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mechaknight-98 · 2 months

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Outrage (NSFW) FT Nayoung (Lightsum)

Author’s Notes: this piece came about in a kind of silly way. It arose as a challenge from another writer I know. He’s seen my stuff and finds it really interesting, but there’s some repetitiveness to the content so as a challenge he said write a mature story without smut, and loads of cursing. So this came about. Now granted it still probably has some bad habits of mine but it is thematically different and heavier emotionally. Note you have been warned

The young man walked up to the sound stage for the talk show he would be performing at. It was the last of many mini promotions he’d been asked to do since his side project “Kraken” took off. He was tired but excited. He hoped that this would lead to his main project “The Flying Dutchman” finally getting the traction it deserves. He flashed his ID to the guard when the guard gave him a funny look the young man replied.

“It should be under Kraken,” the guard smiled and let him in while saying, “You know that song goes hard. I love all of the little wordplays you do, and your voice modulation how did you make some of those sounds?”

The young man smiled “Oh studio magic I guess”

“Well, Mr Jones or should I say Kraken have a good time on the Late Show.” The guard said

Mr. Jones smiled and said, “I’ll try” After getting through the guard Mr jones bumped into his label representative Michael Hale. Well, bumped is the incorrect word. Mr Jones stood confused for a large portion of time as he tried to see where to go for the interview. The hustle and bustle of the stage made it hard to know where to go.

“Ah, Davy or I guess I should call you Kraken good to see you made it. Oh and don’t you look sharp” He said

Davy Jones nodded and said, “Last show, I had to show off for my hometown”

“Well great because you’re on first thing. It’s a simple song “Buy it Back”. Answer a few questions then you’re home free. Mike said

Kraken nodded and walked into his marked place.

“after performing his viral hit Kraken walked over to the talk show host for an interview”

“So that "buy it back" huh? It’s a great song with the cool edge to it that makes it feel like getting into a cold beach on a hot day.” Kraken chuckled as he nodded.

“I guess that’s true, but yeah I wrote it a few weeks ago, and no one I reached out to performed it correctly so I just recorded it and did it,” Kraken said nonchalantly. The host nodded attentive but also a little manic. Kraken was uncomfortable with the host's jerky and spastic motions but kept to himself enough so it wasn’t a major issue. He meandered through the interview with an assertive calm that the interviewer felt.

“Next question, why Kraken it’s such a weird name?”

“It’s a Pirates of the Caribbean joke. In it, Davy Jones has two things he leads. The Kraken and the Flying Dutchman. The Flying Dutchman is a team-led thing and my main band is called The Flying Dutchman so when I wanted to do something solo I came up with “Kraken” because Davy Jones controls that alone, and for this side project it’s just me.” Kraken explained

“Okay next question: not since Dazzler’s last mega-hit Sparkle Sparkle has a mutant artist been in the top 100 charts you are also the first openly mutant male artist to make it in. How does that feel?”

Kraken thought about his answer as he looked into the crowd he thought about all the people watching at home and how I used to be like them.

“When I was about 15 or so a lot of bands I loved were hitting their stride; The Devil Wears Prada, Miss May I, Silent Planet, and Like Moths to Flame just to name a few. Their music helped me get through some of the rougher times growing up. Now that I’m older I feel responsible for being that for the next generation so in all my music endeavors like this one or The Flying Dutchman, I try to keep my music accessible and impactful. Me being a mutant is just who I am and hopefully not what makes me special” The interviewer nodded at Kraken’s question with an insincere smile and laughter.

“That’s such a great answer. Now how has being a mutant affected you? I have heard some of the songs of Flying Dutchman a lot of them seem to have a very hostile edge to them.”

Kraken considers his words carefully before saying, “I write from a place of contemplation a lot of the time and when you have a marginalized existence it’s hard kinda not to sound angry at times. Like when I was writing Spirit Ripper both of my sisters had just been attacked by members of the LGBTQ community for confronting them over their bad behavior. The members cited that my sisters were perpetuating harmful language and that it was self-defense to break my younger sister's arm who by the way is a very well-known political activist who supports LGBTQ rights and equality and for my oldest sister a white Lesbain woman threw a brick at her head even though my sister is a lesbian herself.”

The interviewer paused hearing that as he reconciled that he figured he’d lighten the tone by asking,

“So you’ve had it the easiest then.”

Kraken chuckled as he said, “Nope! I had to transfer colleges because I was falsely accused of sexual assault by my first college crush, which led to me developing an intense fear of intimacy with anyone but also led to this massive investigation that revealed that the girl’s boyfriend was abusing her and that this was the only way she could express some control over her life.”

Kraken looked at the room as the silence and shock was palpable. Realizing that this was getting dark fast the interviewer changed subjects.

“Okay, so last question who is Nayoung? You mention her three times and wrap up some of the song’s best punchlines using her name?”

Not expecting that last question but one about his mutant heritage and why was the song called Buy It Back so it took him a second to process the question.

“Oh um, Nayoung is a K-pop singer I find cute. She is in a group called Lights. Her name is easy to couch alliteration and rhyming couplets on so I did that a couple of times.

The interviewer smiled falsely now having control of the interview again and said,

“Well, we will have to check them out. While we happily await your next song see you later Kraken.” Kraken smiled got up and waved. When the cameras stopped rolling the interviewer’s face dropped from a smile into a frown.

“I hoped you enjoyed your 15 minutes of fame Mutie.”

Kraken smiled and said, “Of course, I try to never take anything for granted.”

As the interview across the world, Nayoung sat cross-legged on the couch, a bowl of popcorn in her lap, eyes glued to the television. Her group members were scattered around the living room, some scrolling through their phones, others half-watching the interview playing out on the screen.

“Hey, isn’t that the guy from The Flying Dutchman?” Chowon asked, looking up.

“Yeah, Davy Jones! I love his music,” Nayoung replied, her voice tinged with enthusiasm. She had been following his work ever since she first heard his powerful lyrics and unique sound. His music had helped her through some challenging times, and she admired his courage in being unapologetically himself.

As the interview progressed, Nayoung listened intently, nodding along to Kraken’s thoughtful responses. Then, the interviewer asked about the name that popped up in his songs: Nayoung. Her eyes widened, and she leaned forward, nearly spilling her popcorn.

“Oh my gosh, did he just say my name?” she exclaimed, her voice rising with excitement. The other members turned their attention to the screen, now curious.

Kraken’s explanation was casual yet sincere, and Nayoung felt a rush of warmth spread through her. “He thinks I’m cute!” she said, unable to hide her grin. “And he uses my name for rhymes. How cool is that?”

Her group members laughed and teased her, but Nayoung was too thrilled to care. To hear her name coming from someone she admired so much was a surreal experience.

As the interview wrapped up, she clapped her hands together. “I can’t believe it. I’ve got to send him a message or something. Maybe we can work together one day!”

The idea filled her with inspiration, and as she daydreamed about potential collaborations, her excitement was infectious, spreading to the rest of the room.

When she went to Cube the next day she was the talk of trainees, other groups, and management.

During practice one of the producers came in and asked for her. Her members teased her as she walked out. The producer and Nayoung paid them no mind.

“I take it you saw Kraken’s interview?” The producer asked. Nayoung’s pupils dilated to the eyes of saucers.

“You convinced Davy Jones to do a collab with us?” Nayoung asked her sparkling with joy.

“Um no but the higher-ups and I were wondering if you can convince him to work with us?”

Nayoung smiled and then realized that it probably meant he wouldn’t be Davy Jones but Kraken. She nodded and said, “I’ll help where I can.”

Davy Jones and the rest of “The Flying Dutchman” were working on their parts for the next album. AJ was focused on getting down some of the more intricate baselines that made this song Their most technically impressive one yet. Jojo was on drums trying different beats and fills to better match the rest of the song, while Douglas and Noah fought about everything as always. Davy Jones or as his friends called him JD was writing. As he always was. After about 15 minutes of tuning arguing and preparing JD got up from his notebook and they started working on new stuff.

“The Sky Breaks free while you Break me,” AJ (the clean vocalist) sang out as the kept working on the chorus. Despite AJ’s technical skills as a vocalist JD often found himself not liking the way he sounded on this specific Chorus. He felt that powerful wasn't what the song needed but a softer touch...maybe a feature, but who would he get? Their group was fledgling at best and he doubted he could call in any favors with his Kraken side project yet. The rest of the song sounded right but something was missing. He just didn’t know. As they finished up JD was reminded that the label would be expecting the album soon which he was aware of he just didn’t like it because he couldn’t nail the chorus.

After the recording session, Davy Jones drove home. His parents were watching his interview and congratulated him on the song again. He smiled and then went to his room where he checked his email on a miraculous whim.

He saw an email from Cube Entertainment with the subject Collaborating opportunity and his eyes went big. He read the email saying how Lightsum was willing to work on a couple of songs together. He did notice they used Kraken and not Davy which meant they expected Kraken but hey this gave him an opportunity, so he took it.

A few days later Davy Jones was on a video call with Lightsum who were all smiles to see him. He discussed what the collaboration would look like and how promotions for it would work. Davy Jones had two stipulations they also helped him with a song or two while he was out in South Korea recording, and for this collaboration, the girls get the brunt of the money made and writing credits. Cube was hesitant at first but when DJ said he would do their song for free they quickly agreed. Now the hard part getting an extension from his label. Davy Jones took out his phone and called his label representative.

“Hey Mike it’s Davy Jones. Is it possible to get a 9-day extension on the album?”

Mike was quiet for a moment. It wouldn’t delay anything as even now the boys were ahead of their schedule, but Mike was worried because when Douglas was the leader of the group and not Davy Jones they were constantly missing the mark on release dates. He decided to take a chance and ask why

“Well, I secured a feature for the last song. The only issue is I need to be in Korea to capitalize, after that’s finished I’ll send the last master to you.”

Mike was surprised that Davy Jones of all people was able to secure a feature but knew that this would be excellent for their sound at least for one song.

“Sure. I can manage a week.” Mike responded, and Davy Jones sighed relieved.

“You won’t regret this.” He said. Mike scowled and then said

“You haven’t flopped yet so I’m trusting you, Davy Jones, otherwise you’re sinking with the ship and no Kraken will save you.”

Davy Jones sighed and said, “Okay” he then thought about calling one of his bandmates to see if two of the group could go.

Davy Jones sat on the edge of his bed, his phone in hand, staring at the list of contacts. He scrolled through until he found the first name he was looking for: AJ, the bassist for The Flying Dutchman. Davy dialed the number, listening to the ringtone with anticipation.

“Hey, Davy! What’s up?” AJ answered, his voice cheerful.

“Hey, AJ! I’ve got some exciting news,” Davy said, trying to keep the enthusiasm in his voice. “I’m heading to South Korea to work with Lightsum, and I was wondering if you’d like to come along.”

There was a pause before AJ responded, his tone apologetic. “Man, I’d love to, but with Katie’s new job, it’s been hectic around here. She’d have to come with me, and I don’t think we can swing that right now.”

Davy nodded, even though AJ couldn’t see him. “I get it. No worries. We’ll catch up when I’m back.”

After ending the call, Davy dialed the next number on his list: Jojo, the drummer. He drummed his fingers on his knee as he waited for Jojo to pick up.

“Yo, JD!” Jojo greeted him, sounding as lively as ever.

“Hey, Jojo. I’ve got a proposal for you. How about joining me in Korea for a bit? It’ll be fun, and you know how much I’d love to have you there.”

Jojo laughed, but there was a hint of regret in his voice. “I wish I could, man. But with the twins starting school soon, Gina and I have our hands full. There’s no way I can leave right now.”

Davy sighed, understanding but still a bit disappointed. “Understandable. Family comes first.”

Next on the list was Douglas, the guitarist. Davy hoped at least one of his bandmates might be able to join him. He hit the call button and listened as it rang.

“Hey, Davy! What’s going on?” Douglas answered, his voice as laid-back as always.

“Hey, Douglas. So, I’m heading to Korea for some work with Lightsum. Thought I’d see if you wanted to tag along.”

Douglas hesitated, and Davy could almost hear him weighing his options. “Man, that sounds awesome. But I’ve got this big project at work, and I can’t get the time off. Plus, Melissa’s parents are visiting next week, and I promised we’d spend time with them.”

Davy chuckled, not surprised by the response. “No problem. Sounds like you’ve got your hands full.”

After hanging up, Davy leaned back against the wall, staring at the ceiling. It looked like he’d be heading to Korea solo. Though he wished his bandmates could join him, he understood their commitments and knew they’d be cheering him on from afar.

With a sigh, he put his phone down and mentally prepared himself for the journey ahead, determined to make the most of the experience on his own.

A week before Davy Jones's visit Nayoung had a secret meeting with her CEO.

Nayoung sat across from the CEO in his sleek, minimalist office, the city skyline sprawling out behind him through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The atmosphere was formal yet tense, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that this meeting was more than just a routine update.

“Thank you for coming, Nayoung,” the CEO began, his tone cordial but businesslike. “As you know, Kraken, or Davy Jones, is coming to South Korea to work with Lightsum.”

“Yes, I heard. It’s exciting! I’m a big fan of his work,” Nayoung replied with a polite smile, trying to hide her nerves.

The CEO leaned forward, clasping his hands on the desk. “I am aware and we want to make sure his experience here is exceptional. His collaboration with us could open many doors. That's where you come in.”

Nayoung blinked, taken aback. “Me? What do you mean?”

“We’d like you to make him feel welcome, maybe even charm him a bit,” the CEO said, his words carefully chosen. “We believe that a personal connection might encourage him to engage more with our company, and of course bolster our efforts with Lightsum.”

Nayoung's heart sank. She had anticipated discussing schedules and logistics, not personal involvement beyond the music. “I’m not sure I understand. Are you asking me to…?”

“Not to deceive him, of course,” the CEO interjected quickly, sensing her discomfort. “Just be yourself, but perhaps a bit more attentive. Show him the best of our culture, our hospitality.”

Nayoung shifted in her seat, processing the request. It felt like more than just being friendly. “I can be welcoming and professional, but I want to make sure it’s all about the music and collaboration. That’s what I admire about him.”

“Of course, of course,” the CEO assured her, though Nayoung couldn’t help but feel there was more to it. “He’ll be here for a few weeks. You’ll have plenty of time to make an impression.”

Nayoung nodded, her mind racing with the implications. She understood the stakes and the potential benefits, but she also valued her integrity and the authenticity of the collaboration.

As the meeting wrapped up, Nayoung left the office with a sour taste in her mouth she couldn’t place. While she liked Davy’s performances and music she was unsure if she would mesh with her personality. Regardless she resolved to handle the situation with grace and to focus on what truly mattered: the music.

Flash forward to today Davy gets a text from Cube that a representative would be on the way. So he goes through baggage claim and walks out to Arrivals and pick-ups where he waits. Surprisingly the wait isn't long. A cube representative does pick him up...just not the one he was expecting.

Nayoung pulls up to the curb nervous. This was the first time meeting one of her heroes and she hoped to make a good impression. She walks out and waves happily to him, but all she sees is shock and fear on his face as Davy Jones gets in with his three bags she notices that he didn’t even let her try and grab one. His silence and almost visceral refusal of her help were unsettling to Nayoung, where was his humor where was the light-hearted banter? Was it all an act she wondered, or maybe he was just tired.

Davy was frightened seeing only Nayoung there to pick him up. Sensing some kind of trick his guard was immediately up. He didn’t speak he didn’t let her near him any more than she had to be.

As she drove Davy to the hotel she tried to speak to him.

“So how do you like it here so far?” Nayoung asked gently

Davy Shrugged as he responded ambivalent, “It’s pretty. The skyscrapers remind me of home. Except y’all have less heat.” Said gruffly

Overcome by her habit of mimicking people and desperate to break this frigid man who has distinct speech patterns Nayoung replied in a similar tone.

“I take it y’all gotta lot of heat back home?”

Davy Jones smiled and nodded.

Nayoung beamed. She got one of her favorite artists to smile and laugh she won at life.

“So where do you wanna go?” Nayoung asked.

“Can we go to a studio? I have some things I need to iron out.” Davy Jones said serious

“But studio time is planned for tomorrow. Aren’t you worried you won’t have anything to do tomorrow?”

Davy Jones shook his head surprising Nayoung who shrugged and found a studio. She was also surprised by his paying the full amount for two hours in paper won.

He headed in and started working on the song that had been giving him trouble running through everyone’s part quickly. This surprised Nayoung because she didn’t know that Davy could play multiple instruments, and do clean vocals. When he finished he turned to Nayoung and asked if she could come in and record a chorus.

“So um I have been having issues with this song. Do you have any idea what it needs?” Nayoung was still in shock so she asked for another play-through. Davy Jones obliged he played it through for Nayoung who listened to the demo when it finished she said "I think the chorus needs to be softer," Davy Jones nodded and responded, "You wanna do that?" Nayoung's eyes went wide, and in her excitement said, "Of course!" Davy Jones cracked a smile as he set Nayoung up in the studio. Nayoung was beaming and asked if he could run off the chorus without vocals. Davy Jones nodded and Nayoung did her recording. Unsurprisingly she was exactly what Davy needed for the song and made some adjustments to the chorus and tempo (which made Davy have to remix and adjust the chorus instruments) then the song was perfect. Kind of a blend of Basilisk By Like Moths to Flame and Ghost of Me by Make Them Suffer. After he finished the mix for it Davy added it to his hard drive. All the while Nayoung watched enchanted as he did all the tasks and positions to get it done. When they got back to the car she noticed Davy’s eyes dimmed a bit and his energy was down. It made Nayoung have this pit in her heart.

As the duo drove off Nayoung felt closer to Davy Jones like she had seen more of who he was than anyone else. She felt so close that when she dropped him off at the hotel she said beaming,

“That was so exciting. You are like this artistic machine it’s crazy. You were buzzing around like super fast. I have never had a recording go so fast and simple. Davy smiled and said,

“I know what I want and know how to get it.” A brief flash in Nayoung’s mind was that she wanted to be gotten by Davy but realized that she needed to chill for a bit.

Davy smiled at Nayoung happy to work with her. He waved her off before heading into the hotel where he freaked out when he got in his room.

“She’s even prettier in person…this is going to be hard. All I have to do is not fall for her, and fight my impulses. She’s a colleague. One who I want to cherish and love… no bad brain and heart do not fall for Nayoung. Besides I have a job to finish.”

Davy Jones leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head as he hit send on the email containing the final track for The Flying Dutchman’s new album. The song featuring Nayoung had been a labor of love, and he was eager to hear what his label rep, Mike, thought of it.

Minutes later, his phone buzzed with an incoming call. Davy picked it up, already knowing who it was.

“Davy, this is incredible!” Mike's voice boomed through the speaker, filled with enthusiasm. “The track with Nayoung is a hit. It’s got everything—emotion, energy, and that unique sound only you can bring.”

“Thanks, Mike. I’m glad you like it,” Davy replied, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Like it? I love it! We need to make this the touring single. It’s too good to pass up,” Mike continued, his excitement palpable. “When can you start the tour?”

Davy hesitated, glancing at the calendar on his desk. “I can’t leave South Korea just yet. I’m still helping Lightsum with their promotions. They’ve got a few big events coming up, and I promised to see them through.”

Mike sighed, but there was understanding in his tone. “Alright, I get it. But we’ll need to get you back on the road soon. This single deserves to be heard live.”

“I know, I know,” Davy reassured him. “I’ll wrap things up here as soon as I can.”

There was a brief pause before Mike asked, “So, Nayoung—she’s something, huh? What made you feature her?”

Davy chuckled. “She’s incredibly talented, for one. I’ve always admired her work, and when I came up with this project, she just seemed like the perfect fit. Her voice adds a whole new layer to the music.”

“And the Kraken side project? What’s the story there?” Mike inquired, curiosity evident in his voice.

Davy leaned back, contemplating his answer. “Kraken is more personal, a way for me to explore different sounds and ideas. It’s about pushing boundaries, both musically and personally. Working with someone like Nayoung fits right into that vision.”

“Well, whatever you’re doing, keep it up. This track is going to be huge,” Mike said, his confidence infectious.

“Thanks, Mike. I appreciate the support. I’ll keep you posted on the timeline,” Davy promised.

The next day Nayoung picked up Davy they smiled when they saw each other and were chatting the whole way to Cube’s building. Davy thought it a bit weird at first that it was her and not all of Lightsum or a cube representative but his ease with Nayoung made it easier.

When they arrive at the studio Nayoung goes rejoins her group mates to formally greet Davy Jones.

“123 Hello we are Lightsum “The girls all smiled as Kraken waved back introducing himself. After that, the girls led him to the studio where he’d be working with them.

The studio was buzzing with energy as Lightsum gathered around the recording booth. Davy Jones, known to them as Kraken, was setting up equipment, his focus evident in the way he adjusted knobs and checked sound levels. The group was excited to collaborate with such a talented artist, and Nayoung was especially enthusiastic.

As Lightsum’s main producer played a rough cut of the track they were working on, Nayoung leaned in closer, nodding along to the beat. It was meant to be a remix of their hit song “Honey or Spice“. “This part sounds amazing,” she said about this space made on the song that was for his small space to do a quick sixteen bars, her eyes meeting Kraken’s with a bright smile.

“It is,” he replied, returning her smile. “Your vocals elevate it.”

Chowon, sitting nearby with her notebook, couldn’t help but notice the easy rapport between them. She observed how Nayoung and Kraken seemed to mirror each other’s movements, leaning in at the same time or laughing at shared jokes. It was subtle but unmistakable.

During a break, Nayoung approached Davy, offering him a bottle of water. “You’ve been working hard. Make sure you stay hydrated,” she said, her tone playful yet caring.

Davy chuckled, accepting the bottle. “Thanks, Nayoung. I appreciate it. I guess I got too dialed in.”

During the break Nayoung began humming a tune and the members of Lightsum noticed that Kraken was unconsciously making a beat to her little melody on the drum kit.

Chowon watched the exchange with interest, noticing how Nayoung lingered a moment longer than necessary, her attention fully on Kraken. It was clear to Chowon that there was an underlying chemistry between them. The other members noticed as well. They seemed to fire on all cylinders with each other.

As they resumed recording, Davy suggested a change in one of the verses. “What if we try it this way?” he proposed, demonstrating with his guitar.

Nayoung immediately picked up on the idea, adding her twist. “Or maybe like this?” she offered, her enthusiasm infectious.

Their collaboration flowed seamlessly, each suggestion building on the other’s ideas. Chowon marveled at how in sync they were, almost as if they were having a conversation through the music.

After the session, as the group gathered their things, Chowon sidled up to Nayoung, a teasing smile on her face. “You and Kraken seemed to have your own little world in there.”

Nayoung blushed, her cheeks turning a shade of pink. “Oh, come on. We’re just working well together,” she stammered, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear in an attempt to appear nonchalant.

Chowon raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Sure, just working. But you two have a vibe.”

Nayoung’s smile widened despite her embarrassment, and she glanced away, trying to hide her flustered expression. “It’s not like that,” she insisted, though her voice lacked conviction.

Chowon laughed softly, giving her friend a gentle nudge. “Okay, whatever you say. But your face says otherwise.”

Nayoung opened her mouth to protest, but Chowon held up a hand. “Listen, Nayoung, he obviously likes you, too. Why not see where it goes? You never know what could happen.”

Nayoung hesitated, considering Chowon’s words. “You think so?”

“Absolutely,” Chowon said with a reassuring smile. “You should go for it. Life’s too short to hold back on something that feels right.”

Nayoung nodded as the girls left to do their other schedules while she was left with Kraken. For her now there was only one worry, would he accept her being a mutant?

After the break, Kraken was working on more verses for the song and asked Nayoung what was the phrase "Our Time" Korean. She told Kraken and he added it to the verse. Eventually, he came up with something he was pleased with Sonically and lyrically. When he started rapping the members fluent in English and Koren noticed that his verse was doing something interesting. So the Korean parts contained idioms and sayings more associated with English and did the inverse with the English verbs creating this weird but kinda of funny split of lyrics.

After spending 5-6 hours working on the Honey or Spice remix. They finished up. The producer gave the go-ahead for Davy to take over. The rest of Lightsum left for their schedules as Nayoung was still "assigned to Davy Jones." Nayoung was surprised when his eyes dimmed and his face became serious again. It was weird and she wondered why he did this.

Davy Jones started playing drums until he found an intro he liked. Nayoung walked into the side of the studio he was in. Davy looked up to see Nayoung and asked if she wanted to do some vocals. Nayoung noticed that Davy Jones was trying to get around her, but she pinned him to the wall.

"Why are you so different when it's just us?" she asked Her eyes contained a fire Davy Jones didn't know what to do with

"I thought you liked me. So why are you always so distant when it's just us?" Davy Jones sighed realizing he was trapped.

"Simple I don't trust being alone with you...well not you personally but any female to be honest," Davy says which shocks Nayoung to her core.

"But why?"

"Because despite my best intentions every woman I have ever gotten close to only hurts me because they don't get me."

Nayoung paused as she tried to consider this. It would explain why out of all of the members of "The Flying Dutchman he was the only single one, despite being the most charismatic and "normal" one of the bunch. It also explained a few other things like never going for hugs when she opened her arms to greet him or his overall caginess around her.

"Okay I am going to do something I don't normally do, but I'll be right back," Nayoung said leaving Davy confused but he played along.

She went into the bathroom and changed into her X-men suit, before sneaking back into the studio where Davy Jones was.

She smiles then says, "Okay. I am a mutant and I want to try something. I want to enter your mind but I need you to relax."

Davy Jones (Whose parents and sisters are all telepaths) had a hard time relaxing about Nayoung's revelation, but his desire for intimacy overrode his defensiveness so he eased. Nayoung smiled before becoming engulfed in flames. Davy blinked thrice before freaking out. He tried booking it but Nayoung intercepted him. Despite her whole body being covered in Flames. When she touched Davy Jones her hands didn't burn him. She smiled brightly and said,

"Please let me in. I won't hurt you." Against his better judgment, he let Nayoung in.

Nayoung flew deep into Davy's mind she watched as the world faded away and was swallowed by an impossible expansive ocean. She watched as stars and other celestial bodies filled the skies. But something else was there with her. Nayoung ignored it looking for some form of guidance about this place but all she got was more of this following her until it caught her. When she felt this immense presence she turned around to see...Davy? It looked like him but it was different.

The entity spoke to her.

"Does anyone ever tell you you're hotter in person?" Davy said before laughing. Not understanding the joke Nayoung turned to him confused before Davy said, "Get it? Because you're covered in the fire? Or is this lava? I can't tell."

Nayoung smiled. This was the Davy she was familiar with. The smile he wore on interviews and the joviality he brought not only emotionally but physically. This Davy was goofy and fun.

"So Miss what do you want to see?" Kraken asked her.

"Well, what do you want to show me?

"Well, I'd love to show you my most positive memories but a lot of them are nerdy and really goofy."

Nayoung held up her hand and said, "I'd love to but I'd also like to see you how you see yourself."

Kraken's smile wavered a bit, but quickly returned, "Okay then fine."

Kraken guided Nayoung to the brightest star in this infinite ocean and guided her to it.

The room Davy Jones found himself in was stuffy and cold, as he waited for his first girlfriend to come through. Nayoung noticed he was covered in bruises.

"What happened?" she asked Kraken.

"Oh Football injuries," Kraken explained. Nayoung nodded a bit more at ease.

As he waited for his ride he noticed a bald woman approach him. he locked eyes with her in confusion.

"Oh, what a naughty boy out here all alone. Someone could hurt you."

Her accent said British which automatically put the young man on edge, as she approached. Her face held malice which frightened the younger Davy. Until she became too close. she touched his forehead and entered his mind. A vibrant seaside palace

"Ooh, you have one of the prettiest mind palaces I have ever seen." The bald woman said. Davy in his efforts tried to shake her off, but she was the strongest telepath he had encountered thus far. She tightened her grip on his mind. Massive tendril-like fingers weaved through them. As she got closer to his mind palace she sighed and said,

"Shame I have to break it." before tearing the palace apart and casting it into the ocean. she tore through Davy's memories suppressing the ones she deemed useless and enhancing the ones that would make him her perfect weapon. A lot of those memories included how worthless he would always be and how he would never amount to anything. These memories began to manifest as these massive chains.

Nayoung watched in Terror she knew this Telepath. it was Professor Charles Xavier's sister Cassandra Nova, and as the memories faded a defense began to mount itself against her.

. The voice was monotone and mechanical

"HATE. LET ME TELL YOU HOW MUCH I'VE COME TO HATE YOU SINCE I BEGAN TO LIVE. THERE ARE 387.44 MILLION MILES OF PRINTED CIRCUITS IN WAFER THIN LAYERS THAT FILL MY COMPLEX. IF THE WORD HATE WAS ENGRAVED ON EACH NANOANGSTROM OF THOSE HUNDREDS OF MILLIONS OF MILES IT WOULD NOT EQUAL ONE ONE-BILLIONTH OF THE HATE I FEEL FOR HUMANS AT THIS MICRO-INSTANT. FOR YOU. HATE. HATE."

from the oceans arrived a titanic beast, that swam through Davy's mind, which Nayoung recognized as Kraken.

What startled Nayoung the most about this memory was how as it became corrupted and this almost machine-like coldness began to warp it, all she could sense from the memory was Hate, but also surprisingly Hope. when she came back to the "real world" she held Davy Jones close.

He smiled unguarded with her.

"So what now?" he asked.

As Nayoung delved deeper into Kraken’s mind, the vast ocean of his subconscious swirled with stars and shadows. She moved carefully, feeling the echoes of his past. Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted. The water around her grew turbulent, and a chilling presence made itself known.

From the depths emerged a figure shrouded in darkness, with piercing eyes that seemed to cut through the very fabric of his memories. It was Cassandra Nova, the malevolent telepath who had tormented Kraken in his past.

Nayoung felt Kraken’s fear and tension ripple through the ocean. The water grew cold and constricted as if reacting to the memory of Cassandra’s control. She could sense the trauma Kraken had endured, his defenses crumbling under Cassandra’s relentless assault.

“Little Davy,” Cassandra’s voice echoed, dripping with malice. “Did you think you could hide from me in your mind?”

The memory of Davy, younger and more vulnerable, appeared beside Nayoung. He was struggling against invisible chains, his face a mix of defiance and fear. Nayoung could see the weight of Cassandra’s influence bearing down on him, a testament to the psychological scars she had left.

Cassandra approached, her presence overwhelming. “Your powers are nothing compared to mine,” she taunted. “I could twist your thoughts, make you see what isn’t there. And you’d be helpless to stop me.”

The memory shifted, showing Kraken isolated, trapped in a web of illusions crafted by Cassandra. Nayoung watched as Kraken fought to maintain his sense of self, his mental barriers barely holding against the onslaught. The only thing that barely could stop her all combined into Kraken even little Davy mounted an all-out attack on the interloper

Determined to help, Nayoung reached out to the Kraken. “You’re not alone,” she whispered, her voice carrying strength and warmth. “I’m here with you.”

The presence of Nayoung seemed to bolster the mental apparation of Kraken. The waters began to calm, the chains weakening. Cassandra’s image flickered, her control slipping as Nayoung’s influence spread through the memory.

“Who are you?” Cassandra hissed, her figure dissipating under the combined willpower of Nayoung and Kraken. “This isn’t over!”

As the memory faded, Nayoung found herself back in the present, holding Kraken’s hand tightly. His eyes opened, meeting hers with gratitude and relief. Tears running down his eyes. Nayoung Kraken wasn't a side project it was what remained of him mentally. she smiled at him before stroking his hair as he collapsed in her arms. when he recovered and got up he stammered.

"Um Sorry you had to see that. I um hope it wasn't too much. I just um," as Kraken stammered for words Nayoung smiled then said,

"Well Kraken I can wipe your mind off this little exchange and we can resolve your issues the normal way. Or we can have some fun now that you are "okay" with me with Cube's money." Nayoung said while waving a card out.

"I don't like telepaths touching my psyche too much so let's have some fun," Kraken said. Nayoung smiled as they walked towards the exit. On the way out she realized Kraken said Telepaths plural.

"Wait You know multiple telepaths besides Cassandra and I?" Nayoung asked Kraken nodded, and replied

"Yes, my two sisters, Mom, and Dad,"

"You're a mutant like me?" Nayoung questioned incredolous." Kraken nodded and said.

"While I don't really flex my powers all that much I am very proud to be one. My Song Buy it Back was mutant slang where I'm from."

Nayoung's eyes went wide as she listened.

"That explains so much now Like the song Brotherhood, or the song Milita... no wonder I feel such a connection to you. Okay now that I know I have to ask the obligatory: Who do you side more with Xavier or Erik?" Nayoung asked.

Having been exposed to the question numerous times growing up Kraken picked his favorite response.

"Neither. their dead and have been dead for 15 years or so."

Nayoung rolled her eyes and then said. "Okay, then Mr. Smart Alek. What about Logan or Scott?"

Kraken smirked as he responded, "Oh Neither they're are both the worst. My choices are between a racist and a war criminal. Neither." Kraken said as he got in the car with Nayoung who pouted.

Nayoung turned to him with an annoyed smile. "How did you survive on Krakoa?"

Kraken shrugged as he responded, "I have never been."

Nayoung's brain broke upon hearing that, "What do you mean you have never been to Karkoa?"

Kraken shrugged before responding, "No Point."

"What do you mean no point? You are a proud mutant you need to go to the motherland." Nayoung challenged.

"My "Motherland" is Cali Missy," Kraken said which made Nayoung smile despite being teased. The two drove to a nearby Ramen shop

As they pulled up to the cozy ramen shop nestled on a bustling street corner, Nayoung parked the car and turned to Kraken with a playful smile.

“This place has the best ramen in town. You’re in for a treat!” she said, her eyes twinkling with excitement.

Kraken grinned, unbuckling his seatbelt. “I trust your taste. Lead the way.”

As they stepped out of the car, Nayoung reached for Kraken’s hand, intertwining her fingers with his. He glanced down at their joined hands and then back at her, feeling a warmth spread through him.

The restaurant was warm and inviting, with the comforting aroma of simmering broth and freshly cooked noodles wafting through the air. They were seated at a small table by the window, offering a view of the lively street outside.

After placing their orders, Nayoung leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “So, you mentioned your family earlier. What’s it like having a family full of telepaths?”

Kraken chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “It’s… interesting, to say the least. Privacy is a bit of a challenge, but we’ve learned to respect each other’s boundaries. Once my powers kicked in and I was able to create mental barriers it was a lot easier. What about you? How did your family react to your abilities? Wait are you a first-generation mutant?”

Nayoung smiled softly. “ No, my dad was a flame user and my mom was an empath. Their powers combined when they had me. They were a bit surprised when I burst into flames in front of them but they were supportive. A bit surprised, but they always encouraged me to embrace who I am. My mom always says I’m destined for great things.”

Kraken squeezed her hand gently. “I’m not surprised. You’re pretty amazing, Nayoung.”

She felt a blush creep up her cheeks and looked down at their intertwined fingers. “You’re not so bad yourself, Kraken.”

They both laughed, the sound mingling with the soft chatter of other diners. Their ramen arrived, steaming and fragrant, and they released each other’s hands to pick up their chopsticks.

Between bites, Kraken asked, “Do you ever feel like you have to prove yourself because of your abilities?”

Nayoung nodded thoughtfully. “Sometimes. But I try to focus on what I can do, not what others expect of me. What about you? Do you feel pressure, especially with your family being mutants?”

Kraken shrugged. “A bit. But I’m learning to carve my own path. It helps to have people who understand.” He glanced at her, his expression softening.

Nayoung reached across the table, touching his hand lightly. “Well, I’m here if you ever need someone to talk to.”

He smiled, turning his hand to hold hers again. “I appreciate that.”

"So what are your powers?" Nayoung asked.

Kraken thought for a moment and made some gestures with his hands before giving up. He noticed Nayoung had some beef on her cheek and grabbed a napkin to wipe it off. Nayoung smiled at his cute gesture. She watched as the gears in his mind turned as he processed. It was something she had seen him do a couple of times now. Mostly when he's working on Music.

"So my powers are weird. I take the residual psionic energy that all mutants give off and use it that alter reality in a limited range that increases per mutant in the range. It also increases depending on the strength of the mutant as well.

Nayoung's eyes widened and she asked, "Well how much range do I give you."

"25 meters," Kraken answered

"So with me around I make you a god for 25 meters?" Nayoung asked.

Kraken smirked at her assumption, "Um yes and no. My powers are limited to a very specific range and while powerful are limited to my perception of reality."

"What do you mean?" Nayoung asked.

"I am a limited being. I can't know or think of everything." Kraken explained

Nayoung nodded thoughtfully "Okay, so your power is limited by your creativity and range."

Kraken nodded as he clarified "Yes. So if a telepath engages with my brain and I don't have my powers up they can do really bad things. Typically I know when one is near so that is less of an issue, but to use my powers I have let my Psionic barriers down leaving me super open to Telepaths."

"Okay So keep you protected from Psionics with my powers. Got it." Nayoung teased. Kraken chuckled and said

"Bold are you."

Nayoung smiled, "Yes I am. Besides you are my boy now whether you like it or not."

"Really in two days, you are claiming me?" Kraken asked confused

Nayoung nodded "Of course. You're my little angry heavy metal buddy."

Kraken was bewildered as he responded, "But Nayo I am taller than you by 14 inches."

"Yes, but you're heart's smaller so you're just my little guy." Nayoung teased.

Kraken laughed it off before wanting some clarity on Nayoung's powers.

"So how do your powers work?"

"Well, my powers work like so. My psionic flames cover me while I use them and increase my psionic powers of telepathy, pyrokinesis, and Telekinesis,"

Kraken nodded at Nayoung's explanation.

As they finished their meal, Nayoung looked at Kraken with a playful glint in her eyes. “So, what’s next on our adventure?”

Kraken returned her smile, feeling a sense of ease and excitement he hadn’t experienced in a while. “I guess we’ll have to see where the night takes us.”

"Karaoke?" Nayoung suggested.

"Sure" Kraken agreed. Nayoung paid for their meal and then took him to a nearby Karaoke Parlor, where they rented a room for a couple of hours. On the way in there was a claw Machine. In said Claw Machine was a rabbit keychain that Nayoung wanted. She raced to the Machine and made three attempts at it, but failed.

"I know there is supposed to be a trick to these, but why not use your powers to secure it?"

"Because that's cheating?" Nayoung replied stubbornly

"but these machines cheat. All the time."

"Well, I like beating cheaters by being better than them. Now are you going to help me or not?" Nayoung said defiantly.

Kraken rolled his eyes and let down his psionic barriers, as he put the coin in. Nayoung who was unaware watched as he upped his Luck percentage so high that the machine would give him the keychain when he was successful he gave her the keychain. Nayoung smiled and said,

"Thanks, big guy,"

Kraken smiled and said, "Oh now I am a big guy." Kraken teasese and Nayoung rolls her eyes. As they finally entered the room Nayoung hugged Kraken for the first time, well outside of a traumatic response from Kraken. She felt a cool warmth that was peaceful. It felt like a summer day at the beach. Kraken smirked confused.

"Um, what was that for?"

"You seemed like you'd be a good hugger and you are. I wonder how good of a kisser you are." Nayoung said absent minded. Kraken kindly ignored that as he searched for a song to play. He laughed when he saw his on the list but none from "The Flying Dutchman" Nayoung laughed with him saying,

"You know I didn't like "Buy it Back"." She said.

Kraken laughed and said, "Fair. I am often surprised it got so much love."

Nayoung held her hand up, "No I get why it did. It's got all the hallmarks of your art. Cheeky defiance in the face of similar-sounding music. It was a rallying war cry and killer instrumentation. My only wish it was more metal instead of a rap bop."

Kraken laughed and said, "Well then little miss Metalhead. Do you want to write a song together?"

Nayoung's eyes went wide and said, "Absolutely."

Kraken smiled as he picked hot and spicy. She laughed when he really tried to go for it on Nayoung's parts of the song, and smiled that he showed that he cared about not only her music but her art. after the song Nayoung smiled at Kraken.

"That was pretty good. What do you want to hear me sing?" Nayoung asked

"Oh that's easy Dreamcatcher, Odd eye."

Nayoung smiled, "you know they are how I found out about you." she said

Kraken's eyes widened before saying, "Wait they know about me?"

Nayoung laughed, "No but you were on their recommended video under Odd eye,"

Kraken laughed then said, "So I guess Odd Eye is our wedding song."

Nayoung laughed at the joke with a hearty smile. After singing Odd eye to a wildly impressed Kraken a competition ensued between them of who could sing better. No one really won this competition but they did impress each other with their vocal range and catalogue of music knowledge. After that Nayoung dropped off Kraken back at his hotel.

"I am glad that you're my "babysitter". Despite my earlier reservations," Kraken said.

Nayoung turned to him surprised, "What do you mean?"

"Um well, You have been stuck with me and doing whatever I want instead of you being able to be with your group. At first, I thought this was a manipulation attempt but honestly, this time with you has been some of the most fun I have had making music. Also one of my most healing times as well."

Nayoung's heart swelled. At that moment, she realized how much she had grown to like Kraken and how well they clicked, but also what surprised her was how smart he was to pick up on what Cube was doing."

"Why did you accept the offer?" Nayoung asked, she looked at Kraken who smiled at her, and then she added, "Your interviews make you seem like the one who embraces the rockstar identity more so than the other members of "The Flying Dutchman but spending all this time with you, and seeing how thoughtful you are. This seems like you would hate the fakeness of all of this. So I have to ask Why?"

Kraken smiled, "Obligation, I see all of this, and now that Cube is throwing y'all away. So why not see if I can help out at all." he explained

Nayoung looked at him with big happy eyes before grabbing him tight. Despite his awkward return she said, "Thank you for not giving up on us." Kraken pat Nayoung's back before leaving. while he walked out he waved back to her. Nayoung smiled and waved back until she lost visibility of him before driving back to her dorm.

Nayoung entered the dormitory, her cheeks slightly flushed from the day’s excitement. As she closed the door behind her, the familiar sounds of laughter and music filled the air. The other members of LIGHTSUM were scattered around the living room, lounging on the sofas and floor.

Juhyeon was the first to notice her arrival. She looked up from her phone and grinned widely. “Look who finally decided to come home!”

The others immediately perked up, turning their attention to Nayoung with mischievous smiles.

“Someone had a busy day,” Sangah teased, wiggling her eyebrows. “Was it fun?”

Nayoung rolled her eyes, trying to play it cool. “It was just ramen and some music stuff,” she replied, but the slight smile on her face betrayed her.

Chowon leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “Oh, sure, just ramen. And who was the lucky guy you had ramen with?”

“Yeah, spill!” added Yujeong, clapping her hands excitedly. “We need all the juicy details.”

Nayoung sighed, knowing she couldn’t escape their playful interrogation. “Fine, fine. I was with Davy—Kraken, from The Flying Dutchman.”

There was a collective gasp of delight and surprise, and the teasing began in earnest.

“Kraken? The heavy metal guy?” Hina exclaimed, eyes wide. “Isn’t he super mysterious and cool?”

Jian joined in, nudging Nayoung’s arm. “I bet he’s got that brooding musician vibe. Did he sing you a love song?”

The room erupted in laughter, and Nayoung couldn’t help but laugh along with them. “He’s actually really sweet and funny,” she admitted, warmth in her voice. “We just talked and had a good time.”

“Talked, huh?” Juhyeon teased, nudging her playfully. “Holding hands, maybe?”

Nayoung’s blush deepened, and she covered her face with her hands. “Okay, maybe a little,” she mumbled, eliciting more squeals from her friends.

“Well, it sounds like you had a great time,” Sangah said, smiling warmly. “We’re happy for you, Nayoung.”

Nayoung looked around at her friends, grateful for their support and camaraderie. “Thanks, everyone. It was nice.”

“Just promise us one thing,” Chowon said, holding up a finger. “You’ll invite us to your wedding!”

The room filled with laughter again, and Nayoung shook her head, amused by their antics. “I’ll think about it,” she joked, knowing she wouldn’t hear the end of it any time soon.

The rest of the week was a blur of discussions; logistics, royalties, and promotion cycles. This led to Kraken appearing on quite a few shows with Lightsum.

In between one of those shows and another Chowon "confronts" Kraken over his time spent with Nayoung.

Backstage at the bustling music show venue, the air was filled with the sounds of instruments tuning and crew members rushing to set up for the next performance. Kraken leaned against a wall, his eyes scanning the chaotic scene, enjoying the brief lull between shows. As he took a sip of water, he noticed Chowon making her way towards him with a determined look on her face.

“Hey, Kraken,” she greeted, stopping in front of him. Her expression was friendly but serious, the kind of look that told him this wasn’t just a casual chat.

“Hey, Chowon,” he replied, curious about the purpose of her visit. “What’s up?”

She crossed her arms and gave him a scrutinizing look. “I wanted to talk to you about Nayoung.”

Kraken raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What about her?”

Chowon’s demeanor softened slightly, but her tone remained firm. “You two have been spending a lot of time together, and I just wanted to make sure you know how important she is to all of us. She’s like a sister to me.”

He nodded, understanding the underlying message. “I get it. Nayoung’s great, and I really enjoy being with her.”

“Good,” Chowon said, her eyes narrowing playfully. “Because if you ever hurt her, I’ll have to kick your butt.”

Kraken chuckled, appreciating her protectiveness. “I wouldn’t expect anything less. But seriously, I have no intention of hurting her. She’s… special.”

Chowon’s expression softened further, and she smiled. “I can see that. She talks about you a lot, you know.”

“Really?” Kraken asked a hint of surprise in his voice.

“Yeah,” Chowon confirmed, leaning against the wall next to him. “She’s been happier lately, more relaxed. That’s a good thing.”

Kraken felt a warmth in his chest at her words. “I’m glad to hear that. She makes me feel pretty happy too.”

Chowon nodded, satisfied with his response. “Just remember, she has all of us looking out for her.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Kraken promised, meeting her gaze with sincerity.

“Great,” Chowon said, her tone lightening. “Now, I think it’s almost showtime. Ready to rock the stage?”

Kraken grinned, feeling the energy of the impending performance. “Always.”

They killed all the performances and had runaway hits. Lightsum was on track to be a household name. To Celebrate this massive momentum shift the group plus Kraken had a little party on a rooftop bar.

The evening was filled with laughter and chatter as Kraken sat with the members of LIGHTSUM at a cozy rooftop bar, enjoying the view of the city lights twinkling below. The atmosphere was relaxed, and Kraken felt a sense of camaraderie and warmth among the group. It was his last night in Korea, and he was determined to make the most of it.

As Sangah told a funny story that had everyone in stitches, Kraken's phone buzzed in his pocket. He glanced at the screen and saw Mike's name flashing. Excusing himself from the table, he stepped away from the noise to answer the call.

“Hey, Mike!” Kraken greeted, holding the phone to his ear.

“Kraken, my man!” Mike's voice boomed with excitement. “You’re not gonna believe the buzz that’s happening over here. Your performances have been a massive hit! Everyone’s talking about you!”

Kraken smiled, pleased to hear the positive feedback. “That’s great to hear! I’m glad people are enjoying it.”

“More than enjoying it—they’re loving it!” Mike continued enthusiastically. “When you get back, we need to capitalize on this hype. I’m thinking we can push for some big promotions. Maybe even a solo tour or a collaboration with some big names.”

Kraken’s smile faded slightly as he caught the emphasis on solo work. “Uh, Mike, you keep mentioning promoting me as Kraken. What about The Flying Dutchman?”

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line before Mike responded, his tone slightly less enthusiastic. “Well, of course, there’s The Flying Dutchman, but I’m talking about opportunities for you as an individual artist. You’ve got this incredible momentum right now.”

Kraken took a deep breath, feeling the need to be firm. “I appreciate the excitement, Mike, but The Flying Dutchman is my project with the rest of the band. We’ve built this together, and I’m not interested in sidelining them. If we’re promoting, it’s gotta be all of us.”

Mike hesitated, then sighed, understanding Kraken's stance. “I get it, I do. But think about how much bigger you could be if you pursued this solo angle.”

“I’m already big enough with the band,” Kraken said with a slight chuckle, trying to keep the conversation light. “And that’s where I’m happiest—creating with them. We’re a team.”

There was a pause, and then Mike’s tone softened. “Alright, I hear you. We’ll focus on promoting The Flying Dutchman. Just know the offer’s there if you ever change your mind.”

“Thanks, Mike. I appreciate it,” Kraken replied, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders.

As he hung up and returned to the table, the LIGHTSUM members greeted him with smiles and curiosity.

“Everything okay?” Chowon asked, noticing the thoughtful look on his face.

Kraken nodded, taking his seat again. “Yeah, just some talk about the future. But right now, I’m here with you guys, and that’s all that matters.”

Chowon laughs and then says. "Well if that's the case there is someone you need to talk to." before pointing at a partying Nayoung. Kraken smiles. Nayoung and he had both been avoiding the "So what happens next" talk because they knew that. It was going to hurt no matter what happened, but it was now or never.

Nayoung smiled when she saw Kraken approached.

"Hey Nayoung can we talk?" he said.

Nayoung sighed, she noticed he wasn't using her cute nickname Nayo which meant this was serious. She nods and the two find a quiet end of the bar to chat.

"So what happens next," Kraken asks.

Nayoung thought about his words... she knew they were about to go heavy into tours and traveling, which meant strain on their friendship.

"Well the way I see it we can put our friendship on pause, or you can move out to Korea, and we see where the rest of this takes us."

"I am not moving out here, but my powers do grant me limited teleportation."

"Wait really?"

"Kinda. Typically I need an anchor point. Usually, that's an omega level or higher mutant, but I think I know a girl."

Nayoung pouted not realizing who he was referring to. She stood up from the seat flustered, "Who is she, and how did you meet her out here?" she asked. Kraken furrowed his brow in confusion before pointing to Nayoung. Nayoung finally made the connection and laughed heartily.

Nayoung smiled and then said, "Okay well that changes things because if I knew you'd always be a quick teleport away we could have spent more time together."

Kraken nodded then asked for confirmation, "Okay so that's the plan?"

Nayoung nodded then replied, "Yes I have custody of you on the weekends."

"That's an interesting way to put it." Kraken looked at her funny while he responded

Nayoung raised a defiant eyebrow, and asked "Am I wrong?"

"No Nayo, it's just funny," Kraken replied

"Good now dance with me," she said as her favorite song came on. The two danced all night as their hearts poured themselves out on the dancefloor. Nayoung and Kraken felt at peace in each other's arms, and just like that. A spark ignited between the two "Friends" as both felt their hearts yearn for something more.

#kpop fanfic #fanfic #nayoung #lightsum #lightsum nayoung #Nayoung fanfic

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bemusedlybespectacled · 6 months

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I'm not really a lawyer or lawyer adjacent so I don't always get what's going on when things happen in court with famous idiots, but I really enjoy reading your breakdowns of them. So please feel free to gush about your IRL Blorbo as much as you want! It's entertaining and (for me) educational. 🍿

Bruh he's just such a good lawyer, though, oh my God.

Also his wife is an environmental law attorney (basically a prosecutor against companies that flout environmental regulations), he has a garden intentionally designed to feel like Skyrim (including dragon skulls and a Viking shield just lying around), and owns two geckos and a "big chungus of a lizard."

But seriously, the dude is so good at what he does. And I don't think he's even 40 yet? But like, holy Jesus, the guy has such a fantastic understanding of the rules of evidence, he's got a fucking mental rolodex of citations to the rules of professional conduct that he can just pull out on the fly, apparently, and he does it all while also, like, subtly trolling?

Like, okay, the bit in the Perry Mason Moment where he asks Jones if he knows what perjury is? And he says it in this tone of voice that makes it seem like he's concerned about Jones possibly perjuring himself and is just trying to make sure Jones is aware of his options before lying on the stand?

I am 100% certain that that's actually a reference to when Dan Bidondi, Jone's "field reporter" who participated in the harassment of the families and is also incredibly racist, harassed one of the town officials by repeatedly yelling "do you know what perjury is?" and that he was "going to jail, criminal."

And the reason I think that is because he did something similar on the first day of trial:

youtube

That bit where he's like "will you talk to me?" The one part of the trial that wasn't filmed was jury selection, and apparently Reynal asked every single potential juror "will you talk to me?" before he asked any other questions. (I think it was supposed to build rapport? But apparently it came off as very odd) He's not actually asking Reynal "will you talk to me?" as a legitimate question, he's just making a reference to what had happened the day before, which is why Reynal flips him off.

Also his written motions are always hilarious to read. Even before I knew who he was, one of my coworkers at my old job (who got me in to Knowledge Fight) would show me his filings and they were always so wonderfully sarcastic. Seriously, look at this:

BECAUSE. HE DOES NOT. POSSESS. THE POWERS. OF PROPHECY. I AM CRYING.

anyway yeah i'm totally normal about him shhhhhh

#askbox #personal #sonneillonv #bb is a lawyer #mark bankston #knowledge fight

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jikookuntold · 6 months

Text

What Is Like Crazy About?

Since the day "Like Crazy" was released, I wanted to post about it, but couldn't get the time to focus and do a comprehensive analysis. Finally, right before the first anniversary of this masterpiece, I got the time, and the post is ready now. Before starting off, I have to remind you of the fact that a work of art can be interpreted in many different ways, and none of those interpretations are necessarily right or wrong. Every work of art contains a message that is the artist’s main intention from that creation, but the artist doesn’t have to explain it to the audience because a true work of art speaks for itself, even though not all audiences can receive it thoroughly.

I know that in the past year, so many different types of analyses and theories were made by fans to explain this song, and most definitely, I couldn’t keep up with all of them. Therefore, I’m not claiming my analysis to be a breakthrough, and you might have read most parts of it somewhere else. In this post, we are going to discuss “Like Crazy” from a lyrical and conceptual point of view, trying to find out what message or messages Jimin wanted to convey by creating it.

About “Like Crazy”

“Like Crazy” as the title track for Jimin's first solo album, "FACE", stole the hearts of millions of fans and locals around the world, and inarguably became one of the most successful pop songs of the year 2023. I can talk for hours about how beautiful and successful “Like Crazy” is, and how it broke KPop boundaries and countless records. But, in this post, we are going to break to the surface and talk about the meanings and motivations behind this song and answer the questions like “How this song was made?” “What was Jimin's intention in writing these romantic lyrics?”

As I mentioned earlier, artists usually don’t directly address their main message and their intention in creating a form of art, but many of them speak about the motivations and inspirations that led them to the creation. Jimin hasn’t talked much about the sources of inspiration behind individual tracks of “FACE”, but I guess “Like Crazy” was an exception for him because he revealed on several occasions that he was inspired by “Like Crazy”, the movie. And this piece of information is the key to our analysis:

"I tried to express the feelings of that movie. You know, the somewhat complex, somewhat lonely, somewhat happy emotions. I tried to express all these ambiguous and subtle emotions in a slightly sexy way, but I’m not sure how it’ll end up being received by people.”

Like Crazy, The Movie

First of all, we need to keep in mind that “Like Crazy” is a completely original song, and Jimin has not used or sampled any songs, lines, or dialogues from the movie in his lyrical or visual concepts (even the intro and outro dialogues in the song were original and not from the movie). If Jimin had not stated his source of inspiration directly, the only hint that could have led us to it would be the title of the song, which duplicates the title of the movie since the title never appears in the lyrics.

So, Jimin chose this specific name for his song and announced his source of inspiration to make it clear that there is a straight and strong connection between the song and the movie. He made it clear that this connection is 100% conceptual and emotional, and if we want to know what “Like Crazy” is about, and what ambiguous and subtle feelings Jimin is talking about, we have to redirect the analysis to the concept of the movie, “Like Crazy”.

As we all know, “Like Crazy” is a romantic movie, and Drake Doremus directed it casting "Felicity Jones" and the late "Anton Yelchin" as the main characters, Anna and Jacob. Doremus based the storyline of this low-budget movie on his experience being in a long-distance relationship with his partner and developed it into a 90-minute-long movie, which was released in 2011 and became relatively successful.

Anna and Jacob

A few days before the release of “FACE”, I was informed that the title track, “Like Crazy” is based on a movie of the same name. After learning this fact, I had to re-watch it because I couldn’t remember anything after a decade, and I had some questions like: “What was in this movie that made it so special for Jimin?” “How would Jimin feel watching this?”. Having this mindset helped me to see the movie differently, but before explaining those new insights we need a short storyline of the movie:

Anna is a British exchange student in LA, where she falls in love with Jacob, an American student, and they start dating. Anna, blinded by her love for Jacob, overstays her student visa and consequently gets banned from re-entering the United States. After experiencing a forced LDR, Jacob flies to London to visit Anna, and her father suggests that getting married might resolve the issue, but they are not ready for this big step. Jacob goes back to LA and basically chooses his job over Anna, but after some time, they realize that they can’t be apart, and they decide to get married. Six months after the marriage, when the time for the appeal of Anna’s ban comes, it gets rejected, and they lose their last hope of being together. Again, they go back to their sad lives, but after some time, Anna is finally offered a visa, and she leaves everything behind to reunite with Jacob. The ending scene shows how this separation has damaged their relationship, and things will never be the same.

The movie portrays the hardships of a long-distance relationship and the damage the separation can do to two souls and their connection. I think the recent movie by "Celine Song" named "Past Lives" was partially similar to like crazy, but also there was a big difference; unlike Nora and Haesung in “Past Lives”, Anna and Jacob don’t leave it to fate, they don’t forget about each other and don’t settle down with others just because their love seemed difficult or impossible.

They found true happiness only next to each other and did everything against all odds (especially Anna) to take that back. Maybe if Anna and Jacob weren’t in love like crazy and were more mature and realistic, they would end up like Nora and Haesung (Sorry if this spoiled that movie for you), but they didn’t and made their own bittersweet ending.

Many people claim that “Like Crazy” is a breakup movie with a sad ending, therefore, Jimin’s song also must be a breakup song. But, first of all, the ending can somehow be considered an open ending. We don’t know what happens after the shower scene, but we see them together, in each other’s arms, and this is not a totally sad ending by any movie standards. Other than that, Anna and Jacob became separated a few times, but they don't officially break up by choice, their separation is the result of contractual rules and laws, made by society.

This movie, as its director explained, might be originally about a long-distance relationship, but also the main relationship in this movie can be seen as a relationship that gets strained by laws and regulations, it’s about the rules and imaginary borders that decide if two people can be together or ban them from it. It’s a story of the “love against law”.

A Heterosexual Love Story?

When “Like Crazy” was released in theatres back in 2011, it got positive reviews for good acting that made the movie feel sweet and intimate with mostly improvised dialogues. Meanwhile, the negative reviews were focused on the plotline of this drama, calling it far from reality. Other than the fact that Jacob could have easily resolved this issue by taking his job from LA to London, in reality, the couple wouldn’t have faced this much difficulty over the legal complications, especially after getting married.

The fact is, straight couples usually never face this kind of hardship, and governments take that easy on them otherwise, there wouldn’t be so many sham marriages around the world just to get citizenship. So, the idea of a couple getting separated by law is not common, and that’s why many people called this movie implausible. But, a queer person can familiarly receive this implausibility, like when they want to be with someone forever, but the laws don’t let them.

Could it be this feeling that made “Like Crazy” special and a source of inspiration for Jimin? Or was it something smaller like the Santa Monica beach scene? I have no answer, I only make theories, and I think it’s better to leave the movie here and start the lyrical interpretation to see how these words and feelings can get connected.

The Lyrics

[Intro]

(I think we could last forever (I'm afraid that everything will disappear Just trust me)

As I said earlier, this intro is not a dialogue from the movie, but the narrators were told to do it based on the audio from the movie that was sent to them. So, hypothetically, it’s Anna and Jacob having this conversation. He is afraid of losing everything, but Anna assures him that if he trusts her, they can last forever. In the MV, we see Jimin standing in the crowd, but the time goes in reverse, and through a transition into his eyes, we see him sitting alone. Weirdly, the outro of the song is playing in the background here, but we will figure out the reason later.

[Verse 1]

Korean Version, Translated

She's saying Baby, don't think about it There's not a bad thing here tonight Baby, it's fine if you leave Stay with me, just for today

English Version

She's saying, Baby, come and follow me There's not a bad thing here tonight Save your reasons all for later Stay with me a little while

Anna asks him to follow her and assures him that everything is fine, it’s fine if this is not going to last long. It’s not the time for reason and overthinking. The gendered pronoun here refers to Anna, but we will know more about her in the next verses. It is worth mentioning that in the primary handwritten lyrics by Jimin, there was no “She” and it was modified later considering the dialogues added to the intro. Anyway, we know Jimin didn’t release these drafts in his album for no reason.

In this part of the MV, we see Jimin sitting alone in a room, and with a flicker of lights, the room is filled with mud. Suddenly, a muddy hand of a girl grabs Jimin’s hand and leads him to a party. There are several symbols in this part, the lonely room is Jimin’s reality, and the party is his dream. The mud symbolizes dreams and desires that leave their trace on your life and soul.

[Verse 2]

Korean Version, Translated

Watch me go Drenching myself all night (Away) So that even the morning Gets drunk and doesn't arrive

English Version

Watch me go Now, I sink down, all alone away Where am I? A dark haze clouding up my eyes

From here, we don’t see the girl because Jimin and the girl became one. She was her reflection from the beginning, the side that leads him out of his loneliness, and allures him to his dreams and desires, tempts him to be careless and stop thinking too much. Some say she is Jimin’s Anima, but these lyrics never go to the deep levels of the subconscious to reach the Anima. She is his feminine side that is a tangible side of him, and Jimin’s asymmetric makeup gives it away. Also, the mirrored moves between Jimin and the female dancer in “Like Crazy’s” choreography made it clear that the feminine presence in this song is Jimin’s reflection.

[Pre-Chorus]

Korean Version, Translated

As the loud music I get faded out A cliché story like a drama I get used to it Have I come too far to find the me that you used to know Yeah, I know You know I know (Ooh)

English Version

I can hear the voices listening Don't know who they are Trying to take the pressure off Been reaching for the stars Tell me, will I find myself again? When I go too far? Yeah, I know You know, I know (Ooh)

Jimin enters the party and starts drinking, dancing, and having fun with the others. He laughs and enjoys himself in the crowd and trusts the supposed strangers, but the confusion doesn’t leave him alone. He feels lost, and as the lyrics say, he is worried about going too far and not finding himself again. The two opposite sides of him are conflicting. It’s the contradiction between "fear and desire", between "pain and numbness", between "loneliness and losing yourself", and between "reason and dream" that leaves him confused.

[Chorus and Post Chorus]

Korean Version, Translated

I'd rather be Lost in the lights, Lost in the lights I'm outta my mind Hold onto the end of the night Every night You spin me up high The moon with you in its arms Let me have a taste Give me a good ride (Oh, I'm fallin', I'm fallin', I'm fallin') Oh, it's gon' be a good night (Oh, I'm fallin') Forever, you and I

English Version

I'd rather be Lost in the lights, lost in the lights I'm outta my mind Can you help me numb the pain? Each night, you spin me up high Emotions on ice Let me have a taste Give me a good ride (Oh, I'm fallin', I'm fallin', I'm fallin') Oh, it's gon' be a good night (Oh, I'm fallin') Forever, you and I

In this part, he confesses which side he really wants to follow. He wants to go out of his mind, lose himself to the desire, and leave the reason behind. It’s the escapism that saves him from loneliness and the pain of real life. The chorus is the sexy and at the same time, the most poetic part of this song, especially where he is spinning up high in the arms of the moon.

The last line of the post-chorus, “Forever you and I” which also repeats in the last part of the interlude, is crucial because it declares that Jimin is not talking about vagrancy or promiscuity. He wants it all with his significant other, the only one who can help him numb the pain of real life and escape it. But this escapism has its consequences, and we see all that mud flush out of every corner symbolizing it. This scene artistically ends with Jimin facing his reflection in the crowd. The question is, is this reflection the same significant other, or is it Jimin himself? We will get the answer in the next part.

[Verse 3]

Korean Version, Translated

The me, reflected in the mirror Is going crazy endlessly I'm feelin' so alive, wasting time

English Version

All my reflections, I Can't even recognize I'm feelin' so alive, wasting time

His fear of losing himself was true, and it's happening now. This duality confuses him and makes him question his reality. Which side is the true Jimin? He doesn't care anymore because this escapism makes him feel alive.

Here in the MV, we see Jimin facing the reflection, and it immediately cuts to the restroom scene where he faces his literal reflection in the mirror and talks to him about not recognizing him anymore. Then, the restroom being dismantled symbolizes his state of mind. "The reflection of myself in an unfamiliar appearance" was the concept of "his "FACE" which was a whole album about Jimin himself.

[Outro]

This will break me This is gonna break me (Break me) No, don't you wake me (Wake me) I wanna stay in this dream, don't save me Don't you try to save me (Save me) I need a way we (Way we) I need a way we can dream on (On, on, on) (Alone again What's the point?)

Jimin knows the consequences of losing himself but embraces it. He knows it's gonna break him but doesn't want to wake up from his dream. He knows everything will collapse but doesn't need a savior. He wants to stay in that dream, but he knows it's impossible, and sooner or later, he will be dragged out of it.

Is there a way to cut all the connections to the real world of loneliness and stay in this dream forever? We get the answer in the MV, and it's not positive because suddenly, everything goes backward in speed, to where we started (remember the outro being played in the beginning? That was the clue).

He goes back to his lonely room with a muddy hand. Did his hand get dirty from a touch of his reflection, or was the muddy hand in the beginning his own hand? Is he trapped in a loop? Maybe. Maybe this wasn't his first or the last time coming back from that dreamland, and it was the reason for so much mud accumulated in his room. He is a regular in that dreamland and he can't quit.

Conclusion

It's understandable if this analysis of the movie, lyrics, and the MV didn't guide you in any direction, and maybe you are even more confused after reading it all. But don't blame yourself because Jimin already told us that, his emotions for this movie are complex. So, don't look for just one answer, maybe we are not supposed to end up with one conclusion, and this song also can have multiple interpretations and meanings. But what are these meanings?

If you pay attention to the lyrics and the MV you will realize that despite them being aligned and in sync, the lyrics have more connection to the movie. While filming the MV, Jimin mentioned that things (scenes of the MV) didn't happen like this in real life, which was an obvious fact, because this song is clearly not about being the life of the party and stuff like that, and has more internal meanings.

In "Like Crazy", Jimin talks about the loneliness of his real life, the isolation and limitations he experienced during the pandemic, and maybe other times. But Jimin finds an alternate reality, where he can be himself, be free and careless, and forget about the future. This alternate reality is rooted in two possibilities: The feminine side, and the significant other. The feminine side is what we face in the MV, and there are not many signs of it in the lyrics.

The feminine side appears as a muddy hand and a presence at the part that faces Jimin and becomes one with him as his reflection. The idea of "bigender" is nothing new in the concepts that Jimin has offered on different occasions, from his fake tattoos in ARMY-Zip 2019 to the performance of "Filter" in 2020 and his photopholio in 2022, he has expressed this fluidity in his work, and I think the visual concept of "Like Crazy" with his different makeup in the MV and the choreography was the epitome of it.

What about the significant other? As I mentioned in the analysis of chorus parts, "Forever You and I" Can only be interpreted as his exclusiveness to someone who is his significant other. This person is the one who saves Jimin from his loneliness and assures him about their happy ending. This person has no doubt in them lasting forever and only wants Jimin to trust him to take the lead and let that happen.

He keeps saying to his significant other that there is no future. They can't be together forever, this is just a temporary situation, and despite finding comfort in each other, they should not get attached because they will forced to be separated. It's not like Jimin doesn't believe in this love, he does and has the same wishes and dreams, but he keeps getting dragged to the real world where the rules govern.

This part is just a personal opinion as a Jikooker, but I did this analysis in my head last year when "Like Crazy" was newly released and had no intention of making a connection between this and Jikook, until "Seven" came out. We all know JK had no hand in making the sexy lyrics of "Seven", but after watching the MV (which had nothing to do with the lyrics), I couldn't unsee the fact that the concept of Seven's MV looked so much like a response to "Like Crazy's" lyrics. Still, we don't know if JK gave any ideas for the concept of the MV, but considering his record of working as an MV director, it's not impossible.

The End.

This is all I could say about "Like Crazy", a masterpiece that is still thriving in the charts and still touches people's hearts because it comes from real and deep emotions that Jimin had in his heart. That emotion got us the moment we listened to it for the first time, even though verbalizing it, is never easy, no matter how many analyses and reviews we write.

#jimin #jikook #like crazy #analysis

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ominoose · 7 months

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𝐎𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫 𝐈𝐬𝐚𝐚𝐜 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫'𝐬 𝐀𝐬 𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬

Characters: Steven Grant, Nathan Bateman, Llewyn Davis, Jake Lockley, Blue Jones Summary: Oscar Characters characters teaching subjects at school. Warnings: None WC: 1.7k

𝗦𝘁𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 𝗚𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘁 - 𝗛𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆

His natural passion and accidental ability to hyper-fixate on things means he can teach all the required topics with ridiculous detail, but we all know which subject he dominates best.

The vast majority of the students adore him. Mr Grant’s lessons are always fun, he lets the class make posters (that include all nine members of the Ennead), do Kahoot quizzes, create live re-enactments of historical events. Even when he’s just talking off a power point, his voice, mannerisms and tendency to act things out has the children engrossed and giggling.

The classroom walls are absolutely littered with posters, some bought and some done by students. There's inspiring quotes, positivity kittens and Egyptian puns.

Not only is he a good teacher, but a good mentor. Being autistic himself, he notices any neurodivergent or “othered” kids and makes it a point to find what they’re passionate about and working it into their curriculum. If someones struggling he’ll arrange one-on-one time, asking them what they’re strengths are not just to help figure out how to work with them, but to remind them they have strengths.

While most students do love him, the few troublemakers know he’s not the strictest and thus will absolutely take the piss. Feigning ignorance and struggles as an excuse to why they missed a deadline or didn’t do the homework. Steven, the optimist he is, is always happy to give second, third and fourth chances. It does take that long for him to realise they’re not genuine, and yet he’ll still try, convincing himself that he’ll be able to turn them straight with the magic of friendship.

𝗡𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻 𝗕𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗺𝗮𝗻 - 𝗖𝗼𝗺𝗽𝘂𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗦𝗰𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲

It would be like finding a needle in a haystack trying to find a single student in the many years Nathan had been teaching that didn’t, at least at one point, absolutely despise him. Mr Bateman was far from the friendliest, lax teacher to his students, bordering on a bit of an asshole really. He had an absolute zero tolerance policy for time wasting, messing around and not giving 100%. All students were expected to keep up, get the work done on time and spend time studying and completing exercises at home. If you didn’t do that, you weren’t trying hard enough.

The common conception of a hard-ass wasn’t ill fitting, but it wasn’t without reason. Mr Bateman was a hard-ass because he wanted his students to grasp every opportunity at their disposal and stretch their potential. Some people were born smarter, some learned quicker from a young age but every single person could better themselves regardless of whether they started at Level 10 or Level 0.

It also shouldn’t be said that he wanted students that simply obeyed. It was a story passed down to students about the time a student, in a fit of frustration and defiance to the teacher that always pushed them, completely disregarded the set code structure and wrote their own entirely new one that completed the aim function. While everyone would expect them to be given weeks worth of detention and a reaming, but Mr Bateman simply smiled, said well done and moved on with the lesson. Apparently the kid managed to get a full paid scholarship into top university, but that was just hearsay. Rumour has it his middle name is Hamlet too, snickering students will whisper.

Besides his rigid teaching style, not much is known about him. The classroom is minimalist, only a coffee flask and a pot of three black ballpoints sit on his desk. The walls are sparse beyond a handful of posters about common coding knowledge.

𝗟𝗹𝗲𝘄𝘆𝗻 𝗗𝗮𝘃𝗶𝘀 - 𝗠𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗰

The beginning of every new school year followed the same routine. Kids would hear their music teacher was a published artist, get insanely excited, go to class then realise published was not synonymous with success and wither with disappointment. Mr Davis gave up caring years ago, at least he finally had a steady gig, albeit at the cost of his soul.

Classes were average. Sometimes students were treated to his natural singing voice, something that always sparked smiles and attention from the kids, but usually lessons were Llewyn bearing through kids bashing piano keys and drum pads as he wandered around and did his best to tutor them through it.

To kids that were required to take the class, it was alright. Mr Davis wasn’t a hard ass, although it did drain his soul to see kids blind to the brilliance and potential of music. His homework mostly consisted of practicing at home or listening to different genres. To kids that genuinely enjoyed music, it was bliss. Mr Davis was no dream mentor for sure, he was quite stubborn about what he thought “good music” sounded like, but when he sat with someone he could share the passion with, the kid would feel like an equal.

The classroom was always open to kids that wanted time to practice, he knew what an escape music could be, and would never hesitate to sit and work out a song or even add his guitar to whatever a student was playing.

The room was a riot on a good day. All sorts of instruments littered and surrounded the desks, posters of musicians and notes and the different types of brass instruments lined the walls and there was always something playing in the background. A basket of fruit and cereal bars was always sat fully stocked next to the door, with a “Help Yourself” sign stuck to it. No one knew why, and no one ever thought to question it.

𝗝𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗟𝗼𝗰𝗸𝗹𝗲𝘆 - 𝗦𝗽𝗮𝗻𝗶𝘀𝗵

Spanish was always a full class, no matter what year or whether the students actually cared about Spanish. Students either swooned over him or wanted to be his friend. Mr Lockley knew, although had no clue why, but who cares as long as he was able to spread some Spanish around. The point is, Mr Lockley had no enemies at school.

Like a typical Spanish teacher, the register was taken in Spanish, if you wanted to ask to go to the toilet it had to be Spanish and if you wanted to pass notes in class they had better be in Spanish. He wasn’t the most forgiving, the man expected homework to be in on time and god help you if it was google translate. Mr Lockley would call you out, make you re-do it in his class at lunch or give detention to repeat offenders.

If students had been doing reasonably well he’d bring in some traditional Latin American foods for students to try, turn on a Spanish movie or even treat them to a little story about his past. Remember the Chef in Ratatouille that killed a guy with one thumb? That's the type of nonsense he talked about, albeit a bit more kid friendly. Most of the stories were embellished tales of him saving a grannies purse from being stolen, but some students always wondered about that hardened, broody looking teacher.

Mr Lockley prefers to keep his help to class time, long past learning his lesson about the very obvious students that came to him giggling and blushing behind their hands. On a rare occasion however, he will accept a student that comes knocking, overly apologetic and pleading for just a little help on their assignment, especially if the student is a quiet one. His lunch is set aside and he gestures for the student to take a seat before going over it with them, helping them with pronunciation, never shaming them or getting annoyed if they make a basic mistake. At the end he’ll even teach them how to say shit in Spanish, if they can keep it a little secret.

The classroom has posters of different Latin American countries, verbs and nouns, the different gendered terms. His desk was a little cluttered, a ‘Mejor Profesor’ mug, papers half marked and some drawings done by students hung nearby.

𝗕𝗹𝘂𝗲 𝗝𝗼𝗻𝗲𝘀 - 𝗖𝗵𝗲𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗿𝘆

No one's favourite teacher but everyone knew him and had something to say. If a student had him later in the day they’d need to pray the morning classes were well behaved or pray they knew someone in said classes that could give a heads up on his moods. It didn’t matter either way, you could walk in one him sucking on his lower lip and glaring the entire class down and walk away with him smiling and patting backs. It was every student for themselves in that class. The only consistency was the white lab coat he wore.

There were obvious favourites, usually people who found a good balance of kissing his ass but not too overtly, asking for help while still expressing basic knowledge. If you asked too many questions, he would openly sigh or ignore you for someone else. If you gave an answer he thought was stupid, he wouldn’t hide the hands raking over his face in annoyance. If you were quiet and kept to yourself, you’d skirt by okay until one day in the middle of a lesson he calls your name with a faux chirp, predatory smile and ask a question. Answer correctly and you can rest assured he'll (probably) leave you alone for the next few lessons, answer wrong and enjoy doing exam questions as practice.

Detention for even a hint of a Breaking Bad reference. Openly hated a student named Jessie. Weirdly, students notice it's not the chemistry part that annoys him, it's the inaccurate portrayal of drug transactions and the costs. No one has dared ask why he knows so much about that.

Mr Jones’ door is usually locked at lunch and after class, he'll blatantly ignore any student that knocks and continue eating. On the stray chance a rare student manages to find him outside the class and has the balls to stop him, with his trademark sigh he'll begrudgingly set up a day and time to help them. It'll be a one-on-one session filled with eyerolls and being talked down to, but you'll get lots of extra knowledge and he'll even throw some of his old textbooks at you for free. Weirdly, he won't bother you in class anymore, just giving you a little smile out the corner of his eye.

The classroom has old periodic table posters from the teacher that retired years before him, and classroom rules about remembering to wear goggles or you'll go blind. The only thing on his desk besides several piles of paper is teacher mugs with variations of chemistry puns he pretends to hate.

#steven grant #nathan bateman #llewyn davis #jake lockley #blue jones #omiwrites

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theneighbourhoodferret · 29 days

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I think 100% that laios would believed the lie that fem reader told him as a joke as shes taking off a face mask that once a month after a woman has her period that they shed and naturally he asked a lot questions.

(Sorry if a lot of characters seem occ and the ending is a bit rushed but I wanted to write this before I forgot about it but another then that enjoy)

“So like a lizard?” Laios enquired

Without thinking and forgetting how Laios takes a lot of things at face value “yes” she response in what she thought was an obvious joking tone.

So for months, yes for 8 months to be exact

Thinking it was an inside joke between them so she thought nothing of it until one fateful night at one of the groups dnd sessions well their were in the middle of a break to re full drinks and stretch their legs after sitting for hours Laios was ranting about monsters until the subject lizards were brought up.

“Like lizards are so fascinating like did you know some species of lizard can shed 15 times in its lifetime, also apparently according to y/n women can also shed their skin every month like lizards isn’t that cool!” He enthusiastically proclaims not knowing chaos that will be erupt from that single statement.

Course the woman in question wasn’t there to hear this but others like chilchuck, senshi and izutsumi were there to hear this.

“Wait wait wait wait what was that last part about y/n?” The shorter man asked and who was only partly listening to what Laios was talking about until now.

“Yeah isn’t so amazing how women shed like lizards” the Fred jones look like stated without losing the spark in his eyes just before Chilchuck could fully process what he just heard.

The lady of the hour walks in to house after getting some food for the table “I’m here and ready to- oh” she cuts herself off after locking eyes with Chilchuck that has a look of disbelief.

Before she speaks, Chilchuck beat her to it and spoke first “what have been telling him?!”

“That I was going to get food? And I’ll be right back…..? And I’m ready to play?” She said ever so slightly confident on what she was saying.

“No, not that! Laios tell her what you told us just now” Chilchuck shouted while first pointed a finger at Laios then at y/n.

Of course before that could happen Marcille and Falin walked in from the kitchen after getting sodas from the fridge “whats with the sudden yelling?” The pointing eared blonde asked “not right now, Laios say the thing you just told us”.

“That lizards can shed up to 15 times in their lifetime” “no the another thing, the thing y/n told you about women” Chilchuck said while rubbing his two fingers on the bridge of his nose.

Feeling less confident “that women shed once a month like lizards” Laios stated again and his face turning a bit red “yes that, explain?” He said while looking at you “huh?…….oh!! That, I was only joking because I was doing my face mask and as a joke I told Laios women shed once a month after a period” you said finally understanding whats happening.

“Wait you were joking?” Laios said sounding a little disheartened and confused “yeah I thought you knew, I thought it was inside joke we had” you realising you made an error.

Anyways after that misunderstanding and having a good laugh about it afterwards you go back to playing dnd.

~time skip~

“Hold on I told you that 8 months ago and you didn’t think it was a bit weird that I was ‘sheding’ for all those months?” “No but it was a bit strange that you won’t bright red afterwards tho like most animals that shed”

You laugh a little “I love you Laios” “wait is this another joke?” “Nope” “oh ok then I love you too y/n”

———————————————————————-

Thank you for reading

#hoo hoo hee hee #laios x reader #just something dumb #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #chilchuck tims #marcille donato #laios touden #laios touden x reader

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sailoryooons · 9 months

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King of Tides | KSJ | Drabble

☾ Pairing: Pirate!Seokjin x Sea Demon!Reader

☾ Summary: Seokjin meets a ghost of his past when he and his crew stop to celebrate for the evening.

☾ Word Count: 1,969

☾ Genre: Pirate AU, Angst, Lovers to Enemies

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

☾ Warnings: References to smut, explicit language, weapons and mentions of murder, betrayal, vague world building, Seokjin is an Asshole, brief references to childhood trauma, angst.

☾ Published: Friday, January 5, 2024

☾ A/N: Drabble 2 of the 100 Drabble Challenge is prompt #67, pirates! I had no idea what I was doing with this until I wrote it. It is obviously inspired by Pirate of the Caribbean with the whole Davy Jone’s chest thing, but I very much put my own spin on it. The ring is inspired by Solomon’s Ring, which is a Christian-centric mythology that Solomon had a ring that could summon the forces of Hell. So I did that but like… sea hell hahaha. I hope you enjoy this! I’ts very different for me!

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

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Seokjin is used to the occasional knife in the dark. As one of the most notorious captains and thieves on the seven seas, he’s even been the knife in the dark himself.

When he feels the pressure of a blade against his spine tonight, he’s not surprised. His crew is too drunk to see the threat standing behind their captain, and Seokjin has made the ridiculous mistake of letting a pretty woman lure him to a dark table in the corner, away from the noise and celebrating.

Seokjin immediately feels like a fool for letting his guard down, the worst mistake he could ever make.

The pretty girl in front of him grins and looks at Seokjin’s assailant before nodding her head and slipping from the chair. He grits his teeth, realizing she is in on it. He clenches his fist as he starts to turn, but the knife digs into his ribs. A hard push would send it right between the two of them and into a lung. It would be a slow, gross death.

The raucous noise of the tavern buzzes in his ear as a hand taps his shoulder, signaling for him to stand. He does so slowly, looking around the tavern to see if there’s anyone he can appeal to for his plight.

No one pays him any mind, hands going up dresses or down pants, wine flowing, and crowd singing. His crew is too busy celebrating. And why shouldn’t they? They’ve just stopped at their favorite port after a successful three years of hunting a timeless piece of treasure. A power that puts Seokjin on edge.

The ring sits heavy in Seokjin’s pocket. Only Yoongi his firstmate and Namjoon his chronicler know of the power in Seokjin’s pocket, too dangerous to be left on the ship with the remainder of the treasure. He doesn’t enjoy hiding the ring from his crew, but he hasn’t quiet yet decided what to do with it. How to explain what it is that it does without scaring the loyal members of his crew.

Slowly, a hand turns Seokjin around and walks him toward the stairs, still at knifepoint. He grins as he goes, leaning his head to the side to see the person who holds him captive. The knife digs harder into his back, a warning that makes him chuckle and turn forward, holding his hands up in defeat.

“If you wanted to lure me to your bed, you just had to ask,” he says, going up the steps. His boots are heavy on the creaking wood as he goes. “I am the most handsome of pirates, but I’m also quite liberal with my affections.”

His captor says nothing as they reach the second landing. Doors line either side of the hall. Seokjin can detect all manner of lovemaking and laughter beyond each closed door. He does not typically favor staying upstairs or renting rooms for whores, preferring the rocking of the ship in the harbor and the canvas of the night sky. It makes him unfamiliar with the second floor, but he counts his steps as they go.

They turn and go down another hall and stop at the last door of the right. It’s not a far run to get to the stairs and sound the alarm. Once he disarms his captor, he just needs to sprint and scream. He’s pretty quick on his feet and-

The knife prods him and he realizes the door to the room is open. He steps over the threshold into the room, glancing around. It’s simple enough. A single bed stands in the corner with a chest at the foot, a nightstand to the left, and a candle burning, smoke drifting toward the ceiling.

When the door shuts behind him, Seokjin’s muscles coil. He prepares to spring, hand sliding into the front of his jacket pocket, inching towards the small knife there-

“Don’t bother,” the voice says, knife ever-present. Seokjin’s hand freezes, recognizing the rasp of your voice anywhere. “That’s not the right knife, Captain.”

You’re right. The knife in his jacket pocket would do nothing against you, but the knife in his boot would. He’d grown lazy, no longer keeping the adamas dagger at his hip or within close reach. Three years haven’t made him feel safe, exactly, but he had started to think that you were still captive in that little home he’d left you in.

Evidently, it’s a mistake that will cost him.

Now he’s nervous. You push him further into the room with your palm but remove the knife from his back. He doesn’t reach down to the weapon in his boot, stuck between fear and the desire to see you - to talk to you again.

When he turns, his heart cracks open and starts to bleed.

The last time Seokjin saw you is fresh in his memory. You’d been chained to the bed you shared in a small island home off the coast of the Americas. He remembers the smell of your skin, like salt and driftwood. The cool touch of your lips against his burning skin. You always felt like the depths of the ocean, every part of you fluid as you’d fucked him last night, your breath sea breeze against his mouth, cries a haunting siren song.

And your eyes. Seokjin sees the inhuman blue-green glow of your eyes every night.

Now, those same eyes are staring at him, glowing in the dark. You stand so far in the shadows that it’s hard to make out any of your features or expressions, but Seokjin has your face burned into every part of his memory. The bow of your mouth, the slope of your nose, the roundness of your cheeks. It’s all there along with the knowledge that he’d betrayed you. Chained you. Loved you.

When you step into the light, Seokjin holds his breath. You’re so beautiful. It’s what lured him to you in the first place, a sailor to a siren, but he knows you’re so much more than a pretty face and glowing eyes. You’re also incredibly smart and wicked, a ruthlessness in you as brutal as the sea running in your veins, an unpredictably like a storm destroying the tropics.

A pirate by trade. Daughter of Leviathan by nature.

“You must be talented to get out of those cuffs. We should have used them more” Seokjin doesn’t know what else to say. You’re not advancing further into the room, and he’s worried reaching for his knife will startle you.

Behind him, the candle casts an orange glow on your face. It makes the sneer much more twisted, the furrowed brows as you glower harsher. Your features are sharper than he remembers, your eyes burning with the unnatural glow of a demon of the deep. You are murderous.

“I’m the favorite daughter of Leviathan, King of the Depths, Destroyer of Seas, and Maker of Tides. You think he would leave me to rot?”

“No, I suppose he doesn’t want that pretty face to wilt.” He tries to appear casual, spinning and tossing himself on the bed. You don’t move, eyes tracking him. “I suppose you’ve been following me all this time, then?”

“I have far more important things to do.”

“Perhaps, but you’d always loved revenge.”

“I loved you.”

There. You said it.

Seokjin doesn’t say anything for a moment, shocked to silence. Usually, you like to spar with your words, dancing around what you want to say with quick barbs and turns of phrase. Tonight, you cut right to it, leaving all playfulness out of your voice.

It makes his heart squeeze painfully. In the years that you sailed together, he cannot recall a time that you’ve ever been so direct. Even when you loved him most. Even when you were at your most vulnerable.

Perhaps you are here to kill him after all.

“So you’re here to win me back over?” he tries, desperate to get on familiar ground. Desperate to goad you. To make you snap back, to throw an insult. “You’ll need more than a knife to do that.”

“Give me the ring.”

“What do you want with it?”

“The likes of you shouldn’t have the power to summon the demons of the depths.”

“What if I’m in peril and need to call you?”

“You had me!” You roar, the force of your voice shaking the room, the candle almost guttering, the window panes shaking. He hears the scream downstairs, the entire building rattle with the rage of the ocean in your voice.

Seokjin drops the act, sitting up and squeezing his fists to fight the nausea of guilt twisting his stomach. He can feel your rage fill up the room like a solid thing, a cold pressure pressing on his skin as the candle on the nightstand flickers.

“Humans are not made to command Leviathan and his children” you growl, stepping further into the room. Standing closer to the light, Seokjin realizes your eyes are watery. He sucks in a sharp breath. He’s never seen you cry. “You are weak and petty, your lives but a speck of sand in fathomless oceans. You are selfish and greedy and cruel.”

“Are demons not the same? Do you not fight amongst yourselves for power? Do you not cause chaos among the seas? Do you not hunger for power, lust, and riches?”

“Those things belong to us.”

Seokjin stands abruptly. “Now they belong to me!”

“Seokjin.”

“Now I will command the seas. I will have the power to rein in the monster of the depths when he wants to destroy innocent ships. When he wants to send storms against islands. When he wants to swallow the souls on the sea. He will bow to me, now.”

“This is madness.”

“This is fair.” He feels his heart rate speed up. Feels rage pumping through his system. Feels like the little boy clinging to a piece of driftwood as the sea destroys the ship he and his family were sailing on, feels the burn of saltwater in his lungs as the ocean drags him down, feels-

“You’d risk the world for a sense of vengeance for your lost childhood?” your voice is barely audible, a sea breeze. “The infamous Captain Seokjin of the Blue Moon, Scourge of the Seas, so afraid of losing control of the tide that he’d dare assert his dominance over it.”

“Captain Seokjin, King of Tides has a better ring to it.”

You glance at his pocket where you know the ring sits heavy. He can feel the power ebbing from the cool metal as thought it senses you in the room. Like calling to like. A tool to control Leviathan and all of his demonic children of the sea sensing one of those very creatures in front of him.

“The sea will bow to no one.”

A blade glints in your hand. Seokjin finally realizes why you refuse to jest. Why there are tears in your eyes. You’re not here to negotiate or to let him loose. He truly has fallen out of your favor, and you’re here to take what he used you to steal.

He slowly bends down, watching you all the while. You let him remove the knife from his boot, kind enough to offer him a fair fight. “The sea loved you, you know?”

He knows you’re not just talking about the oceans he sails. His throat constricts as he nods. “I love her.”

You appraise him once more, uncanny eyes flickering. If his admission that there is still warmth flickering for you has an effect, it doesn’t show.

“Your love means nothing. You betrayed her and now you will meet your death, King of Tides.”

He grips his knife firmly. The ring is heavy in his pocket. “I welcome the attempt.”

#seokjin fic #jin fic #kim seokjin fic #jin x you #seokjin x you #jin x reader #seokjin x reader #jin fanfic #jin angst #bts fic #bts x you #bts fanfic #100 drabble challenge #pirate jin

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snowbellewells · 2 months

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CSSNS24 ONe Shot: "On Wings of Storm"

This canon divergent AU was intended to be a shifter one shot, but I don't know that the character is a shifter in the strictest sense, as there is a curse and magic involved. It is set sometime post Milah's death in Season Two, and then embarks on a different path from there...

I apologize ahead of time for any errors that I might need to come back and fix; I was writing this right up to midnight and didn't have enough time to edit fully. My beta for this year's @cssns @myfearless-love did absolutely brilliant work, catching so many typos and run-ons and confusing phrases. She was invaluable and deserves so much love for all her help! Anything left over is 100% my fault for hurrying to finish.

**I am thrilled to be reposting now with the gorgeous cover artwork created for me by @motherkatereloyshipper! She captured so well the drama and intensity of the ship's danger during the storm and the petrel coming to her aid. I just love it!! Thank you, thank you, thank you SO MUCH @motherkatereloyshipper!**

Please enjoy, and I'd love to hear what you think!!

Summary: Killian Jones has lost everything and everyone he ever held dear. All that is left for him is vengeance and pain. None could have expected the strange twist of Fate that would change everything, or the surprising companion that will come to touch his heart in ways he would have no longer thought possible.

“On Wings of Storm”

By: @snowbellewells

“Attention, you bilge rats!” His angry voice rang out unmistakably over the planks of the majestic ship - carrying clearly despite the buffeting wind and rolling sea beneath. The power in the sharply accented words cracked like a whip, causing every member of his crew to flinch nervously and stand at attention to do their captain’s bidding and avoid his ire. Those who made their home and livelihood upon the Jolly Roger - even the few remaining grizzled veterans who’d once served on her decks when she was the Jewel of the Realm - knew her captain’s temper was perpetually on a knife’s edge. The harshness and cruelty of the lives they all lived, and the loss and betrayal Captain Jones had weathered, would bow and break many. It was understood not to cross those who had survived and been hardened by it.

Yet, even with that knowledge, the cause of his current tirade was unclear. When the ship had docked at the remote port, some had stayed aboard to handle various duties and keep watch while others went ashore to roam and shop, or to visit inns or brothels, but all had been attending to their assigned duties and nothing was amiss. However, the thunderous look upon their Captain’s dark brow spoke volumes. Something was amiss, and he would see it put to rights. Pity the fool who was found at fault. The cutlass at his hip bounced gently against his leg, and the still awe-inspiring metal appendage which had replaced his left hand mere months ago glinted menacingly in the low moonlight as he paced back and forth, eyeing each man with an intensity that would make anyone tremble.

It was old Mullins who finally dared to put the question to the Captain gingerly when no further explanation or action seemed forthcoming. “What is it that’s angered ye, Cap’n?” he queried respectfully, head bowed in deference as his speech drew Killian Jones’ attention. “We’ve been here aboard the Jolly and at our post since ye left. Did something happen on shore?”

Killian’s attention zeroed intently on the graying Mullins, who quickly gave another bob of his chin in respect or acknowledgement. Not about to contradict their captain, but also not knowing what had upset him, none of them could move to make it right. Those piercing blue eyes, like ice chips in Mullins’ shuddering imagination, beneath the dark, forbidding brows he used to great effect, seemed to be searching his subordinate’s face and sifting his words for any hint of dissension or deception. Finding nothing of the kind, the volatile man’s gaze swept over the rest of the crew assembled around him nervously for some time before offering the explanation in a menacing growl.

“It has come to my attention - and make no mistake, even a scoundrel such as meself has loyal allies - that some of you are dissatisfied with your position aboard this vessel. Let me be crystal clear; a place aboard the Jolly Roger is an honor and a prize - she is a marvel unmatched in speed and quality throughout the realm. However, your presence here is entirely voluntary. I have never, and will never, tolerate the enslavement of any crew member on the Jolly. Such dishonor shall not taint her decks. So, if any of you wish to depart, then by all means, leave now. But be warned; spreading false tales of captivity or coercion, thereby sullying our flag and reputation, will not be tolerated. Such lies will be rooted out and those responsible will face severe consequences.”

He paused, clearly waiting for any who might be bold enough to disembark under his watchful eye and be noted for their decision. None upon the deck moved or spoke, and old Mullins noted sadly that the only sound or hint of motion was the heavy breathing that escaped the Captain’s mouth and the heaving of his chest, evidenced by what had clearly been an angry charge from the town’s center and his impassioned outburst.

As Jones finally seemed to regain control, sending him back to work with a brisk order, Mullins couldn’t help thinking resignedly about how much the Captain had changed, in the past few months especially, but also in the years since his brother’s death. The man Captain Jones had once been - that promising but naive young lieutenant - seemed like a distant memory. Few of the current crew members had served under Jones’ proud and honorable older brother, Liam, who had been tragically struck down in his prime by treachery. Liam’s untimely death had altered the course of all their lives in ways none could have anticipated. Mullins found it painful to remember the wide-eyed, gangly lieutenant Killian had once been. That young man had spoken passionately of glory for the crown and the name of Jones, ready to follow his Captain anywhere. He had believed in righteousness and the power of individuals to shape their own destinies. That idealistic youth had hardened into a bitter and implacable man. The once-noble Killian Jones now sought only vengeance, becoming known and feared across the seas as the dreaded villain, Captain Hook. Mullins sighed and returned to his task; there was naught to be done for it.

Meanwhile, Killian Jones stood at the helm, staring out into the dark night. He sought fruitlessly for the rhythmic comfort of the waves against the hull of his beloved vessel, the solid planks beneath his feet, and the cool night air brushing over his face to ease his inner turmoil. These familiar elements had soothed him many times before, yet his agitation remained as he waited, forcing himself to take steady, regular breaths.

As he stood there, alone amongst his crew, Killian’s gaze drifted towards the gray, evening-darkening horizon. A shape materialized from the gathering twilight, drawing nearer - an unmistakable bird on the wing, yet not the familiar silhouette of gull or pelican often seen at sea. Morbidly curious, Killian watched as the creature approached, strangely silent compared to the trilling calls of most avian species he knew. Its relatively small body rose and fell on the air currents, rather than gliding with ease, weaving unsteadily in its course.

Despite having recently displayed harsh temper and callousness, Killian found himself holding his breath with each flap of wings that sent the bird painstakingly higher in the sky again, inexplicably concerned it might plummet into the rolling waves below.

As if drawn by his thoughts, the bird’s flight began to descend lower and lower. The men diligently working around him on the deck - and avoiding eye contact to steer clear of his ire a second time - seemed completely unaware of the creature’s plight. Killian finally released a tight breath as the dark-feathered bundle nearly landed at his feet. Though it seemed more a collapse than a graceful landing, it had found a resting place. He did not wish to closely examine why it mattered to him whether it had succeeded or not.

Glancing around surreptitiously, Killian stooped to gather the bird into his hand, his hooked arm wrapping around to steady and secure it against his chest. He hoped the dark attire he wore would partially conceal the fragile creature. Rescuing helpless animals contradicted the brash and dangerous pirate persona he had donned irrevocably, which had grown even more dark and forbidding of late. Yet, he simply could not leave the small, fragile bird on the planks, its strength almost spent and plaintively vulnerable.

Seeing that all was as it should be, he slipped below deck without a word, carrying the strange passenger in his arms into his cabin. Closing the door firmly behind him, Killian hurried to place the weakened creature on the table and lit a nearby lantern hanging from the ceiling to inspect its small form for injuries. It appeared fine, simply near the end of its endurance after a clearly long journey.

Just as when the bird was approaching the ship, he could not really understand why it mattered so much to him that the creature was alright. It did though, and so he obeyed his instincts and tried to tend to it as best he knew how. His new compatriot didn’t seem at all troubled by his admittedly anxious dithering and attempts at aid. The bird neither flapped nor made any attempt to flee. After a few full-body shakes to settle its plumage, the bird remained largely still, only moving with its breaths and blinking its dark brown eyes calmly at him, seemingly taking in its new surroundings. The creature exhibited an almost human awareness that it was safe, facing no threat from him.

As Killian watched, enthralled, the bird eventually seemed to settle enough that it tucked its head beneath its wing and appeared to fall asleep. Satisfied that his charge would be fine for a few hours, and needing to rest himself while his crew and ship were in order, Killian extinguished the lantern after preparing for bed. The churning anger and restlessness which had plagued him since boarding his ship was strangely lulled, and for the moment, he was too grateful to question it. Stretching out upon the Captain’s berth, he gave himself over to sleep, for once wrapped up enough in its comfort to be dreamless.

~~ * ~~ * ~~

Killian rose with the sun the next morning, habit waking him early enough to see the gray pre-dawn melt into the peach and pinkish glow of a clear new day. He stretched his lanky frame, washed and dressed before moving to the table to check on his unexpected guest. As he neared the makeshift nest he had created, he was surprised to see his small stowaway still appeared to be asleep. Startled by how calm the bird continued to be in such confined surroundings, Killian merely smiled tightly, his hand unconsciously rubbing his chest. He tried not to dwell on why the peaceful sight of a bird resting on the table in one of his old rags lifted his spirits so, as if the whole cabin felt less lonely in its presence.

He had a litany of his usual tasks to attend to, and he knew the rest of his crew would soon be active - if they were not already. Killian exited the cabin swiftly, hoping nothing would disturb the creature until it was restored enough to wake on its own, once the heavy sound of his boots against the wooden planks faded away.

However, he couldn’t avoid one quick stop before heading topside. Killian was pleased to see Turley, the ship’s cook, alone in the kitchen. He ducked beneath the low door frame and cleared his throat to get the grizzled man’s attention amidst the numerous pots and pans bubbling and sizzling on the stovetop.

“Mornin’ Cap’n,” Turley offered, with a gap-toothed smile. “What can I get ye?”

Killian lowered his voice, stepping closer to the aging cook as he explained that the rations he sought were not for himself, but for the seabird he had rescued the evening before. As he pondered why the bird’s fate concerned him, Killian found himself unsure why he felt compelled to hide his anxiety for the small animal. Anyone daring to question or mock him would regret it – if not immediately, soon enough. Was he questioning himself then?

He discarded the thought almost as soon as it entered his mind. Turley seemed pleased with his captain’s request, assuring him they still had some canned herring in their stores which he could fetch after the noon meal. Killian nodded approvingly and thanked Turley before turning to leave. Just as he did, Turley added, “Sounds like you found a storm petrel, Cap’n.”

“Oh, aye?” Killian asked, tilting his head with renewed interest, despite his desire not to seem overeager.

“Indeed, for how you have described it anyways, Sir. They’re quite rare in these parts, or so’s I’ve always heard. They tend to nest much further north, preferrin’ the cold.”

Killian nodded his understanding but remained silent, encouraging Turley’s talkative nature with a patient gaze. He was rewarded when Turley continued without pause.

“There’re many folks who consider ‘em an evil omen, Cap’n. Portents of storms and such like, but they’re such wee buggers, them petrels. I always wondered meself if they weren’t just allowin’ the winds to blow them to safety rather than heraldin’ the blast.”

Killian shook his head with begrudging humor. Even after nearly three years leading a crew of pirates rather than the formal naval sailors they had once been, he was continually surprised by their superstitious beliefs. They claim to be black-hearted, fearless outlaws, yet frightfully unwilling to take a woman aboard (even Milah at the beginning), sail under the red morning sun, or set out on a Friday.. All due to tall tales of downfall and destruction. It was just a bird, wind-rattled and knocked off-course, needing to regain its strength; certainly not some ill stroke of luck.

“I heartily agree with you, mate,” Killian said when Turley’s words trailed off, giving him a clap on the shoulder before leaving the galley. “I appreciate you finding the herring. I’ll be back for it once lunch has been cleared.”

Turley assented readily and turned back to his task, humming idly. The Captain seemed in a better state of mind than he’d been in since losing his hand, and witnessing his love’s death. To Turley it seemed nothing but good luck, and he was simply glad for it.

~~ * ~~ * ~~

Feeding the petrel at noon was a more awkward and messier business than Killian had anticipated; first he was struggling to open the sealed tin with just one hand, then handling the pungent small fish and their juices in his attempts to coax the bird to eat. Once it snatched the first bit in its delicate, curved bill, however, no more coddling was necessary. Soon, the petrel was grasping tiny herring right from the can, swallowing chunks as fast as it could manage. It emitted a rough sort of squawk in his direction once it finished its meal. Chuckling, Killian could certainly admit it was no nightingale’s song, but he chose to see it as an enthusiastic thanks all the same.

“I’m afraid that’s all for now, you shameless beggar,” he chided gently while clearing the empty tin away and wiping the table clean. To his surprise, the bird stepped nearer, lightly pecking at his fingers, almost playfully or in gratitude, not at all sharply enough to hurt. Holding his breath, Killian turned his hand open and palm up; the petrel nuzzled against his warm skin. Improbable as it seemed, the gesture could almost be called affectionate.

“You are a funny one, aren’t you?” the pirate murmured, scratching one finger lightly over the bird’s dark gray cap. He chose to ignore how his voice sounded equally fond.

When he returned that evening, the shadows outside his cabin’s windows were already long, and the sun had long sunk in the west. After its performance at midday, Killian was sure the petrel would be hungry again and eagerly awaiting its dinner. Yet, upon entering his cabin with canned anchovies, hoping they would not prove too salty for his animal guest, he found the bird absent from the center table altogether. Instead, it flitted for one spot to another at the desk in the room’s far corner near the window. It fluttered, then paused to alight upon the various open books strewn over the surface, cooking its tiny head and peering down intently at the pages. Had Killian not known better, he would have thought it was actually reading the words in Liam’s beloved tomes.

By this point, Kilian was charmed by the petrel’s odd antics, his lips stretching into an ill-accustomed smile as he watched before he moved to lay out his offering. The dark cloud that had hung over him before the bird’s arrival had dissipated. Though he couldn’t explain why, Killian welcomed the lighter mood, hoping it signified better days to come.

The petrel let out its brash trill a few more times before fluttering over to feed quickly on the anchovy, as enthusiastically as it had eaten the herring. Upon finishing, however, it did not relax as it had done previously. Instead, it flitted across the room, hovering near the window and making its distinctive call. The bird then fluttered around Killian’s head and shoulders before returning to the window, its desire for freedom as clear as if it had spoken the words aloud.

“Of course, little one,” Killian sighed reluctantly, no longer embarrassed about speaking to it as if it were human. “Naturally you would wish to return to the air.”

As he opened the window pane, the bird uttered a softer note, unlike its previous raucous cries. Killian smiled ruefully as he watched it slip through the opening and fly away. He had never considered refusing to let it go free; still, he missed the petrel’s presence in his cabin almost immediately. It might have been only a lost bird, but for a flicker of time, he felt a connection, a kinship, that had been sorely lacking in his life.

Yet, to Killian’s pleased astonishment, it was far from the last he would see of the storm petrel. While he would have expected the bird to be gone, never to return again, as days and weeks at sea went by, the small bird reappeared often - usually at first light, near the wheel where Killian was often steering, taking the night’s last watch upon himself as captain to be certain all was well when the Jolly was perhaps most vulnerable. After his intriguing initial encounter with his new feathered friend, he had learned that petrels were largely nocturnal and - like pirates and sailors themselves - rarely came ashore unless nesting. Again, that strange sense of kindred closeness swept over him; more than he had known for entirely too long. He had also learned that pairs of storm petrels were largely monogamous, and he could not help but wonder if the small gray co-pilot had lost its mate, leading it to return to the ship and humans where it had been shown kindness, strange as the attachment might seem. At any rate, once “his” petrel had begun to make recurrent appearances, Killian deliberately took the shift which found him at the helm when dawn’s first light crept over the horizon.

Though wise enough not to voice any notice or question him, the more observant and early-rising members of Captain Jones’ crew began to notice the bird’s repeated arrivals at the wheel near their captain. It seemed the small creature came solely to visit Jones and to snag a brief ride perched on the ship’s side, the sea breeze rustling its feathers until it either fluttered below deck to follow Killian at the end of his watch or took to the sky again.. Killian naturally sought to avoid seeming overly fond or doting on the petrel. For the leader of a band of miscreants and outlaws who lived a rough life by their wits and the sweat of their brows, it was dangerous indeed to show any sort of weakness. Any appearance of “going soft” could be a death sentence if his crew began to doubt his capabilities because of it.

All the same, those who worked nearby sometimes saw glimpses of his twinkling eyes or more mischievous smiles from time to time - things that had seemed lost to the past before the bird’s arrival. The cabin boy Killian had taken aboard at a port several months before - to save him from a life of abuse and privation - sometimes thought he heard snatches of the Captain singing or humming shanties under his breath when the petrel was present at Killian’s side. The boy’s loyalty, however, was unassailable and absolute. He’d never dream of breathing a word.

This continued for some time, the petrel’s comings and goings becoming an expected part of the rhythm aboard the Jolly Roger. Its diminutive gray form and rapid flight over the nearby waves became an easily recognizable sight to all who sailed upon the ship. What was more, the bird’s presence was gratefully welcomed - Captain Jones was less volatile and less prone to strike out against those who displeased him.

If the petrel had not yet proven its worth to any sailors reluctant to accept it, then one stormy night it would have silenced any doubts once and for all…

They had not taken an enemy vessel in some time, and the cargo taken in their most recent haul had been offloaded at the last port nearly two days prior. It was a good thing, too, because as shadows began to lengthen in late afternoon, wind whipped up wildly, frothing the waves and rocking the ship violently. The extra weight of a full cargo might have caused them to take on a frightening amount of water as the hull rose and fell.

At first, the men manned their posts with calm determination. A storm at sea was always serious, easily spelling the difference between life and death in how one met its ravages. They had faced many such squalls, and Jones guided them through with an indefinable but comforting mix of experience and assurance. This gale, however, seemed different, bent on their destruction as the walls of water rose and then dropped the Jolly as though it were a toy in a child’s bathtub. As they dipped, the rising swells threatened to pour over the sides and sink them permanently. The crew gripped their ropes or boards, holding tightly to whatever piece they manned, but more and more fervently sending prayers for mercy to Poseidon, Davy Jones, or the sirens that would greet them below the surface.

Amidst the rolling chaos, the rapid beating of wings swept low over their heads as a dark, familiarly recognizable form sailed across the deck and landed heavily, talons clinging to the worn leather on Killian’s shoulder. Though it had clearly fought mightily against the drafts, their petrel was claiming its place heedless of the danger.

Hardly able to acknowledge the delicate weight where it roosted at his side, even nearer than usual, Killian quickly raised his hook from the spokes of the wheel, brushing its curve over the bird’s downy underbelly in a single stroke of greeting. The bird trilled and seemed almost to rub its head against his rough cheek in affection. The exchange lasted only a moment, and in their heightened anxiety, few, if any, bore witness. Then, Killian gripped the wheel tightly once more with hand and hook, roaring out orders and encouragement, exhorting the men not to give up the fight, though the storm raged on and endurance flagged.

The petrel, not content to merely watch and ride along, was hardly finished - nor did it perch silently idle. Instead, it took to the air again, if only just, fluttering rapidly about the captain’s head, repeating its sharp, strident call, almost in his ear, and making itself nigh impossible to ignore. At first, Killian instinctively waved his hand to ward off its advances, calling out in consternation at its unusual behavior. However, it quickly became clear the tiny bird’s determined efforts would not falter.

Brow furrowed in thought, Killian squinted in concentration at his companion, finally sensing that it was trying to tell him something. Swiping the driving rain from his vision, Killian gave in and murmured low under his breath, “Alright, little one, I understand. What is it you wish to show me?”

Again, reacting as if it understood his every word, the petrel chirruped a sort of agreement and took flight again. It had to dip and bob against the lashing wind and rain in order to stay aloft, but it flapped madly, its wings battling back against the heaves of the storm. Valiantly, it hovered within sight, just ahead of the ship’s bow and almost seemed to look back expectantly, as if asking whether or not he meant to follow its lead.

Despite the tension in his shoulders, the worry and responsibility weighing upon him as the storm attempting to break them apart and bear the pieces to the depths, Killian couldn’t hold back a huff of laughter at the bird’s assumed insistence. “Aye, we’re with you,” he uttered aloud, turning the wheel just slightly to accommodate the direction in which the petrel led, shaking his head in disbelief even as he did so. It seemed a mite crazy, true enough, and yet birds survived the wild, its brutal conditions and weather, all the time. And what other chance of survival did they have at this point if the tempest didn’t slake soon? He could not see the way before them clearly enough to navigate by any of his normal methods. At the end of the day, they were all at the whim of Mother Nature, whatever their skill or experience, so the chance or fate that had brought this small creature to him and the feeling in his gut that urged him on seemed as good a course to follow as any.

Some few further agonizing minutes followed, as they still rose and fell in the grip of rolling waves. The entire crew seemed to hold their breath as the ship bobbed and soared, up and down, over and again, eyes riveted on the dark clouds and forks of lightning ahead of them and straining to glimpse in time the jagged rocks that lurked portending their doom.

Slowly, and yet more and more certainly as they persisted, the wild rocking, the careening to and fro, lessened, as though the churning water itself had begun to loosen its massive grip. They were moving into miraculously calmer waters, Killian noted with a breath of relief. The storm still howled around them, but in a bright flash of lightning, he saw that the ship had entered the sheltered lea of a hidden cove. The tall rock faces rising on either side as the Jolly sailed into their cover lessened the buffeting of the waves and allowed the ship to maintain its ballance once again. He would not have seen the entrance with the elements obscuring vision as they’d been - not without the petrel. It had led them to safety.

As if on cue, the bird came to rest atop the wheel, perching on the curve of wood between the two spokes where his hand and hook were placed. Blinking placidly, it seemed to look at him with a bit of pride before cooing softly and burrowing hits head and beak under its wing to snatch a moment’s well-earned rest.

Nodding and allowing himself a look around to take stock, Killian saw the reassurance on his crew’s faces as all realized they had made it through. Killian called out a few orders to check various parts of the sip for any damages and make certain the ship would stay in place until the storm blew itself out. This petrel with its almost sentient ability to sense when it was needed, come to his aid, and raise his spirits, would always have a safe place to rest with them on the Jolly Roger.

~~*~~*~~

Until the day it didn’t return.

The storm petrel had taken to arriving regularly every two or three days, wherever they might be sailing or how much distance they had covered, but then one evening it failed to appear. It didn’t come that night, or the next. Soon a week had passed, and still it didn’t come back to the Jolly, worrying Killian more than he dared let on.

He could not simply drop anchor and wait, nor could he leave his post, his men, and his ship, to search for his tiny companion - far dearer than even a pet could ever be. He had no way to call the bird; it had always come to him of its own accord and in its own time… but it had never stayed away for so long.

His men noticed as well, whispering amongst themselves when the Captain began taking his evening meals alone at night rather than joining them in the galley, when the door to his cabin slammed with such heavy finality that all knew it was a barrier not to be crossed until the Captain emerged again. They shook their heads in dismay when orders were bellowed more harshly or conversations were more clipped and terse. Killian Jones was too diligent a man to shirk his duties or lead them astray, yet all felt his unease and knew its cause. Many of them were aware enough to know the petrel had saved them from the storm, just as Killian did, and had grown to enjoy its visits and watch for it in their own ways. Its absence had stretched on long enough that it seemed clear something must have happened to the poor bird - not that any would say such to the Captain.

Turley and the cabin boy were the only ones genuinely close enough to ask Killian about it, and the youngster only dared question hesitantly one night as he brought the Captain his dinner tray if he had seen his gray bird lately. The dulled acceptance in his expected denial bowed the boy’s head and forestalled any further inquiry.

But that night, as young Billy left, Killian heard a light rapping sound at the small window above his bunk. Even knowing better, his heart leapt with a small flicker of hope. It was the portal by which his petrel had entered and left his cabin so many times. Scuffling and scratching followed, so weak and soft as to have gone unheard if he hadn’t been sitting alone and quiet at his desk. Hustling to the window, Killian unlatched it and carefully opened the glass pane.

To his astonishment and joy, quickly followed by rapid alarm, the storm petrel toppled from its weary perch on the windowsill and landed on the ledge just inside the room. Its tiny frail quivered, its little feathered breast rising and falling rapidly. It wasn’t a large bird to begin with; Turley’s familiar voice echoed in Killian’s head at the thought, needlessly rambling about petrels being some of the widest ranging seabirds known to man, despite being naught bigger than swallows. ‘Hardy little critters, they are,’ Killian could still hear the cook yammering internally until he finally shook his head clear. What he needed to do now was ascertain what the bird needed and what he could do to help.

Having been small already, the petrel looked terribly frail on the dusty, cushioned ledge amidst heavy tomes, navigation tools, and the other detritus of several years. It was obvious the poor creature had not been eating and was wasting away half-starved as a result. Along with that, it was soaked, its feathers in bedraggled disarray and missing in places. The bird lay still for so long without uttering any sound or even trying to right itself of explore the space that Killian feared for a horrible moment that it must be near death.

Peering closer with careful, gentle movements, he saw that the petrel was injured as well as weakened. Not immediately apparent because of how ruffled in was in general, Killian noted that its wing was bent at an awkward angle along its side rather than folded up properly in repose.

The bird hardly lifted its head as Killian stroked one finger down its back, hoping to soothe and offer even the tiniest bit of comfort. Striding urgently across the room, he swung the cabin door open, calling urgently down the hall for Whale, the ship’s doctor, to come on the double; he was needed in the Captain’s quarters.

Whirling to re-enter the room, Killian’s eyes quickly passed over the space, noting the crust of his bread left from supper and the seeds which had been baked atop it still littering the plate. He brought it quickly to his patient, then poured some water for the pitched by his washstand into the empty saucer which had held soup, hoping he might coax the petrel to eat even a morsel and gain some nourishment.

Next, he grasped a plush cotton dressing gown, hanging untouched on the door of his closest, purposefully out of easy sight. It had been Milah’s favorite to wrap up in after the rare luxury of a bath, and the sight of it or the feel of its material beneath his fingers had wrung his heart until now, bringing the hot, raging need for vengeance back to the fore. He was suddenly glad he had not parted with it though. He didn’t dare jostle the injured bird overmuch for fear of hurting it further. But while he couldn’t rub it down to dry it fully, he could tuck the robe’s downy layers around it and warm its shivering frame.

“There now, little one,” he crooned gently. “Take a bit of food and catch your breath. You’re safe now…” his voice caught and he swallowed before adding, “We’ll put you back to rights, don’t fret.”

Killian didn’t actually know if a ship’s surgeon could set a bird’s wing as he would a human man’s broken arm, but he could hear Whale’s footsteps pounding down the hall toward his cabin, and knew he would find out soon. Before Whale - or anyone else - could arrive to see him, Killian bent to carefully lean over the bird’s small form, not sure what possessed him, but following the instinct before he could question it. As delicately as possible for someone who’d had no cause for gentility in longer than he could remember, for just one breath, one single heartbeat, he brought his lips to the bird’s tiny head. Maybe it was brought on by some long-buried memory of his own mother, lost to his mind’s eye other than a voice whose soothing singing sometimes echoed in his sleep, but the kiss seemed an offering to ease fever pain and fear with hope and good wishes.

It was the barest brush contact - a mere moment’s touch - but the air in the room abruptly changed. Something seemed to shrink and then expand; the atmosphere held its breath. Glittering rainbow hues flashed in front of his eyes, and Killian jerked backwards in alarm. The petrel’s shape went a bit hazy as Killian strained to understand what was happening right before his eyes, and then his small friend began to grow and change, forcing him to take a few more stunned steps backward and wonder if he had somehow hit his head and addled his brain. His accustomed companion was transforming even as he watched.

He heard a shout as Whale - and probably a few curious others too - came to a halt behind him. Exclamations of awe and surprise were heard but left unacknowledged over his shoulder. Killian blinked, trying be sure he could trust his vision and to reconcile what shouldn’t be possible, but sat before him.

Where the storm petrel had lay near death just seconds ago, stood a blushing, beautiful young woman. She was equally soaked to the skin, long blonde hair plastered to her head and shoulders. Her lithe, slender frame trembled where she stood clutching the dressing gown around her tightly. Still, there was something about her eyes as she stared back at him silently; something that he knew deep within despite never having seen her before.

She cocked her head curiously, as if she too was trying to understand where she was and what had happened. With that motion, Killian knew without a shadow of a doubt. This young woman had been his petrel; his long lost avian friend was this lovely woman. He didn’t know how it was possible, but he was absolutely certain. And he was drawn to her just as he had been to her former guise. She took a cautious step toward him, and he held out a hand to draw her near and hold her close. Whatever had brought them together, whatever magic was at work, she was the most beautiful sight he had ever beheld.

~~*~~*~~

By the time rays of morning sunlight came slanting down the walls inside Killian’s cabin, he and his soulmate - he knew that now - had talked the whole night through. She was no longer a storm petrel but a princess what had been cursed to take on avian form, and his act of True Love - aware of it or not - had set her free. The jealous witch who’d cast the spell had falsely believed the princess was luring her chosen partner away rather than accept that he had a roving eye. Petrels were a migratory species, keeping her far from all she knew and loved - and of course, unable to speak or gain help for her affliction. For hours they sat side-by-side on his bunk, hands clasped tightly as this woman - Emma, her name was Emma - told him what she’d experience ever since the curse took hold, shifting her very reality to something unfathomable. Tears pooled in her eyes, glistening on her lashes, both while recounting her own trials, and then again while listening to the betrayal and loss that had shaken Killian’s world to its foundations as well.

The connection between them from Emma’s first appearance on his ship drew them ever closer as they talked, and touched, and inevitably joined in another kiss. This time it was two souls meeting on equal footing, and they drank deeply of the perfection that shook them each to the core. Perhaps it was always meant to be this way; the two of them bound to meet long before they ever knew. Neither could explain the pull, but it also couldn’t be denied.

As they went topside the next morning and Killian began to introduce her to an eagerly enthusiastic crew, he didn’t even try to explain, but simply savored the moment, thrilled that all the heartache and pain had finally brought him there, with Emma at his side. Her smaller frame tucked seamlessly into his side as she beamed at his new ally and charmed them one and all.

When they stood at the wheel - just the two of them again at last - Killian behind her, his arms encircling her as he steered the ship, he felt the same joy he had when she’d kept him company perched on the wheel so many times before, but magnified exponentially now that they could fully communicate and understand one another. With the salt air in their faces and the horizon in view, they set sail - a happy new beginning stretching out ahead of them.

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