#I’m going to die before I get to the end

[eightmakesonebraincell]

ateez as pirates who fall for you (maknae line)

read hyung line here

genre: pirate!ateez x gn!reader (fem!reader for jongho), fluff, angst, continuation of the pirate trope brainrot (but i must say i went all out for the plots this time)

length: 14.4k

c/w: heavy and mature themes - mdni, explicit language (swearing), death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, illegal acts (piracy, attempted murder), alcohol, near-drowning, angst bc i mean angst, specific c/w for mingi’s au: hurt/comfort, allusions to depression

a/n: i’m very sad i never got to use this joke somewhere so - why are pirates called pirates? because they just arrrr 🙈🙉🙊 also to those who like connecting dots and whatnot there are a few easter eggs related to hyung line 🥚 big thanks to yumi @sorryimananti-romantic for getting me through the last three months of trying to work and write bc it’s been a ship time ha ha 😬👍

taglist: at the end

san

pov: you run away with san and the cromer

through your waning breath, you reach a trembling hand up to cup san’s jaw

“s-san, don’t do it”

he lets out a racking sob as he shakes his head, expression marred with agony and torment that you can physically feel in his white-knuckled grasp that covers your own hand

the tears that drip off his jaw become lost to the ground, which is damp from moisture and your blood

you swallow the metallic taste in your mouth, “the cromer isn’t meant for changing fate.” it hurts to take a breath and you wince as you stutter. “it never goes th- the way you want it to…you know that by now”

san’s voice is broken and pained, “i don’t fucking care. it’s not going to stop me from trying”

he grips your hand even tighter when he starts to feel it fall away from his cheek

it’s becoming tiring to keep your eyes open

maybe you can rest…just for a little bit

san will forgive you, right?

you close your eyes

just for a little while

just until the pain stops

faintly, you think you can feel your body being jostled against something warm

but it’s far away

far away

far

san clutches your limp body as he lets out a primal wail of anguish

you cannot die

you will not die

he snatches the glowing hourglass and flips it with desperation screaming in every cell of his body

and then his world goes white.

you don’t notice when the footsteps behind you suddenly fall silent

you’re too busy reasoning with the captain, whose back you are facing as he walks ahead and leads your crew further into the dim tunnels of the cave

“it’s much safer if we go over the mountain. we’ll have the advantage of higher ground to ambush the horizon”

your captain, taesung, doesn’t look at you when he answers over his shoulder, “it’s much quicker through the tunnels. we don’t have the luxury of time if we want to attack their crew before they leave the island”

“and what if they attack - the horizon can easily ambush us as long as they’ve got the cave’s exit guarded”

you immediately turn around to look at san, knowing that he’ll support your argument

only to find that he’s not there

he’s several metres behind the back of the group and frozen to the spot

even in the shadowed darkness of the musty cave, you can clearly see the ashen and shaken features of his face

approaching him slowly, your fire torch held out in front of you, you gently call, “san?”

at the sound of your voice, his eyes lock onto yours

he looks terrified

san is lost in a distorted warp of visions

he can’t make sense of nor connect what he’s seeing

but there is blood

there’s so much blood

it’s everywhere

you’re there

it’s your blood

there’s someone screaming; raw with despair

he’s screaming

the ground digs into his knees and he feels wet and sticky from your blood but also his tears and there are so many tears and the walls are cold from moisture and it’s so dark and musty even with the smell of iron in the air and god you’re dying

you’re going to die

“san?” you repeat, now in front of him and tenderly cupping his jaw

and san has to stop you from dying

his pupils focus on you once again before he desperately tries to gain his bearings

he looks around with increasing franticness

he’s in a cave and the only light he can see comes from the torch you’re holding and the others shared amongst the crew

water drips from the ceiling and along the rugged walls towards the damp ground, filling the cave with a stale and mouldy smell

all his senses scream the same thing to him

it’s just like when you died

his own voice sounds foreign to him when he manages to choke out, “let’s listen to captain”

your eyebrows pinch together at san’s sudden compliance, especially more so when he lowers the volume of his next words so that you’re the only one who can hear his soft don’t argue with him

there’s something about the way he silently pleads with his eyes that makes you nod numbly

you slip the hand that isn’t holding the torch into his and prompt him to walk again with a light tug forward towards the rest of the crew, who are not too far ahead

when the both of you have nearly caught up, san readjusts his hand in your grasp so that his is atop of yours

and so you two walk, san leading you with a sturdy hand; a line of defence between you and the rest of the crew…and the depths of the cave

the thin sheet of cotton that you lay upon does little to soften the discomfort of the cave’s floor as you and the crew prepare for a few hours of sleep, but your pillow makes up for it

your head is cushioned by san’s thigh, who’s seated upright against the wall after offering to keep watch

he’s gazing down at you with a tender smile as he slowly runs his fingers through your hair like a soothing lullaby

your eyes scan his, still trying to catch any changes in his expression that could possibly explain his strange demeanour from earlier

you want to ask him what’s wrong but there’s only so much privacy you can get in a cave with the rest of your crew

instead, you give his hand a squeeze

san’s smile fades a little and you wonder whether it’s the illusion of the light and shadows from the torches that makes his face look so gaunt

his eyes flicker around guiltily and then he looks at you whilst reciprocating your squeeze

he’s mouthing something, you realise

do you trust me?

you tighten your fingers around his in reassurance

with my life

the dimpled caverns return to san’s cheeks, and then he’s whispering to you softly, “sleep”

you don’t recall dozing off, but you must not have been asleep for very long before you’re woken by a light shake to your shoulder

the groggy mumble that starts to leave your lips is hushed by a warm kiss on your forehead

you’re met with the sight of san holding a finger against his lips when you open your eyes and your brain struggles to comprehend what’s happening

there’s a faint glow coming from under his bulging shirt, which could only be one thing

the cromer

as your neurons start firing again, you come to the realisation that apart from you and san, nobody else is awake yet

quietly, he helps you up to your feet

the silent question he asked before you fell asleep replays in your head, and although it does nothing to clear up your confusion, it helps to ease your anxiety because you meant it when you mouthed your response

you trust san with your life

so you turn away from your crew members and start walking, each step deliberate and careful, your hand clutched safely within san’s while he retraces your steps from today

and when san deems you two far enough and out of immediate danger of being caught, he pulls the cromer out of his shirt to use as a makeshift torch

you both make a run for it

when you emerge out of the cave’s entrance hours later, thighs burning from the strain, you almost stumble to your hands and knees from the blinding brightness of the afternoon sun

san tightens his hold on you and urges, “this way, love”

together, you climb the outcrop on the left and disappear further into the mountains because you can’t afford to rest near the cave

few words are exchanged as san nimbly navigates the rickety ledges and overgrown roots, muscles flexing as he pushes forward and helps you with an extended hand

you realise soon after that whilst he leads you two away from the cave, he travels parallel to the edges of the mountain trees - a guideline that keeps the long port of the island just within sight

“san,” you finally break the silence to point towards an overhang you spot, “we should take a break”

he’s sweating from exertion and lack of sleep, so he nods with a grateful smile and leads you towards it

the rock provides a decent amount of shade and conceals you two well enough with the surrounding greenery

only when he sits with a sigh does he finally let go of your hand after hours of holding on

you know that he’s one for constant physical affection, but this…this feels different

it’s like he’s afraid that you will slip away the moment he lets go of you

you turn to look at him

“san, what exactly is going on?”

he’s quiet

he doesn’t know how to tell you - is there even a way to package his next words prettily?

letting out a stuttering breath, san puts it blankly on the table, “i saw you die in my arms”

you’re stunned into silence and your throat feels even drier than before

“was it…” you dare to ask, “was it going to happen in the cave?”

he nods, “i just suddenly saw it and it felt so real. it- it was dark and wet and the smell - the smell was just awful and-”

“hey, hey, san. it’s okay, we’re not in the cave anymore,” you soothe, pressing your forehead to his

you feel him relax under your touch before he tilts his head to kiss your lips

“yeah,” he sighs against you, “you’re right”

when you pull away, the faint glow under his shirt catches your eyes

“why did you bring the cromer?”

if it had only been you and san missing from the crew, taesung might not have bothered going after the two of you

but with the missing cromer too, the captain will spend the rest of his life tracking it down - tracking you two down - if that’s what it will take

taesung isn’t stupid enough to just let go of the cromer and the inexplicable power it holds to travel between dimensions

san shimmies the hourglass out of his shirt and holds it carefully in his hands, “i need a fail-proof safety net, just in case something goes wrong and…i still don’t end up saving you”

“a safety net?” an uneasy feeling settles in your stomach, “san? what are you not telling me?”

he runs his fingers along the metal casing over and over again as he avoids looking at you

“i…i’ve used it before,” san finally admits, “i used the cromer to bring you back to life”

without thinking, you blurt, “it’s only meant for travelling between dimensions. nobody knows what the repercussions are if you try to mess with fate!”

“well, i did it.” he snaps, “you’re here, alive, and i would do it again and again to save you”

at his words, you soften

because san didn’t just see you die

he lived through seeing you die

you can’t even begin to imagine if you had been the one to experience san die in your arms

“i’m sorry,” you apologise. “thank you for saving me, and for loving me”

san’s eyes are red when he looks at you, “i’m sorry, too, for snapping at you. i know this is a lot for you to process”

you shake your head with your own watery smile

“i’m alive, and i promise i’ll stay alive”

“and i promise i’ll keep you alive,” he nudges your cheek with a playful peck

you laugh, because san makes you happy even in the most uncertain of times, and you ask, “what’s the plan now?”

“find a ship that’s willing to get us the hell out of here”

he makes a move to stand and you place your hand on the ground to push yourself up to your feet too

except your hand shifts with your weight and you end up cutting your palm open on the sharp edge of the rocks

hissing, you draw your hand back towards your chest

“shit, let me have a look,” san drops to his knees and takes your hand in his

he gently blows away the soil and rubble around your wound as you wince

it’s nothing too serious, but it’s deep enough that blood immediately begins to pool in the broken skin and seep further out onto your palm

the glow of the cromer pulses

“san,” you start when you see the cogs moving in his head

he removes one hand to pull the cromer out and presents it to the both of you

“i’m not losing you to infection from a cut, not after everything that we’ve done so far to get to here,” he quips

there’s only time to let out an exasperated sigh before he’s taking your good hand to turn the cromer together

your world goes white

the next moment when you open your eyes after blinking, you’re still there resting under the overhang in the mountain forest

san’s sitting next to you, the only sign of the cromer a faint glow under his shirt

and your hand…

there’s no cut

your head whips towards san and his eyes widen when he sees the unbroken skin of your palm

san makes a move to stand, but this time, he gathers your hands and pulls you up with him

“it worked,” you breathe out once you’re on your feet

“it worked!” san repeats, engulfing you into a crushing hug

the amount of relief he feels is uncontainable, because the cut is reassurance that he can change fate with the cromer

in high spirits, san tucks it back into the safety of his shirt after wrapping it in a length of sash and then he secures it snugly under his belt

you two need to look the part of inconspicuous travellers, and a glowing hourglass would most definitely draw unwanted attention

you and san cut through the back streets and alleyways of the small village that separates the mountain and the coast, keeping an eye out for not only your crew members - or ex-crew, you suppose - but also the members of the horizon

“remember,” san whispers into your ear as you both approach port, “if anyone asks, i’m your husband and we’re travelling merchants”

you’re too nervous to answer but you nod anyway, letting san take the lead once again

with the confidence of somebody most definitely not lying, san strides up to a sailor who is yelling at his men to load the crates faster and spins a story right out of his ass

somehow, san manages to concoct a convincing recount of how your goods were stolen by thieves, leaving you both without any means of making money, so now you are left with no choice but to go back to your hometown which happens to be on the way to the ship’s destination, which you know because you overheard the sailors talking earlier

when the sailor glances in your direction, you try to nurse your expression into one of simultaneous distress and gratitude in hopes of selling the story even further

he simply stares at the both of you and you think that he’s going to turn down your request, but then the sailor gives a sweet smile and extends his hand out in greeting, “daeho. welcome aboard”

that’s how you and san find yourselves in the ship’s hold, legs crossed side by side on the wooden floor and surrounded by a multitude of crates and barrels

neither of you realise that you’re holding your breaths and it’s not due to the stale air in the poorly ventilated hold

only when the shout of “anchors aweigh” is heard and the ship slowly starts to pull away from the dock do you finally relax, the feeling of hope slowly seeping into your bodies

because all that’s left now is to wait for the ship to dock at the next port and then you and san can disappear and start a new life

at the notion of safety, your stomach finally calls for attention with a grumble

san teases, “sounds like someone needs a bit of food,” just as his stomach answers with a growl of its own

you break out into laughter and pull him up with you to snoop inside the crates for something edible

lifting the lid to one of the crates, you peer inside to find what looks like a layer of burlap

you reach down with a hand to remove the covering and dig deeper, only to jerk your arm back when you feel the burning pain of a cut

“oh fuck, what?” you hiss as you look into the crate again, “why the hell are there so many knives?”

san is beside you within a split second, already turning you around to cradle your hand in his

the cut extends across your palm and there’s something sickening yet eerily familiar about the way the blood rapidly starts to pool and seep past the broken skin

goosebumps spread across your body when it hits you

“san,” you look up at him with a trembling voice, hardly audible over the pounding of your heart, “it’s the same cut”

his eyes bore into yours with reflected horror when your words sink in

because if it really is the same cut, then that means-

san’s attention suddenly shifts to behind you and that’s the last thing you register before your head explodes with blinding pain

your world turns black.

there’s a ceaseless hammering in your skull when you regain some semblance of awareness and it takes all of your willpower not to let the throb drag you back into unconsciousness

you open your eyes with a groan, trying to clear your vision, only to find san still out cold on the floor beside you

you scrabble closer towards him and brush his fringe out of his eyes

“san,” you shake him a little, “san, wake up”

his mouth tightens into a grimace as he’s slowly brought back to consciousness at the sound of your voice

“fuck…they hit hard,” he props himself up with another curse before he asks you in a panic, “are you hurt?”

you start to shake your head but then think better of it, “my head hurts like a bitch, but i’m okay”

san pulls you into his chest and wraps his arms around you

you let yourself sink into the safety of his embrace, pretending that everything is okay even if just for a moment

“i’m sorry, i’m so sorry,” san repeats the apology into the crown of your head

you can’t do anything but return hushed whispers of comfort and hug him tighter

a sudden clang draws you out of his arms as you both turn in the direction of the sound

that’s when you realise you’re no longer in the hold

you’re in a cell

the brig of the ship is much darker and the air is suffocatingly musty from the lack of ventilation and the perpetually damp floors and walls

damp from what exactly, you really don’t want to know

you hear the heavy thud of boots amplifying as the person approaches your cell, your eyes straining to make out their face in the dark

they squat in front of your bars

the sweet smile on daeho’s face makes him look crazed now and you shrink back to put some distance between you two

“did you have a good rest?” he asks, sounding genuinely curious

at san’s seething growl of anger, daeho raises his hands up in faux surrender and states, “i just want the cromer”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” san glowers

the other man wriggles his fingers at san’s waist, “you’re not very good at hiding it in your shirt”

almost as if it knows it is being talked about, the cromer flashes from under the layers of cloth

“why didn’t you just take it from us earlier,” you bite out

daeho clicks his tongue with a disappointed smile, “but then where’s the fun in that?”

he stretches a hand out and waits with his palm upturned just outside of the cell bars

“now give it to me,” he demands

san stares in retaliation, not once looking away as he slowly reaches for the cromer

he takes it out of his shirt and unwraps the sash from around it, then starts to extend the hourglass out towards daeho’s hand

as you watch with bated breath, you notice the subtle tightening of san’s grip around the metal casing and you realise he intends to flip it

except you’re not the only one who comes to the same conclusion

you see the exact moment the facade drops from daeho’s face and is replaced by his true derangement

the hand by the pistol at his side starts to move

but so do you

this time, everything turns red as the scorching heat of pain paralyses your entire body

the cromer falls to the floor at the same time as you do

from outside the cell, daeho laughs viciously, but it’s drowned out by the agonising cry that comes out of san’s chest

san desperately gathers you in his arms, hands pressing against the bullet hole to stem the blood flow

but there is so much blood

it’s everywhere

the ground digs into his knees and he’s wet and sticky from your blood but also from his own tears and there are so many tears and even with the pungent smell of iron in the air he can still smell the mustiness of the cell and he can’t get enough oxygen into his lungs because god you’re dying

and he’s suddenly struck with the heart-wrenching thought

did he unwittingly condemn you to your own fate?

or is it like the cut on your palm - is he unable to change fate no matter what decisions he makes differently?

the sob that wrenches itself out of san hurts you more than anything

“i love you,” you say, because your words are numbered and you want them all to be san’s

he shakes his head furiously, “shut up, you’re going to be fine”

your words come out effortfully, “please, i want to hear you say it one last time”

“fuck,” san buries his face in your shoulder, “i love you so, so much. i can’t live without you”

he pulls back heartbroken, “i can still change this”

through your waning breath, you reach a trembling hand up to cup san’s jaw

“s-san, don’t do it”

he lets out a racking sob as he shakes his head again, expression marred with agony and torment that you can physically feel in his white-knuckled grasp that covers your own hand

the tears that drip off his jaw become lost to the damp ground

you swallow the metallic taste in your mouth, “the cromer isn’t meant for changing fate.” it hurts to take a breath and you wince as you stutter. “it never goes th- the way you want it to…you know that by now”

san’s voice is broken and pained, “i don’t fucking care. it’s not going to stop me from trying”

he grips your hand even tighter when he starts to feel it fall away from his cheek

it’s becoming tiring to keep your eyes open

maybe you can rest…just for a little bit

san will forgive you, right?

you close your eyes

just for a little while

just until the pain stops

faintly, you think you can feel your body being jostled against something warm

but it’s far away

far away

far

san clutches your limp body as he lets out a primal wail of anguish

you cannot die

you will not die

he snatches the glowing hourglass and flips it with desperation screaming in every cell of his body

and then his world goes white.

mingi

pov: you're the crew's surgeon

you have all the time in the world to yourself

the recent raid was successful - the other vessel had surrendered quickly without putting up a fight and your ship is now well stocked up from the loot of supplies

hongjoong has promised the crew shore leave, a vacation of sorts, and so you and the crew are travelling to port malthov, a haven island for pirates

it’ll take about a week to arrive

and without a foreseeable raid or run-in with enemy vessels, there is no need for your medical duties

which is a good thing, really

but it also means that you have a lot of time

and time is your worst enemy

time is time alone with your own thoughts, time alone with your internal demons, and right now, your mind is a sinkhole of them and you are the very thing being pulled into its depths

you’re sprawled out on the upper deck, arms and legs splayed like a physical manifestation of your efforts to reach the edges of the sinkhole and hold on

you think to yourself that it’s reassuring when you can see blood

because it’s visible, physical, and you can fix it

step one, rinse the area with clean water

step two, disinfect the wound

step three, remove any foreign objects or dead skin

step four, suture as required for nastier injuries

step five, wrap a clean cloth over, under, over, under, then fasten

there’s a procedure and it makes sense

but when it’s invisible, what do you do?

there are no medical diagrams, procedures or journals that teach you how to heal your own hurt

you may be the crew’s surgeon, but you wonder how qualified you truly are if you can’t even fix yourself

the skies are clear today and the sun shines down directly on your exposed skin

it’s uncomfortable but you don’t move, limbs feeling just a little too strung tight to cooperate

you don’t think you have the energy to do much more than to just lie there and exist

and the burn of the sunlight is kind of nice

it tells you that you’re still alive - even if the feeling of living is pain

that’s where mingi finds you twenty minutes later, his face upside down as he leans over to look at your face-

only to very nearly drop a block of wood right onto you

“oh, shit,” he fumbles as the multitude of items he is carrying to his chest falls and clatters onto the deck around your head

you jolt up to save yourself from a bruised forehead and eye him, curiosity well and truly piqued

with a huff, he piles everything in front of you, followed by himself as he sits cross-legged in front of you

he looks suspiciously hopeful and expectant

“can you carve me another dolphin?”

months ago, you had tried carving ornamental animals out of small scraps of wood left over from a hull repair

most of your carvings had turned out hideous and you had tossed them overboard, but mingi had not stopped following you and begging until you gave him one

you could barely even call it a dolphin, but for some reason, he has kept it since like it’s something valuable

“i already made you one,” you start

but he protests, “i lost him!”

you blink

nevermind. maybe not so valuable

“...you lost it?”

you’re not sure whether you’re disappointed or relieved that it’s forever gone to the void

“i lost him, yes. so can you please carve me a new one?”

you blink once more and he looks back at you with wide, pleading eyes

“fine, pass me the knife,” you finally relent

he grins, handing something that feels quite familiar into your outstretched hand

“are these my scalpels?!” you clutch them defensively to your chest. “mingi, i am not carving wood with these”

mingi breaks out into pleased laughter, crescent eyes and gaping mouth as he produces a pocket knife that you can actually use

“you’re ridiculous,” you tell him, setting your medical instruments safely to one side, but you don’t really mean it

you bring the blade of the pocket knife to the edge of the wood and start whittling away

you expect mingi to get up and leave you to your devices, except he doesn’t

he stays and asks you question after question about the carving

which part are you working on now?

how do you shape the tail?

what was the first thing you tried to carve?

if you could carve something else after this, what would it be?

and it goes on for hours - as the wood gradually takes shape of the animal, as the harsh sun lowers and is replaced by the cool breeze of evening

…as mingi fills up your sinkhole and you are no longer grasping at the edges to stay afloat

it happens without you even realising, but he lets you take refuge in him from your own thoughts

and later that night, when the crew are preparing to sleep for the night, mingi will place the newly-carved dolphin at the head of his hammock

he will itch to rummage through the small chest that holds his personal belongings and treasures

he will want to unwrap the small object he has hidden away at the very bottom of his chest and put it side by side with the dolphin

but he won’t, because otherwise you’ll see the two dolphins and realise that he was lying about having lost the first one, so he’ll opt to keep it hidden

mingi thinks that he might even ask you to carve him something else tomorrow

he’ll say that his dolphin needs somebody by its side

what he won’t say though, is that he knows you need somebody by your side

and if he can offer you a few hours of mindlessness while you carve with him beside you, then he’ll ask you to make him a whole aquarium of animals

but that’s tomorrow

for now, he lets you rest on him, and you find that it doesn’t seem quite as hard to exist anymore

because sometimes, even surgeons need their own healers

you don’t have another bad day that week

technically, they’re all still bad days, but they aren’t as bad

but as it is with your luck, it all comes back to drag you underwater when the arriba pulls into port malthov and lowers its anchor

of all days, your head feels foggy, your body feels empty and your lungs feel laboured

you’re not even sad

you’re just…hollow

and the worst part is that you have absolutely no reason to be feeling this way

being up in the crow’s nest for once has given you the perfect vantage point to watch as the majority of the crew precariously run off the gangplank with whoops and hollers, splitting off to explore the town

their excitement is infectious - to everybody but you

instead, you had offered to take over yeosang’s lookout duties so that he could go to the town’s tavern

you’ve already rotted the morning and most of the afternoon away and your stomach grumbles in protest at having skipped both meals

it knows that you probably won’t be eating dinner either

“y/n,” a voice calls out to you from the deck, “are you not going into town?”

you peer over the edge of the nest and find mingi’s small form, his head craned upwards in your direction

“lookout duties,” you simply say

but mingi calls your bluff

“the whole point of shore leave is that we all get time off. captain’s still on board to make sure our ship doesn’t catch on fire or some shit, don’t worry”

when you still don’t make a move, mingi starts to climb up the rigging and you startle to your feet

“heavens, okay, i’m coming down”

he’s banned from rigging duties for a reason

when you land on the upper deck, he looks awfully smug with himself

he asks, “can we go eat seafood? not fish, but like the good stuff”

“since when did you like seafood?”

“always?”

mingi did not always like seafood but you let it slide

he guides you across the gangplank and towards the bustling streets of the town, keeping you tucked closely into his side

almost like he knows you’re feeling more fragile than usual

you two come across a market and he tells you to find a table in the outdoor seating area

when he returns to you after a while, both his hands are stacked with platters of shrimp, some crabs and even a lobster

“mingi, what-?” you break out into an astounded laugh

you can’t even find it in yourself to finish your sentence because it looks like he’s bought enough food to feed half your crew

he sets the plates down in front of you, one by one, until you can barely see the table itself

and you watch, still incredulous, as he picks up a steamed shrimp, meticulously peeling off the shells that he discards onto his plate

…before placing the peeled shrimp onto the plate in front of you

“eat,” he encourages

mingi picks up another shrimp to peel, looking away from you so as not to pressure you

but he can’t help but look and smile widely when you do eventually bring the food up to your mouth and take a bite

it tastes good

shrimp has always been one of the things you miss the most when you’re sailing and as the salty taste of the ocean spreads across your tongue, you start to feel your appetite returning

by the time you’ve swallowed, there’s already another shrimp on your plate, peeled and ready for eating

mingi smiles knowingly when you groan around your next bite

the sun may have already started to disappear into the horizon, but right now with mingi’s plate piling up with discarded shells and yours with juicy shrimp meat, the hollow cavity in your chest slowly filling with warmth, the sun is only just starting to rise for you

and mingi will keep filling your plate until your sun has fully risen into the sky

because sometimes, healing needs the help of an extra pair of hands

the day before your crew is scheduled to leave port malthov, you find yourself sitting on the sandy shores of the coastline, far away from where the arriba is docked

the wind tugs at your hair and the hems of your clothing in the direction of the ocean

you wonder what it would be like to just let yourself go and float along with the wind

your thoughts are interrupted by the soft squeaks of bare feet in the sand approaching you and mingi lowers himself down to sit by your side

no matter where you hide, he somehow always finds you

you give him a small smile when he calls your name in greeting, but it’s all you can really manage to do

it’s hard for you to talk today

but he already knows that

“can i tell you a story?” mingi isn’t really asking you

without waiting for a response he knows you can’t give, he starts to talk

“i don’t think i’ve told you about the time when yunho and i went skinny-dipping at night. i swear we saw the kraken that night”

he has told you this story before

more times than you can count on your fingers and toes combined - to the point where you have some of his exact phrases and expressions memorised

mingi knows he’s told you this story before

but he drones on anyway, adding his usual touches of dramatic flair and exaggerated details - words that he hopes keep you grounded to the spot so that you don’t disappear with the wind

(“did you know that yunho’s chest goes red when he screams in fright?”)

you want to make silly little comments about his silly little story

you want to laugh in harmony with mingi’s own rumbling sounds

except you can’t

it’s like whatever you want to say goes through a paper shredder right before it comes out of your mouth

and mingi knows

but he is willing to take all the time in the world to tape your words back together, shredded piece by shredded piece, until he can make you feel heard and seen

and even if you don’t talk, he is there to do enough talking for the both of you

some things don’t need to be said - he understands either way

because sometimes, healing looks like walking backwards on any progress that’s been made and that’s okay

after all…mingi’s been there before, too

the arriba sets sail again and hongjoong allows the crew one last night of rest before your usual duties resume

the stock of fresh produce and meat won’t last for longer than a couple of days anyway, so you all feast your stomach’s fill of food and alcohol

someone brings out an accordion and you all gather together on the upper deck as jongho sings to the music, background filled with the lively rattling of shared plates and mugs being passed around

the air is chilly but it’s crisp and fresh whenever you take a breath of it into your lungs

where being with the multitude of your crew usually makes you feel lonely, tonight, it feels okay

and from beside you, mingi sings along quietly to the music

his voice is not like jongho’s, which is soulful, emotional and powerful

mingi’s voice is deep, honest and raw as he sings the lyrics to the song of a man who is drowning and yearning to be saved

he looks at you during the last bridge, when the key changes from sorrowful to hopeful and the words tell of a man who is saved by his lover

you smile back at him, genuinely content in this moment

and even if it is only briefly, even if you will still have bad days in the future, you think that today is a good day

because healing takes form in all different ways, and being loved is one of them

maybe one day, mingi will be able to confess that he loves you

when he’s confident that you’ll be able to accept his love

not in the way where he expects you to reciprocate the same feelings for him, no

but in the way where you are able to accept the fact that you are worthy of being loved

there are no medical diagrams, procedures or journals that teach you how to heal your own hurt

but you have mingi and he is making one for you

it’s written with the ink of love on the very pages of his own heart and he will not stop writing until the day you are well and truly happy

and even if it takes forever?

well

mingi’s got a huge fucking heart

and it’s all yours

wooyoung

pov: you find a stowaway on your ship

“we’re headed off course again”

“again?” you look at your helmsman with furrowed brows

yunho nods, sighing out his next words, “i can’t get a read on north. the needle keeps flickering”

you look at the compass that’s mounted at the helm and true to his words, the tip of the arrow seesaws back and forth over the cardinal point

a quick glance down tells you that the newer compass you’ve got in your pocket is also behaving in the same manner, needle twitching despite the practised steadiness of your hands

so you know for sure that it’s not a fault in the instrument at the helm itself

but even if it were to be faulty, you would never replace it

not when it’s one of the only things you have remaining of your parents after they perished at sea

“maybe we should ask him,” yunho suggests, beckoning his head towards the deck

although seonghwa hums thoughtfully, having joined you both at the helm mid-conversation, you look at him incredulously

“you trust that person?”

yunho shrugs, “it’s not like he’s given us a reason to not trust him”

well

considering said man had been found stowing away in the cargo five days after your ship had left alcarres, who then also tried to plead for mercy by reasoning that he was ‘valuable’, you think that there’s plenty of reasons to not trust him

yunho rectifies his argument once he sees the pinched expression on your face, “as in, since we’ve found him on board”

you close your eyes and exhale

admittedly, yunho has a point

and there’s been one too many times where the man has flippantly suggested navigational changes or casually observed shifts in the winds and waters - which all turned out to be accurate - for it to be sheer luck

you open your eyes and call out to the upper deck

“stowaway”

yunho winces as seonghwa chides you with a slight elbow to your side at your choice of name, or lack thereof

said man looks at you from where he’s helping san and yeosang swab the deck, mouth tightening with wariness

the last time you had spoken the same word, it was along with an order to throw him into the brig with his wrists bound behind his back

but considering that that was the extent of his punishment for stowing away on your ship and he is now mingling amongst your crew with minimal security measures on your orders too, really, he’s gotten off scot-free

the stowaway approaches the quarterdeck with hesitant steps

you jerk your head towards the helm, “help yunho navigate the rest of the way to vlasgar. just until we can dock and work out what’s wrong with the compasses''

despite the curtness of your order, his face scrunches up into an enthusiastic grin

“of course, captain!”

you’re taken aback by his demeanour because you’re trying to find a reason to distrust him

but he’s not giving it to you

you watch as the stowaway makes himself comfortable against the helm rails and easily slips into conversation and banter with yunho amidst intermittent pointers to adjust the rudder

seonghwa nudges you from behind, “give him a little credit”

you scratch your neck awkwardly before calling out to your helmsman

“keep me updated on the ship’s course”

yunho nods and then you clear your throat, quickly glancing at the stowaway

“and thanks…wooyoung.”

you turn and leave the quarterdeck before you can fully catch a glimpse of the delighted smile the man beams at you

because if he’s not giving you reasons to dislike him, then you’re going to ensure he doesn’t start giving you reasons to like him

except…wooyoung attacks when you least expect it

it’s the night before your crew reaches vlasgar, and true to his claims when he was first discovered onboard, wooyoung has proven his value by navigating your ship through the waters without the aid of the malfunctioning compass

his innate sense for shifts in the wind and waters, combined with his understanding of celestial navigation and use of dead reckoning has meant that he is extraordinarily precise with his route

honestly, he’s freakishly accurate to the point where it’s a little unsettling

at least that’s what you tell yourself

you and hongjoong have given the crew the night off from their usual duties in preparation for a few busy days of maintenance and intel-gathering once your ship docks at vlasgar

wooyoung offers to cook in the galley and whip up a meal as fancy as he can from the select ingredients on board

you don’t have a good reason to deny him, not when the rest of your crew looks at you with eager faces at the thought of a meal that isn’t just the usual salted meat, so you send mingi along to help him locate the ingredients

also to keep an eye on wooyoung to ensure he isn’t using this as an opportunity to poison your crew, but you’re not about to admit that aloud

and that’s exactly when wooyoung chooses to attack

he attacks your heart with his cooking

granted, the standards are rock bottom, but wooyoung utilises a deadly combination of rosemary, thyme and bay leaves to prepare a hearty broth with preserved beef

he serves hardtack on the side to be softened and eaten with the broth, and jongho even manages to catch a few fish that wooyoung then scores and grills with lemon slices over the fire

mingi must also be in good spirits because he takes out the reserve of dried fruits and nuts that he’s usually pedantic over and allows wooyoung to arrange them artfully in a wooden bowl as nibblers to go with the profusion of rum that will inevitably be downed tonight

the impressive spread of food is placed on the upper deck where the entire crew sit in a rough circle together

you take one bite into the beef and curse without realising

“fucking hell, what did he put in this?”

wooyoung freezes mid-spoonful across from you in the circle

realising your words sound petrifying without context, you awkwardly amend them with your eyes glued to your bowl, “i could eat this every day,” before shoving another spoon of broth into your mouth to shut yourself up

there’s a chorus of teasing oooh’s at your words and somebody sing-songs, “captain likes youuu-r cooking”

“i don’t,” you scoff, completely ready to bite the bait and engage in this childish argument

but it’s him who comes to your defence

“it’s not my cooking, it’s just the spices that make a difference,” wooyoung insists

then he’s gesturing to the grilled fish and telling everyone to try, diverting the attention away from you

you accidentally make eye contact with him and initially flicker your eyes away out of embarrassment, but when you chance a peek back at him he’s still looking at you, his expression uncharacteristically calm and gentle when usually all you can hear these days is his raucous laughter bouncing across the deck

…not that you can recognise his laughter or anything

you stare at each other for a few more seconds before you lift up your bowl of beef broth and give him a little smile

you leave it up to him to interpret it however he wants

and just before you look away, you see the apples of his cheeks rounding with elation

wooyoung’s potentially earned himself a few points with his cooking (and perhaps with his unfailing happiness too), but maybe you’re just looking for excuses as to why you’re allowed to like him now

when you decide to take a walk in town long after midnight, your quarters having felt stuffy ever since you’d docked at vlasgar, you’re surprised to find that you’re not the only one still awake

“i’m going out for some air and maybe a drink, did you want to come?”

hongjoong shakes his head, “hwa’s gone out too, i’ll stay behind”

you pause, wondering whether it’d be rude if you didn’t extend the invitation to wooyoung, considering he’s literally two feet away

“what about you?” you end up offering

wooyoung excitedly hops up to his feet, “yeah, i’ll come with”

to your own surprise, you find that you’re not particularly disappointed by his response

the streets of vlasgar are empty, considering the late hour, and your leather shoes clack in unison against the cobblestones as you walk together

you’re not really sure what to say to fill the silence but wooyoung easily talks about anything and everything and you’re content to just listen

your feet eventually take you towards a small alehouse and you both settle down at one of the tables further away from the live music playing

the oil lamps flicker dimly along the wall, casting small dancing shadows on the surface of your mugs of ale

“my father never liked the taste of ale,” wooyoung suddenly muses after a swallow

you note the use of past tense

“is he…still around?” you ask tentatively

he makes a noise of refutation, the quietest he’s been tonight, before he reveals, “he took his own life”

“oh, wooyoung,” you breathe out

he curls his hands around his mug, “it’s already been two years, but it still hurts”

in a moment of empathy, you gently place your hand over his

your tone is bitter when you reply, “time doesn’t mean that it hurts any less, it just gets easier to pretend that it doesn’t”

he looks up at you, surprised by the touch of your hand but also by the sorrow reflected in your eyes

“have you also lost somebody?”

you nod at his question

“my parents,” you hesitate before adding, “their ship got swept under a rogue wave, the same night it turned into a tidal wave that destroyed the city of light”

wooyoung looks at you with wide eyes, “the one along the north coast? six- no, seven years ago?”

there’s not a single person who doesn’t know about it; when an apocalyptic wave had wiped out an entire city overnight

he places his other hand over yours when you nod again, creating a sandwich of comforting hands in the shared experience of loss and grief

you smile wistfully and he returns it

“well now that we’ve exchanged childhood trauma, care to tell me the real reason why you were on my ship, stowaway?” you half-joke

wooyoung laughs, each breath a pronounced cackle of joy, and you find the corners of your lips pulling themselves upwards too

“i’m being chased by a lunatic who’s out for my blood,” he deadpans

“that would have been nice to know before i let you join my crew”

wooyoung grins wickedly, “i’m part of your crew?”

“i’m definitely rethinking it,” you banter before you add on seriously, “only if you want to be”

he pulls his hands back to salute you loudly, “it would be my honour to be your human compass! jung wooyoung at your crew’s service!”

“shut the fuck up!” you hiss in embarrassment, but there’s no bite to your words and you’re laughing into your own hands

you tip back the remains of your ale and then beckon to wooyoung, “let’s head back, shall we?”

“yeah,” he gives you a dazzling smile

he pushes his chair back to stand up and you head towards the doors together

just as you walk past one of the tables, a man abruptly stands up and knocks into wooyoung’s shoulder harshly

your hand flies out to steady him as the man stares at wooyoung, then turns to leave without another word

“what’s his problem,” you mutter angrily. “are you okay?”

wooyoung reassures you with a placating squeeze to your arm before leading you out of the alehouse

as you retrace your steps back to the ship, you pass by a rickety stall that makes you falter

the wood of the table is rotting and standing on its last legs and there’s a roughly thatched roof propped up above its goods

even though the stall is enshrouded by the shadows of the clouded moonlight, you still wonder how you missed it on your way to the alehouse, considering it’s the only stall along the empty street, and with a vendor, no less

there’s an old woman bearing the burdens of living across her skin and in her posture, sitting hunched on an equally as weathered crate beside the table

you’re drawn towards it - by its ambience, seller or the familiar instruments lain on the table, you don’t know

the woman’s head is covered by a dusty shawl but you don’t miss the way her eyes bore beadily into wooyoung as you both approach

you reach out and skim your fingertips across the cool brass of the compasses on the table

a frown adorns your face when you notice there’s something strange about all of them

like the compass in your own pocket and the one mounted on your ship’s helm, the needles all swing indecisively over the north point, as if some unknown force is meddling with the magnetic field of the earth itself

you let out a little scoff of disbelief, “they’re all useless”

with a final glance at the table, you and wooyoung start to walk off

but then a raspy voice beckons at your backs, a ghost of a hand that tickles the hair on the nape of your necks, “the only time a compass is useless is when you have something better nearby”

unable to ignore the sensation, you look over your shoulder, “what do you mean by something better?”

a toothless smile; one that appears to know a secret that it doesn’t want to let you in on

“true north”

her cryptic answer alone is enough to tell you that you’re wasting your time

she doesn’t say anything else when you walk off for good this time after bidding her a tight-smiled farewell, not that you would have stopped either way if she did

wooyoung hurries to catch up to you

as he falls into step with you, he asks, “do you believe what she’s saying?”

“of course not, it doesn’t make any sense,” you glance at the tavern you’re walking past, telling you that the port is close now. “how can you have true north?”

wooyoung’s brows knit together, “well, there’s that old legend that says true north isn’t actually a direction, but a-”

he’s cut off by an amused voice behind you both

“so it really is you…jung wooyoung”

when you turn around, you’re met with the sight of a man donning a long, velvet coat and buckled shoes - articles of clothing very obviously pirated from the wealthy

it’s evident that he and wooyoung are acquainted in one way or another, but from the way wooyoung’s face loses its colour, they’re acquainted in a bad way

immediately, your hackles are raised

the man’s tone is saccharine as he continues, “when one of my men said that they had spotted you, i didn’t believe him”

“what do you want?” you snarl at the same time wooyoung murmurs next to you, “it’s the lunatic. jang hyunsoo”

hyunsoo cocks his head as he stares you dead in the eye, “i want him. dead.”

your face darkens, unwilling to back down, “and why are you so intent on killing him?”

“oh?” he raises an eyebrow in delight at your answer. “you must not know who he truly is”

sick of his bullshit, you reach down towards your belt to unsheath a throwing dagger and hold it in front of your body, “i don’t care who the fuck he is. he’s my crew member and that’s all that ma-”

“he’s the man that the legends speak of. blessed by the sea gods, bearer of the oceans’ wisdom - jung wooyoung is true north”

those two words again

you don’t understand why everyone you come across today seems to be so fixated on the idea of…

suddenly, you remember.

legends tell a story of true north - not a direction pointing to the earth’s axis, but a person

a man blessed by the gods of the sea with the power to be all-knowing when it comes to the waters

he possesses the innate ability to navigate without use of any instruments or celestial bodies; the wisdom of which passageways and courses to sail; the subconscious understanding of mother nature and her elements

the powers are passed down through his bloodline for generations, but the blessing does not stay sacred for long

human greed and coveting eventually lead to the murder of the bearer of true north at the time, and the powers are transferred to the murderer, permanently staining the bloodline and commencing the paradoxical cycle of sinning for a blessing

however, this does not go unpunished

the gods of the sea are enraged and in their uncontainable wrath they cause-

your memory ends there no matter how hard you try to recall the rest of the legend

wooyoung interrupts

“if you kill me, there’s no guarantee you’ll survive the consequences,” he tries to reason with the other. “just have a look at how close we are to sea”

you’re lost but hyunsoo sneers, “it’s not your power that i’m hungry for. it’s only fair that i spill your blood, after your father spilled the blood of my family”

at the mention of his father, wooyoung growls, “what the fuck do you think you’re saying”

“how do you think your father became true north? or better yet, let me jog your memory,” hyunsoo’s expression becomes hauntingly blank, “what happened seven years ago that wiped out a whole city because the sea gods had been angered?”

your breath hitches as you involuntarily whisper, the remaining piece of the puzzle slotting into memory, “...a tidal wave”

“yes,” he acknowledges your words but keeps his eyes drilling into wooyoung, “because true north - my father - was killed”

as were your parents by extension of the consequences

“killed by my father,” wooyoung concludes, voice frail as everything rapidly starts to reveal itself

one more revelation makes him look at you with a face of horror and remorse, “y/n…your parents…”

without hesitation, you push aside your own anguish for him

“wooyoung,” you warn, “it’s not your fault”

because you see it

the very moment his eyes start clouding over as he willingly takes on the burden of guilt wrongfully left behind by his deceased father - the same guilt that eventually took the man’s own life

wooyoung, who, with a heart and soul too pure, would rather take the blame himself than to push it onto somebody else

you step in front of him, knife raised in protection

because despite your best efforts, wooyoung had not only secretly stowed himself away on your ship but has also secretly stowed himself away in your heart

“what are you doing?” he tries to tug you behind him

there’s a teasing lilt in your voice as you stand steadfast, “stowaway, you’ve ruined navigating for me now - made it too easy for me and the crew. so you better fuckin’ take responsibility and be my compass for as long as i sail”

“how touching,” hyunsoo coos patronisingly before he draws the cutlass from his sheath, “looks like i’ll just have to kill the both of you”

you don’t stop wooyoung this time from stepping up to stand by your side, his own hands armed with dual daggers and his demeanour now iron-willed to fight

because if you’re prepared to fight for him, then wooyoung is prepared to fight twice as hard for you

tonight, either hyunsoo dies, or you both go down trying

the tension in the air is punctuated only by the slight scrape of your soles as you and wooyoung lower your stances and shift further onto your front feet

you had never believed in the sea gods until now, but you pray that they’re watching over you both

and indeed they are

they answer your prayers in the form of a deafening gunshot in the nearby tavern

hyunsoo flinches at the sudden commotion - only slightly, but the distraction in attentiveness is more than enough

now.

as you and wooyoung leap forward together in unison, weapons raised, the needles in your hearts’ compasses waver for one final time before they settle and point resolutely in one direction

your needle at wooyoung; wooyoung’s needle at you

because compasses will always point at true north and that’s exactly what you are to him and him to you

each other’s true north

jongho

pov: you're a mermaid who saves him

you follow the shadow of the ship’s hull, gliding effortlessly through the waters

you know that you shouldn’t be following so closely but it’s hard to refuse the temptation that comes hand in hand with storms

there’s a chance that vessels will toss cargo overboard as a last-ditch effort to save their ship from sinking

and if you’re really lucky, the vessel might sink entirely and you’ll be able to spend the next few days rummaging its ruins, scavenging for shiny treasures and intriguing objects

besides, what’s the worst that could happen?

no sailor or pirate in their right mind would think to cast a fishing net in this weather

you only have your carelessness and recklessness to blame, but regret won’t change anything about your current situation

you feel the strange lurch in your stomach as the fishing net you’re trapped inside is pulled out of the water, up along the side of the ship’s hull, until it levels with the gunwale

there’s someone standing there waiting

his face is still rounded and limbs still gangly with the telltale signs of youth

the fish around you jerk around desperately, a physical manifestation of your terror, while you lock eyes with the young teenager and grip at the net with white-knuckled fists

you are at his complete mercy

he stares in shock at your form, until you beg a single word

“please”

immediately, he draws a small pocket knife and starts to frantically cut through the net

there’s another questioning voice from somewhere on the deck that you can’t make out the words to, but from the way the boy in front of you picks up speed, you’re seconds away from being discovered

“come on, come on, come on,” the boy mutters through gritted teeth

there’s a slight jerk as he cuts through the strands of flax and a few fish slither their way out, the hole starting to become bigger

he lets out a hiss of pain when he accidentally slices through his own hand in his haste

but even then, he does not stop or falter

and then you hear it

the ripping of the material when the weight of yourself and the other fish tear the remainder of the net

you plummet into the ocean

and the last thing you see before the world above becomes blurred by the waters is the boy’s wide eyes peering over the ship’s edge as he watches you fall

jongho struggles to adjust his centre of gravity as the ropes stutter underneath him

he chances letting go of the rigging briefly with one hand so that he can wipe the rain out of his eyes, which is pouring down incessantly and obscuring his vision

overhead, the top sail continues to billow and flap in an angry dance as the rapidly shifting winds tangle it further

he swallows thickly and grips the rigging once again

he needs to climb up and untangle the damned sail, fast

one hand extending outwards to grab the running rigging, jongho supports himself on shaky legs so that he can unfurl the twisted edges of the sail from around the ropes

it’s difficult enough having to chase the mocking flits of the canvas in the gale, but it’s fucking hellish with the added lurching and pitching of the ship as it’s battered by the swells of the sea

he finally manages to get a good grip on the sail and tugs hard, feeling it give way and flush full as it catches the wind properly now that it’s free

except the force of it sends the material swelling right in his face and he slips

by some saving grace, the combined movement of another colossal wave sends his body careening through the air in a wide arch

he does not land on the upper deck in a heap of broken bones

instead, he plummets into the ocean

and the last thing jongho sees before he loses consciousness is the shimmer and flick of a tail

your body reacts instantaneously to the sudden intrusion of something plunging into the waters in front of you, your tail swishing to increase your distance

for a brief second your heart seizes up in fright at the thought of a harpoon

but then you see it - see him

apart from the young teen who had freed you years ago, you have never seen a human up close before

and certainly not one in the ocean; in your home

there is something about the man before you that is beautiful yet haunting

it is as if time and gravity have warped his very existence

you see a weak flail of legs, a desperate hand reaching for the surface, floating tendrils of hair, but even in the face of approaching death, his movements appear slow and graceful in the water

as the pockets of air and bubbles of foam dissipate from around him and cruelly escape upwards without him, the man stills - grand and slow as his form steadily starts to make a descent towards the sandy bottom of the ocean

in folklore amongst your merpeople, humans are as swift, sure and savage on land as they are aboard their monstrous vessels

and yet, watching the ethereal existence of this man before you, you realise that once humans are underwater, they are at the complete mercy of mother nature and her beings

you gingerly swim closer

when you wrap your arm around the man’s limp body, his skin is warm under your fingertips

you’re reminded of the fact that he is at your complete mercy

and so you swim.

the moment jongho regains consciousness, his chest involuntarily contracts in an attempt to take a huge, stuttering breath

he curls onto his side instead, one hand scrabbling in the wet sand and his other arm crushed between the ground and his upper body as he hacks up his lungs with retching motions

the salt water burns even more coming back up than it did going down and his eyes sting with tears

when the convulsions cease, jongho closes his eyes and rests his forehead against the cool sand, trying to regain his breath-

and bearings

the jarring clarity has him sitting up abruptly as he tries to recall where he is and what he’s doing

there was the storm

the tangled sail

him climbing up the riggings

falling down, down, down

and then…

you

your eyes widen when the man’s unfocused gaze suddenly sweeps the waters and lands on the small part of your face that is exposed and peering at him

instinctively, you duck underwater, the notion of hiding your existence from humans ingrained into you

but even though he only sees a glimpse of you, jongho would recognise you from anywhere

it’s hard to forget when he’s kept his eyes peeled on the waters since that day, hoping to see you once again

he can’t believe that the mermaid he once saved would end up being his saviour

but he guesses that’s what people call fate - an alignment of miracles

he glances around at his surroundings to find himself in the safety of a small cove

you dare to emerge your curious eyes again when you see the form of the man stand up with his gaze on the sand, seemingly in search of something

he fumbles along the edge of the coast, reaching down several times to grasp things too small for you to discern

it seems that he becomes satisfied with what he has found, because he then sets them all down in the wet sand - right where the tide kisses the shore in a teasing game of chase - and takes several steps backwards so that he is no longer close to the waters

the man scratches the back of his head as he gestures vaguely to the pile, appearing to want to say something before thinking better of it and turning around to pick at the driftwood further inland

you wait, trying to gauge his actions

but when it becomes clear to you that he is not attempting to catch you off guard, you cautiously swim closer to shore

you are able to rest your forearms comfortably on the shoreline’s sand from how close you get

and then you see it

a small pile of glossy pebbles and patterned shells

a peace offering of pretty things he could find that he thought you might like

you duck under the water again, but this time to hide your shy smile as opposed to an act of instinctual self-preservation

jongho looks at the hefty pile of dried wood that he has gathered in the meantime, deeming it enough to keep a fire going for the inevitable night he will have to spend at the cove

he’s tried his hardest not to look out to the waters, wanting to gain your trust

but he can’t help it this time when his eyes are drawn to the little mound of his sincerity in the sand

…only to find it untouched, and you nowhere to be seen

he tries not to feel disappointed

after all, you have no reason to trust him

so he sets his mind on starting a fire before the sun sets completely instead, trying to ignore the growing dryness in his throat

when he finally nurses a spark into a flame an hour later, jongho almost misses it in his fatigued state

but it’s unmistakable when he walks closer

gone is his own pile of pebbles and shells

in its stead is a jumbled collection of broken combs, rusted locks and a glass bottle

a peace offering of peculiar things you had found that you thought he might need

jongho doesn’t know it, but as he bends down to carefully gather every gift and safekeep them closer to his fire, he is not the only one with a bashful smile on his face

you tell yourself it’s purely curiosity and displaced familiarity that makes you linger and return to the cove the very next morning

you’re well aware what the risks are if you fall in love with a human

how many stories have you heard of mermaids and mermen alike, falling for a human, only for their love to be unilateral or rejected?

their tails slowly lose their lustre as gradual paralysis takes over until they lose complete control

quite literally drowning within their own body, they eventually sink to the bottom of the ocean to perish with the decaying wreckages of sunken ships…

and the countless corpses of sailors, pirates and other unfortunate souls alike

it’s ironic

no matter how much folklore makes out humans and merpeople to be different, you all end up the same in the face of death; buried in the soil of the earth or buried in the sand of the ocean bottom

side by side

jongho stands in that very ocean right now, sleeves and pants rolled up to keep them as dry as possible as he crouches over with the water up to his thighs

he would try to fashion a fishing hook or harpoon of some sort, but with the possibility that you may be close by in the waters, he doesn’t want to risk using anything that could hurt you

so he resorts to using his bare hands

you’ve been watching from the safety of the water for well over half an hour now, curious and slightly endeared by his clumsy attempts to grab at something

you’re not sure what, but you can see the fish as they dart teasingly through his legs and from out of his reach

for beings that are supposedly apex predators, this human doesn’t seem intimidating at all

so, very cautiously, you swim up closer to him

jongho feels himself freezing at the sight of you approaching - not because he’s afraid of you, but because he’s afraid he’ll scare you away

he holds his breath as you hesitate and linger just out of his reach, then swim up and bump his leg playfully with your tail as you circle around him once

he’s reminded of a puppy wanting to sniff out somebody unfamiliar and his eyes follow your form with rounded fondness

“hi,” he breathes out softly, “i’m jongho”

your tail swishes with sudden movement, splashing him with water and he giggles

you can hear it clearly even from under water and your heart nearly stops

if this man - if jongho - was a siren, the sounds of his happiness would be his song of calling

you want to hear it again

jongho sucks in a breath when you dare to emerge from the water’s surface, presenting him with a fish held carefully between your lips and one more in each of your hands

he’s a little dumbfounded at how easily you managed to catch them as he gently takes the one from in between your teeth

the still-flailing fish in his hands is peppered with two tiny neat rows of puncture holes where you had carefully bitten into it

he finds it so fucking cute, especially when you continue to peer up at him with expectant eyes, wanting to know if it was the fish that he was trying to catch this whole time

he wants to thank you, and not just for the fish

so he fumbles through his words when he asks, “would you like to eat with me? unless…” he trails off, “unless you don’t eat fish because…”

are mermaids technically fish?

did he really just offer you the mermaid equivalent of human flesh to eat?

before jongho can panic and try to salvage the situation, you give him a shy smile and nod

jongho makes a fire as close to the shore as possible without the wood at risk of becoming wet

as he spears the fish onto sticks so that he can hold them over the flames, you gather the courage to slide out of the shallow waters so that you can lay on the damp sand closer to him

whilst you can for short periods, you rarely ever fully emerge out of the waters because you leave yourself vulnerable without the full mobility of your body

but jongho makes you feel safe enough to do so

and he must at least partially recognise the amount of trust you are placing in him because he looks at you in awe, the unveiled beauty of your tail now in full display

your scales are a kaleidoscope of cerulean, mauve and periwinkle, reflecting onto the sand below you in a magical dance with each of your slight movements

he notices that the gradient peters out into shades of salmon and coral the closer the scales are to your waist and he cannot tear his eyes away from you

jongho thinks to himself that you were created by the hands of the sea god, who then named the word beautiful after you

and even then, the word does not seem to do you justice

“why are you staring?”

your voice is simultaneously bashful and teasing, yet jongho is utterly mortified that your first words to him are ones exposing his smitten behaviour

his brain kickstarts in panic and he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind

“if your tail gets too close to fire, will you start smelling like grilled fish?”

for a split second, your expression contorts into one of pure horror, before the absurdity of his question breaks down the remainder of your reservations and you lose yourself in laughter

a pretty blush settles over the round of jongho’s cheeks and then he is also laughing with you

together, where the land and sea unite, the sounds of your shared happiness fill the air

his song of calling chimes melodiously in your heart even as you swim away for the night

but the dangerous thing about a siren’s song is that you don’t realise you’ve become captivated…

until it’s too late

you’re looking down at the object in your hands as you swim for the cove

it’s cream-coloured and smooth to touch, with several blunt tips extending from one side

you’ve always wondered what it is and so you decide to see if jongho will know

you don’t notice the large rock formation jutting out of the seabed until it’s almost right in front of you and at the last second, you flex your tail to manoeuvre yourself around it

except you must miscalculate your distance because you end up grazing yourself on the sharp edges of the rock

it doesn’t puncture your scales but it certainly catches you off guard - your organs and senses work in a way that ensures you never collide into anything so long as you are underwater

so then, why?

you look down and your heart drops

tentatively, you spin around once, eyes never leaving their focus

you realise it’s not a trick of the lighting or the water

your scales have started to lose their shimmer

jongho is beginning to think that you won’t show up today when you finally do, one of your treasures cradled in your hands and a smile on your face that doesn’t quite reach your eyes

(you weren’t going to show up, not after realising that you need to stop yourself from falling further in love with jongho if you want to live, but you decide to be selfish one last time and say goodbye, even if you’re the only one who knows it’s a goodbye)

“what’s that?” he gestures towards your hands with his chin as you slide your upper body out of the shallow waters, leaving your tail to be submerged when the waves come in

you uncurl your fingers with a shrug

“it’s a comb,” he answers his own question as he turns it over in his hand, “made out of animal bone, i think”

you look at him curiously as he sits down, unbothered about wetting his clothes, and you ask, “what’s a comb?”

jongho brings it up to his head and pretends to move it up and down

“you run it through your hair to untangle it”

he pauses as his eyes flicker to your hair then back to your face

“i can…show you how to use it…if you want?” he offers

just once, you’ll allow yourself to get close to him just this once

when you nod and sit up, jongho shifts himself so that he is behind you

you try not to shiver when you feel the heat of his chest enveloping your back as he reaches forward to gently gather the hair from around your face and neck

he steadies your head with one of his hands, the other bringing the teeth of the comb through the slight waves of your hair

his touch is soft and loving in the way he tries not to tug too hard when he encounters a knot

his fingertips skim against you intimately but with an innocence that betrays the fact that he has never brushed somebody’s hair before

you feel your shoulders relaxing into his touch and your eyes close, blissfully - and perhaps deliberately - ignorant to the fading radiance of your body

“are you feeling okay?” jongho’s voice sounds even more alluring when it’s right next to your ear and you can’t help but shudder this time. “you seem paler than usual”

he brings a hand down to your waist and turns you towards him so that he can see you better

you try to formulate an answer, “i…”

i think i’m in love with you

of course, you would never tell him that

but before you can tell him that you’re fine, you become distracted by the glimpse of something on his hand that’s still resting on your waist

a scar

“is that- how did you get this?”

you run your thumb lightly over the taut, white line that runs from his wrist to the knuckle of his index finger

as you’re suddenly reminded of the familiar memory of a teenager with rounded cheeks and gangly limbs, the man beside you with those very same eyes looks at you fondly

“i cut myself trying to free a mermaid from a fishing net”

your gaze is unfocused as you process the information

the effects of the shattering revelation are immediate and a terrifying numbness starts to creep up your tail

because what you didn’t know - what nobody in folklore knew - was that the effects of paralysis and onset of death are accelerated when you fall in love with someone again for the second time

years ago, your heart had been claimed by the young man who had freed you at his own expense

you had managed to survive the heartbreak due to the briefness of your encounter, your paralysis fading and tail regaining its beauty when you never saw him again

but the effects of your unilateral love have not vanished entirely as you and your merpeople have believed it to

they have simply lay dormant like a disease, waiting for the right time to resurface when your feelings are rekindled

and so now it snowballs and gains traction at a speed that cannot be stopped, racing to catch up on the numerous years that you have cheated death where you thought you did not love jongho

“why is your tail turning grey?” the voice of the man you love is pinched with muted panic

you never thought you would ever be afraid of your own tail; your own body

yet, when you look down to see the monochrome advancing up each layer of your scales, you are absolutely petrified

your tail is starting to look like a stone statue and you know it won’t be long until that’s exactly what you become - motionless and unmoving

“y/n! why is your tail grey?!” jongho repeats with a shout, in full blown panic due to your lack of response

you can’t- won’t die in front of him

your lower body is almost deadweight with immobility and you bite back tears as you’re forced to crawl pathetically towards the water with your arms

jongho scrabbles to his feet as he hovers next to you, hands wanting to help but not quite touching you because he’s not sure what’s happening and he doesn’t know what he can do for you and you look like you’re in pain but he doesn’t know why-

“don’t!” you bark out sharply

he freezes in shock

you’re frightened and angry and you want to yell at something, someone, but…

you could never yell at jongho

with a much softer, albeit shaky voice, you tell him, “don’t look for me”

and before you can hear the pained noise that escapes jongho’s lips, you drag yourself back into the water

except a few metres after you’ve submerge yourself, the unthinkable happens

you. cannot. breathe.

you’re drowning.

jongho doesn’t care if you’ll hate him forever, doesn’t care if this is the last time you’ll choose to see him, but he will not just stand and watch when it looks like you are leaving to die alone

his body moves with the decisions of his heart before his mind tells him otherwise

he dives into the water after you

the world distorts around him; a moment of weightlessness as the waters easily shift to accommodate his body; the bubbling sound of air pockets reverberating inside his very skull; the shock of cold that overrides every other bodily sense

jongho forces his eyes open with numerous blinks until he can see you

your form is eerily still, and yet, you remain bewitching

he kicks his legs desperately with one arm outstretched and as soon as you are within reach, he tugs you into his chest

you’re limp to touch, lips slack and parted as if the very essence of your soul is escaping through your mouth

jongho will not let you die

lungs starting to burn and heartbeat pounding in his ears, he presses his lips against yours

a kiss of life- 

he closes his eyes

-and love

but you don’t respond

jongho ignores his instincts even as his body screams to part from you and kick upwards for a breath

instead, he moves his jaws to kiss you even harder

and then he feels it

he almost sobs into you when your lips twitch weakly against his

with renewed vigour, you’re sealing your mouth around his bottom lip as you respond, capturing him in a real kiss

below your joined lips, your scales start to bloom with their full brilliance once again

your tail shimmers brighter than before, reflecting intricate patterns of fractals with each slight ripple of the water as you open your eyes to the sight of jongho’s face, beautifully swathed in the incandescence of the rainbow

you can move again

you flick your tail, jongho’s arms still firmly around your waist and you both burst upwards, breaking the water’s surface with spluttering breaths

he desperately treads you both backwards towards the shore even though you can easily hold your own now

“jongho, you-”

he takes one look at you before he cuts your words off and plunges himself back underwater, stunning you into stupor, until he re-emerges with another splutter

“your tail!” he yells with overwhelming relief, face still scrunched as he tries to sweep his fringe up and wipe the water from out of his eyes

“yeah…” voice muted as you process the fact that you’re still alive, “my tail…”

“fuck, you scared me”

jongho’s eyes are bloodshot as they stare into yours, and you know for a fact that they aren’t just red from the irritation of salt water

you bring up a hand to rest it on his chest, right where his heart still thumps rapidly under your touch, and you apologise with a small smile, “sorry…i scared me, too”

he huffs a little before looking at you earnestly

“don’t ever do that again”

the water is now shallow enough that jongho can stand, but it’s deep enough that you can still drift effortlessly

it’s the perfect harmony where land and sea unite; where a human and a mermaid interact

where you, the enchanter, and jongho, the enchanted, find a balance of love

“i won’t,” you promise

on land, humans tell a story of a mermaid who falls in love with a man

a mermaid who is ready to give up her voice in exchange for her happily ever after

but in the sea, merpeople tell a story of a man who falls in love with a mermaid

a man who is ready to give up his life in exchange for his happily ever after

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#loren writes #ateez fics #ateez fic #ateez x reader #san x reader #san scenarios #mingi x reader #mingi scenarios #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung scenarios #jongho x reader #jongho scenarios #ateez ot8 x reader #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez headcanons #ateez au #pirate ateez #pirate!ateez #pirateez

[clockwayswrites]

*writes 800+ words of Another Red but not the part I'm supposed to*

Jason breathed in the heavy clove scented smoke, taking comfort in it. He didn’t smoke often anymore, but if Bruce and Alfred hadn’t gotten him to stop, he didn’t think he ever would. Somethings were just too much part of a person. The smoke swirled up into the night air, caught in the constant breeze a harbor city like Gotham had.

“You don’t have to do this kid, put yourself in danger like this.”

“No, I do,” Rabbit bit out. Jason was pretty sure if he could see the kid’s teeth, they would be bared in a feral smile. “What I can’t do is let people get hurt when I can go and help them.”

“Yeah, and what about your safety? You could die.”

Rabbit laughed like that was some sort of big joke and Jason felt himself bristling at the reaction. Jason knew how dangerous this was— more than anyone else in his family. He’d felt that fear and pain and—

“Yeah, well, Hood, sorta too late for that.”

Jason’s anger left him so suddenly that he felt cold in it’s absence. No—

“Do you know, it’s not the death itself that’s bad,” Rabbit drawled, almost lazily. He finally lit his gifted cigarette. He didn’t take his mask off, like Jason had hoped he would, but ducked his head down and pushed the mask up just enough to take a slow drag. He looked so small like that, hunched over on himself with the bright ember dangling from his fingertips. “The body stopping everything… it’s sorta of quiet. All those functions we don’t think about going on all the time— breath’n and blink’n and beat’n… it’s quite without all that going on. Nah, it’s not the actually dy’n that’s so bad, it’s the fear that comes with it.”

“Yeah.” The admission almost hurt Jason to choke out.

“Yeah,” Rabbit agreed. He took another drag from the cigarette. His free hand was curled over his head, likely to keep his face hidden from Jason, but it just made Rabbit look all the more like a scared kit. “And that fucking fear? That worst part? I live with that all the fucking time, Hood, so nah, I’m not so ‘fraid of dy’n‘gain.”

“At least let me help you avoid it,” Jason said. He didn’t mean to plead but fuck if he wasn’t.

Rabbit snorted and took one more drag before he snuffed out his cig and stood. “Yeah? And how do you plan to do that?”

All traces of the drawling accent was gone and that hint of Gotham was back in Rabbit’s voice.

Jason wondered which was more real.

He reached into his belt instead of pressing the matter— instead of pressing the accent or take on death or talking Rabbit out of this life. Jason knew in every shattered bone of his that it wouldn’t do any good. This life already had the kid by the neck and there was nothing to do about it. It would choke Rabbit out one way or another, just like the rest of them.

The red fob was innocuous against his glove, could hardly even see it in the dim, yellow light of th Narrows. Red on red on red—

“Take it.”

Rabbit didn’t.

“What is it?” he asked instead, leaning forward just a little.

“A panic button.”

Rabbit snorted and flicked the remains of the cigarette at Jason. “I’m not taking a fucking tracker.”

“It’s not a tracker until you activate it. You press and hold the button on each side for two seconds and only if you do that is it a tracker. I can’t activate it remotely on my end or anything,” Jason said. “It’s the same one I give some street kids and sex workers. There’s nothing special about it, it’s just a tracker.”

Rabbit watched Jason with an eerie stillness. “Swear it.”

“I swear, it’s just a panic button. It’s only a track if you turn it on.”

Rabbit still didn’t move. Jason sighed and started to pull his hand back before Rabbit darted forward and grabbed the panic button. The little fucker was quick.

“I won’t press it just for anything,” Rabbit said with a defiant jut of his chin.

“Wouldn’t expect you too,” Jason said with an honest, easy shrug.

Rabbit watched a moment longer before he pulled out a keyring without any keys and put the button in. It hung between a battered food shelter tag and a library barcode that Jason was sure was counterfeit.

“Yeah, whatever. Now go on and get, Hood. Don’t you have a whole city to look after?”

“Fucker,” Jason said fondly and stamped his own cigarette out before he tucked the butt away in a pouch slot. The small part of him that was still very much a Bat wanted to do the same with Rabbit’s so he could try and pull some DNA. Instead he flicked Rabbit off and leapt off the roof to the kid’s laughter.

#another red #dp x dc #batpham

[mattsturnioloscasket]

“CAR CRASH?” (M. Sturniolo)

in which: matts girlfriend takes his new car out for the first time and gets in an accident

———————————————————————————————————

matt, chris, nick, and y/n were currently watching a movie in the living room. none of them had moved since the morning, and none of them wanted to.

“i want food.” chris was the first one to speak up. everyone’s head shoots toward him.

matt shakes his head. “fuck that i’m not leaving, it’s raining.”

“i’ll go.” y/n speaks up. matt groans.

“i mean canes sounds really good right now.” nick spoke. matt rolls his eyes.

“alright i’ll go.” y/n stands up for the first time, cracking her back. chris face distortions in disgust at the noise.

“text me what you guys want, alright?” matt stands up, as his girlfriend begins to slip on her shoes. he grabs her hand and opens it, placing his credit card and his new tahoe’s car keys.

“be careful, it’s raining really bad out there. and if i found out you used your card to pay i’ll throw my entire meal at you.” matt hold her face in his hands as he speaks. her eyes widen as she giggles, reaching up and pecking his lips.

“Alright text me what you guys want!” she calls, before walking out of the door.

it was silent when she walked out. the room felt more awkward without her and her laugh. matt sighs, throwing himself back onto the couch.

“i miss my girlfriend.”

“she just left dumbfuck!”

———————————————————————————

“I USED TO HAVE A GIRL A DAY, BUT I WANT YOU TO STAY!” y/n sings her favorite song. she is cut off by a text on her phone, it was from nick. he was saying what everyone had wanted. her attention focuses on the screen in front of her as she giggles at the fact that chris had ordered the most. 2 combo boxes.

the rain gets harder, so y/n immediately shuts off her phone, throwing it into the passenger seat. she turns on her right signal, ready to turn. she begins to turn as she holds on the steering wheel tightly.

suddenly, a truck next to her, which had also tried to turn, hits the side of matt’s car. the impact of the large truck against the tahoe sent the car flying to the side.

y/n screams as her car begins to flip into a nearby ditch. she prays to herself, sobbing. she couldn’t die like this. who wanted to die while trying to get raising canes?

the car finally stops, it was on its side. the drives side facing up. y/n let’s out a loud sob, reaching for her phone to call matt. she grabs her phone, finding it on her lap. her air bag suddenly pops in her face. y/n screams, shoving her air bag back down. her hands shake as she presses matt’s contact.

“yes, baby?” “MATT!” y/n screams, letting out a sob. tears hit her arm as she cries louder. her arms had many shards of glass in them.

“y/n? y/n what’s wrong?” matt grows confused and scared on the other end. “i-i- car c-c-rash.” she seriously could not breath. “the ambulance is on the way, i’m coming.” y/n sobs, hanging up on matt.

“y/n? y/n?!” matt calls from the other end. he pulls the phone away from his ear to see that she hung up. “fuck!” he screams, standing up and running to the door. “matt, what happened?” nick asks, chris and him also now standing up. matt ignores them, grabbing his van keys and rushing out to the car.

———————————————————————————

y/n sits in the back of the ambulance, sniffling. it was 49 degrees out, and she was wearing shorts and matt’s t shirt, so she was freezing. the nurse had picked the shards of glass out of y/n’s arm, and was currently wrapping it. suddenly, matt’s van speeds in. y/n moves to get a better look. the nurse stands up, finishing her wrapping.

matt runs out of the van, and toward his girlfriend. he makes it to her, pulling her into a tight hug. she hugs back, very tense and shaky. “please tell me your okay.” matt begs. he lets out shaky breaths.

“oh god.” y/n finally croaks out, sobbing loudly into his chest. “y/n, y/n, y/n, it’s okay, baby, it’s okay, it’s okay!” matt repeats, holding her tighter.

“i’m sorry matt.” she cries. matt shakes his head. “it’s okay, it’s okay! y/n, y/n, it means…” matt trails off. “i’m so sorry matt!” she sobs, louder into his chest. “baby, it’s means nothing to me. it’s nothing. it means nothing.” matt states, holding her up.

“i cant believe i just did that.” y/n cries, shaking her head. “hey, hey. it means nothing to me, it’s nothing to me.” matt picks her face up from his chest. “it means nothing.” he looks into her eyes. “nothing.” he repeats, pecking her forehead and pulling her back into a tight embrace.

———————————————————————————

LOOK AT MY BABYYYY😓😓

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #madi filipowicz #nathan doe #nate doe #nathan doefluff #jake webber #johnnie guilbert

[houserautha]

These Destined Ends

Part Ten

Summary: Jessica fulfilled the wishes of the Bene Gesserits to produce a daughter. You’re now burdened with the task of not only marrying the na-Baron, but also bearing his child — the Kwisatz Haderach. Will you take your fate into your own hands? Or will it always belong to those who control you?

Pairings: Feyd-Rautha x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: talk of death and dying, grief, reader gets to a pretty bad place, stabbing

A/N: It’s earlyyyyy. If this was a Friends episode, it would be called, “The One Where Reader Loses Her Goddamn Mind”

As a child, Gurney would take you to the seashore to reward you for a particularly good session, whether it be academic or physical training. You used to look forward to these rare occasions. Not only because you loved the sea, but because your beloved mentor would loosen and his scarred face would slip into a semblance of a smile. On this specific day, you remember the sky being impossibly blue and the water still as a puddle.

You had reveled in your good fortune.

Laughing, you had initiated your favorite activity — chasing the waves down the shore then running away as the tide crashed at your heels. The memory of that day invoked a sense of warmth and safety, enveloped by the sunlight and the briny smell of the sea.

You had taken a break from your antics to catch your breath when you noticed dimples forming in the sand whenever the water receded.

You squatted down, sea-sprayed pants rolled to your calves, to inspect your discovery. After a few moments, you realized that snails are causing the dimples, being no longer than your pinky nail and entombed in pastel-colored shells. Delighted, you watched them scurry to bury themselves in the sand before trying to grab one for yourself. You dug fervently in the wet sand, giggling as they slipped out of your still chubby fingers.

Finally, finally, you managed to scoop up a hunk of crumbling sand that hosted one of the tiny snails.

Crying out triumphantly, you hurriedly brushed the sand from its purple-colored shell and then held it up to the sun. The small, nearly translucent creature disappeared into its home. But you didn’t care. You found it and it’s yours. Gurney, sitting in the sand a few feet away, calls, “What did you find?”

You skipped over to him. Slowly uncurling your careful grip, you showed him your treasure.

“It’s a snail,” you had told him enthusiastically, “I caught him in the tide.”

Gurney smiled indulgently at you. “How cunning you are, Lady Y/N.”

You started to dance, nonsensical and without rhyme or reason, the dance of small children so possessed by happiness that you needed to release it somehow. “I’m going to take it home and show Papa,” you said as you spun away, snail clutched to your chest.

Later, Gurney approached you. His feet had been bare and encrusted with sand, face reddened by too much sun. He squinted at you. “Lady Y/N, I must tell you something.”

“Hm?” You had been busy balancing on a piece of driftwood, arms spread out like wings. You had transferred the snail to your pocket after worrying your sweaty palms would lose grip on him.

“You must return your friend to the sea.” When you gazed up at him in disbelief, he ruffled your hair. “It will die if you take it from its home.”

“But…but I love him,” you said with child-like solemnity. Your lower lip jetted out.

Gurney’s smile turned pitying. “I know you do, Lady Y/N. You have a gentle heart. But sometimes, when you love something, you must let it go so it can be happy and safe. You want your snail to be happy, don’t you?”

You paused and considered this, then nodded.

Stepping off the driftwood, you moved a few paces closer to the shoreline and laid the snail lovingly atop it. It wiggled into the sodden sand and vanished as the tide washed over it.

Tears that you were too ashamed to shed burned your eyes, and you sniffed.

“You did the right thing, Lady Y/N,” Gurney had told you, “because of you he will live another day.”

You thought that by journeying to Giedi Prime, by marrying the na-Baron, you would be ensuring the happiness and safety of your family and beloved mentor.

But now, like the tide washing over the snail, they were gone.

At first, you were detached from reality, wavering slightly. Asha and Feyd and the servants stared at you. It felt as if a numbing agent had swept over you, completely obliterating any sense of self. You ran the words over and over in your mind, hoping that if you repeated them enough you might be able to change their meaning.

The House of Atreides has fallen. The House of Atreides has fallen. The House of Atreides has —

Tears blurred your vision. Your lower lip trembled. You said, very quietly, “You did this.”

“Y/N,” Asha had said, stepping towards you.

“You did this,” you repeated louder, voice loathsomely tremulous. The numbness in you turned sharp and jagged. “You did this. You knew. You knew.”

Asha started, “We didn’t —”

“You think we did this?” Feyd snapped.

You barely heard him as the pieces fell into place, memories of the last few months surfacing and creating your gruesome truth. The threats from Rabban, the Sardaukar soldiers, Rabban’s recent departure. There was no doubt the Harkonnens were behind your family’s downfall. Had they all known? Were you just another pawn in another game that you hadn’t wanted to play?

Hysteria crept into your tone. “You knew. You knew. And you lied! You fucking lied! All this time you knew they were going to kill my family and neither of you did anything.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Feyd sneered.

Asha looked to him, alarmed. “na-Baron, perhaps this isn’t the best time to —”

“If I wanted to kill your family, I would’ve done it on our wedding day,” Feyd continued as if she hadn’t spoken. He advanced on you. “We had no hand in their deaths.”

“Don’t come near me.” You held up a hand to prevent him from getting any closer. Your gaze flickered between Asha and Feyd, to the servants watching the entire scene unfold with wide eyes. “None of you come near me.”

“Y/N —”

“GET OUT!” You screamed. Tears had streamed down your face then, which was surely reddened by anger and grief. “All of you! Get out!”

The servants scurried away, leaving Asha and Feyd in their wake. They stared at you; Asha in fright, Feyd’s expression unreadable. Your whole body shook with the concentrated effort not to launch yourself at them. “I never want to see either of you for as long as I live.”

Feyd’s mouth worked. “Fine.”

He spun on his heel and disappeared. Asha lingered momentarily, seemingly searching for something to say, but ultimately ended up trailing after the na-Baron with her head low. Now that you were alone, you flung yourself into your quarters and started pushing furniture in front of the door.

You wanted to be alone. And you never wanted to see another Harkonnen again.

That had been, what — three days ago? Four? You had stopped keeping track. After barricading the doors, you had alternated between wailing your sorrows and destroying everything you hadn’t pushed in front of the door. Then, from that night and into the next two days, you had curled into a corner of the room and slipped in and out of consciousness, getting up only to relieve yourself.

It was the third day, then, that Feyd began knocking. At least, that’s what it started as.

Soon he was pounding on the door, throwing his body against it, screaming and cursing and crying out your name. He roared, “You can’t stay in there forever!”

Each strike of his fists on the wood reverberated through you like a physical blow. Not once did you respond to him, much to his ire, demanding that you let him know you’re still alive.

Were you?

You weren’t sure. And even if you were, you had nothing to say to him.

Your sadness was a living, breathing thing, its arms reaching around your middle in an embrace that slowly squeezed the air from your lungs. You could feel it compressing your bones, your blood, pressing down on you with merciless force. Everything melted together in a devastating act.

And then, in fragments of time when you could wade through your crushing grief, grim realization would settle in.

The last time you had seen Jessica, you not only insulted her status but dismissed her from your presence. She’d tried to reconcile, through your father, of course, but you had denied her even that. Would you have felt as justified in your decision if you knew she would be dead soon?

Your heart panged at the thought of Leto, too — how you had so cowardly ran from him to avoid his disapproval of you. And now…now you would never see them again. Never hug your mother or feel the brush of your father’s beard on your cheek, inhale their familiar scents.

You were alone. Completely alone.

And worst of all? It was the fault of the people you had just decided worthy enough to trust.

This delivered a hit to you almost more crippling than the deaths of your family: the death of the new family you thought you found. Asha. Feyd. Their faces circled through your mind. You did your best to shove them away but sometimes you thought you saw them in the corner of your eye, heard Asha’s musical laugh or caught the fluid, graceful movements of Feyd’s stride.

And each time you turned in a flurry of hope that they were there. Because, despite their betrayal, you wanted them there to comfort you.

The fifth day passed. Your images of them increased, to the point that you staged arguments with them and raged and sobbed and came undone. You vaguely realized that the food you kept refusing was affecting you, the poison your body now depended on taking its toll without daily reinforcement. Your days became delusions and fake conversations. You were weak, mentally and physically, unable to move. Some of the nausea and fever returned from the first few days after dosing, too, rendering you powerless.

Your mind played tricks on you. A memory of Caladan superimposed on top of Feyd’s mouth, his body on yours, Gurney and your parents and the sea and the snail and your own bloodstained hands. The Feyd your subconscious conjured found you like that — crumpled and spent and sodden with tears — after you imagined he broke into your quarters.

Unlike the other images, however, this time he scooped you into his arms and carried you to the bed where he laid you down on the bedclothes and plied you with something bitter-tasting that drifted you off to sleep.

A bright light washes over you, and you slowly open your eyes. The first thing you notice is a warmth inside you that previously had been missing. Then, that you’re lying in the bed and the room has been cleaned and, for the most part, rearranged.

You jolt up. There’s a cuff around your left wrist, keeping you bound to the bed. It rattles as you yank on it, urgency seizing you.

“It’s just a cautionary measure, na-Baroness.”

A woman glides into view. By the crown of dark haired braided back from her forehead, you know she’s not Harkonnen. The woman stops at the end of the bed and smiles reassuringly.

“Who are you?” You croak.

“My name is Doctor Wyn. I am a physician that’s been called in to aid your recovery.”

You consider this. “Feyd-Rautha called you.” She nods at this, and in response you recline back against the pillows. “I don’t want to see him.”

“That’s why I’m here,” Wyn says. “How are you feeling?”

“Better, I suppose.”

“Your body was suffering from the lack of nourishments and, without your dosage of poison, severely unable to regulate itself. Did you suffer any…delusions? It’s mostly commonly associated with poison withdrawal. I want to clarify what you remember of the last few days.

You hesitate but eventually recount your memories, including seeing Asha and Feyd. “The last thing I remember is a vision of…him.”

Wyn hums. “I suspect that was real, na-Baroness. He’s the one who managed to get to you. And in good time, too, you were close to death.”

“He…found me?”

“Yes, na-Baroness.”

You think back to your fragmented memory of the event, of Feyd’s pale, concerned face hovering over you as he tucked you into his body.

That had been real?

“Did he put you up to this?” You ask.

“No, he did not,” Wyn answers with a hint of amusement, “but he has been waiting anxiously for you to awake. Do you mind if I inform him? I will only be gone for a moment.”

You nod your assent. The thought of Feyd makes your stomach twist uneasily.

When she leaves, you turn your gaze up to the ceiling. The last few days float over you, the news of your family’s deaths. The numbness is now replaced with something you can’t quite name — not sadness or grief. It’s almost peaceful, except for a flicker of anger.

Wyn returns. You’ve moved yourself fully upright and flattened down your hair. The surprise is evident on her face. You tell her, “Let him in.”

“na-Baroness, are you sure?”

“Yes. Do it now.”

Wyn nods again before leaving. This time, the sound of approaching footsteps is only too familiar. Feyd freezes when he sees you. An indecipherable expression crosses his face before disappearing behind his usual indifference.

You take him in greedily — the contours of his face, his broad shoulders, plush lips. All of this pales in comparison, though, to the scar that starts at his right brow and slices across his nose to the opposite cheek.

Feyd examines you. “You look like shit.”

“I could say the same to you.” You want to know what caused the scar, but you don’t want him to know that you care. “Why did you save me?”

“It would be terribly inconvenient for me if you died.”

“Are you sure it’s not because I’m the only thing linking you to Arrakis?”

Feyd’s gaze hardens. “Explain.”

“Arrakis,” you repeat like it’s obvious, “isn’t that why all of this is happening? I’m the last of the Atreides line and as my husband you stand to inherit the planet.” And the spice trade.

“Admittedly, I’ve given thought to it,” Feyd says with a tired sigh, “as did my uncle, who I suspect orchestrated this entire tragedy.”

“Don’t separate yourself from him,” you hiss.

“Did you not hear me?” Feyd rounds the bed to your side. “The Baron has been acting of his own accord, scheming behind our backs, wife, with my idiot brother. And while we should’ve been retaliating, you’ve been…here.”

“Here, what? Mourning my family?”

“Do you not wish to avenge them?”

Your tongue rolls in your cheek. “I do.”

It’s true — his words fan the anger in you into a burning inferno. You do want to avenge them. You want the Baron to pay for what he’s done.

Feyd sits down on the edge of the bed, his weight dipping the mattress. His hand twitches as if to grab yours but ultimately thinks better of it.

“We can’t do it if you do not trust me and believe me complacent,” he says. “Tell me what I must do to prove it to you.”

You don’t reply. Instead, you stare at him, achingly beautiful, this man whose darkness calls out to yours. You can tell that he is earnest about this. His suggestion is a summation of your relationship thus far, you push him and he pushes back harder. Only, this time, you would push last.

“You hurt me,” you murmur, “and now I want you to feel the same.”

“How?” Feyd asks. Did you imagine his eyes flick down to your mouth?

“Give me your dagger.”

His movements are slow, deliberate. Not once does he tear his gaze from yours as he unsheathes the dagger at his hip. Feyd presses the handle of it into your palm. It’s heavy, a weight you’re not certain you can even wield in your current condition. You wrap your fingers around its leather grip.

And Feyd never even flinches as you plunge the dagger into him.

Taglist:

@moonsoulk @heartarianagran @torchbearerkyle @unicoreads @taleah @mamawiggers1980 @jovialeggsbailiffsoul @harkonnin @avidreader73 @unicorntrooper @beebeechaos @kamcrazy123 @wo-ming-bai @kpopnstarwars @m-indkiller @dacreshoney @stopeatread @the-na-baroness @therealslimshady-1

#feyd rautha #dune #feyd x reader #feyd x you #fanfic writing #writers on tumblr #writing #feyd rautha harkonnen

[janeyseymour]

La Cosa Nostra- pt 11

cowritten with @schemmentis

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9. Part 10.

Summary: Melissa's pissed with recent news, the Feds are back at it, and you go to a place and person to find some comfort.

WC: ~2.05k

At this news, Melissa quickly slips into the seat on the other side of Dom's table. “Are ya crazy? I told you they've already torn this place to shreds, and you want to bring the money in through here?” She hisses as she leans more into the middle of the table. “Listen, losin’ the salon is already bad enough. You know what it did to Y/N when you took her off it.”

“That didn't come from me, Mel. I just had to deliver the message. You know that.”

“I don't care who it came from. You knew, and you did it just the same. Now you have the coglioni to sit here and say we should run it through here. I already ain't gonna forget the slightin’ of my wife, youse know that- the lot of you. You wanna tell me I gotta run this shit through my restaurant? Then tell me. Don't act like this is some proposition, Dominic. Tell me what to do, and I'll handle it. ‘Cause you and I both know how this shit works, but I am tellin’ you,” Melissa points an index finger at the man across from her sternly. “Right here, right now, I am tellin’ you; this fucks up my restaurant and youse all are gonna have a much bigger problem than the fuckin’ Feds, capisce?”

Dominic's face remains neutral, though there is an amused glint to his eyes as his palm shifts along the head of his cane. He nods quickly and respectfully to Melissa. “We want things to go well even more than you do, kid.” He says softly.

Melissa leans back in chair, arms crossing over her chest. She raises an eyebrow, silently urging him to say what he needs to say. 

“We'll work out the details on our end. You only have to make sure you're here when the money comes through. Simple as that.” Dom says. He sighs when Melissa still merely stares at him expectantly. “Sí, sí. We're telling you this is how it's gonna work from now on. Clear out a spot in the office in the back. Nobody else needs to know it's anythin’ different than a regular shipment comin’ once in a while. None of it happens if you ain't here. This is big, Lissa. They're trustin’ you.”

“Like they trusted my wife?” Melissa spits out as she pushes herself out of the chair. “Texts only. They call and wake up my girls while they’re sleepin’, I'll take one of my bats to their kneecaps.” She adds on her way past Dom in his seat to storm back toward the kitchen.

You raise a brow as you watch your wife storm into the back and Dominic starts to slowly make his way out. You grab one of the other servers milling about, silently asking them to keep an eye on your girls while you go check on the redhead.

When you get into the back, she’s slamming her fist into the linoleum counter where they prep the food. Her hand is already bruising, and you take her fist gently into your own.

“My love,” you whisper as you hold her hand in yours.

“Let me go,” she hisses.

You shake your head, refuting her request. “You’re hurting yourself. You know I can’t let you do that.”

“I don’t give a shit,” she grumbles as she starts to curl her other hand into a fist. You grab the other one before she can even think about causing damage to that hand.

“Melissa.”

“They’re usin’ the restaurant as their new front,” your wife tells you quietly. “Said that it’s what we have to do, and they trust me… that we’re in the clear because the feds saw how busy we are and that we bring the girls around here, so it has to be safe.”

“I’m not letting you do this,” you tell her. “And I’m not letting them put the girls in danger.”

“We don’t got an option, Y/N. I told Dom I would handle it,” Melissa sighs as she leans against you. “And I will. You just… take care of the girls. No matter what happens.”

“Melissa, don’t talk like that- like you’re gonna die.”

“I’m just being realistic. You did the same when they were using the salon,” your wife says softly. “We both knew that if something happened, I’d have to keep the girls safe. But now, it’s on me, and I know that you’d do the same if something were to happen. We don’t have a choice.”

“Fuck,” you whisper again. “Shit.”

“Get… get the girls out of here, and tell them that I’ll be home late tonight,” your wife runs a hand over her face. “I have to make it work here.”

“No,” you say softly. “I’ll… I’ll get someone to come pick them up so I can help you.”

“Y/N,” Melissa grits out. “Go. I can handle this.”

You give her a look, one that tells her she doesn’t have to do this- that you’ll handle it. You don’t want to have her be the one in danger.

But she just shakes her head and insists you get the girls out of here- just in case Dom did give the two of you up, and he’s setting you up for failure. The girls cannot watch their mother(s) go down.

You cradle her face in your hands, kissing her a few times. “No more punchin’ things, hey? Can't have you bustin’ up those pretty fingers more than you already do.” You whisper. “I'll take care of the girls. You do what you gotta do.” When she nods, just a little, you kiss her one more time before finally turning away.

You gather your girls with a thank you to the server watching them for you. 

“Mam! We have to wait for Mommy!” Cat is insisting as you walk with both your girls out the front door.

“Auntie Val needs Mommy's help tonight, sweetheart. So, we're gonna go home and make sure everything is cleaned up and nice for her, okay?” You speak to your girls though you're glancing around the parking lot on the way to your car.

You take note of Dom's car pulling out but don't see any cars with sirens or lights careening into the lot afterward. You carefully buckle your girls into the backseat. When you're shutting the back door after making sure they're both safe, you look around again on the walk around to the drivers side. There's nothing different or out of the ordinary. No sign of agents or officers. Which means Dom has only done exactly as he said he did.

You slip into the driver's seat, throwing your seatbelt on. You swallow as you carefully pull out of the spot and towards home. Dom telling the truth is maybe worse than if he had flipped. They're really putting this on Melissa and Twelve Tables. Part of you despises it. The amount of risk it puts on your wife. You know it intimately. The other part, the part that grew up in all this and doesn't know anything else, that part is proud as hell. It isn't anything to turn your nose up at to be entrusted with the process of mafia money. It speaks volumes. Volumes that equally excite and terrify you.

Danik and Shaw are back at the precinct, contemplating everything that Dominic told them- that you and your wife had nothing to do with the murder of Bobby. He told them that even if you did have something against the man, you could never do anything- you rescue wasps because you don’t have the heart to kill them despite the fact that your wife is always screaming at you to kill the damned demons. They go over the fact that you bring your twins into your restaurant, you take the girls to church with you, you always are on time to get the girls to and from school. If you were a part of the mafia and mob that dealt with things pertaining to ordering hits and murder, you wouldn’t be such dutiful mothers.

But they also know that you never brought the girls into the salon- they’ve only ever seen the two girls with you at the restaurant. And that is a bit suspicious in their eyes. So, they plan to head back to the salon the following day.

When they get there, you aren’t there- which is unusual. You’re almost always there, and they know that. Instead, Tony is out on the floor with the other stylists. But you are nowhere to be seen; your car isn’t even in the lot. And it isn’t in the lot because you’re somewhere else.

You’re sitting in the sanctuary of your church. After dropping the girls off at school and leaving your wife to her restaurant turned mafia front, you go to the one place where you can find some sort of solitude- because even now your home reminds you of everything happening in your world.

There’s no service today, so you find yourself sitting in the back pew by yourself, looking up at the ceiling. You’re speaking silently to whatever God is out there to please spare your family from all of the heartache that you can only imagine is in your inevitable future. Finally, you bow your head, and you begin to weep silently. 

You’re shaken out of your thoughts when you feel someone slide into the pew next to you and wrap an arm around your shoulder. Your eyes pop open in surprise, and when you look next to you, Barbara is sitting there.

She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t ask why you’re here and not at the salon or at the restaurant. She doesn’t mention that she knows what the two of you do outside of your legal businesses. No- she sits in complete and utter silence as she holds you gently. And you can’t do anything about it. You can’t explain why you’re here in a puddle of your own tears, not without giving away what she already knows to be true. So you don’t say anything. You just continue to cry out your fears and worries over everything while clinging to the shawl that Barbara has draped over her shoulders. And when you pull away, you let out an ugly, choked out laugh.

“You probably think I’m crazy.”

“Crazy? For coming to the one safe little corner of the earth where you can feel anything and do anything and not be judged for it?” the woman asks you. She shakes her head silently. She takes your hand in her own, and together the two of you pray. You don’t realize that she is praying for the same thing that you are, but she is. The two of you silently pray that you’ll somehow get yourself out of this mess- that your family will be able to return to some sort of normalcy- or better yet turn a new leaf and start a new life where there is no mafia or mob, no illegal businesses that put everyone in harm’s way.

And when you lift your head, hers is still bowed for a few seconds before she lifts it with a quiet, “Thank you, God.” And then, as if nothing happened, she pats your hands gently with her own and goes on her way. 

You take a few deep breaths once Barb is gone. Carefully trying to get yourself together. You wipe at your cheeks and eyes, focusing on the distant altar at the pulpit. You sit in the last pew, breathing deep and slow. Staring at the large depiction of Jesus on the cross behind the altar. Slowly, you feel the serenity you were hoping to. You don't know that praying will do anything, actually change anything, but it's at least felt like getting it off your chest. In a way that doesn't jeopardize your family or anyone else. You suddenly understand Barbara's devout faith. You can't say that will ever be you but you get it. You make the sign of the cross over your head and chest as you finally rise from the pew and slowly make your way out of the quiet church.

TAGS (and let me know if you want to be added!): @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld

#abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary fanfic #mel #melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti

[yourlocalrandombisexual]

alright so i’ve been seeing the watcher posts and gathering my thoughts so i’m gonna put all my watcher stuff in one big post under the cut cause it’s gonna get long and i need to get this out of my head.

i will say 99% of the fandom was expecting a fun, exciting, omg can’t wait for it type of announcement and seeing the title and thumb nail for the first time made me really nervous.

also, side note, why on earth would they choose a thumbnail of the three of them sitting on a couch like that with the title “goodbye youtube”?? just the imagery alone makes you think of the try guys and their now infamous video like why would you want that comparison right out the gate before you even say anything?? super weird choice.

then the video is all nostalgic and wistful, clips of steven’s, ryan’s, and shane’s, pre-buzzfeed youtube videos and i’m thinking “did someone die cause this feels like a video obit” none of this calmed my nerves and made me more anxious about what could be coming. and then we all know what happened next, they announce that they’re paywalling everything yada yada yada

and after seeing everyone else’s takes and the general vibe of the fandom being “fuck watcher” it continues to baffle me why they thought this was gonna go over well. because to me it feels like they went from “yay we have our own youtube channel” to “give us your cash we’re a media empire” and missed A LOT of steps in between.

and i dunno maybe watcher did try to change things and tweak their business model and things weren’t getting better but as a fan and someone who watches a lot of different youtubers you kinda see this one coming. like creators drop little crumbs beforehand to gauge how people will take it or they try weird series/shows that have like 3 episodes to see what their audience is more interested in. there are a signs as a fan you can see but i think one of the reasons this went so badly for watcher is because it was so far out of left field. there was never a hint that the youtube model wasn’t working for them.

but again maybe they did try x, y, and z without it working or being transparent about it and if they were trying things why not lean into that to garner compassion from fans? we all know the youtube algorithm sucks and if they had started the video talking about the things they tried and how nothing was working and how much it sucked to leave youtube i think people would’ve understood. then they could’ve had shane talk about how subscriptions suck and there are too many of them and they tried to find another solution but couldn’t. now not only do i have sympathy for what there going through i had my feelings validated. then they could’ve gone into why this is better and what i’m going to get out of it as a consumer.

like it’s not that hard. but instead the vibe i got from them was a real palpable relief that they were leaving youtube which felt like a slap in the face.

and while i don’t agree with the steven bashing at all i do think it’s a little bit funny that they kinda dug themselves into that hole with their end of the year behind the scenes video they put out last fall. they really painted steven as a genius ceo while ryan and shane are just on screen talent. so while i feel for what steven is going through they kinda put themselves in that position.

all of this to say that it doesn’t feel like they hired anyone to field this idea by or do any kind of market research at all and the vibe that i’ve always kinda gotten from watcher is one where they want to jump over the messiness and growing pains of being a new small business and be established. be this huge force a la dropout/college humor without putting in the time to get there. and i do think watcher showed it’s true colors here where they only think of fans as cash cows they can deposit whenever.

and just the arrogance of thinking their fans will follow them to a subscription and trying to spin it as it being the same thing as leaving buzzfeed drives me up the wall. it’s not the same.

anyway i think that’s it. if i think of anything else ill edit this post ✌️

#watcher

[imagine-knb]

This is so embarrassing—!! Lmao, can I pls have GoM+Kagami+Kasamatsu reacting to their girlfriend slipping in the shower and badly hurting herself? I’m glad I wasn’t home alone or else uhh.. lmao it’s funny now but I do have a knarly bump on my head from it^^”

Glad to know you are a-okay, anon! Sorry this one took a while to answer! Admin Neon

Kuroko: The first thing he does is wrap her in a towel. He is quick to gently guide her toward sitting on the edge of the tub, helping her swing her feet up and over the edge. "You're not seeing double or anything, are you?" His knowledge of head injuries in rudimentary at best, coming mainly from television shows and the occasional random discussion from friends, so he doesn't know exactly what to do next other than keep you awake.

Kagami: His face is nearly as red as his hair as he helps his girlfriend off the floor. If it weren't for the fact she was using both of his hands to balance herself, he would have been covering his eyes. Instead, he tried his best to look toward the ceiling where he counted the water spots left on the spackle from steam. Only when he'd counted enough, and his girlfriend was appropriately covered in a towel, did he manage to look down without glowing from embarrassment.

Kise: "____cchi, don't die on me!" He's dramatic when he flings open the bathroom door to find his girlfriend in a heap on the floor. The shower curtain and towel that's clinging to her are soaking wet from the shower still pouring down and he has trouble deciding what to do first. Turn off the water? Or help his girlfriend up? He ends up standing there for a few seconds trying to figure out what to do and she ends up yelling at him to help her first.

Kasamatsu: He hears the loud crash from outside the bathroom and comes running in, only to immediately cover his eyes at the state of his girlfriend's undress. He's reaching out one hand to help her up while the other one tries to keep his gaze away from her body — give her some privacy, he tells himself. But when he looks in the mirror and sees her anyway, he can't help the bright shade of red from invading his face.

Aomine: The seriousness of his attitude when helping his girlfriend up immediately washes away when he realizes she's going to be fine. The troubled frown on his face melts into a teasing smirk. "Maybe you shouldn't be showering alone. I could join you from now on." He waggles his eyesbrows a bit after his comment, trying to egg her on to agreeing. After all, she can't slip and fall again if he's right there to catch her.

Midorima: It's almost as if he were prepared for this exact moment because he seems almost methodical in the way he helps her up off the floor, wrapping a towel around her body before sitting her down on the bathroom counter. He pulls out a first aid kit before she can even get a word in edgewise, his hands delicately checking her scalp for any serious head wounds. When none come up, she finally hears him let out a single sigh of relief.

Murasakibara: She almost feels like a child with the way he's able to so easily pick her up off the bathroom floor after her fall. He's gentle to set her back on her feet, his hands still holding on to her sides in case the floor was still too slippery. "____-chin, are you okay?" The quick glance over her body doesn't reveal any major injuries, but he still hovers around the bathroom door after she insists on continuing on with her shower.

Akashi: Maybe it was a bit of an overreaction, but the day after her fall, he has the interior of the bathroom completely redone. All she had asked for was a rubber bathmat, something that would prevent her from slipping again. Instead, he goes the full nine yards and has the shower floor ripped out and replaced with something easier to stand on. For a moment, he contemplates bars on the walls. Maybe that was a bit too far...

#kuroko #kagami #kise #kasamatsu #aomine #midorima #murasakibara #akashi #gom

[grapejuicestyless]

So Long, London

Harry Styles x fem!reader

Summery: Years and years of love and affection couldn’t amount to the floods of tears that flooded the once prosperous city you danced through.

From a young age I’ve always wondered what death feels like. Those who have experienced it aren’t here to tell us their stories. Would it hurt, could I feel it clenching my heart in its dark grasp or would I sigh in my sleep and let the darkness take me with no sense of slipping away.

As I walk down the old roads I used to dance on, I understand the concept of it better now that my heals hit the concrete like bullet shells falling to the floor. The vibrant red brick seemed duller nowadays, moss covering the once new white concrete holding all these places I often visited together.

To me, death wasn’t the last breath of air in my lungs escaping, it wasn’t the melodic beeping of the machines beside me in a hospital room, but something that drowned me from the inside out.

His smell is stuck to all my clothes, his smile carved into the back of my phone case from the polaroids of us I kept for keepsakes for years. I can still hear his voice, it’s all around me in the people passing by on the street, the same accent fresh in my mind, his last words knives in my heart.

He swore that he loved me, but where were the clues? I died at the alter waiting for the proof. His green eyes flashing with mischief as he lied to my heart to keep me close, his bluest days tainting my mind, my endless sympathy forcing me to stay even with the gun stuck against the back of my head.

I don’t remember the end, only the feeling of my spine splitting under the weight of his body as I pulled him in closer each time he slipped out of reach. Only the fading of his smile as I gave up trying to make him laugh after so many failed attempts. The heart was dead, I stopped CPR after all, there was no use. Our love was long dead, lying buried with our faltering spirits. He killed me when he killed our relationship, two graves dug with one gun.

He swore that he loved me, and his face looked just like the man who said it to me and meant it, so I believed him as he led me down the street with his hands in his pockets.

For so long, I loved london. My clothes out of place, made for the states and carried across to my home where he laid in the dimming light of our sunroom. For so long, I held him and guided his heart to mine, I let him take parts of me I’ll never be able to rebuild. And I’m angry that I gave him all that youth for free, but I’m just mad as hell because I loved this place.

And he claims I abandoned the ship, he writes it in the songs on his albums and sends the troops to my front door, breaking down the home I just rebuilt but they’ll never know how I was going down with it, my white knuckle dying grip holding onto his quiet resentment.

But truly how much sad did he think I had left in me to give? How much tragedy? Just how low did he believe I could before I would self-implode, waiting for his grays and blacks to turn back into the vibrancy I fell so deeply in love with.

And as I walk these streets, his scent fading from my clothes, I can feel the color coming back to my face, and I feel bad for anyone who stops me on the streets and asks me to grab a coffee, because the hole in my heart is black and it’s pulling in anything in it’s path, it’s destructive and dangerous and it acts a lot like him.

He’ll find someone, my stitches will come undone and my heart will die as I lay silently on the empty floor of the apartment I never thought I would see again.

I have to leave, I know it even in this post-death mist. I am a ghost walking down these once euphoric streets we walked hand in hand across. I can’t let myself rot like he did, I won’t let myself get left behind like he intended.

And I’m just mad as hell because I once loved this place.

But for now, it’s so long, london.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry x reader #harrystyles #harry styles

[cocogum]

The Great Wave - Chapter 1 Review

‼️ SPOILERS FOR THE CHAPTER ‼️

Warning(s): mature themes, descriptive language, proceed with caution.

Before I start, I'd like to say that I initially added a lot more to this, but since tumblr had to censor it, I had to level it down a little...

I guess I just got carried away with it because of yumalia lol

So yeah...hope tumblr doesn't flag this again....

Alright everyone you know the drill.

LET’S ALL GET IT OUT OF OUR SYSTEMS AND GO CRAZY OVER HOW THESE TWO FUCKED SO MANY TIMES‼️‼️‼️‼️

Good job you two honestly I’m so happy these two got to have fun together like this 🥰🥰

Like no joke the first time I started to read the first chapter, of all the ways I thought it would start, I DIDN’T THINK THEY’D BE FUCKING I legit thought I was interrupting them my god-

I was so SHOCKED wtf??????!!!!

Like yes but what????

Ankama wasn’t kidding when they said they’d go mature mode and INSTANTLY cram in adult themes. The unexpected (but still warned) change was so sudden that that’s how you know Ankama has been keeping themselves tamed in the seasons because they couldn’t pull this shit off so easily like Japan.

Now let’s analyze the first thing that’s in the very first chapter.

The s** 👹👹

Okay I know how laughably this sounds because the FIRST THING in the first volume that we get to see is Yugo and Amalia’s private time.

And I’m not ashamed of loving it. Even now I still can’t believe that this can literally be considered soft corn. I won’t be surprised if more than half of the chapter ended up on that infamous site 💀(if u know, u know)

By the way I love how Amalia’s hair grew cuz I was starting to get sick of seeing her with a short ponytail all the time AND I LOVE HOW WE FINALLY SEE HER UNTYING HER HAIR CUZ MAN ITS BEEN SO LONG SINCE IVE SEEN HER LET HER HAIR OUT

But their private moment(s) really made us understand just how much they care for one another. The way that they are sleeping together NAKED like this so comfortably too confirms that they have done these kinds of activities before.

The ambiance and the colors truly encapsulate the tranquility and peacefulness they both share in this moment. You can even feel the sunshine’s rays touching your skin.

AND I’M ALL HERE FOR IT. They genuinely look so cute and in love together like that I just wanna tear that blanket away and dhskdkfkksskskkdksksd.

If anyone is wondering why Yugo still keeps the dofus on him, it’s because the dragon, Rodalström, that Armand defeated is still alive. A necrome can never truly die so Yugo has to essentially keep the dofus on him at all times just in case the dragon would set free someday (i feel so bad for Qilby due to this decision…dude is the only one between his siblings who can hear these two banging💀)

While looking through these same pages over and over again (I still haven’t stopped), I began to seriously wonder what kind of positions they would do together.

We’ve seen two particular positions they have used in this chapter and it was the “lotus” position and the “woman on top” position.

These are very accurate positions for these two mainly because of the level of intimacy it provides. It’s not rough, extravagant, or even too lewd. It’s simply just right.

They are so intimate with one another that they even hug while keeping the pace. And I think it is wonderful to see these two just being happy and satisfied in each other’s arms like this.

It's such a sweet moment for these two that you really can't look away (i'm definitely not saying this to justify why I keep overfixating these panels). You can even see Yugo choosing to keep his eyes open during it all just to look at Amalia enjoying it.

My guy clearly loves the view please!! 😫😫😫

You don't think seeing her liking it makes him even more excited righ-

Some parts during their intimate moment had their arms, which were groping A LOT of things, somewhat censored by the blankets they still had on each other. So, to have a clearer view of what happened under the sheets, I decided to outline their covered arms to give you an idea of where those hands went.

At the very beginning, Yugo is woken up by Amalia kissing his cheek. But after that, his body looks much more awake when we see a panel of Amalia's hand under the covers reaching for something. This immediately makes Yugo wide awake, to the point where he's already sweating a bit and blushing very hard as he says, "You're...tireless!"

After some outlining made by yours truly, it was painfully obvious where Amalia was reaching for and- DEBHUHUFUWHYUHFUYHUWUEFHUWHFUEFHUEWH

GURL STOP OMG SHE'S TOO BOLD I CAN'T WITH HER I LOVE HER OMG SHE KNOWS WHERE TO REACH YES DO IT WAKE HIM UP!!!!

The fact that she instantly knew what to do when she wasn't getting enough attention from him after that cheek kiss alone sends me 😭😭

But it's not like Yugo's the innocent one here for not trying anything. On the contrary, HE'S TOUCHING HER TOO.

THAT GUY KNOWS WHAT'S BEST TO GRAB.

He's a man after all, so what'd you expect lol

He KNOWS that her ass is THICK, SO WHY WOULD HE NOT TOUCH ONE OF HER BEST ASSETS!?!?!?

You can tell these two obviously do more than just two “sleeping” positions, but since they were messing around in the morning, I can give them a pass for being sweet and tender with each other at this moment, just this once. They must've done A LOT more yesterday night since Yugo did say she was tireless as soon as he woke up. These two are adventurers at heart, so why wouldn't they explore each other more thoroughly-

Given that we’ve only seen the "lotus," the "woman on top," and a simple embrace, I would like to suggest a few more positions that would suit them well. These recommended positions are so accurate to them and reflect their dynamic that I wouldn’t be surprised if they have done these before (or will eventually 👀).

While nitpicking every single panel of their “morning routine” I learned two things thanks to this start:

1) Yugo’s a bottom but is able to switch.

2) Amalia is insatiable in bed. Girl is hungry HUNGRY. Because judging from how Yugo and her were fully naked and laying in bed in the beginning, that means they had finished screwing with each other a while ago BEFORE AMALIA JUST JUMPS BACK INTO IT. SHE’S LITERALLY TIRING OUT A DEMIGOD ALIEN JUST FROM GROPING AND TAKING HIM-

If a scene like this wasn’t what I thought would happen at the beginning of the first chapter, then Amalia getting choked to death had definitely thrown me off guard. Like many other readers, I already knew that this wasn’t actually real and was only happening in Yugo’s head but it still felt very off-putting to see her struggling to breathe. The way Yugo panicked and tried to help only for him to scream and cry when he realized she was on the verge of dying was powerful.

And that’s when we find the anomaly in this chapter.

The dragon that appeared in Yugo’s head.

I initially expected Toross to be the one tormenting Yugo but I guess it ended up being this dragon.

The dragon figure seems to feel severe hatred for Yugo for all the calamities he let happen in the World of Twelve and how he seems to be living a good life at the moment while having the six primordial eliatrope Dofus and the Eliasphere in his possession.

The theories immediately started flooding in on who this dragon could possibly be and here’s what people came up with:

A) The dragon is one of the six primordial dragons from the World of Twelve named Grougalorasalar.

He’s the guardian of the Eben dofus and used to have been sealed in Joris during the Dofus era. Some have theorized this dragon to be him because of how physically similar they look.

Although he looks identical, there is no logical reasoning to support his hostility towards Yugo, let alone his ability to infiltrate his mind. Furthermore, the way he acts and thinks around Yugo, assuming it is actually him, is illogical given his involvement in Ogrest's rampage.

B) This dragon is, in actuality, Draconiros, the dragon of dreams.

His job is to govern the dreams and nightmares of the twelvians. People suspect he might have taken the form of Grougalorasalar while talking to Yugo.

Despite never meeting Yugo, he could have watched over the twelvians through their dreams. This means that he might have seen Oropo's dreams, as well as Yugo's own, giving him insight into Yugo's future actions and indirectly caused consequences. If true, this theory would explain why he holds a grudge against Yugo. It currently stands as the most compelling theory among all others.

C) The Great Dragon. Yugo’s father could be the one able to invade his mind and blame him for all sorts of things.

It's hard to ignore the fact that the Great Dragon appears to have been absent during some of the biggest catastrophes in the Krosmoz. Despite countless calamities happening all around the world, the Great Dragon seemed to have done nothing to prevent them, nor did he even show up to witness them. This is why his presence felt non-existent in the world. If he doesn't care about the world, why would he have any interest in what Yugo has done?

D) Osamodas himself could be the one speaking to Yugo while taking the form of Grougalorasalar.

It's worth considering that Yugo may face blame from the god of beasts. Additionally, it's intriguing to note that the osamodas race will play a significant role later on. This is evident from Aurora and her family's return to the Sadida kingdom.

So far, these are the only theories out there that we have for this dragon. That, and the fact that it might as well be a whole new character that we haven’t seen before.

The thing that truly makes this interaction between Yugo and the unknown dragon feel severe is the fact that the dragon tells him that despite sharing dragon blood, he truly detests him.

Imagine having to know that a millennial dragon hates you despite sharing the same blood.

Of course, the interaction couldn’t have stayed for very long because Amalia immediately interrupted it by screaming Yugo’s name. Yugo looks completely out of it, huddled up and shaking in fear. I understand that he saw what could be a future threat but this whole situation must’ve looked so off-putting from Amalia’s perspective: they were fucking, they started levitating because of the six eliatrope Dofus residing in him, and then they both suddenly fell on the floor and she saw Yugo curled up and crying, freaking the fuck out.

Amalia doesn’t understand but she still goes to him and immediately tries to calm him down by embracing him. But despite everything he’s seen and the fact that he interacted with a mysterious dangerous beast, the first thing that Yugo says amidst his crying is: “I thought I lost you…”

Look at the sheer terror in his eyes.

He genuinely looks like he thought he lost everything at this very moment. His body is shaking and is still processing what he just saw and heard.

He even APOLOGIZES to her, thinking that seeing her dying in his arms was somehow his fault.

Her life is such a huge priority for him that that’s immediately the first thing he’s afraid he’ll lose the most.

That’s when Amalia suddenly says the words: “Calm down, it was just a dream.”

…

A dream??

You mean to tell me that this whole time, Yugo was sleeping?

So this whole “wrestling” scene never happened?

I believe there’s been some kind of misunderstanding when we first read this chapter.

I feel like we thought Yugo and Amalia had been messing with each other in the morning and that’s when Yugo suddenly received a flash of imagery and words from the unknown dragon before Amalia snapped him out of it and that’s how they needed up on the floor together.

But it turns out that wasn’t technically what happened.

Because if this intimate scene was real, then why would Amalia say he had dreamt?

I believe this is what actually happened:

Yugo and Amalia were peacefully sleeping together after spending the night awake (because what do you think a fully naked couple does in bed). When morning arose, that’s when Yugo started having a wet dream of Amalia and him getting in on again and right when things were starting to get better for Yugo, the dream started to twist itself and change out of its own will, forcing the one good thing about the dream to leave, which was Amalia, by making her choke to death to finally reveal the dragon. The dragon haunts his mind and spills his hateful thoughts to the eliatrope causing him to suffer alone until Amalia snaps him awake and manages to unknowingly free him from the torment. Yugo must’ve fallen on the floor while having the nightmare and Amalia simply got down from the bed to wake him up.

(this still doesn’t change the things I said about the types of positions they have, how Amalia has her own nicknames for Yugo like ‘little princess’, and how Amalia is in bed though because dreams often depict and copy real-life behaviors from the mind of the person dreaming. it’s actually funny that Yugo had a WET DREAM about Amalia and him. despite getting so much action with her, his mind doesn’t leave her alone lol)

When she regards his shaking form that it was only a dream, however, Yugo insists how real it felt. That’s when he decides to stand up and claim he needs some air to think. The fact that he has said the same thing back in Season 4 Episode 1 when he had Oropo in his head, shows how his insistence of wanting to be alone after getting scarred, has become a pattern.

Amalia understandably (and predictably) gets angry at Yugo for leaving but her behavior also raises a few questions. Does this mean she’s angry that he wants to be alone every time he gets nightmares? Does he receive incessant nightmares on some nights? If that’s the case, then how often does this keep occurring? Or is this the first time he does this? Is she angry because he tends to quickly leave when he thinks he needs to deal with something on his own like how he did in Seasons 2 and 4?

Regardless of what the case may be, Amalia doesn’t waste time and immediately dresses herself up with her vines like a boss ass Queen just look a how refined and elegant she looks while changing✨✨ I love her so much 💕💕

Also vinillain noticed how these two dumbasses don’t HAVE ANY BEDROOM DOORS. How do they actually get any privacy if their bedroom has a huge ass hole with no door?? It’s so bare that it doesn’t even have a curtain to cover the front of their room!! Like did these two not realize that literally anyone can just get right in their room? I get that they’re royals so they would know that no one would be this dumb enough to simply get in like that but the entrance of the room is so big and wide that anyone can just pass through it and be able to see their bed from where they’re standing!! You can even see the bed frame right there in just that panel for crying out loud!! I get that the sadidas are a pretty open race BUT THEY’RE NOT THAT OPEN TO EACH OTHER-

Besides this stupid choice of not having any doors, I love how the kingdom made a few adjustments to the throne room because they initially only had one seat. Even when Armand was king, there was still one place. Aurora had to sit in a small space next to him lol. Note that Aurora used to sit on the right side like how Yugo has to do now.

I already talked about this to vinillain but I told them that because of how the throne was arranged when it got split into two, I feel like the ones who sit on the right are the ones who come from other kingdoms aka if they’re from another race. I believe that the reason why the throne had only been one seat in Seasons 1, 2, and the ovas, was because the only ruler at the time was King Oakheart. The ruling seat might have also been divided in two when the queen was still alive. Amalia might as well have simply chosen to sit in Armand’s place because it used to be his which would be cute if that was the case.

I like to think that Yugo deserves sitting in Aurora’s place because he’s submissive-

Speaking of Armand, the mural wall that Amalia made the artist make was such a wonderful decision. She really did love her brother despite the many quarrels they used to have.

This man entered the legend ❤️

After the interaction between Amalia and the painter, I noticed the royal advisor (or so I think) about to approach Amalia with something to discuss. Despite not having entered the throne room yet to listen to her people's grievances, the advisor seems to have something confidential to share with her, as he didn't choose to wait until she got there. Although we don't know what that "something" could be, Amalia immediately stops him, explaining that she just got out of bed and needs time to process everything.

I think we'll see what that 'something' could be about in the next chapter, though. Looking at the crowd awaiting Yugo and Amalia in the throne room to discuss their business with them, I have a strong feeling some of those problems would involve the elite eliatropes.

We can even see how the mood in the throne room looked very tense between the sadidas and the eliatropes. Some of the sadidas looked perturbed, and there's a good chance they're acting this way because of the eliatropes. Not only that, but the eliatrope kids looked super uncomfortable because of the tension going on. Even a sadida was eyeing an eliatrope in a pretty judgemental way (you can see it on the right panel).

They were all waiting for Amalia and Yugo so they could speak about their problems to the two royals so I wouldn't be surprised if some problems would be about the eliatropes staying.

I understand that when we last saw the sadidas, they were pretty much okay fighting alongside the eliatropes during the war against the necromes. But that was because it was a war. They were extremely short-handed, so they were perfectly fine with having them by their side. But now that the war is over, it's possible that many of them feel a bit awkward having to share their lands with eliatropes. Imagine living on these lands since the dawn of time and you suddenly have to live with people who are not even from your planet one day.

In short, Yugo and Amalia should get more intimate moments, the dragon in the dream has a good chance of being Draconiros, Yugo should stop dealing with his problems on his own, Armand is a chad, the two royal seats scream power couple goals, I need that sadida and eliatrope drama, and I’m waiting on what the advisor has to say.

@geekgirles @onyichii

#no i am not okay #i had so much to say for this one chapter that i used tumblr’s site for the first time just to put more images #i love it #ankama #wakfu #krosmoz #wakfu manga #wakfu webtoon #wakfu the great wave #wakfu season 5 #wakfu s5 #waven #wakfu chapter review #wakfu chapter 1 #wakfu the great wave manga #wakfu chapter 1 review #wakfu yugo #yugo #yugo wakfu #wakfu yugo sheran sharm #yugo sheran sharm #wakfu amalia #amalia wakfu #wakfu amalia sheran sharm #amalia sheran sharm #yumalia #wakfu yumalia #wakfu yugo x amalia #yugo x amalia

[tsurugis]

My mother in law finished my first book in the trilogy I’m writing and I’m dead because she loves it skjndjkdhidj she read the last hundred fifty pages in nearly one sitting and said it’s the strongest part of the book but that it’s well worth how “slow” the beginning is because by the time shit starts going down you really know the characters well I’m dead. she’s weird as hell about books and it’s not her genre but I live with her and I know she wouldn’t be able to fake liking it she can be mean as hell pfpflkjf

#baby’s first fucking booooook fkjfbkfjhf #it still needs a lot of work but blehhhh #I’m 60 pages in to the second and I’m so excited to at least get the solid first draft done of the trilogy lol #the second is going to be the longest but I finished the first in less than a year amazingly so maybe I can actually do this shit before I #fucking die fppflkfjf #140000 word first book #probably 300000 word second #I’m thinking unless I can fill the plot out way more the second will be about as long as the first #I don’t know #the only reason I think the second is gonna be much longer is because it’s over 16 years #unless I figure out a better ending point #which I don’t think will work because I need to save a pov for after something happens #for the third book #it’s just gonna have the most #big shrug #I meant the say the third will be about as long as the first fuck #ki rambling #ki writing

[candydos]

I know a number of people really didn’t like the “trio not really talking to each other for 10 years” thing, but I personally thought it was a nice thing to highlight.

as someone who’s had a lot of bad and toxic friendships, I realized that no one ever emphasized the importance of space, of distancing yourself to get better. it’s always about cutting them off, but what if you want to hold onto the person for the happiness you found in them? you have to take a little step back, look around, then keep going till you feel okay.

yes, the trio have been through a lot together, but they also hurt each other really badly and those don’t cancel each other out. not just everything in amphibia but the years of unhealthy dynamics back on earth. I know what it’s like to finally step out and have space after 8 months straight of a toxic friendship with its highs and lows, I can’t imagine what it would feel like for years of friendship. but it’s like a weird breath of fresh air. you both grow and you fix yourself out, then when you do come back, you’re better.

I feel like we don’t touch on these kinds of narratives/endings often, where goodbyes are permanent or the time away is significant. but there’s something beautiful in showing that friendships can stay intact in spite of distance and time away. that stepping away to grow on your own doesn’t diminish the value the friendship ever had in the first place. and I’m happy we got that.

#I’m bad at words so if this doesn’t make sense that’s fair #amphibia #amphibia season 3 #amphibia spoilers #but I have Very Strong defensive feelings about the ending because god!! it’s such a good lesson and by Jove I needed that as a kid #candy laments #yeah sure I didn’t save the world with my friends and almost die.. but we did deal with death threats.. teacher involvement.. blackmail.. #and it was the worst months of my life.. but they were also the ones who made some of my best. how could I just let go of that? #and that’s why this idea of ‘it’s ok to stop being friends for a while then come back’ is so important #because now we’re better. and the ones i still have trouble forgiving.. I keep at a further distance but we’re ok. it doesn’t have to be #end all or regular commitment forever #like I’ve slowly been coming back to old friends that I haven’t talked to in 7-8 years and we were very close before.. it happens! #hdnsbvsbdhdhh separation and radio silence is ok it’s normal pls don’t get mad over it

[vampiremansionpoolboy-moved]

going insane over the fact that happiness and care and concern and love is underneath every interaction between newt and hermann in pacific rim

#HEAR ME OUT. they’re introduced and newt and being a groupie and behind him hermann is all huffing and rolling his eyes and shaking his #head but he’s Not Angry. no. he jumps to defend newt albeit in a somewhat mocking and sarcastic way BUT THE THOUGHT IS THERE. and then when #hermann is rambling on about numbers being the handwriting of god newt is in the background smiling and laughing and making silly #hand motions and yes the hand motion was a bit mocking BUT THATS THEIR WHOLW THINF. anyways i’m not done. when newt drifts with the kaiju #and pentecost is there talking to him and hermann and newt r yelling back in forth u can hear the unease and shakiness in their voices and #especially the frustration in hermanns. he’s frustrated abt newt risking his life and is worried abt that which translates out in anger. #and yeah maybe he��s salty abt being proven wrong too lmao. BUT CONTINUING ON. stacker could have just told newt to go to hannibal chau and #he would have done it. but instead they watch the film of him on HERMANNS computer as HERMANN controls the computer to look at the film. if #thé film was shown it was for a reason. newt doesn’t seem like the type to need reassurance abt chau before he goes. he was willing to die #for his trash drift. and stacker gave him the card and info so there’s no need to do anything else. the video is most likely there for the #viewers but it needs a reason to be there in the show. hence my reasoning that HERMANN asked to see it out of concern for newt who would be #doinf this alone. hermann demanded to see some proof to reassure himself. stacker having the card on him makes sense. him having that bulky #tape doesn’t. meaning hermann pressured him into leaving getting the tape and coming back to show him. anyways one more bit. so the drift. #hermann is clearly scared out of his mind and thinking abt the impending triple event. yet he still drifts with newt he does it to protect #him to take part of the neural load. and it takes a toll on hermann it makes a big enough mess of his brain that he ends with him bleeding #and shaking and sweating and coughing and throwing up. and he knew it would take a toll. he knew it would be a lot he’s seen the jaegers. #he’s seen what happens. he knows it will be rough. he knows it’ll be much worse for him who wasn’t drifted then for newt who has. yet he #still does it to help newt and to show his care and trust and concern and love and THEYRE DRIFT COMPATIBLE U DONT UNDERSTANDABLE HOW #EMOTIONAL I AM OVER THIS FUCKING OVER THEM #anyways one last thing. the way that they full body slapping each other on the back bear hugged when the throat collapsed (they were behind #herc and tendo so it was a little hard to see. i missed it the first time) in pure adrenaline happiness before we see the quiet tender hug #when they know everything is over for good (for now at least) when it’s time to celebrate when it time to think abt their drift and their #bond and their relationship and their LOVE. i’m so ok abt them rn actually #toad.txt #i wish i wrote this in a keep reading bit and not the tags now. anyways #pacific rim #pacific rim spoilers #newton geiszler #hermann gottlieb #newmann

[marz-with-a-z]

Eclipse happened

#my pictures all suck because i was too busy freaking out like an ancient man thinking the world was ending #it was really cool i’m going to base my life around getting to see another one before i die

[villainsidestep]

also. unrelated to anything. past!rival fawn would be a killer

#gideon shut the hell up challenge #bc we were thinking abt it and honestly we’ve said before that overall they have a completely neutral view towards killing when necessary #like they wouldn’t go out of their way to do Murder or anything. but they’d be less apt to go out of their way to Save people #it’s less ‘oh I’m actively trying for deaths’ and more ‘if a few people die in this event I’ve accepted those losses’ #canon fawn v much strives to get back to hero days even as fate has other plans but #if their hero self Was who they had a problem with…. yeah no they’d be fine w death bc it’d further their villainy #canon fawn relies heavily on ‘this is not what heroes do’ and ‘the rangers wouldn’t want this’ mentality #whereas their Actual instinctive training falls under the ‘do whatever’s necessary’ umbrella (which ofc allows a few causalities) #I don’t think they’d kill blaze tho. they Would consider it !! but overall he’d be deemed as possibly beneficial #they’d let him live but keep it in mind that if he ends up playing Against them at a further point they can hunt and neutralize him

[pisces-gf]

driving got me feeling a Certain Way .

#i feel like im going insane like . #the number of ppl that just straight up have their whole ass phone right in front of their face is INSANE #like u know ur going to get someone killed right ?? RIGHT ????? #best case they’re causing unnecessary traffic which is also fucking infuriating like U CAN FUCKING WAIT TO SEND A TEXT. U CAN WAIT. #& it seems like running stop signs & red lights is becoming more regular like . #like . u know that’s gonna get YOU killed one day right???? ur gonna run a fucking stop & another idiot is also gonna run that same stop #& ur both hopefully going to die so therere less of you out here driving like fucjing assholes #i don’t fucking get it but ig there’s nothing to get bc they’re probably the stupidest pieces of shit ever & will never think they’re #in the wrong . #@everyone who does any or all of the above pls kill urself immediately i am so serious #while we’re on the topic they should put a brick wall at the end of lanes thatre about to end #if ur not going to fucking merge before the lane ends then ur not merging at all asshole #it’s ur responsibility to find a spot to merge in #it is not my job to make sure that the lil baby drivers have space to merge in a mile AFTER the fucking lane ends #don’t let me catch u out in the streets being a bitch bc i’m at my wits end .

[pinkfey]

was going to say this yesterday but lord forgive me all of a sudden i think max and warren are cute ://

#opinions that would have had me executed in the towns square in 2016 #lichrally never thought that abt them before though 🤔 #anyways.txt #delete later #the whole Thing around warren is an…… interesting look at fandom if i’m being honest #and i think a good example of a fandom misreading a game #like the ambiguity of relationships in lis is its selling point but the fandom jumps to black and white conclusions #which just isn’t how lis should be consumed and shared #it’s cool bc it allows you to shape your own reality and version of events and relationships !! #there rlly are few right or wrong interpretations when it comes to dynamics bc not only are the characters given room for complexity #but they’re approached via the show-don’t-tell method of writing #so everyone comes away from the game with varying ideas and none of them are ‘wrong’!! #but fandom just like. doesn’t understand that nuance at all. #so u get the ‘warren is a stalker’ crowd and the ‘rachel is a cheater’ crowd and the ‘the game means x’ crowd #(which btw meaning can be derived from both endings which like. no one seems to grasp at all. one is accepting that you can’t change realit #/run from it and have to face grief and the other is a means of defying fate and the universe telling you your beloved must die #those are both good and satisfying endings depending on how u want 2 play !!) #and those crowds get tunnel vision and demand that their version is the one true version etc etc #anyway i’m rambling i don’t know where i was going w this #but yeah. warren and max r nice 👍 and i think some ppl are delusional abt him it’s okay to just not like him