taking care of me this whole time?" He asked. 

           "Yes."

           He grabbed your hand again, sighing. "Does your crew know?"

           You didn't have to ask about what. "Most of them know the full story, yes."

           Norrington looked uncomfortable. 

           "They don't think poorly of you," you assured him. "They understand why I've been caring for you."

           He nodded, but his eyes were still drawn down in worry. "I'm still an officer to them. God knows how many of their friends and family I've seen hanged." He buried his head in his hands. "I've been responsible for too much death," he mumbled.

           "They can be forgiving."

           "I wouldn't be, if I were them." He groaned. "Here I am, being cared for by the enemy. It changes a man's perspective. It was so easy to do my job until…"

           "Until what?"

           "Until you." He looked at you again, eyes boring into yours before they dropped to look at the space between you. "You made me look at things differently. I sorely wish you hadn't."

           "I'm glad I did. If not, I don't think I'd be alive. I didn't mean to make things so hard for you, but I'm glad, too. It means you understand the good and the bad in your occupation."

           "Do you understand it in yours?"

           "Of course. We have to make a conscious decision every day, that we're doing more good than evil. It's hard, isn't it?"

           "Yes."

           You talked until the sun sank beyond the horizon. It felt wrong to sleep in the room, now that he was better, but part of you wanted to stay, just in case. 

           As if reading your mind, he said, "It's time we slept, I think." 

           Neither of you made a move to do so. "Will you be able to sleep? With all the worries in your head?"

           "I doubt it."

           "Do you want me to stay?" You asked tentatively. 

           You could tell Norrington was fighting with himself over the answer. "Yes," he admitted. He moved over on the cot as much as he was able, and you slid in with him. Tucked beside him, one of his arms around you, you both managed to drift off. 

           It was late when you woke. It took a moment for your exhausted body to realize it was tangled in Norrington's. Your head was on his chest, your legs were tangled together, and his arms were wrapped around you. His fingers rested in the strands of your hair. You were sure to wake him the moment you moved. Keeping still, you found yourself enjoying being so close to him. 

           Only when you felt him petting your hair did you realize that he was awake. “Sleep well?” You mumbled. 

           He yawned. “Yes. And you?”

           “Better than I’ve slept in a long time,” you admitted. Fighting your desire to stay abed with him, you pushed yourself up so you could look at him. “We should get you propped up. Maybe today we can help you stand and walk around some.”

           “I could do with a good stretch.”

           You helped him sit up, stacking pillows and blankets behind him to prop him up. Then, you sat on the bed behind him, pulling out a hairbrush. You teased the knots out of his long hair. It was longer now- barely, but you noticed. 

           “Just like old times,” said James. 

           You couldn’t help but smile. You still barely knew each other, but there was a strong connection between you. You’d been through impactful events together, helping each other. You’d each saved the other’s life. “What were we talking about that day?” You knew the answer, but asked anyway. 

           “Our mothers. Mine would have liked you, I think.”

           There was no mirror in which to see his face this time, so you had to guess at his expression. “Mine would have liked you, too.” 

           “Even though I’m the enemy?”

           “Yes. But what would your mother think of a pirate?”

           “She’d want to hear all about your great adventures.”

           There was a moment of silence. “You’ll want to see her again, I suppose. Go back home to your life once you’ve healed.”

           “Of course I want that.” Norrington didn’t sound convincing.

           You didn’t want to talk about it. Instead, you asked him for his given name. “You know mine,” you said. “It’s only fair that I know yours.”

           “James.”

           “Well, James, now that I’m done brushing your hair, let’s get you dressed. I’m sure I can find a new shirt for you somewhere.” You left for a moment, trying to collect yourself while simultaneously getting a shirt. It hadn’t occurred to you before that he’d leave again. You pushed the thought away, unwilling to let it take hold of you.

           When you returned, you helped slip the shirt over James’ head. He managed to sit on the edge of the bed with his feet resting on the floor. The surgeon had dressed him in beige trousers earlier, so all you had to worry about was buttoning up the front of his shirt. His breath skipped a little each time your fingers brushed his chest, and a light flush fell across both your faces. 

           Getting him out of bed was a harder process. James had grown weak in sickness, and it took all his strength just to stand. Once that was accomplished, you helped him walk to the side of the room where he could use the walls and doorframe for support. “Do you think you can go up stairs?” You asked. You were concerned that he couldn’t make it on deck. 

           “I can try.”

           “I don’t think I could catch you if you fell.”

           He snorted. “Probably not. I’m much larger than you are, after all.”

           Despite your concerns, James got down the hallway and up the stairs with little trouble. It was slow going, and he stumbled a few times, but you righted him with a hand on his chest. In the open air, it took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the morning sun. You led him to the railing and looked out over the sea. James stared out with sad eyes. Tired eyes, like they’ve always been. Still, he looks even more tired now than when I knew him last.

           “We’ll stop in Tortuga soon. We’ll let you and your remaining crew off there, I think.” You didn’t know why you were telling him. Perhaps you were trying to warn him that there was little time left for the two of you together. Maybe you were begging him to stay. “You can arrange passage from there to home.”

           “Home.” He gave you a sad smile. “There are people I have to go back to. People who want to know I’m safe. People I want to see again. Home is really just people, isn’t it?”

           “I think so, yes. Would you go back, if they weren’t there? Would you go back to your job?”

           “I owe it to my country.”

           “You could just as easily slip away, pretend to have died in the storm.”

           He sighed. “And what would happen if I ran into somebody I knew during a fight, or a raid? What then?” He reached out with a hand to cup your face. “You know I can’t stay. You have to let me go.” You could tell that he was trying to convince himself, too. That he had to let you go.

           “Will I ever see you again, do you think?”

           “If you do, we’ll be on opposite sides.”

           “After that. After sides. Will I see you then?”

           “After sides,” he mused. “The likelihood that either of us retire is slim.” There were unspoken words there. One of us is bound to die before then. “Though I can only hope.”

           “How will I find you?” 

           “I’m not certain you will. It’s a long wait.”

           “It’ll be worth it, to see you again.”

           He held your hand, saying nothing more, looking off into the morning sun. Everyone on deck could see you, but you didn’t care. Not really. Once James was gone, he was gone, and you weren’t likely to see him again. No matter how hard you tried to convince yourself, you knew you wouldn’t find him. You might as well spend time close to him while you could. 

           “Promise me this,” he squeezed your hand, still staring into the distance, “if you do find me, don’t leave.”

           You laid your head on his shoulder. “I promise.”

                                                               ~~~~~

           The English coast was a bleak strip of shoreline bombarded by dark waters. A chill sat heavy in the air, and you pulled your coat tighter to you. You could hardly keep your eyes off the compass in front of you. The unwavering point directed you forward.

           It had been hard to find him, after all the years. It had taken more than a few pulled strings. Bits of gossip overheard in London, contradictory stories from his old crew members, and a bit of magic had gotten you to the colorless coastline ahead. The compass you’d stolen off another pirate, and you’d had to steal dresses to fit in with Londoners. Finding people he’d known was the hardest part; you only knew the few members of his crew that had left with him off your ship. 

           Once ashore, you nearly took to running. There were few houses so close to the cliffs of Dover, but some sat nestled in the rolling fields. The compass pointed you down a dirt road which you followed until you were out of sight of any houses. You could vaguely see the outline of another building through the mists. 

           It was a quaint sort of house, away from everything. It overlooked the ocean and was surrounded by wheat fields. Just the sort of place in which to hide. James wasn’t one for big cities, you guessed. He wanted to live peacefully, away from a world where his name was known to nearly everyone. You were surprised he wasn’t married with children, but life had a way of doing that- surprising you. 

           Nobody answered the door when you knocked, and you were afraid he wasn’t really there. But after a few moments, the door swung open. 

           His hair was short and graying, and he looked considerably older, but it was undeniably him. His eyes hadn’t changed. Ever tired, ever sad, and ever beautiful. You didn’t waste a moment, slipping right into his arms. 

           “You found me.” His voice was full to bursting with emotions, and you wouldn’t be surprised if a few tears had found their way down his cheeks. 

           “I told you I would.”

           “Will you stay?”

           “Didn’t I promise?”

[cheemerthelizard]

Crusader of Life (Kakyoin x Reader) Chapter 4

Okay so I’m gonna start putting a small summary of what’s going to happen in the chapters here instead of just rambling about random stuff. Probably.

The last couple of hours had been absolutely insane. After the plane had crashed into the ocean, and most people made it out alive, you ended up in Hong Kong, where yet another Stand user sent by Dio, named Polnareff, was ready to kill your group off. Just like Kakyoin, he had a flesh bud, and once you got rid of that, he also joined your group. Now, you were on a boat, on your way to Singapore.

Since there wasn’t much else to do, and nobody really needed you at the moment, you just let your thoughts wander. Thinking about nothing and everything, life, the universe, whatever you wanted to think about. It was nice having a time where you didn’t have to worry about a Stand user. Since Joseph was a good friend of the Speedwagon Foundation, they let you borrow a boat, which only had trusted employees on it. Eventually, you got bored of just sitting and thinking random thoughts of nothingness, and decided to use Ace of Pentacles. Making copies of living things was always a good pastime. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much living on this ship, other than the crew and your little group. Still, whatever you could find, you would duplicate. You summoned Ace, and looked for small bugs, rats, or some rotten food. Sadly, you came up with nothing.

“Well, Ace, what do you want to do?” you asked, and she answered by gazing at Kakyoin.

“Oh, come on, you know that’s a last resort thing,” you answered. “What if someone catches you looking at him? What if he catches you looking at him?” Still, Ace’s eyes didn’t break from Kakyoin’s face.

“Fine,” you mumbled, “but I’m going to be doing the sightseeing, got it?” Ace nodded, and disappeared. Honestly, out of all the things you could be doing, you felt like this was the one that would kill the most time. You could study that face for hours. His hair, so neat and red. His eyes, and their beautiful lavender color. His jawline, so sharp and strong. Just looking at him made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, and you couldn’t help but feel a smile creeping up on your face.

“What’cha lookin’ at?” Polnareff asked, and you jumped a bit.

“O-oh! Just looking at the waves,” you replied. Yes. Good cover.

“Hmm,” Polnareff said, scratching an imaginary beard. “Well, we’re right next to the side of the boat, and you seem to be looking in the opposite direction.”

“Wh-what?” you asked. Uh oh. He was onto you.

“In fact, I’d say that your eyes were following a certain teammate of ours. One with a green school uniform on.” Polnareff got a smug little smile stuck on his face. “In fact, if I didn’t know any better, it seems that you were looking like you were in-“

“Please don’t tell anyone,” you begged, burying your face in your hands. “Yes, I’m in love. Please don’t tell Kakyoin. Avdol already knows, too.” You were blushing so hard, you were sure it was noticeable, even with your face covered up. Then, you felt an arm around your shoulder.

“Don’t you worry,” Polnareff laughed, “your secret’s safe with me.”

“Thank you,” you breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you so much.”

“Hey! Let me go!” You and Polnareff heard an unfamiliar voice from the other side of the deck. It wasn’t an adult’s voice, so it couldn’t have been any of the crew members. Both of you ran across to see what all the commotion was about, and found a little boy, probably about 10 years old, being held by his arms.

“I thought there was only the crew on this ship,” Joseph said. “Why is this boy here?”

“He’s a stowaway,” the crew member replied. “He got on before we left for Singapore.”

“A stowaway, huh?”

“Hey! I said to let me go!” the boy snapped.

“Oh, I’m not letting you go,” the crew member laughed a little. “I’m gonna have to turn you into the navy police!”

The boy gasped. “N-navy?” He stepped back a little. “No! Please! I’m just going to visit my dad in Singapore. Please, I’ll do anything! I’ll make myself useful around here, I promise.”

“Hmmmm,” the crew member was having a fun time messing with the kid. “Nah. I think I’ll just turn you in,” he decided, and his words brought despair to the boy’s face. That look lasted a while, but as soon as the crew member had his back turned, the boy chomped on his arm, and dived out from the boat, into the sea. While the rest of the people on the boat looked to see the kid, Jotaro seemed unfazed.

“He probably jumped in because he’s a confident swimmer,” he said. “Just let him go.” Geez. Now you remembered why everyone at school called him cold.

“No, this is very bad!” The crew member started panicking. “These waters are shark-infested!”

Then, like a boy who had caught on to the game his friend was playing, a shark came through, and it looked ready to chomp up the kid in the water. It was almost too late when he noticed it.

“Good grief,” Jotaro sighed. He summoned Star Platinum, and headed out into the sea. It was probably very strange to the boy, seeing a shark just get punched out by some unknown force, but you were sure he’d be grateful nonetheless. Once the shark was no longer a problem, Jotaro grabbed the boy’s shirt and pulled him back to the boat. However, before he got back, he stopped, and pressed on the boy’s chest again. You couldn’t hear from the boat, but you could tell Jotaro was surprised about something. Then again, so were you, as soon as Jotaro took the hat off of the boy, to reveal long strands of wavy hair. Turns out the boy wasn’t a boy at all: he was actually a she.

Despite not being able to hear that far away, you could definitely tell that the girl was yelling at Jotaro, probably for touching her chest like that. Honestly, if someone touched you like that, you’d probably go off on them, too.

As Jotaro was swimming with the girl back to the boat, you saw another creature in the water. This one, however, didn’t look like a shark. In fact, it didn’t resemble anything you had seen before. There was only one conclusion: an enemy Stand.

“Jotaro!” you cried. “Enemy Stand! In the water! Get out! Now!”

Either Jotaro had heard you, or he noticed the Stand, but either way, he started paddling faster and faster, making sure the girl was in front of him. It was almost too late, but he was just in Hierophant’s range to be pulled out of the water in the nick of time, as the life raft was torn to shreds by the monster in the water.

Once Jotaro and the girl were safe, all of you were thinking the same thing: is this stowaway really a follower of Dio?

“There’s no way she could be the Stand user,” you whispered. “I mean, we had to go save her from the shark.”

“That could’ve been bait,” Polnareff whispered back.

The girl turned to your group. “Why are you glaring at me, huh? You wanna fight?” She pulled out a knife. “I can fight! One on one! Let’s go!”

“She really doesn’t look the part,” Joseph murmured.

“Anyone can obtain a Stand, even children,” Avdol spoke softly.

“Hey! I asked you a question!” That girl was very persistent. “My knife is telling me it wants the blood of it’s 340th victim.”

Kakyoin chuckled a little bit.

“What is it, punk?” She glared at him. “What’s so funny?”

“Punk?” Kakyoin laughed. “You know, I really don’t think she’s the user.”

“But if she isn’t, than who is?” That was the question everyone had on their minds.

“Ah, so here’s our little stowaway,” the captain walked onto the deck. “Hm. A little small, if you ask me. Well, I can’t take it easy on you, even if you’re a girl. If we take it easy, we’ll just get more and more stowaways.” He started twisting the girl’s arm.

“I’ve figured out who the Stand user is,” Jotaro said. “It’s the captain!”

“And how do you know, Jotaro?” Avdol asked. “If you just make random accusations, things will get more confusing.”

“Stand?” The captain scratched his head. “What’s that?”

“I know,” Jotaro replied, “because any Stand user who inhales even a little bit of cigarette smoke will have a vain pop up on their nose!”

At this, everyone, including the captain, checked their noses. You didn’t see anything on your nose. “You can’t be serious, Jotaro,” you said.

“Nope,” he shrugged, “I was lying. But looks like we found the idiot.”

Suddenly, the captain laughed. “Fine. You got me. I’m not the real captain. He’s already at the bottom of the ocean, sleeping with the fishes. I was going to pick you off, one by one, but I guess I’ll have to use plan B.” Without warning, he grabbed the girl, and held onto her with his Stand. “I might not be able to take on all five of you on land, but if I drag a hostage into the water with me, then I’ll have the upper hand.” He jumped off the deck, but before he reached the water, Jotaro had already gotten the girl out of the captain’s grasp, safe and sound, as well as made sure that he wasn’t coming back to shore anytime soon.

“Yeah, Jotaro!” you cheered. “Great job!”

“He sure talked up his powers,” Polnareff laughed.

“Hey, Jotaro,” Joseph said, “why aren’t you bringing the girl in?”

“I’m trying,” Jotaro’s voice sounded clenched as he bent over the railing, “but I can’t. I can’t even bring Star Platinum back.” Suddenly, he fell off, as if he was magnetized to the sea. Before he fell in, though, he threw the girl up, and Hierophant caught her. Then, before you knew it, Jotaro had fallen to the bottom of the sea.

Every last one of the people on board, including the crew members and the girl, were anxiously holding their breath, praying to whatever god they believed in that Jotaro would make it out alive. One minute. Two minutes. Three. He still wasn’t up. Maybe you should have duplicated him, before it was too late. Then again, those acorn barnacles stuck to him were technically a status condition, even if it was the work of a Stand, so it wouldn’t have made a difference. Of course, as you thought of something you could have done ahead of time that would prevent this horrible disaster, things just had to get worse. A whirlpool. The fake captain had created a whirlpool, and Jotaro was trapped in it. Kakyoin tried fishing him out of there, but the Stand’s scales were everywhere in there. It was impossible to get Jotaro out of there. Anxiety flew through you, and each second felt ten times as long. Then, out of the blue, you saw your friend pop up for just a second.

“I saw Jotaro!” Kakyoin cried. “He was completely limp!”

“Completely limp, you say?” Joseph asked. “This might be a good thing.”

“Forgive my rudeness, Mr. Joestar,” you said, “but how in the world could this be a good thing?! He’s limp! He might already be dead!”

“Well, us Joestars have a way of getting out of tricky situations like these,” Joseph replied. “And I think Jotaro has figured out how.”

“Oh, I hope you’re right, Mr. Joestar,” you muttered. “I really, truly, hope you’re right.”

Conveniently, once you got done with your tiny monolouge, the whirlpool had ended, and Jotaro had finally surfaced again.

“That’s my grandson for you!” Joseph laughed. “See, (Y/N)? Nothing to worry about. Now, come back up, and-“

Joseph didn’t get to finish what he was going to say, because an explosion happened somewhere on the boat. Then another one. And another one.

“Quickly! To the life boats!” Joseph cried, and nobody wasted any time doing what he said. You jumped from the deck just as an explosion happened behind you, pushing you right into the life boat. You landed with a faceplant, and heard an, “Ow!” from a familiar voice. That’s when you realized you had landed right on Kakyoin’s legs, very hard.

“Oh, Kakyoin! I’m so sorry!” You kept apologizing, and asking to pay him back somehow.

“I’m telling you, (Y/N), I’m fine,” Kakyoin laughed a little bit. “My legs will be fine.”

You thanked him for understanding, then looked for a place to sit on the life boat. Turns out, the only seat was right next to Kakyoin. Dang it. That girl, who’s name was Anne, had taken the only seat away from him. Avdol and Polnareff gave you smug smiles, and you made a hand slashing motion near your neck, telling them to cut it out, then pointing at Kakyoin, signifying he was right there. Both of them looked away, still smiling.

Great. Just what you needed on this trip. A tiny crush, and two guys who knew about it.