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arabellasleopardcoat · 8 months

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Capital (Daemon Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: You think you married the plainest woman on earth, and you look away for one second and suddenly she is not. Typical. At least, for Daemon.

Warnings: Mature language, sexual thoughts, canon typical violence.

Requested: Yes! But since I am particular about my aesthetic, I didn't answer there. Jealousy + arranged marriage. Brought to you by the seven deadly sins.

Gluttony /ˈɡlʌtəni/

the habit of eating and drinking too much.

Claw Island is as good as getting vanished from the court. You know it. Your Lord husband knows it. Even the tenants know it. Why else would the King order your marriage to Daemon Targaryen?

It was not as much of a punishment as the King had hoped. The Celtigars are a prestigious family, one of the few left with Valyrian blood. While not ones to flaunt their riches or seek for great power, you led a luxurious lifestyle.

The finest wines. Myrish rugs. The newest books. And of course, the riches from the surrounding sea. Beautiful pearls, a fleet that, while small, sailed with speed. The best foods.

The small island was your perfect little world, sequestered away from the troubles of the mainland. What else could a person long for, when they lived in a paradise? Claw Island had it all. Miles and miles of tempestuous sea, soft sands and gorgeous wildlife not seen anywhere else. Humble, but good people. Natural riches enough to last a lifetime.

But as of late, your breathtaking lands did nothing to bring you peace. Sometimes, in truth, as you walked along the shoreline, you wished for a tremendous sea wave to swallow you whole.

It would be better than this. Among the crabs, the sea life and wreckage of old ships, you would feel at ease. At home, even. And finally, finally untroubled. But things were not as you wanted them to be. With your Lord Father at court, someone had to mind the island. And no one knew the lands as you did.

You shuddered to think of something happening to you. In that case, the island, and its people, would go to your husband. Considering how much he hated it here, Prince Daemon would make a poor ruler.

You glare. He glares right back. Remembering your manners, you serve him a cut of spider crab seared in butter. The meal is rich and decadent, a show of the best Claw Island has to offer.

“Crab, Lady Wife?” Daemon raises both eyebrows. “Again?”

“What else does the Prince wish to eat?” You do your best effort at keeping your tone even. You try hard to not raise your voice at him, remembering the rumors about what happened to his last wife. So far, it seems to be working. Despite being older than you, the man behaves as a child. You have found he benefits from being managed as one, too.

Ever since you got married, he has been desperately trying to rile you up. The Prince always seemed to deflate when you refused to engage. He was clearly itching for a fight, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction.

“You seem too willing to indulge in cannibalism for my tastes.” Daemon, in what he surely believed to be the absolute demonstration of cutting wit, smirks. You smile at him, sedate. You have heard enough remarks about crabs to last a lifetime. “It’s worrying.”

You could answer him. Perhaps make a mockery of his inability to perform in bed and the behavior of the female praying mantis. You do not. Instead, you force yourself to give him a tight smile.

“Don’t worry. I will ask the servants to bring you fish.” You took your napkin out of your lap and placed it on the table. Dutifully, you rang the bell to call for a servant.

“Again?” Daemon complained, sounding much like a petulant child. You smiled and went back to your seat. Your crab was getting cold, and it would most likely be by the time your husband’s fish was served. But good manners dictated you could not start eating without him. You resigned yourself to another night of eating a cold dinner.

“You should write to the King, my Prince. I would serve you venison, were it not for the fact that your dragon has nearly extincted the population here.” While you were by no means poor, feeding a dragon was an expense you didn’t care for, especially one so picky as Daemon’s was showing to be.

While a dragon was a marvelous creature, and having one guarding your lands was a great perk, it was also hard. Caraxes ate the same as five grown men in a day, if not more. He didn’t eat just anything you served him, either. Much like his owner, he was picky. He had come with dragon keepers, and needed to be built a shelter.

You had hoped that his serpentine appearance would mean that he would eat a lot in one sitting, then hibernate, but no such luck. Your island couldn’t keep up, no matter how hard you tried. Animals didn’t reproduce at the pace required.

“Of course, my Lady. Of course.” Daemon says, in a dismissive tone. It’s then, when a servant comes in with his fish.

Your crab is cold. Again. Daemon is not pleased with the fish, but seems wary of extending dinner even more. For once, he doesn’t complain.

Dinner is eaten silently. In your head, you make plans for tomorrow's meals. Perhaps oysters, served cold, will withstand the wait better. You finish dinner and settle down to read some before bed.

When the time comes for it, you close your book. Daemon departs with a cold kiss to your cheek. You go to your bed, just as cold and empty as the kiss was, and fall asleep.

It’s around the witch's hour when he comes back to you, getting into the bed next to you. He stinks of cheap perfumes and oils. As he pulls you closer, to be able to hide his face on your neck, you can feel the smell of sex and alcohol induced sweat. It comes from the clothes Daemon hasn’t even bothered to shed before getting in bed with you.

You don’t like him drunk. He gets sloppy. You do better when he hides his indiscretions, the proofs of your failure as a woman. As a wife. He seeks his pleasure from other bodies, never yours. With you, he is unable to perform to completion.

Perhaps the same happens to him with others, on nights like these. That thought soothes you, and it’s the only reason why you allow Daemon to seek comfort in your arms. Sometimes, he has nightmares. It’s expected then, too, that you are the one to soothe him back to sleep.

Shifting in his grip, you rub his back, gently. You card your other hand through the matted strands of blonde hair, as a mother would do to his child. In many ways, you guess he is one. You pity him, your husband. A man with a void so deep, not even all the vices in the world could fill it.

You are unable to fall back asleep. You lay there for hours, staring at the ceiling. When you hear the rooster’s first crow, you roll out of bed. Sleep is not coming for you. Daemon, unperturbed in his slumber, only sprawls more. You tuck him in.

When you get to your vanity, you catch the servants leaving the correspondence for the day on it. She giggles when you point at the bed and the mess of clothes, gesturing for silence. It makes you feel better, that they think your husband comes from the pleasure houses straight into your arms for more than just cuddles.

One of the letters catches your eye. It’s written in the strange alphabet used for High Valyrian, bearing both the royal seal and the King’s name. You don’t mean to pry. In fact, you open it because you are worried your husband has upset his brother even more.

Marriage is like being tied to a ship. When the tides are good and the ship strong, you soar above the sea. But no one wants to be tied to a sinking ship. It’s that fear what leads you to heating a knife on your candle’s flame and lifting the seal.

You read as you brush your hair, unrushed. You know Daemon won’t be awake for at least six more hours. But the more you advance, skipping polite greeting, the more your stomach sinks, and you jump from sentence to sentence.

“And while I understand your dislike of Claw Island, it is a less harsh punishment than you deserve. Much you complained of wanting a Valyrian bride, and now the opportunity presents itself, ripe for the taking. Yet, you do not seem keen on it. Is it, again, the lack of a throne you find off-putting? Perhaps, the lack of a child bride you can manipulate? Your Lady Wife might not have purple eyes or silver hair, as you mention, but she is a maiden in the bloom of youth. Tales of her beauty have graced the court, shared among the eager mouths of her family and previous suitors. Both Lord Velaryon and Lord Mooton agree that the woman is a delight, well-mannered and easy on the eyes. She has impeccable breeding and education. I will not grant you the annulment. I will not allow you to go back to your whore.”

There is a coppery taste in your mouth. Blood, you realize. From biting your tongue so hard to avoid letting out a scream of rage. It feels like being stabbed, countless times. In your back, and in your heart. Betrayal and deep, hurtful sorrow.

What have you done to deserve this? To be blindsided so? You have stood firm through all the humiliations your husband puts you through. Never once reproaching the way he goes out after dinner and does not come back until sunrise. Never complaining of his audacity to search comfort in your arms when he is drunk and stinking of whores. Never once raising your voice at the insults to your people, your home, your family.

But for Daemon Targaryen, it wasn’t enough. You would never be enough. Childishly, when you had first heard of your betrothal to him, you had hoped for companionship, if not love. At least, you thought, you would have a friend. But you hadn’t been enough of a woman to keep him in your bed, you had not been enough of the blood of Old Valyria for him to give you children, and you had not been enough for him to stay married to you.

He took from you, and took from your island and from your family, and not once was he satisfied. Not once, he was sated. And now, Daemon has done the unspeakable. Not satisfied with making a mockery out of you, with his constant unfaithfulness, he seeks to ruin you further. It’s only King Viserys who protects you and your family from further embarrassment.

You have underestimated him, pitying him while he planned your demise. The ruin of your house. You have been sharing your bed with the enemy. The thought frightens you and fills you with anger at equal parts. What will happen, when the King dies and the awful Princess with whom your husband was so taken ascends? Will you be put to the sword, accused of an imaginary crime to get you out of the way? Treason, perhaps? Hands shaking in anger, you fold the letter and reseal it as carefully as you can.

That is the day you decide you will retreat into your shell, like any good crab. You will close yourself over, put up walls and keep him as far away as you can. And you will wait for the day to stab at his heels until his physique reflects exactly the useless kind of man he is inside.

One day, this man might kill you. You will have to make sure he does not get away with it.

Envy /ˈenvi/

the feeling of wanting to be in the same situation as somebody else; the feeling of wanting something that somebody else has.

It’s not often you are summoned to the court. But your father is about to be named Keeper of the Keys, a prestigious position often held by members of your house before being promoted to Master of Coin. The implication is clear. Soon, another Celtigar will be handling the finances of the Kingdom. It’s a ploy, to intertwine you further with the Royal Family. As soon as King Viserys dies, it will be your father who serves on Princess Rhaenyra’s council.

Hence, the need for a celebration. Traveling from Claw Island to King’s Landing is exhausting, especially considering that you do the journey by ship while your husband does so in his dragon. He seems overjoyed about it, but you can only think of how much the separate travel is costing your purses.

Daemon arrives early, because of course he does. Meanwhile, you spend your time preparing to put on the play of your life. You must be the most dutiful wife in the Seven Kingdoms, or else he might find a reason to get rid of you. Setting apart your most fashionable dresses, preparing gifts for the King and Queen and otherwise looking radiant.

Knowing Daemon, he is already whispering poison in his brother’s ear. You need to dazzle the King and the whole court, convince them you are not only an adequate wife but a perfect one. No stain must be perceived in your reputation.

You arrive punctually, just in time to prepare for the feast. It’s inside the Hall where you meet Daemon, and greet him with a kiss on the cheek. Chaste, but affectionate, performed under the King’s approving look. You are radiant in your house’s colors, with subtle references to Targaryen’s ones.

The feast is torture. Viserys, Daemon and Rhaenyra are all seated at the same table. They get along wondrously, while you, Queen Alicent and Ser Laenor are ignored despite being next to them.

The only thing that calms your heart is watching your father, sitting at the table of the Master of Coin.

“My Queen.” You say to her, hoping to curry favor. The Gods knew you needed as many allies as you could. “I brought you this.”

You take out a beautifully engraved rendition of the Prayers Book. It’s a gorgeous edition, with a gold finish. You hope that at least, if she doesn’t like it, she would think it is a gift to the babe she carries. It’s a thoughtful gift, the kind of thing you excel at.

“Oh, Lady Targaryen!” The Queen says, and takes it, admiring it in the light. Fortunately, she seems truly charmed by it. “It is the most wonderful thing!”

“I have one myself.” You tell her, as if you had not purchased it for exactly this moment. “When I heard you were from Oldtown, I couldn’t think of a better thing to bring.”

“It’s lovely.” Alicent says, as your husbands ignore both of you. Viserys and Daemon are too busy having their fun to care about what women are doing. “Will you join me in prayer tomorrow?”

“I would be delighted to.” It’s the first genuine smile you wear since your arrival. And it’s the first time that someone from the royal family smiles back.

You do attempts towards Rhaenyra and Laenor. They both ignore you, and so, you decide to keep strictly to conversing with Alicent. You decide to leave Viserys out of it, despite your gratitude to him because you would rather not look like much of a sycophant.

Your happiness at finally making a friend between your in-laws makes you oblivious to Daemon’s silence. During the whole dinner, he barely taunts you. None of the crab-based insults he so favors are present, either. That should have warned you. If you have learned something about your husband is that there is never a time when he is quiet.

He bides his time. The desserts are already served when Daemon delivers his greatest insult up to date. Some couples are even swaying to the rhythm of the music already, no matter if the tables have yet to be cleared.

“I wish to dance, I think.” Daemon says, getting up from his seat. You start to get up too, knowing you cannot refuse him, but he turns towards Rhaenyra. “A dance, niece?”

Rhaenyra preens under the attention and takes his hand. For a second, you stay frozen, hand falling uselessly by your side just when you were about to reach for him. You feel like you are being stabbed. Again.

The humiliation is so great you wish for some great disaster, perhaps one of the couples bumping against a table and overturning it, just to get the attention away from you. Half the hall has now seen you get rejected by your husband. In a celebration meant to honor your father, nonetheless.

You struggle to keep your face emotionless, curved into a polite little smile. You have made a fool of yourself. Hot tears gather in your eyes, threatening to spill.

Noticing your despair, Alicent places a hand on your arm, softly.

“Thank you, Lady Targaryen.” She exclaims, loudly. “With the babe getting bigger and bigger every day, I find it harder to stand. You are very thoughtful.”

Her rescue, as she stands and walks down the dais, helps you save face. Your smile turns more genuine.

“It’s but good breeding, my Queen.” You answer, just as loud. “What kind of noble could see a Lady of your station and not aid her?”

Alicent smiles, and she cradles her stomach.

“Indeed. Only a savage, I would think.” Her glance at her own husband is unmistakable. But Viserys is too busy watching Rhaenyra and Daemon dance to help his pregnant wife. His eyes never leave his brother and daughter, his expression twisted into one of annoyance.

Alicent makes her way towards a table where a few knights sit. Most of them are from Oldtown, and you cannot help but smile at her doing the rounds her husband so neglects. But her rescue, and quick exit, leave you in an uncomfortable position. King Viserys and Ser Laenor are engaged in conversation, including you only when they remember your presence, which means once every half an hour.

Without Queen Alicent, you have no conversation partner. The only thing you can do is watch. Daemon twirls around the room as if he were not a married man, taking every eligible bachelorette in the room for at least one dance. He is enchanting, pulling blushes left and right. He dances twice with Rhaenyra and Laena Velaryon.

You play your part to perfection. Each time he glances your way, you give him an indulgent smile or a sweet tilt of your head. Even when he dances again with Rhaenyra, your expressions don't shift. Instead, you lift your cup to them and even find it in yourself to give a small clap.

It’s torture. It’s exhausting, having to play the devoted but never jealous wife, when he is doing his best to embarrass you. Finally, the King retires, but orders that the celebrations do not stop. You consider making your way towards your father, uncaring if leaving Laenor sitting on his own is rude.

Just as you are getting up, a knight, dressed in a fine green gambeson, steps in front of you. You look up at him, wondering what he could possibly want.

His voice is soft and eloquent, with the barest hint of an accent. His voice reminds you of someone, but you cannot quite place who.

“Lady Targaryen. You look beautiful tonight.”

“Thank you.” You answer him, politely. Is he about to ask you for a dance? Is this a ploy for your husband to embarrass you further?

The knight smiles. He is tall and slender, very different from your husband, yet handsome just the same.

“If I had a wife as pretty as you, she wouldn’t be sitting here.” He compliments, and startles a laugh out of you. It has been months since the last time a man complimented you so. Before marrying, you had quite the suitors, but no one dared practice courtly love with the Rogue Prince’s wife. And your husband never once spoke to you kindly.

It’s a thrill, to feel wanted and appreciated again. You love having his eyes on you. It fills you with a forgotten kind of confidence. As the daughter of the man whose star in court is rising, as a beautiful woman and as the wife of a Prince, you deserve to be admired. It’s not your fault your husband can’t see it, you are desirable. People should be currying for your favor. You shouldn’t be begging for the scraps of a man whose only interest is his niece.

“Would she be on the dance floor?” You tease the knight, falling back into the practiced flirtations that had made you so popular before. You feel like you are glowing again.

The knight shakes his head, a hint of mischief appearing in his brown eyes.

“I would forbid her from leaving my chambers.”

At that, you laugh again, blushing. Despite how charming he is, you are still a married woman. You cannot give anyone reason to suspect or judge you, else Daemon might have basis to rid himself of you.

“I am not your wife.” You say, politely. The knight gasps, as if wounded, making you laugh again. You do not realize someone is glaring daggers at you, entranced as you are by him. “But perhaps a dance might suffice?”

The knight gives you a cheeky grin. He takes your hand and pulls you to your feet, gently.

As he leads you towards the dance floor, you barely notice Daemon looking disgruntled on the edge of it. You look over and see Rhenyra dancing with some tall and broad knight. He is probably jealous of him.

“You must give me your favor, for tomorrow's tournament. We are, after all, celebrating your family.” The knight says, making you focus back on him. His eyes are brown and kind, so soft. They remind you of someone, but once again, you can’t tell who.

“Ah, I see you are a tough negotiator.” You tease, your tone turning slightly more girlish. This time, it is the knight who laughs.

“What can I say? It’s in my blood.” The man winks, as he starts to twirl you around.

“I think, my lord, you have yourself a deal.” You grin.

It’s only when a Hightower knight approaches the stands the next day and offers you his lanze, you realize the mistake you have made.

Wrath /ræθ/

extreme anger.

Daemon can’t believe his ears. Out of nowhere, a sweet sound reaches him. It’s the sound of a Lady’s laughter, but something about it makes him turn his head.

Perhaps, the fact that the sound has managed to catch his attention at all, despite the loud music, chatter and other laughs. Perhaps it is that the sound is familiar to him. He doesn’t know what it is, but as the piece finishes, he steps aside and tries searching for the source.

It’s then he sees you. His wife. Glowing and laughing on that Hightower cunt’s arm. And no, it’s not Alicent he is referring to. Otto’s spawn seems to have a proclivity for you because this is the other one. The elder.

Gwayne. His hands all over you, a gentle touch to your lower back to guide you forward. And are your eyes brightening? For him? As you pass by Daemon, you barely spare him a glance. He manages to hear a piece of the conversation.

“Your favor, for tomorrow's tournament…” The man has the gall to ask, as if he could win you the flower crown! The nerve of that Hightower pup, to think himself able to win. It’s clear he doesn’t remember the last time he faced Daemon, and while he was already planning on entering, now he knows with absolute certainty he is competing. Gwayne Hightower seems to have forgotten his lesson. He needs to remember his place.

“… Tough negotiator…” Your cheerful voice answers. Probably telling him he has to win if you do so because you are Valyrian and proud like him. Surely, the idea of getting crowned Queen of Love and Beauty appeals to you. You want a flower crown? Daemon will get you the damn thing.

When he was no more than a boy, his father used to have a particularly overzealous hound. Daemon had taken great delight in setting him free just when ladies were visiting. The dog loved sniffing beneath the ladies' skirts and humping their legs. The whole scene often ended up with Daemon getting yelled at, either by the ladies or their husbands. Now, as he looked at the proverbial dog humping his wife, Daemon understood why the ladies' husbands were so enraged.

He should cut his hands. Hightowers. No sense of shame at all, with their whorish ways. They were all the same. There went Alicent, throwing herself at Viserys when poor Aemma was not even in her pyre. There went Gwayne Hightower, placing his paws all over you and trying to charm you when Daemon was still in the room.

Couldn’t he tell you are his? It’s not that Daemon likes you, but it’s an affront to his honor. You are the wife of a Prince. The mere fact that a measly knight thought he could compare it’s outrageous. And the fact that he dared touch you! The nerve!

It’s Daemon who shares your bed, back in Claw Island. It’s Daemon you hold during the night, who pays for your silly little dresses. It’s for him you have clearly gotten all pretty today. How dare he, that Hightower fool.

He can’t have you. Gwayne Hightower is not allowed to just swoop in and try to steal his woman. You are meant to sleep by his side, be his solace. You are not the kind of woman for whom a simple knight would be enough. Just like him, you love the lush life. Could Gwayne Hightower buy you a dress like that? Could he use a dragon to protect your little island?

Daemon clutches at his cup so hard, he thinks he might bend the metal. You are his bride. He is the only one allowed to have you. If he doesn’t want to, he doesn’t want to, but it doesn’t mean someone else can.

Rhaenyra approaches him again, no doubt wanting another dance. But not even her allure, which is usually so hypnotizing to him, manages to get him out of his bad mood. He hates when other people touch what is his.

Daemon decides to retire for the night, before she can reach him. He needs to think. How he longs for your shared rooms back at Claw Island. At least that way, he wouldn’t spend the night tossing and turning, wondering if the Hightower cunt escorted you back to your rooms, and if so, at which hour.

Strange, isn’t it? Such a small act can cause such a big shift in perspective. So many months, he had spent thinking of Claw Island a prison, longing to be able to come back to court. Now, he sees it as it was. A shell made to protect the most valuable pearl the sea had produced.

Had Daemon known men at court would try to steal his bride, he would have never authorized this trip. Your father could have been named Hand, but you would have never stepped foot outside your castle if Daemon had known. You would not be taken with Gwayne Hightower if he had a say in it.

He had a plan. The knight would make a fool out of himself. Daemon just had to encourage him in the right direction.

Daemon is up and about as soon as the sun is. He strolls towards the space prepared for the tournament, armor in hand. He changes slowly, giving plenty of time for Gwayne Hightower to arrive.

The foolish knight does. So do you, sitting next to your father in the stands, all pretty and glowy under the sun. You wear a red gown that compliments not only your skin tone, but pays homage to both of your houses. After all, both House Targaryen and Celtigar have red on their coats of arms. A clear show that you were meant to be his, and his alone. What would you even look like, if you were married to a Hightower fool? Red and green would look hideous in a dress.

As the highest-ranking competitor, Daemon gets to make the first challenge. To no one’s surprise, he picks Gwayne Hightower.

Daemon waits with bated breath, already seated on his horse. Does the man dare? Oh, he dares! The Hightower cunt gallops towards the stands. You don’t rise, looking towards the Hightower whore. It’s then he realizes you must be truly innocent. You are either doubting the boldness of the man or are not aware of his house, and do not recognize him under the armor.

But as Gwayne Hightower reaches the stand, Daemon close on his heels, he takes off his helmet. You gasp.

The Hightower whore makes a move as if to get up. Her brother’s voice cuts her off.

“I was hoping to get a sign of your favor, my Lady.” The man says to you, and your eyes widen. You stand, shakily. You look at Daemon, then at the cunt, then at him, then back at the cunt. Daemon arches an eyebrow, visor lifted. “For you have already struck me with your beauty, and the fact that you cannot be mine. Allow me the consolation of placing a crown of flowers upon you, and soothe my wounded heart.”

You gasp at the bold declaration. Daemon has to admit it, the cunt has some nerve. Not only has he praised you in ways that are too bold even for a couple courting, but he has slighted Daemon in front of the whole court. He has made explicit mention of your marriage to him.

Viserys eyes him warily. Daemon scoffs. The distrust is unnecessary. Why would he slaughter the Hightower now, when he has the chance to plummet him into the ground without consequences in just a few minutes? Besides, it would be in bad taste, slaughtering the brother of his sister-in-law.

Your father urges you forward, with a forced laugh. You grasp one of the favors from your box, which has only two, and place it upon the Hightower’s lanze. The pretty ribbons sway in the wind. White and red from House Celtigar proudly displayed.

Daemon clears his throat, and presents his own lanze.

“How touching.”

You ignore him, as Rhaenyra approaches. Surely thinking how he will want to wear her favor, after his rejection of last night. Curse him, Daemon thinks. He should have danced with you. If he had known that up jumped son of a rat was going to try his luck, you would have not left Daemon’s arms the whole night.

“Thank you, niece. But today I fancy wearing my wife’s favor. For it would be a shame for her to be lacking her crown once her champion undoubtedly disappoints.” He loudly declares, uncaring if his niece’s face falls. Rhaenyra will get over it. But this has turned into a manhood competition. He can’t let Gwayne Hightower, of all people, win.

“Can I do that?” Daemon hears you whisper towards Viserys and his whore. “Can I have two champions fighting each other?”

Viserys, as if this is the most fun he has had in a while, answers cheerfully.

“Of course, my dear girl.” It probably is the most fun he has had in a while. Really. It must be very amusing to him, after hearing Daemon complain about you for months. Who would have known he would have to fight some Hightower for your attention? Laughable, really. A Prince groveling. “Double the chances for you to get the flower crown, is it not?”

“Of course.” Your father jumps in, clearly trying to prevent a scandal. “Go on, love. Give the other one to your husband. If more are needed, we will get more ribbons.”

You approach Daemon, pretty little favor on your delicate hands. You smile at him, pleasantly. But this close, he can tell you are shaken by the power play happening right in front of your eyes.

Daemon lowers his lanze as you stretch to place your ribbons. You give him a confused and hurt look. He stretches closer.

“Save that one.” Daemon says, as he places a hand on your hair and pulls out the red ribbon that holds it back. “I’m your husband, I get some privileges.”

His gesture makes you laugh. Daemon feels on top of the world. He gives a superior glance to the Hightower cunt, as if saying: Look at me, I do not need half your effort and get double the results.

Daemon is not so deluded as to think the laugh is more than half nervousness and half playing the part of the dutiful wife you are, but to Daemon is still a win. He can see why the other lords want you. With your hair loose, smiling and with your skin glowing from the sun, you are actually quite pretty.

He ties the ribbon around the pommel of the lanze.

“A kiss, for good luck?” Daemon knows he is pushing, but cannot help but be smug. His pretty wife gave him her hair ribbon to tie around his chosen weapon, for all the court to see. Smugness radiates out of his pores.

Without any expectation, the sweet peck you give him is even more of a delight. Even more sweet is the disgruntled look on Gwayne Hightower's face.

Safe to say, the man gets unseated so fast, it has to be the quickest defeat ever registered. The crunch he makes as he falls from his horse it’s the most satisfying sound Daemon has ever heard. The crowd gasps and cheers. The man does not get up.

That will teach him, he decides. Gwayne Higtwoer will never again even look your way. Daemon turns his horse back around, ready to face his next opponent, but it’s stopped by the pages.

“Ser Gwayne Hightower has requested to continue with the sword.” At that, his blood boils. He nearly jumps off his horse, discarding the lanze and unsheathing Dark Sister.

“What will it be, boy? First blood?” He saunters towards the man, and the sight of him this close only serves to anger him more. He shares Otto’s slender build, tall and slight. In Hightower armor, he even looks like him. Daemon is going to enjoy this.

“Why stop there?” The knight asks, hatefully. “Until one of us yields.”

“As you wish.” Daemon charges, forgoing his shield. He is just too angered for politeness. This is not jousting anymore, it’s his hate for Higtowers, and the fact that this man has tried to take something that’s his. He should have never looked your way. Never. And if it’s up to Daemon, perhaps he will leave the arena without the ability to repeat the feat.

The fight is quick and dirty, but even when he has disarmed and cornered him, Gwayne Higtower refuses to yield.

“What are you..?” Daemon asks, utterly confused because the little savage is grabbing Dark Sister with gauntled hands and pulling.

“Just as marriage is not an excuse for not loving…” He grins, teeth bared in a feral little grin, and Daemon lets go of his sword in surprise at the boldness of the fool. “No weapon is no excuse for yielding.”

He loses it, then. Later, he will only remember red. Daemon throws himself at him and starts punching him, until the asshole goes limp on his arms and has to be pulled away from him.

Only the fact that the Hightower fought back is what allows him to keep participating in the tournament, instead of being exiled again. The split lip and bleeding eyebrow do serve to build a case in his favor.

He wins the tournament without any opposition. With bloody hands, he places the flower crown on your head. Your horrified look is not as satisfactory as he would have thought.

Pride /praɪd/

the feeling that you are better or more important than other people.

Daemon manages to get a hold of you before you vacate the stands. You are trying to avoid the crowds, waiting patiently in your seat. He doesn’t allow it, urging you towards his chambers with a firm grip on your wrist.

Some other ladies titter and giggle, pointing towards the two of you. No doubt, they think he is about to ravish you. They are not wrong.

It’s not often Daemon feels desire for you. In truth, while you have a pretty mouth and a soft body, you do little for him. But today, you are enchanting. The flower crown still sits atop of your windswept hair, making you look like a forest nymph. There are a few red stains along your temple, left there by Daemon’s hands when he placed the crown on top of your hair.

Never has there been a woman more deserving of the title of Queen of Love and Beauty. As you walk with him down the halls, he feels a smug sort of satisfaction. Here is the woman half the court wants, Daemon wants to scream. Here is my wife.

The feeling is not unfamiliar to him, but it is in relation to you. His possessive nature so far has only extended towards members of his house. The lust is new, too. Daemon has experimented it many times, but never towards whom he should.

As soon the door closes after you, he kisses you forcefully, only for you to shove him away.

“What are you doing?” You ask, as you spit out some of his blood. You are remarkably strong, having been able to push him while still in armor. But what shocks him the most is the fact that you did it at all. Months of marriage and you have done nothing but smile, regardless of what Daemon does.

“Shh, Lady Wife. Nothing unusual, I assure you.” He pulls you back in, kissing along your neck. This time, you push him even harder.

Daemon stumbles and blinks, hard. Are you rejecting him? He sits down on the bed and takes off his helmet. He has beaten the Hightower fool half to death and won you the silly flower crown. Why would you reject him?

“You prefer him, don't you?” That has to be the answer, surely. You must be having an affair with the cunt. Why else would you reject him? It’s not allowed. While Daemon is not particularly keen on forcing you, you are his wife. He has a right to your body, and you shouldn’t deny him. You know it. Never before have you refused him, due to the same reason. So this must be something else.

“What nonsense are you on, now?” You barely lift your eyes from your work, busy with pouring some water in a bowl and taking out clean linens. Efficiently, as if a seasoned healer, and not a soft lady from Claw Island, you rip them apart.

“Don’t play daft, wife.” Daemon reproaches, scowling. Your innocent act is starting to tire him. You can’t possibly believe him so dumb. “It doesn’t suit you.”

“If this is about Ser Gwayne…” You start and he feels the urge to scream. He can’t help but cut you off.

“Of course it is! Of course it is about that fucking Hightower.” Daemon’s voice goes high-pitched, imitating yours. “Ser, Ser.” He rolls his eyes. “How easily they hand titles now. Is every scum in this realm a knight?”

Your face doesn’t even twitch. That is one of the things about you that drive him to insanity. No matter what Daemon says, he never seems to get a reaction. It’s infuriating. You are all manners and dimples, even in the face of the most vile insults he throws your way. You either have no honor, letting him stomp all over you, or you think him right. Pathetic. Even the Bronze Bitch bit back.

His nostrils flare. Softly, you step between his parted legs and dab at the cut on his brow with a soaked linen. Ever dutiful.

“You do know adultery is a crime.” Daemon says, in a low, threatening tone. You give him a pleasant smile, squeezing water out of the cloth. It runs red and fast down your wrist.

“So is incest.” Your voice is far too cheerful for someone who just got accused of a crime that’s punishable by death if he so chooses. And not only that, but you have the nerve to threaten him.

“I am a Targaryen.” Daemon practically growls. You glare at him. He should be angry, but instead, his loins seem to heat up. Who can fault him? Any man would feel the urge to take you over and over, when faced with those eyes and those lashes.

Surely, after it, you would understand you were his and not Gwayne Hightower’s. It was not such an ambitious plan. Perhaps a lesser man would have trouble with it, but not Daemon. Give him ten minutes between your legs and you would be singing his praises.

“And I am a Celtigar.” His pause has allowed you enough time to form a retort. You press down on the cut on his brow with a viciousness that startles him. Daemon winces in pain. No getting distracted, he notes. Less you murder him when he is not paying attention. “To stifle the blood flow.” You explain, but Daemon can see the bloodlust in your eyes. You want him to hurt. The past few months have not gone in vain, it appears.

“Mine, you are mine.” He replies, gruffly.

You let go of the cloth, hands on your hips. Your mouth opens and closes, astonished.

“You don’t have any right to speak those words to me.” How he longs to grab you and show you exactly who is in charge. There you are, screaming! You! The woman who Daemon doubted knew how to make sounds louder than polite conversation. “Am I not the bride you never wanted? Your chain? Well then, sail free. Go!” You scream, and Daemon needs to pick his jaw off the floor because never has he seen you this angry.

Are you screaming at him? He feels the urge to pinch himself, to see if he is dreaming. But the way you are pointing your finger towards the door seems very real. Still a bit confused by the sudden personality change, Daemon does not obey.

It feels like a dream. Like stepping into a parallel world. The words that come out of his mouth are spoken by a stranger, and he can only watch as you turn more and more furious.

“No. Come here.” Daemon grabs at your gown, trying to pull you into him. He doesn’t really know what he is going to do if you budge. Place you in his lap and placate you with a kiss? He doesn’t get to find out. Grabbing you has clearly been the wrong move.

You slip out of his grip with a harsh jerk. Daemon is not as young as he used to be, but the sight makes his lust bubble up. You are alluring when angry, all passionate lines, and bloody temples. Valyrian, in a way you had never been before, with your darker coloring and soft manners. Yet, when mad? You are a conqueror goddess made flesh.

“No! I will not. I am not yours. We might be married but I will…” You stomp your foot at him, all angry little crab. For the first time, he sees fire in you.

Such a shame this is the moment you chose to grow a spine. He couldn’t understand where you had been all this time. So many months wasted with the meek little wife, when he could have had you instead.

Why had you decided to show you had a personality now, of all times? It was not fair, if it was for that Hightower cunt.

“Why Gwayne Hightower? Out of all the men on earth?” Daemon mutters, clearly not low enough because you answer him.

“This is not about Gwayne Hightower.” You glare, crown of flowers balancing precariously on top of your head. As you move, a few petals fall down. Angry little dryad that you are, you bat them away.

“If not, what is it about?”

“You!” You scream at him. It’s hateful, it's rage filled, it’s everything you are usually not. A true Valyrian goddess, letting mere mortals feel her might. Daemon would have enjoyed the display more if he wasn’t the mortal in question. “I forgot what it felt like to be wanted. To be looked at as someone who was desirable. Do you know how I have felt? Begging for scraps of attention, trying to make this work?”

“Wife…” He pleads because now there are tears in your eyes, and while Daemon doesn’t do begging, he doesn’t do comforting either.

“Do not call me that! Didn’t you petition for an annulment?” And how had you found out about that? While he had not been exactly secretive with his correspondence, he didn’t believe you to be proficient in High Valyrian. He has no time to ponder on it because you intend to go further. “Well, you are in luck! I will make my own request!”

“Viserys will not allow it.” Even if Daemon has to go beg him on his knees to not grant it, you are not annulling this marriage. Not when he is just starting to see the real you.

“Fine! Then I am going back to Claw Island. Stay here.” You scream, and you look so determined it scares him. For a second, he actually thinks you have the power to ban him from the island and force him to stay, giving you plenty of time to receive visitors. Male visitors, all surrounding you, courting you, as if he were already dead and not just exiled.

“Look. I’m sorry. Can we start over?” Daemon offers, in his most pleading tone. He has not apologized since… Gods. He barely remembers how to do it.

“You made me forget I deserved more than scraps.” You laugh at him, as his first apology to someone in more than ten years is the funniest joke existing. Then, enraged. “It will be a cold day in the Seven Hells, when I give you another chance.”

Hurt. He realizes, as you throw the flower crown at his feet and slam the door. Hurt. You are hurt, not angry. He has done the worst thing a man can do to a woman. Damage her pride.

Lust lʌst/

very strong sexual desire, especially when love is not involved.

Much to your dismay, every time you try to speak alone to the King, you are swiftly intercepted. If it’s not Corlys Velaryon asking you to help him pick a book in the library, it’s your Lord Father summoning you to his chambers. It seems like the whole palace is in it because even Princess Rhaenys asks you to stroll with her through the gardens when you lurk too close to Viserys’s chambers.

Daemon was smarter than you thought. He had taken to using your own weapons against you. The need to be polite kept you from rejecting all these new invitations, and so, you often ended up stuck an entire afternoon with nonsensical plans.

As time passes, your rage starts to subside. Much to your disgust, it morphs into shame. You cannot believe how you lost control in front of Daemon. Everything you have worked so hard on could vanish for a single afternoon pf foolishness.

You would rather not be his enemy. When the time comes for the two of you to go back to Claw Island, Gwayne Hightower is still bedridden, despite it already being days. Daemon is a dangerous man to cross.

Strangely enough, he doesn’t seem angry, or even resentful. In fact, your husband has never been more attentive. With the talent of existing just at the right moment, Daemon appears at your side each time there is a door to be opened or a chair to be pulled.

“No one has ever seen him like this.” Queen Alicent marvels, as he watches him go fetch you a blanket in case the room is too cold for your liking. “Whatever you did to him…”

“Nothing, I assure you.” You answer, sternly. You don’t want her getting funny ideas, like that you are dabbling in witchery or the Seven knows what. It’s not something you can afford. Already balancing on a tightrope after the fight, any accusation could be your ruin. You do not trust Daemon’s change of heart. He is probably just biding his time.

Noticing something is amiss, Daemon comes back with the blanket, wrapping it around you. Alicent falls quiet.

Daemon stares at you, his hands lingering on your back more than necessary. He seems to be taking you in. His eyes fixate on your bosom a tad too long before you realize what he is doing, and you cover yourself more with the blanket.

Your cheeks heat up. You cough. Alicent’s brows raise.

“You are so beautiful, wife.” Daemon says, a bit dumbly.

“And you are a fool.” Your response is heated, and stupid, too. But you feel too embarrassed to care. Alicent is still sitting there, with a scandalized look on her face. Anyone would be ashamed to be the object of such obvious ogling, much less when they have never been exposed to it.

You are unused to this side of your husband. At most, when trying to consummate, Daemon would glance at you with disdain and proclaim it was all your fault. His eyes would never watch the heaving of your chest as you breathed, or the sway of your skirts when you walked. Were you superstitious, you would have thought him a man possessed.

Daemon laughs, either at your comment or your expression. It’s good, you suppose. At least he has not taken offense. You would have thought he would be angered, never one to suffer affronts to his pride without reacting.

“Your fool.” He leans down and places a kiss on your forehead, before walking away.

You stare at him. Alicent stares at you. Neither says anything. You are not sure what to make of it. It’s strange. It’s him now, who serves you dinner. The choicest cuts of meat, the sweetest of wines and meads, never asking for anything in exchange.

He has gotten unusually affectionate. Or possessive. Whatever it’s going through his mind, you don’t know. Daemon has never been open about his thoughts and feelings with you, unless they stem from displeasure.

Perhaps it’s a burst of boastfulness. He flaunts you, a hand on your waist, lower arm, whatever he can get away with. He is suddenly interested in the dresses you wear, commenting on them and gifting you new ones just because he thinks they would suit you. You do not miss the fact that the dresses are always in his house’s colors or styles he personally favors, with intricate needlework and embroidery.

It’s interesting. Once again, his testing of boundaries seems to come back. His hands are always playing with the curls at the nape of your neck, or the folds of your skirt. You have even caught him toying with the buttons of your bodice. It borders on the inappropriate.

“You are pushing it.” You say to him when his hands curls around yours as you dance. He is supposed to keep his hand extended for this step. He doesn’t seem to care. The other guests give him amused looks. No one is about to chide a Prince for his lovesick behavior towards his wife. Especially in a goodbye feast for the couple.

In truth, you are starting to think most of the fathers at court are relieved. If the Rogue Prince is chasing after his wife, then he is not chasing their daughters.

“Holding your hand is pushing it?” Daemon holds your hand more securely, as he makes you spin. This is another new and unexpected development. Now, he only dances with you. No heated looks at Rhaenyra, no longing glances towards Laena. You are not sure how you feel about it.

“It is. You are inconveniencing everyone.” You say, as he spins you again with a flourish. Despite wanting so badly to keep being cross with him, you cannot help but laugh with childish delight. What girl doesn’t want to be twirled around and made to feel special? “You are supposed to exchange partners.”

The balance of the dance has been thrown off by his refusal to let go of you. Any time there needs to be a switch, the couples flounder around the two of you. It’s childish on his part, but he seems unwilling to let you dance with another man.

“Oh, you haven’t seen me pushing it yet.” Daemon laughs, and pulls you in until your body is flush against his. It’s improper and probably not allowed. Scandalous, even. Yet again, no one is about to say anything.

Much less you, suddenly realizing that being pressed so close to Daemon is quite enjoyable. He smells surprisingly clean this evening. No trace of alcohol on his skin, or other women’s perfumes. Instead, he smells of the soap he usually favors and some sort of aromatic oil.

“Will you push further, then?” You raise your brows. It’s sort of amusing that Daemon is trying so hard. You would have not taken him for the seducing type, not when he had been so keen on dissolving your marriage.

“I will.” Daemon leans in, to whisper in your ear. His voice is low, thick with desire. It makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. “I want you. I burn for you. I need you in my bed, on top of me, under me, any way you will let me have you.”

You give a scandalized little gasp, softly hitting his shoulder. Daemon grins, pulling you in even more. The two of you are so close, you imagine you can feel his heart beating against yours.

“I’m not done.” He chuckles, leaning in to kiss your jaw. Daemon’s lips trail kisses towards your ear, teasingly blowing some air against it. “I want to spend the nights feasting between your thighs, on the valley of your breasts…”

“Stop it! We are in public.” You squeak, yet you look up at him like a flower searching for the sun. The attention he bestows on you is flattering, and you can't help but want to hear more.

“Do you want to hear a secret, wife? Every time you walk, I find myself lost in the sway of your hips. I want to drown on it. Drown on you. Until no trace of another remains, until the taste of your lips is the only thing I know.”

By this point, your skin feels so hot you worry you are about to combust. You gape at him. Not only has he dared to make a bold declaration, but he has done so in a room full of people.

You take a moment to gather yourself. Daemon could be bluffing for all you know, and so, you decide to match him. You brush your thumb against his cheekbone, feather-light.

“Then do it. No one is stopping you. Come to bed. Drown on me. Drink me, take me, ravish me.” You are trembling, and you only realize it when Daemon holds you tighter against him. You feel feverish, voice lowered to an urgent whisper. “Give me Valyrian sons, to hold my island when we are both gone.”

“No. No.” He says, against the curve of your neck, embraced much closer than the dance requires, making a spectacle. “I want them to have your smile and your eyes, and that infuriating curve of your shoulder. Give me daughters with your smart mouth, and your even temper. I want them to be proof of the love I had for you.”

You tremble more. Love. He really said… Oh, by the Seven.

“You are shaking.” Daemon kisses your brow. “Don’t. Unless it is from pleasure.”

Laughter rings in your ears. It's yours, but it feels foreign. You are too stunned to think clearly. Daemon tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear.

“Are you still there, Lady Wife?” He taps at your lower lip with his thumb. There is a teasing tilt to his smile, but his eyes are nervous. Vulnerable. Daemon was clearly not planning on confessing tonight. “Or have I broken you?”

“Prove it.” You say, still caught up on the love part. His declaration has sent your mind reeling, and shown you all of your latest interactions in a new light. You don’t know if Daemon knows what he is doing. He is a deeply passionate creature, much like his house’s sigil. Daemon doesn’t do infatuations, nor does he do dislikes. He loves or hates, and there is no in between.

“I will.” He promises, playing with a stray piece of hair that has fallen out of your up do. “Our whole lives. But perhaps I can start tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” You frown, puzzled. You even pull back from his embrace to be able to look at his face. What an odd thing to say. Despite it, you admire the utter shamelessness he has about it. Were it you the one accidentally confessing, you would be a bundle of nerves.

Daemon doesn’t even blush. Of course, there is the small fact that he believes himself to be the Seven’s gift to humankind. You suppose if you believed yourself to be irresistible, you wouldn’t be nervous either. Cockiness wasn’t something you thought did it for you, but it seemed like you were learning new things every day.

“You will see.” Daemon smiles. You let him keep his secret, figuring it can’t be anything that bad.

You discover what he means when you arrive at Claw Island. A dragon egg waits for you, the fireplace clearly modified in a hurry, judging by the new stones and bricks that were added to the hearth.

“Even if it never hatches, I want you to have it. For you are as Valyrian as we are, and I was a fool not to see it sooner. You are worthy. It should have been on your cradle as a child.”

Greed /ɡriːd/

a strong desire for more wealth, possessions, power, etc. than a person needs.

The way his eyes trail after you now, it’s quite unfamiliar. Not lust, nor disdain. Something entirely new. Heavier.

Your afternoons have been filled with new entertainment. You coo at the egg, holding it over the fire. Sometimes, Daemon kneels beside you and helps you hold it, making a game of it. How long before either of you gets burned? How long can you endure, hands so close to the fire, before you are yelping and giving it to him?

When you think he is not looking, you speak to it in High Valyrian, whispering soft promises of how loved him or her will be once it hatches. There is no doubt in your mind it will. Perhaps not in weeks, or even months. Yet, your heart tells you there will be a dragon before your life ends.

Every night, you place the egg in the bed next to you. On your side, you curl around it, trying to share your warmth. Daemon reaches forward, sometimes. When he thinks you are asleep, his hand will curl over your waist and touch the egg, pressing it more against your stomach. You wonder what he means by it.

Does he know what he is doing? The low lullabies he half sings, half mutters under his breath indicate a yes. The way his lips curl into a soft smile against your nape show a longing that’s very much not subconscious.

Just as a pot of boiling water, the egg hatches a night no one it’s looking at it. Both Daemon and you are curled in a love seat, engrossed in a book. He is reading something about the doom of Valyria, your legs over his lap. You are submerged in a text about a man’s travels around the Free Cities.

One of his hands is wrapped around your ankle, in the sweetest of chains. Each time he flips a page, he will brush it with his thumb, softly. While not unwelcome, it’s strange. You are not used to being comforted in the same way you did for him during the first months of marriage. While Daemon doesn’t expect any kind of retribution, you find yourself granting it anyway.

The domesticity is quickly broken, however, when a strange noise fills the halls of your home. At first, you are unable to hear it through the background noise, but if you strain your ears, you can just make it out. It’s a shrill cross between a bird’s chirps and someone crying.

“Daemon?” You close your book and stare at him. Unable to help it, you get a little sidetracked, watching his face. His mouth is pursed in concentration, the candlelight giving his features a golden glow. Despite him being several years older than you, you cannot help but find him terribly handsome. Age has only turned him more distinguished. You betted he was dashing when younger, but unlike his brother, he has aged like a fine wine.

Sensing your eyes on him, he gives you a lazy smile.

“Little wife.” His voice comes out in a pleased rumble at having caught you looking. Your face heats up. Daemon's eyes shift from yours, to your mouth, then back to your eyes. You squirm under his gaze, trying to focus.

“Do you hear that?” You force yourself to utter.

“Hear what?” Daemon leans more towards you, his hand squeezing your knee. You give a small, delighted shiver. Good gods, what is it about him that gets you to turn into a puddle of want with the simplest touch?

“Some sort of animal crying.”

Daemon frowns. He tilts his head to the side, as if to listen better. You keep quiet, hoping to aid him. Then, his face breaks out in the biggest grin.

“It hatched! You amazing, wonderful woman.” He praises, pulling you into him. The hug is awkward, but it doesn’t last because you are too eager to see the baby dragon. Your dragon. You squirm out of his hold and rush out of the room, not even bothering to put on shoes, Daemon hot on your heels.

When you open the door to your chambers, you find the cutest thing ever. A baby dragon, slimy and confused, sits in the middle of his egg in the fireplace. It’s all big, dark eyes and long limbs, much like a baby horse. Unable to resist the temptation, you reach towards them.

“I do not…” Daemon tries to stop you, but the baby dragon climbs right up into your arms, curling close to your chest. Eager to touch it, you let it climb over your shoulder and nuzzle you, even if the sudden weight makes you stagger a little.

“That was really dangerous.” Your husband reprimands, trying to lift it away from you. The baby dragon snorts towards his direction, as if attempting to breathe fire. It only manages to give a cute little sneeze. Daemon glares.

“Aw, you are just like a baby.” You coo at the dragon, petting its head. Daemon looks even more disgruntled.

“Your dragon tried to burn me.” He complains.

“It’s a baby, husband. They don’t know any better.” You rub the scales on its back, soothingly. Unwilling to let go, you find yourself looking around your bedroom. “Let it stay here? Just for tonight.”

Daemon glares. You give him your biggest, most pleading eyes. He relents.

“Fine. But it’s not sleeping on the bed with us. And only for tonight.”

“Only for tonight.”

A month after, and the baby dragon is still sleeping in your bed. He has taken to laying between Daemon and you, leeching off your warmth. Daemon complains of having to sleep on the edge of the bed and his back being sore, but despite it, never once asks you to send the dragon outside with Caraxes.

The trouble starts, how not, with a trip to King’s Landing. This time, you ride with him, as a passenger to Caraxes, while the baby dragon follows. When Daemon lands, the dragon keepers fret around your baby, unsure of what to do with the unexpected visitor.

You command him to stay by your side, despite the protests of the dragon keepers. You are arguing and complaining and shielding your baby while Daemon only watches, amused.

Perhaps the commotion attracts more people, or someone calls for them, but you end up cornered as King Viserys makes his way to the dragon pit.

“What do we have here?” He asks, smiling at you. You give him a nervous look. Your dragon has gotten bigger, and so, you can not pick him up gracefully, but you usher him behind you regardless.

“Nothing, your grace.” You say, lacking your usual charm. You feel nervous about leaving the baby dragon on his own in the dragon pit. What if the other dragons don’t like him? What if he gets lonely?

With one hand, you reach for Daemon. His fingers meet yours halfway, squeezing reassuringly. More often than not, being a woman, your orders were not taken seriously. But if your husband gave an order, people would rush to obey. You hope he intercedes in your favor.

“Daemon, please.” You say, under your breath. “Don’t let them send him away. He will behave.”

“What do I gain, little wife?” He asks, interlocking your fingers together. Daemon gives his most charming grin to his brother, before pulling you into him. You go willingly, body lax and pliant for him. “A kiss, perhaps?”

“Please.” You turn to look at him, hoping to move him. This close, once again, you feel slightly distracted. Your husband smells so nice, and his hands feel so good around your waist, it’s no hardship at all. You press a kiss to his cheek.

“Must you always arrive with such a ruckus?” Viserys frowns. Daemon gives him a small smile.

“You know me.” Slowly, he starts to lead you towards the Red Keep, a hand placed protectively on your lower back. The message is clear. Daemon wants you to make your dragon follow you. You don’t even need to order it because your baby, smart as it is, is already following. The dragon keepers step back, muttering unhappily.

“Is it going inside?” Viserys point at your dragon. Foolishly, you had been hoping he didn’t notice, and so, your stomach drops. But Daemon doesn’t falter, strolling confidently inside as if he owned the place.

“He will behave. As long as no one touches her.” Normally, you despise when people talk about you as if you are not there. Currently, though, you can only feel relief that your dragon is not getting sent to sleep outside in the cold. He is just too little for it.

Viserys walks you towards his private dining room. A blonde child runs around, playing. The Princess and Ser Laenor are already there. And Alicent is even more heavily pregnant than before.

“How have you been?” You ask Alicent, sitting next to her. You half expect to be left out of the conversation as you were a few months before, and so, choose to sit next to someone who has been kind to you. The baby dragon hops on your lap when you take your seat.

Alicent looks absolutely horrified.

“Good enough.” She speaks, blinking slowly. It’s clear she cannot believe her eyes. She stares at the dragon in a mix of awe and fear.

“He is harmless.” You explain, petting it as if it were a small dog and not a baby dragon. “Do you want to pet him?”

Alicent reaches forward with a trembling hand. The dragon sniffs her, and curls to sleep again.

“… And I was thinking of changing the layout of the hall, to make sure he fits…” You hear Daemon complain, and your ears immediately perk up. Is he talking about your baby?

“So you keep it inside?” Viserys asks, sounding disbelieving.

“I have never seen such a close bond.” Daemon boasts. He sounds as if he is proud of you, you realize. It makes something warm flutter in your stomach. No longer are you the wife he never wanted and tried to get rid of. “Damn thing sleeps on the bed with us. It’s better trained than a dog, seriously. We should have given Celtigars dragons a long time away.”

“Why not leave it outside?” From where you are seated, you can’t see his face, but you imagine by his tone, Viserys is smiling.

“She will riot. She loves him as her own son.” Daemon explains. You keep your eyes trained on the nervous Alicent, who has managed to lay her hand on top of your dragon’s head. She looks about to bolt.

“Isn’t he the nicest thing?” You say to Alicent, excited. “He thinks I am his mom, or something. Isn’t it great?”

Alicent does not look as impressed as you hoped for, but she gives you a kind smile. She seems willing to tolerate your eccentricities if for the sake of not having to make conversation with Rhaenyra.

“Very nice.” She compliments. “Pretty colors. Prince Daemon was very kind, giving it to you.”

“He is.” You smile, softly. “Although he complains all the time.”

Alicent shrugs. This time, both of you tune in the conversation between Daemon and Viserys.

“Perhaps, as you build him something outside, you can distract her with an actual baby.” Viserys says. Alicent looks torn at the comment, and you can’t help but feel slightly embarrassed by the topic.

It’s not something you had thought about before. Well, you had. Never with him, though. As a girl, you dreamed of being a mother, and as a woman, Daemon and you had discussed the issue of heirs already. You had spoken about it during your last goodbye feast, in this same castle. But those words had been spoken in the height of passion, and neither of you had done anything about it.

“Trust me. Next time she holds a babe, it will be a proper human one.” Daemon says, and his hand finds yours over the table. You look up at him, meeting his purple eyes. He looks hungry. Starved, even.

You lower your eyes demurely. Viserys laughs. And Daemon, greedy as he is, lifts your hand to his mouth and presses a soft kiss to your knuckles.

Sloth /sləʊθ/

the bad habit of being lazy and unwilling to work.

The light filters in through the open curtains, giving the room a soft glow. Daemon’s face scrunches up, bothered by the sunlight in his eyes. He has tried to convince you to sleep with them drawn, but you are unwilling. To you, the best way to wake up is slowly, with the sun. Or so you say. He is not very convinced.

Daemon stretches. You reach for him in your sleep. He gives himself a moment to savor it, the fact that he can finally pull you closer. The dragon is finally gone from his bed, although he is no way near distracting you with a babe.

Dragons are not pets. Daemon had been taught that since the cradle, even before he had a dragon of his own. Their control over them was only an illusion, and so, they should be trusted but feared. He had lived by that rule, never once questioning it. Until you.

Watching you raise yours as if it were your own child had proven interesting. You lacked his education about them, but you made up for it by sheer enthusiasm. The fact that your dragon had not bitten your hand off yet or burned you to a crisp could only mean two things: You were some sort of forest nymph, or they were mistaken about their approach to dragons. He knew which one he thought was true.

How much was nature, and how much was nurture in their relationship with dragons? Trying to answer that question would occupy his entire lifetime. Daemon hoped that watching you gave him some insight. Even if he ended up discovering you were a nymph in disguise or some sort of goddess of the hunt. He wouldn’t regret it, fascinating as you were.

No matter how much food for thought you gave him, Daemon had been enjoying the joys of marriage. Perhaps, a little too much. Seeing you with the baby dragon had awoken some unexpected feelings. Targaryens were dragons, after all. When the time came, you would make a good mother. Not only were your instincts well-developed, but you seemed to thrive on having something to nurture.

Ah, the joys of domesticity. Daemon loves that you trust him enough now to allow him to witness you at your most fragile. Asleep and wearing a soft white night shift, you are deliciously innocent. Giving, too. You do not complain when his hands find your hips or when he pulls you flush against him. Nor do you move away when his face hides in your lovely locks, mussed with sleep.

Your expression is open and vulnerable in ways you are never when truly awake. Your eyes open just the tiniest sliver, before you hide your face on your pillow, rubbing against it like the sweetest kitten.

He adores you like this. Worships you, even. Obsessed with the curve of your hip, or the soft flesh above your womb. Daemon can’t help but rub it, hoping to manifest a child into existence without actually fucking you.

If he believed in such a thing, as so many fools in this realm did, Daemon would say this was the Seven Heavens. But he knew the truth. Just like you, who worshiped the Old Gods of Valyria, Daemon did too. How could he not when he had a tiny goddess sharing his bed?

Your nose scrunches up. You twitch. Worshiping a little nymph, now that was hard work. Especially when the nymph in question does her best to escape his personal worshiping time.

If Daemon could spend all day in bed, just like this, he would. He would trace your features with his mouth, peppering your face with soft kisses. He would feast on the soft curve of your neck, drink up all your sweet little noises. Trace a path down your soft limbs, draw nonsensical patterns on your stomach. But you are an energetic little thing, always jumping out of bed, no matter the pleasure he tempts you with.

Convincing you to stay is hard, but Daemon likes to think it’s an art he has perfected. It’s not a ritual, by any means. Each morning goes differently. Sometimes, you need to be kissed silly. Sometimes, you need to be gently worshiped and coaxed back to sleep. But his favorite mornings are the ones that go like this.

“I have to go check on the tenants, down by the shore. The rain season just started.” You complain, as he noses along your hairline. Suddenly, Daemon’s arms are empty. He opens his eyes to find you sitting up and pulling your robe over your night shift.

You look delectable in red. He should buy you more robes like that one. Especially because he is about to ruin it.

“Did you say at what hour you are going?” Daemon sits up as well, toying with the edge of your robe. You bat his hands away, playfully.

“No.” You are hurriedly standing up, perhaps knowing what comes next. Daemon grabs your robe, and pulls you back in, using all his strength.

No matter how much you try to keep your feet planted on the floor, you end up tumbling back into bed. You give a girlish shriek, a smile already forming on your face. You struggle, kicking the blankets off the bed.

“Come back here, you little minx.” He tugs you by the ankle, making you laugh. Your hair is sticking up in all directions and your chest heaves up and down with the exertion of putting up a fight.

Daemon secretly loves it. He would never tell you because you would be outraged, but he enjoys the idea of overpowering you. Perhaps, once you fully trust him, he could ask you to play like that. But for now, he takes what he can get.

“Or else what Lord husband?” You tease, still trying to escape him. More blankets and furs are sent flying off the bed. You give a mean little tug to his hair.

“That was it!” Daemon complains, and starts tickling you. The night shift rides tantalizingly up your hips, giving him an unintentional show. He feels his blood warming, arousal turning into a dull throb in his loins. Your legs kick wildly, you squirm on the bed, and your eyes fill with tears from laughing so much.

It’s only when your poor body can’t take it anymore, and you are crying from laughter that he stops. He thinks of how it would feel, to overwhelm you in a different context, make your body take and take until tears ran freely down your temples. A different sort of crown for his forest nymph, one made from her own silver tears. The visual is too much for him to take without giving himself away.

Daemon lies on top of you, smothering you with his weight. He licks a few stray drops of sweat from your neck, making you flay once again. There will be a day when play wrestling will turn into something much less sweet. That day, though, it’s not today.

“Get off!” You complain. “That’s disgusting.”

“I could eat you up.” He teases, nuzzling into your neck. It's the truth. Daemon loves the taste of your skin and your smell. If he thought he could get away with it, he would crawl between your thighs and feast on you. “You are delicious, wife.”

“Daemon.” You push lightly at him, trying to get up. Again. But your words lack their previous conviction. Daemon can tell he is getting to you. “It’s getting late.”

“The tenants can wait. Let us hide from the world a little longer.” He pleads, clinging to you. Under him, exhausted after the play wrestling, you go limp. He knows he has won then.

You spend the whole day in bed. The tenants end up being visited closer to sundown. Daemon does not regret it one bit.

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heliads · 1 year

Note

whilst requests are open I have an idea to put forth after years of us discussing this man. Harry Hook x reader based on 'the way I loved you' by taylor swift. Childhood friends to lovers, to strangers to lovers again mayhaps? idk babes. Love you though, I hope your requests don't get out of hand again so you can stay stress-free!

eva i love you for sending this in, please let me talk about harry hook. he's insane and i cannot get enough of him

masterlist

You are lying on your bed in a dorm room in Auradon Prep, and if you close your eyes, you can almost convince yourself that you’re somewhere else entirely. Your roommate hung a lantern in the window, and with the glass pane cracked halfway, the light sways back and forth on the ceiling, painting shifting golden silhouettes on the perfectly painted ceiling. If you let the present world fade into the corners of your consciousness, you can pretend there are flaws in the endless pristine magnificence. You could even pretend that you aren’t on the continent at all.

No daughter of a princess should ever be anywhere but in Auradon. That’s the way it should have been, but you ran the second you got the chance and ended up amongst criminals and sons of thieves instead of with other prettily polished girls. Is it a terrible thing to admit that you miss it more than anything?

You shouldn’t, that’s the worst part. You left them willingly. As time passes, though, you’re starting to think that what you thought was one great fight with the so-called lowlifes of this world might have been the greatest time of your life. It’s like fording a raging river; while you’re in the thick of the waves, you think you might drown, but when you’re safe on the dry shore again, all you can think of is the coolness of the water, how the flood had sparkled like a thousand sapphires.

You shut your eyes and then you’re back again, just a kid, happier than you’ve ever been and twice as free. It had been easy to leave, actually, easier than it should have been. In your family, there were enough siblings and cousins and relatives that just one girl could go unnoticed. It’s not that Ariel intentionally tried to blur all of her daughters together in her memory, but it couldn’t be helped. She was one of seven daughters, and you were one of many as well. It wasn’t her fault, no, but it was your excuse anyway.

It turns out that nobody bats their eyes at a mermaid’s daughter when she’s running headlong towards the surf. You dove into the waves and came up to shore miles away. Your mother was terrified of losing any one of her children to the endless sea just as her father lost her to land, so none of you were allowed to stray that close to the beach. Of course you would see how far you could go the second you were unsupervised. Of course you would push the limits just to learn where you would break.

You ended up scaring the daylights out of a boy in a small sailing craft not far from the limits of the Isle of the Lost. You hadn’t meant to go that far, but you were giddy with the feeling of doing something wrong and he was trying to escape as well. He’d offered for you to hitch a ride with him so long as the wind was good. You thought that suited you well enough, so you took the hand he gave you and listened when he introduced himself as Harry Hook.

He said his name the same way you did, emphasis on the first name and not the last. It’s the exact opposite way any child of a prince or princess does, and you think that might have been why you liked him from the start. The sun shone overhead, and you talked to him about running away and taking to the sea and all the things you wanted to do if you just had time.

Neither of you wanted to leave, not really, but of course all good things have to come to an end at some point. You watched the sun sink lower and lower in the sky with all the dread of a doomed man going to the gallows. You must have looked seriously unhappy, because you remember Harry laughing and saying that you could meet him tomorrow, if you wanted. You wanted that more than anything, as it turned out, so you eagerly agreed.

Harry took you as far as he could towards Auradon again, and watched as you dove into the water. You can still remember how he’d watched you go, the way his eyes had tracked the water as if he could look at you forever, even after you disappeared from view. He stayed there for a long time before finally forcing his ship to turn around again. You’d know; you stayed there on the ocean floor watching him back until he was gone.

The next day, you slipped away to meet him again, and the next day, and the next. When you were caught trying to go out to the sea sometime in the second month, you fought until you could find a suitable excuse. Your mother was perfectly fine to let you go to some private school by the coast, it would mean one less child to keep track of. The papers were signed and agreements made before you could so much as blink.

You, of course, never went to that school. Instead, you showed up on Harry’s ship just like usual and told him that you wouldn’t be going back. Harry had been talking about a friend of his, Uma, and how she was forming a crew of her own larger pirate ship. You wanted in, and he couldn’t be more delighted to take you home.

You think you replayed the memory of him introducing you to Uma about a thousand times over in your head, and you’ll do it again tonight. The slats of the dock had been slippery under your feet, but you knew that so long as he was by your side, you would never once fall. Uma had looked at you questioningly, blue-green hair cascading down her shoulders, but Harry had hardly been able to tear his eyes away from you.

“This is Y/N,” he’d said, “she’s my friend.” He’d imbued the word with all the hope and grief and joy you could ever possibly attach to such an idea. Harry smiled as he said it, took your hand, let his eyes open comically wide so you’d know he was just joking when he mentioned that he’d jump overboard if Uma didn’t take you on.

Luckily for him, Uma had no problems with you. She saw something in you, the same sort of restless troublemaking spirit the rest of them had in spades. Before you knew it, you were quite literally learning the ropes of how to help out on Uma’s ship.

From there on out, everything was perfect. You watched the sun rise and set from the deck of a ship you could call home. When the weather was good, you spent all night and day out in the grasp of the world, and when the storms raged on, you hid belowdecks with the best friends you’d ever had. They wanted you, not your mother in a younger form, but you. Just you. It was wonderful.

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that you would end up falling in love with Harry. You were hurtling towards that fate as fast as you could, running and sprinting towards the inevitability of it all. No one compared. No one had half as much influence over you as him. And, when he finally managed to tell you how he felt, you thought you might be able to take over the entire world with the sheer force thrumming through your veins.

Perhaps you should have taken that as a warning. The universe doesn’t care much for happy endings, you’ve learned, even for its fairytale heroes. Princesses grow old and fade into obscurity. Princes forget how to save the day. Villains live out their days with fantastic dreams that will never be achieved. You learn how to deal with adequacy, and pretend that it is enough for you.

You loved Harry because he was wild, your untamed, brilliant boy, but then you hated him for it, too. Just once, you wanted to walk into a room and know what he was going to say before he said it. Every word from his mouth was a dagger in your chest. Some days, he was a hopeless romantic, others, he was mad and uncontrollable. He never hurt you, but at least the pain of a blow would be something you could depend on and understand.

Your mother tried to find you about a year or two after you took to the sea, and you used that as your excuse to break up with him. Harry found out you would be returning to Auradon at the exact same time as the rest of the crew. You think he might hate you for it still. You think he would have reason to hate you for a lot, actually, most importantly that you were never quite enough to match him.

So you slipped away from the ship with the worst kind of goodbye, one that you did not mean, and you never looked back. You greeted your mother and agreed when she said that it was time you took up your studies at Auradon Prep. You joined the endless number of would-be princesses and princes and pretended that it was all you had ever needed in life. If you woke up sometimes with the sound of waves crashing in your ears, or felt the steady rock of a ship beneath your feet as you dreamt, you ignored it. Such illusions only belong to the past, and they will never be yours again.

You still have a jacket of his in the corner of your room; you brought it all the way over here, anywhere you go. You never had the heart to give it back. You don’t know that you could if you tried. It still smells like saltwater and laughter and sun-bleached him, and you have absolutely no idea what you will do when that familiar scent fades.

Still, you weren’t able to completely erase his influence on you. Children of villains arrived at Auradon Prep, and instead of running away from them, you befriended them as quickly as you could. Mal thinks like you do, her and the rest. You laugh like them– not quite as polite as you should be, but loud and beautiful and real. You hang out with them all the time and, when they talk about how much they wish they were back on the Isle of the Lost, you lie to yourself that you do not agree.

You never told them the full scope of your exploits, but they know part of it, enough that one day Mal knocks at your door and tells you that she needs your help on a pirate ship. She needs to get something from the Isle of the Lost, a mysterious ingredient for a spell, but they have to keep it a secret so they can’t use the bridge. The next best option, then, is to sail. It’s not a far destination, so it would work.

A thousand memories of sun and surf flash through your head, and you find yourself agreeing before Mal can so much as finish trying to convince you to go along with her plan.

Mal blinks in surprise. “Really? You’re sure? I thought you would have mixed feelings about that time in your life.”

You breathe out slowly, trying to calm yourself. “Certain things scare me more than others.” Certain people, that is.

Mal winces as she leads you out of your dorm and back into the hallway. “Actually, we might have a problem with that.”

You frown. “What do you mean?”

Mal casts you a nervous glance. “Before I continue, remember that you already agreed. I’m not letting you leave now.”

You laugh. “I’m starting to get worried. No, Mal, I’m not backing out. Just tell me already.”

Mal holds up her hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. Never doubted you for a second. It’s just, well, we don’t have a ship at our disposal, obviously, so we’re borrowing one from Uma.”

You shrug. “I have no problem with that. Uma’s great.”

“Yeah,” Mal says, drawing out her syllables in an attempt to buy herself time, “but she insisted on having a skeleton crew present. You know, to make sure we wouldn’t run aground or something like that. That includes her first mate.”

Your head snaps up. “Harry’s going to be there?”

You can feel Mal’s gaze on you, but you refuse to look at her. Instead, you’re scanning the hallway, every door you pass, sure that he’s going to be waiting for you, leaning casually against a wall or peering out of a window or somewhere you could find if you just looked hard enough.

“He is,” Mal confirms, “is that going to be an issue?”

Yes. “No, I’ll be fine.”

You can’t really tell if Mal believes you or not, but then you’re rounding the corner and the rest of the VKs are in front of you, and the conversation must be dropped as Mal explains her plan. You’re going to join the four of them and Uma’s guys in piloting the ship over to the Isle of the Lost, where you’ll search for a talisman hidden somewhere on the island. Once the talisman is secured, you’ll head back. Easy as that.

Mal leads your group to a boathouse on the southern part of the shore. You take up a position in a corner of the room, hidden by the shadows. You suppose that’s why the pirates don’t see you immediately when they come in a matter of minutes later. You suppose you chose that place on purpose so you could get a good look at Harry without him seeing you.

He looks just the same. You don’t know why you thought he would change, that he would have to look different to explain how different you feel, but he’s the same. It makes a soft smile rise to your lips at the same time as the weight of all your memories pierces you through the heart.

Uma’s talking to Mal, doubt lacing her every word. “I hope you have a good idea of how to run a ship, because I don’t think any of your friends have the slightest clue what to do on the sea. That’s my territory, in case you forgot.”

“I know,” Mal says, temper just as strong as always, “that’s why I brought a friend.”

Harry arches a brow. “What friend?”

“That would be me,” you say, and step out of the shadows to face him.

For a moment, you swear that time stands still. Harry’s breath catches in his chest as he looks at you for the first time in months. He has never been one to show off weakness, always laughing off injury or claiming not to feel pain, but in this instant, you can see the shock lancing through his eyes, wracking his frame until he has no choice but to stand there and stare.

Uma breaks the silence, wrapping an arm around your shoulders with a grin. “Y/N, good to see you! I take it back, Mal. Y/N could captain a fleet of ships with her eyes closed.”

It’s easy, after that, to pull yourself together. Uma’s friendship is something familiar, a rock you can stand on. “I appreciate your confidence,” you reply, “good to see you too, by the way.”

“Of course,” Uma says dismissively, then adds somewhat unnecessarily, “Hey, Harry, look who it is!”

Harry swallows hard when Uma addresses him, tries to pretend he’s just like normal. “Yeah, I saw. Hey, Y/N.”

“Hey yourself,” you say quietly.

Evie looks at you nervously, then quickly speaks up. “So, should we get to the ship? We only have so much time before people start looking for us.”

Uma rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, you guys are too popular, I get it. Ship’s docked outside.”

Harry takes this as his excuse to bolt out, and you watch him go with wide eyes. Evie heads over to you as soon as everyone’s attention is off you again. “Hey, is everything alright?”

“Perfectly fine,” you whisper back through gritted teeth. Of course it is a lie. You couldn’t be more affected by this.

You avoid Harry the entire duration of the trip over to the Isle of the Lost. It’s difficult, especially when you push off from the shore and the wind is on your face again and everything is just like you remember. You tug a few lines into place, tie them down with the knots he taught you, and race to the bow as soon as you’re free.

You forgot just how wonderful it is to sail. You laugh delightedly as the ship picks up speed, skipping over the waves as the wind snaps the sails almost to bursting. This close to the surface of the water, you can’t hear anything, but you sense something anyway, and that’s how you know to lean back up and look to your side to see Harry standing there, smiling as he takes in the sight of you.

Your laugh dries up in a moment and you feel frozen there, trapped in this moment with him. Someone calls your name a second later and you’re able to spirit away to safety, but you can still feel his gaze burning like a brand into your back every moment until the ship docks at the Isle.

Mal announces that you’ll be splitting up in pairs so you can properly canvas the island for the talisman. Before you can look at her or Evie, Uma suggests that you and Harry work together, and the rest are already partitioned into pairs before you can fight it.

Fine, then. You’re certain he’s put her up to this, but you won’t give him a scene if he wants it. Instead, you march resolutely towards your assigned location, and pretend that you’re just really invested in finding the talisman so you can’t hear him when he tries to talk to you.

Eventually, Harry has enough and puts his hand on your arm, trying to get your attention. You spin back around by reflex, dagger in hand and held to his throat before Harry can get so much of a word out. The Isle has always brought out a different part of you, more of a villain than any princess’ daughter.

Instead of looking afraid, Harry just laughs. Usually, this is the time at which you’d join in, but you narrow your eyes and hold strong.

“Easy, sweetheart,” he says when he’s finally able to get his laughter under control, “I don’t think your friends would like it very much if you killed someone on your little vacation to the island.”

You glare at him. “We’re not friends anymore, sweetheart, or have you forgotten that already?”

“When your knife is to my throat? Couldn’t forget that if I tried. Out of curiosity, why are we enemies again? I seem to remember you liking me very well just a couple of months ago.” Harry says, reaching up to tap your forearm where you still hold your blade.

You pull your dagger away but stand there still, thrumming with the urge to run. “We’re too different. You’re a villain, and I’m a perfect angel, obviously.”

Harry grins. “What, just because you’re the daughter of a princess? You’ve never let that come in between us before. You’re not Ariel, you’re Y/N, and I have always loved that about you.” Something like doubt flickers across his face. “Is that why you left? You thought you had to become more like her?”

You glance away from him, suddenly unable to look him in the eyes. “I left because I had to. We weren’t working out.”

“Why not?” Harry asks, and suddenly he’s the one in control now, he’s the one stepping forward until your back hits the wall and you have nowhere to run, “What was so wrong with us, Y/N?”

Your hands are shaking. Harry takes the knife from you, carefully sliding it back in the holster on your side. His hands linger there a second longer, and when he finally takes them away, you can’t tell if you’re glad of it or deeply unhappy that you can no longer feel him.

“We could never work,” you insist.

“Why not?” He replies, “Show me we could never work. Prove me wrong.”

Harry Hook has always been somewhat of an enigma to you, just as unpredictable as the sea that both of you love, but somehow you know it’s coming when Harry leans forward and kisses you. For a moment, you consider pushing him away, and then you realize that you do not hate this, not him, not in the slightest, not at all.

Surrender is not the worst thing in the world. Sometimes it’s like the release of a sail to the wind, the acceptance that even though you let a person go, they will always come back to you. You surrender the last of your inhibitions and you kiss him back. It is everything you missed, the fighting and the laughing, the good times and the bad all in one. It is all that you love about him and more, what you didn’t realize you held most dear until you were gone.

Harry breathes quietly against your lips and you breathe back, one small circle of in and out and together. He grins, says, was that really so bad? And you laugh and tell him to shut up, so he does, but only by kissing you again. The island can wait, the talisman and the life waiting back for you at school. You have your boy back, and you could not care about anything else.

requested by @thatfangirl42, i hope you enjoy!

disney tag list: @rogueanschel, @lovesanimals0000, @/thatfangirl42, @amortensie

#harry hook #harry hook imagines #harry hook x reader #harry hook oneshot #descendants #descendants imagines #descendants x reader #descendants oneshot #disney #disney imagines #disney x reader #disney oneshot #descendants harry #descendants harry imagines #descendants harry x reader #descendants harry oneshot

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flowerandblood · 6 months

Text

The Cry of the Sea

Halloween Request Oneshots Series

[ pirate! • Aemond x mermaid! • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, virginity loss, fingering, smut, angst, abduction, violence, threats, obsession ]

[ description: A mermaid who rarely surfaces of the water decides to save a drowning boy. While she tries to keep him safe, she is kidnapped by strange, terrifying people, taken away from her mother and her home. On her way, she meets a captain with one eye who will decide her future fate. Obsessive, possessive, dark!Aemond.]

*Warning! Note from the author: The heroine has a name because of the plot, but apart from that there are no detailed descriptions of her appearance. Oneshot is written from a third-person perspective.

*English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy!*

My others works: Masterlist

____

She had only heard about who people were from stories and what she learned made her rarely floated to the surface of the water. Her mother said they were cruel, that they killed through need, waged wars and destroyed each other, cold and ruthless.

She also said that in order to walk on the ground they needed two limbs, as they had two arms, so in place of their fins were to be so-called legs.

She never dared to ask her mother how she knew such things. She spoke of something like a sound, like music, that it reverberated through the air and was pleasant to the ears, that it had a rhythm, that people danced and jumped to it. She couldn't imagine it; she, her mother and the other inhabitants of the underwater city communicated with finger gestures.

One day she was awakened by a muffled bang, something she had never heard before, and she swam out into the night depths, seeing little. She widened her eyes in surprise to see not the night sky but an orange glow above the surface of the water. She looked back, thinking in horror that she should return to her shelter, but decided that she would just look out to see what was happening, to see if they were in danger.

So she surfaced, feeling the air in her nostrils which caused her pain, she used them so rarely that her lungs were not properly developed, she felt like she was suffocating.

She plugged her ears, terrified, hearing loud shot after shot, the great mountain with sails that her mother called a ship was hitting another masthead with fire, and she was between them, not understanding what was happening, panicking, hiding under the water again.

The sound was instantly muffled as she plunged into the depths, but she suddenly heard a loud splash beside her and saw the body of a white-haired boy struggling to lift himself up, unsuccessfully. She could see his hind limbs, his legs unable to lift him higher like her fin, merely waving fruitlessly in the watery depths, his body sinking lower and lower to the bottom.

She remembered her mother's words about how people couldn't breathe underwater and once they fell into it, they died.

So she swam after him, terrified, grasping him in her hands; he was struggling, terrified, but she managed to hold him and they emerged from the water together, panting loudly and coughing.

"Daeron!" She heard a loud, low, desperate cry, which frightened her, for the first time hearing the words, human speech, sounded strange, not like the noise of the water.

"Here!" She heard the childish, squeaky cry of the boy she was holding and plugged her ear with one hand, feeling a terrible pain. She heard the splash of water beside them and saw that a much smaller boat had fallen into the water.

There were people in it, big, pale, dirty, frightening.

She wanted to run away, but she was afraid that if she let go the boy would start sinking again, so she held him until they came closer and she helped him into the boat, panting hard, shivering all over. The men who sat inside looked at her in disbelief.

"Holy Seven. I think it's a mermaid!"

"Kill her, she can deceive with her singing!"

"Are you mad?! We'll get a fortune for her! We take her, let the captain decide."

She heard loud sounds spoken quickly, she felt like her head was going to explode, she wanted to turn around and submerge herself back, but she felt a large hand grab her by her hair.

Something strange came out of her throat, a sort of high pitched squealing sound that frightened her alone, and then she felt wetness in her eyes, even though she was fighting her way out she didn't make it, another man grabbed her by her shoulders and forcibly threw her into the lifeboat.

She was feeling that she was cold and wrapped her arms around herself, shivering all over, her half-naked body now surrounded by the cool night wind, one of the men shouted that they were swimming away and back up.

"Drop the net!"

"Don't hurt her! She saved me!" Squealed the boy she had rescued from death, pushing away the men who wanted to touch her, laughing loudly, amused, looking at her body. She was terrified and trembling all over, a white-haired child came up to her and embraced her, shivering along with her.

"It's going to be okay. I won't let you get hurt." He whispered softly, something in the sound he made of himself reassuring her.

She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the moisture running down her cheeks, thinking only of the fact that she should have listened to her mother, and now she had to pay for her curiosity.

They threw her into a net like an animal, then lifted her up with a hand crane and her body suddenly fell to the wooden floor, lots of legs around her, lots of men talking loudly to each other. She covered her ears and cried, feeling only pain, terrified and frozen, and suddenly she felt that something was wrong.

The voices around her fell silent as she lifted her gaze and glanced over her shoulder.

In place of her shiny fin, covered in beautiful scales, were two long limbs, the same as theirs.

Legs.

She covered her mouth with her hand and turned away, another terrifying high-pitched sound came from her throat that felt like it tore her skin and she cried out loudly, terrified.

What had happened?

Where was her tail?

Her mother never spoke of her father.

She said he was not worth mentioning.

"He chose the sea, but not me." She had told her once, but it was only now that it was beginning to occur to her what she might have meant.

"What is the meaning of this?" She heard a low, cold voice and saw above her a man with a large scar on his left cheek and a black eye patch, he had the same white hair as the child she had saved, except that his was longer, tied with a black ribbon. He looked at her in disbelief, as if she were some strange, frightening creature.

"It's a mermaid, Captain! I saw for myself, as long as she was in the water she had a long tail!"

"That's right, sir, if we sell her we'll get crores!"

"Don't sell her, brother! She saved me!" She heard the voice of the same little boy holding him by the sleeve of his black leather jacket, his gaze directed at her again, this time focused and excited.

"We're turning back to the harbour. Find her some clothes, nobody can touch her." He said, and after a moment the men lifted her up, although she tried to pull away, it was to no avail.

They forced her to put on a long, smelly cloth and gave her some scratchy material, although when she covered herself with it made her feel warmer.

They locked her in a room from which she could only see the sea through a small hole and she watched in despair as she moved away from her home, from her mother. She pressed her forehead against the wooden wall and cried quietly.

She heard footsteps, quiet at first, then louder and louder, the door to her cabin opened and there the same terrifying man with a black eye patch stood over her, closing the door behind him.

"Who are you?" He asked, and she looked at him with big eyes, not understanding what she was supposed to do, what they wanted from her. She only swallowed loudly, not taking her eyes off him.

He came closer to her, and she stepped back quickly, pressing her back against the wall, breathing loudly, terrified.

"Don't be afraid." He said a little more calmly, kneeling in front of her, something unsettling in his eye, some kind of unhealthy fascination. She saw the gesture of his tongue running swiftly over his lower lip, as if he was just preparing to eat something tasty.

"Who. Are. You." He repeated word after word and tapped his finger against her chest hidden under her blanket, she flinched at the gesture, curling into herself, moving as far away from him as possible.

He lifted his hand and pressed it to his chest, wearing only a white chemise tucked into black leather trousers.

"Aemond." He said calmly. After a moment, he placed his hand on her chest, looking at her expectantly.

"You?"

She wondered if he wanted to know who she was, if he had just confessed his name to her.

She saw his eye widen as she lifted her hand, touched her thumb with her pointing finger, signifying the syllable 'Le', and then lifted her pointing finger up, signifying the lone vowel 'a'.

Lea.

He looked at her, shaking his head, sitting down in front of her.

"What does that mean?" She heard him say the words quickly, but completely misunderstood what it was supposed to mean, so she showed him the same gesture signifying her name once more.

He ran his thumb over his lip, looking at her intensely, tapping his fingers on his knee, then rose suddenly, startling her with it, opening some cupboard with a loud clatter, taking out some large object.

She saw that what he was holding in his hands had cards and patterns, he turned it towards her, moving closer to her and it was only then that she noticed it was letters.

Her mother had told her about them and had even drawn them for her explaining that people used them to write down words and their sounds.

She had written what her name and a few other sentences would sound like in their language, wanting to give her a comparison of how their gestures translated into their syllables.

She touched her finger quickly to a letter she recognised as 'L'. He looked at it curiously and read it out loud.

"L" He said and she nodded, pointing then to the "E" and "A".

He looked at her in disbelief, the corner of his mouth twitching in what she might have called a smile if not for the glint in his eye.

"Lea." He whispered, and she blinked, understanding that he had said her name as a whole, that that was what it sounded like. She nodded and he licked his lips excitedly, moving far too close to her, placing the book in her lap.

He began to point his fingers at more letters, and she followed the movement of his hand, trying to decipher what he was trying to convey to her.

Y O U S A V E D M Y B R O T H E R

You

ved

bro

ther

You saved my brother.

The fair-haired boy.

She looked at him puzzled, swallowing loudly and nodded. She heard him sigh with some kind of relief and joy, happy to be able to communicate with her, pressing his lips together, leaning over the book again.

DAERON

"Daeron." She choked out the word she had heard when she had held his brother in her arms, which apparently was what he had shouted then, terrified.

She heard their captain snort a laugh under his breath, running a hand over his face, looking at her in disbelief.

"Yes." He hummed softly, his voice seeming calmer and gentler to her. She leaned over the book, this time she wanted to tell him something, and he immediately squatted down, looking at the letters she was pointing at.

WHY

She glanced at him with her lips tightened and he looked at her, swallowing loudly, his gaze cooled. He stood up abruptly and she was unable to make a sound, not knowing how to stop him, he walked out and left her alone, locking the door.

She tried to lift herself up on those two strange limbs, but she was falling, they seemed limp and weak to her.

She preferred to crawl, wrapped herself in her blanket and fell asleep lying against the wall, crying silently, praying to the Drowned God to take her back to the sea.

The next day, the little boy she had saved brought her food and placed it in front of her, stroking her head, saying something quietly. He then ran away as if he should not come to her and closed the door behind him.

She spotted the fish and bread on her plate and began to eat quickly, hungry and thirsty, she was given some disgusting liquid in a metal jug, but she drank it, not having much choice.

She spent the whole day lying in one place and it was only at night that she heard the sound of the lock being opened, the same man standing over her again.

He approached her slowly, crouching on the floor in front of her, massaging his chin. She held his book pressed against her chest, tried to look through it earlier, but understood nothing of it.

He gently took it from her hand.

She shuddered as he laid down on the floor just behind her, resting his cheek against her shoulder, placing the open book in front of them, pointing one by one with his finger at the letters and syllables he had spoken so that she could see them, illuminated by the moonlight.

"We - are - sai - ling - to - King's - Lan - ding." He whispered softly, and she blinked, her lips tightening, understanding enough that they were sailing somewhere far away, that she would never see home again.

She closed her eyes and wept quietly, feeling her body begin to tremble, a shudder went through her as she felt his lips on her neck.

"Don't cry." He whispered in her ear softly, warmly, tenderly, and though she didn't know what it meant, she thought he sympathised with her.

"I have no choice. If I let you go now, my grandfather would kill me. You are a chance for us." He hummed the words into her ear, his wet, warm lips trailing higher and higher, she wondered what he was actually doing, why she was getting hot from this kind of touch, why she felt a pleasant pulsing and tension between her limbs.

They both started panting as his hand slipped between her legs and began to touch her, she felt that this was a very private and intimate place, her thighs clenched involuntarily but his fingers slipped inside anyway.

She heard his every move accompanied by a loud click of her juices, with every stroke he made a pleasant warmth and tickle went through her, she felt something hard on her buttocks and moaned softly.

"− fuck −" She heard him mutter behind her, from which a shudder went through her. She sobbed in surprise when she felt his finger suddenly inside her, clasping her hand on his wrist, terrified.

He only shushed her while moving him deep inside her, rubbing him against the place from which waves of pleasure passed through her, from which she lost the remnants of her strong will.

She didn't put herself against him when she felt him lift her thigh, as something hot, big and hard pushed against her entrance from below and began to slide into her flesh, pushing her core apart with her loud cry.

His free hand held her tightly, she clenched her fingers against his skin, panting along with him as he began to move suddenly, pressing his lips to her neck, to her cheek, whispering and groaning low some words whose meaning she didn't understand, his thrusts pushing her hot, throbbing muscles to the limit.

She had no idea what was actually happening, what they were doing, but it felt good, she felt pleasure, she needed it after so many hours of terror, so she let him do what he wanted, easing down completely, moaning loudly as he turned her onto her stomach and lifted her buttocks, sliding into her with loud, wet slaps, his breathing erratic, loud and aroused, his fingers tightened on her skin.

"− I'm going to keep you for myself − you'll swell from my seed and give me offspring born from the sea − my inheritance − oh, fuck −" He mumbled out, feeling her walls begin to clench against him hungrily, a wave of pleasure shook her entire body, stupefying her and making nothing reach her, she felt something hot spill inside her, and then there were only their loud, accelerated breaths.

"− mine −"

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess

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insidetheravensmind · 7 months

Text

𝐌𝐲 𝐉𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐒𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐥𝐝

18+ | For Mature Audiences Only

Pairing: Siren Hyunjin X AFAB Reader Genre: smut, pirate/siren AU, slight yandere themes !!WARNINGS!! yandere themes, cream pie, making out, doing it from the back, facefucking/intense blowjobs, fingering, cunnilingus, degradation/slight dumbifcation, DOM HYUNJIN, SUB READER, reader gets super fucked out. I think that's all, but I'm bad at warnings. Also, there is slight control over the mind, but everything is consensual! Word Count: 7,222 Requested: Yes! Author's Note: I used several references while writing this including Pirates of the Caribbean, H2O Just Add Water (literally only the moonpool/grotto area, that's what the scene is based on), and the faces I envision the sirens having is basically the vampire faces in "The Vampire Diaries." I also watched One Piece while writing this. Avatar (James Cameron) also inspired the mermaid/siren sex biology. (When they use their hair to touch and that's sex, yeah I did something like that). Reader is a pirate that basically only uses pirate slang around her crew, besides that she talks normal. I figured the pirate slang would get annoying to y'all, so I kept it own. I hope you like it! I'll be transparent, this fic is the only one I've ever questioned and been tempted to re-write a few times. I'd love to write something like this again, but I do need to practice. Synopsis: You're a pirate captain that's looking for sirens and mermaids, but what happens when you attack the enemies, and a beautiful siren takes you away for himself? Check out my Stray Kids Masterlist Support me by buying me a coffee ☕️

EDIT AFTER POSTING: Y'all be making me blush and shit with your feedback. I'm giggling and kicking my feet <3<3<3

For hundreds of years people have roamed the oceans. From sailors on ships to the deadliest pirates of the seven seas, the treacherous waters have taken many lives, not only to the water itself, but the unknown dangers of what lies beneath its surface.

Stories of many kinds have stumbled their way out of survivors and drunken deadbeats. What they saw at sea or what they heard from someone else, anything was plausible in this kind of world. If it came from someone’s mouth, it was bound to be true in one or another. No one can ever be careful enough, so it was better to take everything as truth. Even the most ridiculous sounding claims shouldn’t have been taken lightly.

You were the captain of a large pirate ship named The Corruption. You weren’t the most feared pirate known to man, but you were certainly amongst them. You were the only pirate willing to tread where others never came back from. You had faced the Kraken, not killing it, for your adventure only called to find where it rested to avoid crossing near the area at all costs. You faced several other sea monsters, whether they were larger than three ships or nearly as small as a minnow. In this place, the unknown were considered monsters until proven friendly. You and your crew were one of the reasons the unknown creatures were given names in the first place.

People often wondered about the name of your ship, The Corruption. As far as anyone knew, you weren’t one looking for a good or quick fuck like anyone else when drunk, stressed, or just plain horny. Anyone who would have ever heard your name knew you were one of the bravest captains in the known lands, but they also knew you weren’t one to hurt.

You were known for finding creatures but never hurting them. You never forced your crew to walk the plank or make a sacrifice. You were feared for confidence and bravery, not unjust corruption like other pirates. The name of the ship didn’t make sense. How could you, a captain so understanding, sail a ship with an unfit name? Everyone wondered. But you knew. Only you. Only you had the actual mindset to understand why it would be given such a name, and it was simple: Those who sail on it are corrupted by the wonders, those who sail on it live to tell the tales, and thus are corrupted by the truthfulness filled in the sea. They were not killed, they survived intentionally, as long as the captain had any say in it.

Though there was no reason to fear you, people were still terrified because you were willing to explore what others wouldn’t dare go near. You didn’t take shit from anyone. Your very presence, the kind that was filled with confidence, your willingness to look anyone in the eye, and you could get anyone to tell the truth. You could read a lie from nautical miles away.

This next voyage of yours was not the most dangerous, but somehow it scared the crew and anyone new willing to sign up. You were on the search for something that was only legend. Nothing proven, no one alive to tell the tale, and it was strictly based on sightings, no real interactions. For years there had been narratives of half fish, half humans swimming by ships quickly, like they were doing their best to not be seen. Oftentimes the quick glimpses made were described as beautiful women, long hair flowing down their backs and breasts out with no cover. The Englishmen called them “mermaids.”

You wanted to see them for yourself. It was what you did: searched for the tales, or in this case tails, to prove they were real, and if they’re dangerous and how to avoid them. But you questioned why they were so afraid of beautiful maidens that swam along beside them.

Annoyed by everyone’s lack of commitment, you rounded up your crew and anyone else interested in the voyage.

“What the hell is wrong with this lily-livered crew? You wanna sail, especially on my ship, you’re gonna get the hell on and go. What happened to me swashbucklers?! You have faced the kraken and you’re all scared to go hunt for half fish half humans? Now, all hands hoay!”

Your crew didn’t move, barely budged actually, they just blinked at you. Until one man stepped forward and spoke up.

“Captain, we don’t mean to seem like landlubbers, but rumor has it these mermaids ain’t that friendly. Says they sing with perfect pitch and harmony to lure anyone to their deaths, then snack on them like we’re a hearty meal. We ain’t wanna die to the hands of lust, ya hear?”

In disbelief by such words and rumors you had to understand it was important to be cautious. This wasn’t the type of journey you could just set sail for, it seemed there were more obstacles. You had to come up with more of a plan than a simple aboard ship and sail off.

“If these ‘maids are so dangerous then why is it they swim by our ships without going in for a snack, aye?”

Another mate spoke up to answer your question.

“Captain, it’s been said that they could be related but they ain’t the same creature, savvy? Rumors been calling the ones who sing ‘Sirens’ instead of mermaids. They look the same, but they await on shores singing to lure them whereas mermaids are friendly, helpful fellows.”

“Ya sound like you’re three sheets to the wind. Where’d you hear this scuttlebutt?”

“Came from an old seadog, Captain Rattles, Captain.”

You thought for a moment. Captain Rattles was one hell of a source, to be honest. He sailed the seas for decades, every warning he ever came about ended up to be true. Never once had he lied to crews and captains. He was a pirate to behold, really.

“Fine. I’m gonna have a meeting with Rattles to figure out a plan. Then all of you are boarding my ship, or else you’re gonna find yourselves lovers with the hempen halter. Savvy?”

“Aye aye, Captain!”

And the mates scurried off while you made your way to the old tavern where Rattles always seemed to be. It was time to figure out what you were gonna do with the ole hearties. It was annoying to you though. They were willing to die by a giant octopus and not a pretty girl. Typical pirates looking down on women.

Later that night you found yourself seated next to Rattles with a notebook to take notes on anything he had to say.

“I remember encountering them for the first time. We heard a beloved voice and heard it coming from a distance. We saw a mermaid. She turned on her back and swam while her mouth opened. The song came from her. We were all entranced. We followed through a fog until her song became a screech. Her face contorted, and her teeth became sharp fangs. The fog dissipated. Then there was a colony of them. They looked so peaceful in the water, until they all did the same thing. They began to attack. It didn’t help that the ship was smaller. I barely escaped. Only me and two others got out. Everyone else was ripped apart in front of us or dragged into the water where the carnage was hidden. We aren’t sure if there were survivors. We aren’t sure if sirens and mermaids are different or if one makes the other. There are so many things we don’t know, but no one should trust a half fish, half human. It’s not safe. We need someone to figure it out. We need you to figure it out.”

“I know. I want to. My crew is scared.”

“Come on, Captain. Let’s figure this out.”

“Aye aye, Captain.”

That night over drinks the both of you came up with a plan. You and the crew needed to wear cloth in your ears to prevent the sound of songs from working. You needed to stack on weapons, ready to attack back. You all needed to pretend that the song was working. The plan was to sail east off the island. That’s where they accidentally found the cove they named “Libido’s Lounge.” It was noted that there weren’t just women, there were men as well. Even those who didn’t fancy men still fell under the spell, and vice versa.

A few weeks passed by while you gathered the supplies you all needed for the voyage. It was dangerous, and those who began to board knew that. Even you, the bravest of adventurers, were slightly trembling as you boarded last. You weren’t sure why you were so nervous, but you had a gut feeling this was not going to end well. You wanted to cancel it because you’ve never had a gut feeling like this before, but it was too late. You had to go through with it.

“Anchors aweigh! Better get your sea legs in quick because we’re in for a ride!”

“Aye aye, Captain!”

The escapade took a few weeks. The bad feeling in your stomach grew worse. Some days you could barely walk, the anxiety crumbling you. Your head had shooting pains that grew worse the closer The Corruption got to Libido’s Lounge. The crew noticed, but they refused to say anything. It's never good to doubt the captain, especially when they’re in this position of danger with no one else to lead them out.

Dark grew over the horizon as the sun hid itself. The ship continued to sail onwards until a crew member looked over the deck and saw a beautiful face emerge from the water. She smiled at him, and he smiled at her fondly. The way her face was beautifully carved made him feel butterflies, and it wasn’t just the fact that he’d been living off of rum for a while. A crew member next to him noticed his gaze followed towards the girl. He quickly ran towards you to alert you that you’d reached the cove.

“Alert the crew to get the cloth in their ears, now. Get Barbins over there out of that trance or he’s gonna be feeding the fishes.”

“Aye aye, Captain.”

Without a second to lose he began to round up the crew one by one to let them know the plan needed to go into full effect now. They plugged their ears with cloth.

“Hey, Barbins.” The man whispered.

Irritated, he turned to face him.

“What is it?”

“Cloth, now. Captain said so. Or you’re gonna be dinner for them.”

“Gyah, whatever!”

He stuffed his ears quickly before facing the pretty girl again. She smiled, and he smiled back. You noticed this. She began to swim away, and you quickly alerted the crew to follow her. You grabbed a hold of the wheel and spun it to change direction. Through the mist you blindly followed the girl.

“Oi! Be ready for anything. The second her face turns ugly, start attacking!”

The mist cleared and water grew shallower. There was a clearing filled with the most beautiful faces ever seen. You glared at them as they opened their mouths and began to sing. Through the cloth, all of you could hear the song, but you were hoping it stopped the hypnotic way it enchanted the ears. They all stared at the ship while they harmonized their song. But you couldn’t see any men. Your father had told you there would be men, but there were none here. They were all beautiful girls, you could admit to that. You saw the attraction, and you understood the danger of their beauty.

You looked to see Barbins jumping off the ship. You were stunned. What was he doing?

“Man overboard! Start the attack, now!”

WIth a yell the men began to shoot at the water, and the creatures became angry. Soon they lunged at the ship, managing to grab hold of the crew and dragging them down to the depths. There were way more of them than you had crew, and you knew there’d be more to come.

Honestly, you lost your depth. Your stomach grew more knots as you watched the bloodshed. There was going to be no survivors by the look of it. Your head felt full and heavy. Your vision became blurry. Your legs felt weak. The epitome of this dreadful feeling somehow worsened when you got to the clearing, and it hurts even more now, like the source of it is getting closer.

You began to back away from the wheel when you felt yourself hit the back of someone’s chest. You wanted to turn around, but you couldn’t move. Two arms arose to your ears on both sides of your head and pulled the cloth out of them. Then one arm wrapped around your throat and put you in a chokehold while lips quietly sung in your ear.

“Dead men tell no tales.

Ugly men raid our seas

So we tear their sails

And hear their begging pleas.”

A mate saw you in danger, so he began to run towards you. The figure who grasped you hissed at him while his eyes shriveled, veins protruded, and fangs threatened. The mate didn’t back down, so the stranger put you down and lunged at him. He quickly sank his fangs into his shoulder and tore a bite right through him. The mate cried before he was pushed overboard.

You tried to flee in the distraction, but you weren’t fast enough. Furious at your attempt to escape he continued to sing as he stalked towards you.

“Dead men tell no tales,

But you my sweet

Are beautiful as my scales

You’ll stick around as my treat.”

He grabbed you by your arm and pulled you toward the ship’s main deck. You were confused by the man’s ability to walk if he seemed to be the same creature as the ones in the water. Your head hurt too much to fully wrap the idea in your brain. Another mate tried to go for the enemy, but he was knocked to the ground.

“W-what is g-g-going on?” You tried to speak, but you only stuttered the words.

“My name is Hyunjin, and you attacked my kind. That does not go without punishment.”

He pushed you overboard into the water before diving in right behind you. You swam to the surface as best as you could until you were pulled underwater by Hyunjin. His legs were gone, and they were replaced with an abstract tail. It was a warm brown color with hints of crimson red and golden yellow. Though he was a being that belonged to the sea, his tale resembled fire with its colors and extension fins like that of a betta fish. The colors felt inviting.

He placed a kiss on your lips which then gave you the ability to breathe without worry. You tried to fight against him, but once he began to sing with his beautiful voice you were lost again. You stared blankly at him as he took your hand and swam away with you, leaving the war to finish itself without guidance.

Hyunjin swam towards a vacant grotto where he laid your body on a rocky surface. The grotto was his secret hideaway. The only life around it were the fishes and the plants that danced in the water. Hyunjin kept his tail in the water while he laid his arms on the rock staring at your unconscious body. He couldn’t help himself. There was something about you that captivated his attention. Your breathing was calm, you felt lost. You couldn’t think proper thoughts, and you were lost in a void where there was everything and nothing at the same time.

He wasn’t sure what it was. There was something about the way you lead your ship through the mist, thinking you were being strategic, but he stalked behind the ship the entire time. He grabbed onto the side of the ship, beginning to climb his way onto it and watching the scenes unfold. He noticed you were teetering while you ordered your crew around. He could tell you weren’t entirely there. There was a feeling in his stomach that made him want to help. He felt compelled to aid you. He wasn’t sure if it was your bravery for willingly going where every man fears or if it was because you were the most beautiful face he had ever seen. Even though he was and lived amongst a species that matched the beauty of gods on earth, no one looked as beautiful as you.

He was supposed to be the one who lured people into his trap. That was what being a siren was about. He wouldn’t sing so beautifully if it wasn’t for that. Even before he was trapped in this cursed body, women would swoon over his artwork. Every woman would look at him lustfully, some of them were quite attractive, but no one was ever able to catch his eye. So, why are you, some pirate trying to kill off his kind, making him feel ways he has never felt before? That wasn’t fair. That defeated the point of all of this!

He found himself caressing your head softly, staring at the way the water soaked clothes clung to your body accentuating every nook and cranny of it. His body tingled in ways it hadn’t in awhile. Excitement filled his face while he watched you breathe steadily. There was something about the way you were under his spell, under his control, that turned his brain to goo. His mouth began to water, his face felt hot, and his head started to ache at the uncontrollable feeling of wanting to touch you and make you scream his name, but instead of begging for mercy to live you’re begging to have him touch you more and more. The thought alone made him groan.

You began to wake up from your hypnotic state, stirring slightly, eyes blurry, blinking back to reality only to be met with the high ceilings of a cave and an uncomfortable pain in your back from lying on dirt. Human nature made you want to bolt upright and run, but your pirate nature wanted you to remain calm, find a plan, and escape danger without causing a disaster. You laid there, eyes open, trying to avoid the small sounds of splashing water and the glaring gaze of your captor’s eyes digging into the side of your head attempting to read your thoughts.

“I know you’re awake, Captain.” He taunts you with your title. “For the Captain of a ship, you’re certainly pretty inferior and weak right now.”

You grunt at his comment, starting to haul yourself up to find a way out of this mess. As you stand, you’re immediately stopped when a blissful tone reaches your ears, and once again, you don’t have control over your own body. You can feel it. You can feel yourself wanting to resist but being unable. Hyunjin speaks.

“Ah ah ah, darling. Lay back down. We are not finished here. I told you that you’d be punished.”

His words made chills sprint across your spine. Your cold, goosebumped covered body felt warm from nothing, and you felt yourself melt back to the ground. You turned your head towards his, and he lifted himself out of the water and hovered over you when his tail became two long, clothed legs. He looked at you too, and you daringly stared into his eyes. Within them you saw lust and desire, nothing more and nothing less. Well, there was something more, but you couldn’t decipher it.

Hyunjin bent down and crouched next to you, cupping your cheek and gently caressing his thumb over reddening skin. He stared into your eyes, reading them, finding your scrambled thoughts.

“You need to be good and listen to me. I can’t keep making you listen to me by using my voice, but if you make me, then I will. Am I understood, Captain? Nod your head if you understand, pretty girl.”

You nodded your head. You did understand, but the nodding of your head was not on your own free will. His touch made you burn more. There was something about his over looming presence that made you feel small. One thing you always hated was the belittling you dealt with when it came to being a woman in a pirate’s life. Always trying to act above you when you know damn well it’s for their own ego. However, Hyunjin was alluring to you, equally as much as you were to him. There was something about his confidence and dominance that made you horny instead of angry. Maybe it was because it wasn’t his ego talking, it was just who he was. He knew he was in control here, and that’s why he didn’t feel nervous around you. The other men who made comments towards you always ended up being the weakest. Not Hyunjin though, nothing about him seemed submissive.

The horrible feeling in your stomach never subsided. It grew even more in the position you laid in, and you started to wonder if the wetness in your panties is more than the wetted undergarments from being dragged through the sea like a monster’s prey. Maybe the horrible feeling in your stomach was just your gut feeling telling you to get dicked, and there was something about the nearing presence that made the feeling grow.

Sirens, you think to yourself, are lust filled devils that overwhelm one’s desires when they approach them. Their songs do not force falsified love into someone, but overpowers their primal desires more than they can bear, weakening them, and taking them as food. But why do they want to hurt us, and the sighted mermaids want to help us?

Hyunjin sang another tune, but it made the hypnotic effect wear off, almost like an anecdote. You didn’t move, too afraid for your body to not be your own anymore.

“Tell me, Captain, do you want me?” He asked boldly.

You looked him deep in his eyes. You wanted to deny it, you really did, but just as they claimed, he was as beautiful as they came, more than likely the most perfect one, even beating the gods’ beauty. You wanted him in many ways, and he wanted you all the same. Like the bold pirate you were, you spoke up.

“Yes, I do. Do you want me?”

“Yes, surprisingly I do.” He wasn’t lying. You knew it, you could read lies, and even if it was in his powers to be able to lie without getting caught, this seemed too desiring to him. His breathing was barely steady at the start. He was struggling to hold back.

He moved to plant himself between your legs and then moved his hand to your neck and applied pressure to the sides of it carefully, taking away some air, but not a lot. You gasped, trying to take back all the air he cut off but failed.

“It actually pisses me off how much I want you. Do you know what I’m supposed to do with invasive pests like you?” He leans in closer.

“I’m supposed to rip you apart, limb from limb, and drag you down in the deep to eat you…”

He comes closer, grip tightening, his mouth right to yours, hovering above it just barely.

“But something in me, something about you, makes me want to rip you apart for my own sake, and I want to hear you cry my name while I do.”

He releases your neck and puts his lips to yours. As he makes contact, you kiss back. He isn’t sweet with it, you aren’t either. His kiss is rough, teeth hooking onto your bottom lip and tongue prodding its way into your mouth while he uses one hand to hold himself up and the other to roughly massage your breast while he rolls his hips between your legs to give your clit the smallest bit of tension. He rolls over with a rhythm, enough to make you let out small, pleading whimpers. He smiled, hearing you fall apart on nothing when he’s just begun.

He moves, and he begins to peel off the damp clothes from your body. You want to shiver, you want to be cold when your entire naked body is exposed to the elements, but it only burns. You can barely think, and it’s no longer the lack of air’s fault or Hyunjin’s songs. It’s just how horny you are for this angelically handsome devil. He takes off the rags that hide him as well. The sight of his slightly toned chest and thin stomach fills you with more desire than before. Then he removes his pants, and that makes your pussy throb the most.

He leans back down to you, except he faces your core, and leans in for a meal. The spit from his tongue meeting your untouched folds makes you shudder, and you grab his hair and pull him closer on instinct. His tongue licks in and out of your vagina and messily makes his way to your clit where he sucks on it and nips on it slightly. Your sensitivity is so intense that you feel yourself leak a bit more over his face. He continues his assault on your clit while his hand makes his way to tease around your hole before entering one finger, and a few thrusts later adding a second.

“Hyunjin, fuck-” You moan while he continues his actions. He takes his mouth off of your clit for a moment to say, “Good girl.” You gush at the nickname and turn your head to the side to hide from how excitedly the praise made you feel.

The knot in your stomach was ready to be untied. Your quiet whimpers and moans got louder and increased, which signaled him to pick up the pace a little faster.

“Whenever you’re ready. Just sail with the wind, Captain.”

As soon as he said that, you released onto him and rode out your high as he calmed his movements before pulling away. Your eyes felt heavy, your body felt relaxed, but you didn’t want to stop there. Hyunjin didn’t either. You fell limply onto your back when Hyunjin moved himself from you.

“Hey, there, pirate, we aren’t done with this voyage of ours yet.”

Looking down at you, he bent down and picked you up by your hips, moving you to sit in front of a rock on your knees. The rock was at your eye level. Hyunjin sat on top of the rock. He slightly flinched at the coolness of the rock against his ass, but he warmed up to it quickly. He spread his legs, leaving his dick out, and the perfect space for you to crawl in and suck him off. You stared at his long, hard dick while it waited for attention.

“Hey, princess,” Hyunjin snapped his fingers in front of your face. “Get to it.”

You crawled to him on your knees, head bowing down in embarrassment, but Hyunjin grabbed the roots of your head and pulled you close to his dick. “Open.” And you did. You opened your mouth wide and took him in while he kept his hold on your roots for physical control. You bobbed your head up and down, moving your hand up to grab what you couldn’t reach, but Hyunjin stopped you.

“You’re a Captain, aren’t you? Using your mouth to bark orders all day? Not to mention how much you unhinged your jaw to take me. If your pretty mouth can do those things, then you can suck my whole cock without taking a shortcut with your hands.” He pushed your head all the way on his cock, making you gag, but he ignored it. He kept this up, barely letting you breathe. All he did was assault your throat with each thrust making him groan at your warm, wet walls that felt like heaven’s touch. You could feel your throat become sore, but you honestly didn’t want to stop him. There was something about the way he sounded and his control over you that made you want to please him forever.

Not long later, his groaning increased and became louder. He was going to cum soon, and you could tell when he pushed your head into cock faster.

“Fuck!” He moaned when he felt cum spurt from his tip. He calmed his pushing, but he made you keep your mouth around his cock until he was fully finished, then he withdrew himself and forced you to swallow all of it.

Drool was falling down your chin, your jaw and throat hurt, your scalp was slightly burning, but your eyes were glazed over, wanting even more of him. You felt like you were floating, the pain in your body making your pussy wetter. Even though you felt like Hyunjin was controlling your body with the way he used you like a toy, a new melody filled in your ears making the ache in your body reside. Each tune he sang seemed to do a different thing, but each of them were helpful in the situation you found yourself in. This tune didn’t put you in his control, but it rather settled you to be comfortable for what he was going to do next.

Hyunjin stood up and looked down at you while you remained on your knees. He brought his hand underneath your chin and forced you to look into his eyes.

“Tell me your name.” He spoke. His tone was stern. It wasn’t like the way he spoke before, this was a hard command. You weren’t sure why he was so stern about your name and not the intense oral sex you performed on him moments ago.

“It’s Syrena.” You lie.

Hyunjin grips your chin tighter and glares daggers at you.

“You’re lying. Tell me your name.”

“Ariel.”

Hyunjin pushed your head to the side harshly before bending down and grabbing you by the base of your neck and forcing you to look at him again. This time he’s much closer. He’s more intimidating this way, and you feel your stomach jump.

“Lie to me again, and see what happens. Tell me your name or I will leave you here to die.”

“My name is Y/N. Captain Y/N.”

“Now was that so hard, Y/N?” You glared at him, tempted to rip out of his grasp and kill him on the spot, but you didn't. You stayed put because your sinful temptations were getting the best of you.

“Captain, Y/N.” You corrected him. Even though he’s been calling you pet names since you got there, now you were starting to grow tired of his taunting and teasing. You let him have his fun, but now you wanted your respect back. However, you were basically willing to do anything for him to fuck you at this point, but you didn’t want to admit that.

“No, no, no,” He paused, lifting you by your hips again and sitting himself back on the rock. “You are no captain to me.” He sat you slightly on his lap, grabbing his dick and teasing your clit. Your arms were wrapped around his neck to keep you up. The feeling made you whine loudly. He smirked, slowly pushing his head into your soaked cunt until his long length was fully inside you. Your head fell back, and your mouth opened without control as you let out of the loudest moan you could muster. He used his hand to bring you back to face him and look into his piercing gaze again. Your mouth stayed open, moaning with each small thrust he gave as he pushed himself into you, but keeping most of his dick inside you.

“You are just a pathetic, cock-hungry, submissive, girl.” He said between his small thrusts.

“H-h-hyunjin, please.” You plead. He gives an evil smile and lets go of your neck making it fall back again. He stood up, holding onto you, bringing you off of his cock almost entirely before harshly thrusting himself back inside. You couldn’t control your reaction, even if you tried. You screamed in pleasure, the noises echoing off the grotto’s walls. He continued to plow into you, but it was enough to ensure it was pleasurable for the both of you and not just his own selfishness.

“Hyunjin! I can’t- Fuck!” You moaned.

“Yes, you can. Fucking take it.” He growled, fucking into you harder.

“Ah- I can’t, please!” The pleasure was insane, impossible to describe. Then, again, there was another new melody that rang through your brain, and you felt like you were floating. You were able to take whatever he gave you without worry, but the pleasure somehow doubled. Your eyes were oceans with the way the tears spilled from them each moment he didn’t stop. But everything was bliss. Everything was perfect. You felt more relaxed and calm than you ever had before.

Hyunjin switched the positions you were in, lying your stomach against the rock, and your ass in the hair where he entered you from behind and held onto you by your head fucking into you even deeper.

“My little pirate taking the cock of her enemy.” You wanted to correct him, tell him that your intention was to learn about them, not to hurt them, but that thought left your mind as soon as you had it. You couldn’t think. You were almost brain dead, only being able to feel everything he was giving you and more.

“I’m gonna cum soon!” You managed to choke out.

“Fuck, baby, me too.” He groaned back.

“Ah, Hyunjin, please, I can’t hold it.”

“Just a little bit. I’ll tell you when you can cum.” His stern voice was back, there was no choice whether you did or didn’t on your own terms.

He moved out of you for a brief moment and turned you around to face him. Quickly and carefully he picked you up and thrusted his cock into you. You shoved your face into his neck, kissing and sucking and biting him to bare the orgasm building inside you.

“Can I please-”

“Yes.”

As soon as you released, Hyunjin did too, fucking his cum into you while you moaned. He found your lips and kissed you while slowly walking towards the moonpool of water and allowed himself to fall in with you while you kissed him lustfully and passionately, and he did the same.

In the water, you were lost, eyes open, but not having control. Hyunjin’s presence was not absent from you, but you still felt sexual pleasure. You weren’t sure how.

Hyunjin was in front of you, facing you, and smirking. You looked at him, confused as to how you weren’t sinking without him holding you and without swimming. Then you realized you couldn’t feel your legs. You looked down, and your legs were replaced with a shining mermaid’s tale and extensions of a betta fish, just like Hyunjin’s, right in front of you. You noticed one betta fin of yours and his were connected. That was where the pleasure was located.

You wanted to scream and cry. Hyunjin could tell, so he came closer to you. He held your face in his hands again, stroked your cheeks gently, and leaned in to kiss you. You happily kissed back. Within the midst of your kiss, your tails intertwined with the other, and you felt like you were floating again, but this time it wasn’t Hyunjin’s range of melodies, it was a tone that felt like love. You felt whole and safe. You didn’t freak out about the mermaid tale that now lined your body.

Hyunjin moved away from your lips, grabbed your hand, and swam you towards the surface of the water. After breaking the surface, you began to speak, but he stopped you. “Don’t freak out. You will be fine.”

The second his tail was entirely out of the water, he had legs again, and he helped you out of the water where the same thing happened to you. Hyunjin grabbed you again, and held you into his lap bridal style while leaning against a rock. He looked at you, and you looked at him.

“Humans can’t have sex with mermaids or sirens without turning into one of us. It was a curse put on both humans and merfolk such as ourselves years ago when a human and a mermaid fell in love. However, a jealous sea witch grew envious of their relationship, and put a curse on mermaids that they’d become lust filled demons that killed humans that came near, and anytime a human had sex with one, their curse was to become them too.”

You looked at him dumbfounded.

“What the fuck?” is the only thing you can muster.

Hyunjin laughed and explained more in depth.

“I wasn’t always like this. I was a human too. In fact I was a painter whom all the ladies fell in love over. I adored it. I adored their attention. One day, while I painted by the seaside, I heard a beautiful noise come from the water. I discovered a boy peeking out of the water. He extended his arm to me, I gave him my hand, and he pulled me in. Then, things escalated, and now I’m like this.”

“But I still don’t understand the mermaids and sirens thing. And why’d you have to do this to me? What the hell.” You felt a lot of emotions, but you weren’t as mad at being a siren than you thought you’d be. Depending on the conditions, being part fish could help yourself as a pirate captain.

“I barely understand myself, but I’ll try to explain more. It used to only be mermaids. That was it. Mermaids are beautiful creatures that swim in the sea and have beautiful voices that can do all sorts of things like lure people in and make them feel better. However, mermaids were never inherently evil. Their songs were meant to lure people in for good things, like steering life away from dangerous areas. However, the sea witch’s jealousy got the best of her. She wanted to be the one the human fell in love with, but instead it was someone else. Blinded by rage, she cursed any mermaid who dared fall into the lust trap. Oftentimes mermaids are used to resemble purity because of this, and they distract themselves from carelessly falling into anything that can change that. The sirens curse, it wasn’t just motivated sex, it was killing anyone who tried because the lust was so strong. When the mermaid was first turned into this monster, she kissed his neck, but began to rip it apart. The sexual desires began to settle after the fact, like killing someone brought down the hunger. No one has been able to find an alternative. As for me turning you… I couldn’t help myself. Ever since I saw you there was something about you I needed. It ached, in ways I couldn’t explain, and I knew you felt it too.”

You stared blankly at him in disbelief. Then you spoke up.

“We weren’t coming to hurt you. My pirate ship is more of a learning experience. We discover things in the sea and tell others about it. We don’t harm anything, we just teach ourselves. Granted we know how to defend ourselves in an attack, but we came to study the mermaids, and we ended up in a killing trap. Now all of my men are dead.” Your voice turned cold by the end, just remembering the bloodshed of the battle you were ripped from for no reason.

“But you began to attack, don’t deny that.”

“It was self defense. We knew you were going to do something.”

“I don’t doubt that. Even though I haven’t always been a siren, I can’t sit back and watch my newkind get slaughtered. I will defend them, and now you will too. You’ll learn to.”

“Hyunjin, I didn’t want any of this.”

“But you were so beautiful, I had to have you. You’re mine; you belong to me. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be so off balance when I’m around, just like a bit ago when you lost everything the second I was completely near you. I hadn’t even started singing.”

He was right. You knew it too. He was the reason you felt off. He was the reason you were off balance and off guard and off everything. Now he’s the reason you’re part fish.

“You can go back to being a pirate captain, if you so please, but I am so deeply infatuated with you, I couldn’t bear you to go. I don’t ever want you to leave me, Y/N.”

It was the way he stared deeply into your eyes that made you melt. There was no convincing melody of his to convince you to stay, though you must’ve had that too now if you were one of them. But his eyes, his pleading, and the slight fear you had of him kept you put on his lap.

“Come, my treasure, explore the ocean with me.” He said, standing you up, and bringing you to the water, jumping in with you, grabbing your hand, and swimming off.

Your tail made you swim as a pace that was hard to comprehend. You were out of the grotto and near the island you sailed off of in minutes rather than the days of voyage you spent. Hyunjin showed you all about the water, pointing out friends and foe, things to eat, ways to improve your life as a merfolk.

Down in the water, the two of you faced the other where your betta fins touched, bringing you closer into a kiss. The two of you chased each other around, creating tiny waves in the water as you playfully messed around.

Resurfacing from the water and staring at Hyunjin, he sang,

“My heart is pierced by Cupid.

I disdain all glittering gold.

There is nothing can console me,

But my jolly sailor bold.”

You smiled, happy to hear this song that he sang often. He sang it about you.

But little did you know, that song is the only reason you stayed with him.

Hyunjin found you perfect, so beautiful that he couldn’t let you go. He knew you would've left the second you had the chance, but he can’t let someone he’s besotted by go, so he’ll do what he can to keep you around a little longer. I mean, he did tell you that bullshit story about sirens and mermaids. Had he been turned into a siren by a boy with a freckled covered face? Yes. Was that witchy nonsense true? Of course not. But if you believed him, who cared? He turned you into a siren on his own, so he could keep you around forever. He was going to have you no matter what.

You are his treasure, not any of the pirates, his.

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stevesbipanic · 10 months

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If You Would Promise Me Your Heart

For my Eddie, @steveshairychest.

Every nerd in Steve’s life had their mythical creature niche.

Robin loved pixies. Channelling their mischievous energy into her everyday life, bouncing around the store while they were on shift, even joking she’d get a pixie cut one day.

Nancy, though she would deny it to anyone outside their circle, loved fairies. Soft but calculating, intelligent and beautiful, when they had visited the ren faire the year prior her cheeks matched her glittery wings.

Dustin loved hobbits and Steve loved to affectionately call him one even as the boy grew just as tall as him, the excitement that crossed his face when Steve agreed to watch the movies with him made the confusing deep lore worth it.

Lucas loved ents. Steve would often find him in the woods just listening to the trees, he was the only one of them that would still brave the forest at night, the trees would keep him safe.

Max loved harpies. If Steve were to give any proof that these creatures existed, he’d just tell you to look at Max’s face when some boy told her girls can’t skate.

Will loved merfolk. When they visited the beach last summer Steve could see the years of stress melt away from the young boy’s face as he listened to the waves, the water washing away the memories.

El loved elves. She loved the many forms they came in from fantasy to Christmas, that they could be fun or loud or quiet or brave, that they could be whatever they wanted to pointy ears just made them a little special.

Mike loved griffins. He knew that being both just made you stronger, that you can be strong and brave and protect the things you love, that being different doesn’t make you less whole.

Erica loved unicorns. She would hit you if she heard you saying they were anything less than metal.

Which of course leads us to Steve’s favourite nerd, Eddie.

Eddie loved dragons.

The first thing he did once his scars had healed enough was to get a beautiful dragon tattoo across them, the rough skin almost like scales through the dragon’s back.

One of his most prized possessions is a massive red dragon figure for his campaigns.

Steve thinks he’s seen the How to Train Your Dragon movies more than every seven-year-old in the world because it’s the only things that make Eddie feel better when he has nightmares. He has seen them so many times that he can recite his own favourite scene by heart.

They’re in the small clearing in the woods behind their house, it’s spring, the afternoon is warm and the wind is calming. The sun is setting, they are sharing a small picnic, it’s perfect. The sun is bathing them in a golden light, Steve thinks Eddie would be beautiful even if the world was pitch black.

It’s time.

He whistles out the first few notes.

“I’ll swim and sail on savage seas, with ne’er a fear of drowning. And gladly ride the waves of life, if you will marry me.”

Eddie has turned to Steve recognising the song, his eyes are as bright as the love between them.

“No scorching sun, nor freezing cold, will stop me on my journey.”

Eddie’s eyes are shining, he’ll blame them on allergies.

“If you will promise me your heart, and love,” Steve looks expectantly at Eddie.

Eddie face breaks into a smile at Steve’s pause.

“And love me for eternity,” he continues, “My dearest one, my darling dear, your mighty words astound me. But I’ve no need for mighty deeds when I feel your arms around me,” Eddie sings pulling Steve to his feet as he stands.

Steve laughs as he continues, “But I would bring you rings of gold, I’d even sing you poetry!”

“Oh would you?” Eddie giggles.

“And I would keep you from all harm, if you would stay beside me.”

“I have no use for rings of gold, I care not for your poetry; I only want your hand to hold,” Eddie sings lacing their fingers.

“I only want you near me.”

The boys begin to spin and dance to only the tune of their voices.

“To love and kiss, to sweetly hold, for the dancing and the dreaming. Through all life’s sorrows and delights, I’ll keep your laugh inside me.”

Eddie begins to spin from Steve the joy bubbling up inside him, not even noticing Steve’s voice has gotten softer.

“I’ll swim and sail a savage seas, with ne’er a fear of drowning. And gladly ride the waves of life if-” the last words catching in his throat as he looks at Steve, down on one knee.

“If you will marry me.” Steve finishes, a beautiful black ring in the shape of a dragon protecting a ruby in its centre laying in a black box in his hand. “For the dancing and the dreaming, Stevie, yes.”

#modern steddie #steddie #httyd #steve loves his nerds #eddie loves steve and dragons #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things s4 #ficlet #proposal #fluff #i had other writing things to do but whoops

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chaoticace2005 · 2 months

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You guys asked for it…

Why Lilith might have left Lucifer:

1. She lost interest. Simple at that. 10,000 years of the same routine…

2. She found out where Eve was and ran to her long lost love.

3. A deal was made with Alastor and she had to flee for her nefarious plans.

4a. Lucifer was bad in bed.

4b. He wouldn’t let her take off his hat while having sex.

5. Lucifer was good in bed and she was getting addicted, so for her own sake she left.

6. She had to get milk.

7. She took a look at hell after all her years of working, saw how fucked up humans are and said “nah.”

8. Donald Trump became president so she fled the country but forgot to take her family with her.

9. She could no longer deal with Lucifer’s ~autistic swag~

10. She got a coupon for an expense-paid trip to the Bahamas.

11. Lucifer wasn’t doing the DAMN DISHES.

12. Lucifer kept asking her to “quack” in bed.

13. There weren’t any good marriage counselors in hell. So she read drama books to fix her marriage and thought this was the best solution.

14. Lucifer got a sleep apnea machine and she couldn’t handle it anymore.

15. She bonked her head and completely forgot who she was. That’s why she scowls when Lute says “Lilith” at the end- because she has no idea who “Lilith” is.

16. Seven years ago Alastor killed Lilith. To cover his tracks he put on a wig and visibly left the cast as “her.”

17. SOMEBODY wasn’t putting the damn seat down. Do you think they have to deal with this in Heaven?

18. There was a silent uprising and assassination plot. She dealt with it all while Charlie and Lucifer remained oblivious, but is now being hunted.

19. Faked her death. Lucifer is somehow unaware that his wife even “died.”

20. Niffty blackmailed her into leaving.

21. They ran out of blond dye at the Hellmart and she couldn’t handle being the only one in the family without blond hair.

22. She felt the need to leave her family, build a luxurious pirate ship, hire random pirates, and sail the seas until she had a homoerotic relationship with a competing pirate and retired.

23. She too borrowed 50 grand from loan sharks, stole a car, and crashed it into a loan shark’s girlfriend (but that bitch had it coming!)

24. She went down in an airplane.

25. Fried getting suntanned.

26. Fell in a cement mixer full of quicksand.

27. Her feather allergy kept getting worse and she had to leave for her health.

28. Lucifer kept saying he was “magic in bed” and then would do magic tricks despite being a LITERAL ANGEL.

29. Susan.

30. Committed tax fraud and had to flee the country.

31. She was going to get bottom surgery after Lucifer’s top surgery and is still recovering. (Hell doctors SUCK okay??)

32. Lucifer wouldn’t admit that water is wet.

33. Lucifer was putting ketchup on his pancakes.

34. Lucifer wasn’t vibing with her BFF-girlboss-malewife-bestie Alastor. She couldn’t deal with the ~drama~

35. He wouldn’t stop talking about his Fantasy Sports team.

36. Needed to find some artistic inspiration because the whole “I’m in hell” thing is SO overdone.

37. Not a fan of the circus or clowns.

38. Mental health break. She’ll come back when she’s ready. Sometimes it takes a while.

39. She was KIDNAPPED.

40. Lilith is dead. That’s not Lilith. That’s a shadow version of Lilith made by Alastor who works for her killer (Eve?) That’s why she wears sunglasses. So we can’t see her eyes and the empty void behind them.

#catch the dumb references #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel memes #stupid hazbin hotel lists #hazbin hotel crack #lilith hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #lilith morningstar

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lettersfromaphrodite · 11 months

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«it's high tide, baby.»

― pairing : Minho x fem!Reader ― content warnings : fantasy au, pirate au, angst with a happy ending, enemies to friends to lovers, soulmates (I know you saw it coming), isekai, LOTS of pop culture references (two aldo giovanni and giacomo’s references italian readers this is for you), magic au, mention of murder, mention of drowning, unprotected sex (wrap it up y’all), fantasy au ― word count : 24k ― notes : I sure do hope you’ve read Chris’ merman fic because I’m feeding on my own lore // Ananke is meant as the greek goddess of fate // extra kudos to Black Desert for having an amazing map and kudos to me for using the videogame aesthetic because I don’t have enough creativity in me to come up with a fantasy world // I have one (1) fear and that's I'll keep adding more and more everytime I read this story because it's just so dear and precious to me // yes, yes "The Bitter Dahlia" is exactly the one mentioned in «Protect Me, My Aurora.»

― notes : this fic looks familiar?it is! I’m reposting ALL my works on this brand new blog and therefore please, bear with me! as always, askbox is always open and feedbacks are always welcome 💌

― summary :

«I think I’ve never missed Cleo so much.» you quietly sniffled. «Your lover?» Minho questioned immediately. «My cat.» you clarified without hesitation.

“«Everything is over, now.» the Captain spoke in a confident voice, «I won’t let anyone else hurt you.» he added, before capturing his lover’s lip in a gentle kiss.” «Oh, holy fuck,» you blurted out as soon as you read that sentence, closing the book out of instinct, «holy shit, finally!» you added to yourself, almost closing the book out of excitement, completely aware about the fact that you were smiling like an idiot at no one but the now finished book in your lap but well, you couldn’t help yourself.

It was a book you’ve randomly found in the book-store next to your workplace, its cover had nothing special that immediately jumped to the eye: it was relegated in leather, some golden details that recalled the title written in beautiful handwriting. Actually, if you had to be completely honest, the detail that convinced you to buy it was the small golden stone embedded right under the title, instead of the actual plot – plot that in the end you came to adore.

«You are really lucky, this is the only copy that has been sent to us.» had said the old lady working there, making you furtherly curious and giving you another reason to buy it.

It was a love story, but it contained just the right amount of adventure as well. Christopher, a young, handsome and fearless pirate, was not only the Captain of the Golden Fleece – who was capable of intimidating anyone who saw its sails in the distance, but he had become the head of the entire commercial network that passed through all the known seas. Chris had at least 200 fleets under his command, each of them committing various raids in the name of their Captain - or some might say "the King of Pirates", and now was able to sail wherever he wanted without getting his hands dirty as he had done in the past.

During his adventures, he eventually fell in love with a girl – Leana, who was originally engaged with a navy’s soldier; after an awful lot of vicissitudes and obstacles in the path of their happiness, Christopher eventually stole her away – he’s a pirate after all, making her a member of his crew and finally allowing each other to live their so craved love story.

Of course, the Captain would have never made it alone; his seven long time friends had always been more than ready to help him and support him in every case of need.

Among his crew, you definitely had a personal favourite: Lee Minho, a young former bounty hunter enamoured with the feeling of freedom he felt while sailing that definitely made your heart race more than once. Not only he was described as handsome, with black raven hair that would almost always be tied up because he "hated the feeling of having hair in his face while being on deck" - but also not wanting to cut it short, a captivating and hypnotic gaze that let you wonder if you could reach the bottom of the sea if you ever took a dive into them, but he was also straightforward and sarcastic, a reason why Christopher found himself asking for Minho’s advice the most; despite his strong personality, he truly cared for his friends, and he considered them like a family. Chapter by chapter, you found yourself admiring his character so much that you anticipated every one of his appearances, eager to read more about him.

«Oh, Cleo, can you imagine a love like this?» you sighed dreamily, absently running your fingers through your cat’s thick fur, Cleo simply mewled at you, a faint noise that you interpreted as a proper answer, «or a life like this.» you added, your voice suddenly turning a little more hesitant, a little more lonelier. During the last few months, your life had fallen into an incredibly boring and obnoxious loop: go to work, finish your shift with an incredible amount of stress spreading through your body just to stop in order to buy groceries on your way home, see some friends once in a while, take care of your cat and repeat, repeat, repeat.

Of course, you would have felt a lot lonelier if it weren’t for Cleo: you found her sitting in front of your apartment complex on a random day two years ago and since then she started living with you, as if she had been expressively been waiting for you to find her that day.

«You always look angry, don’t you?» you cooed at her, hoisting her into your lap as to cuddle her a little closer. «Just like your mom.» you referred to yourself, shortly drowning your face in her soft fur, loudly smooching her a few times while adding some incomprehensible praises; Cleo mewled, as if she was exasperated at your behaviour and you quietly giggled, your soft laughter shifting into a sigh as your eyes fell on the book once again.

“I was really lucky to get the only copy of this,” you definitely had loved everything about the story, to the point to start fantasizing and wondering what could their next adventure be now that the crew gained a new very special member. Did Chris and Leana got married in an actual chapel or did they ask someone in their crew to randomly marry them just like Elizabeth Swann and Will Turner did? At the same time, what if they ended up recruiting more women? The thought of a stereotypical girls night on a pirate ship made you snort, but at least, Leana wouldn't have felt lonely, since living among men must have been boring at some point.

Engrossed in your thoughts, you didn’t realize that you ended up drifting off on your couch – still uncomfortably wearing your jeans, and therefore, you definitely could not notice about the strange events occurring as soon as sleep overcame your senses.

The book you were holding in your hand seemed to be woken up by a curious kind of magic, as the golden stone began to glow in a faint light; the book opened by itself just as if it possessed personal will, and its pages quickly turned back and forth by themselves, as if it was deciding which page to read first.

The book’s golden glow gradually seemed to shine brighter and brighter, and it eventually woke you up.

«What the-» you mumbled, confused, when you felt as if someone or something was harshly tugging at your soul and all of a sudden, you felt like you couldn’t breathe anymore.

The book had closed once again, politely placing itself on your coffee table; the glowing had completely disappeared, and the golden stone returned to its original plain looking appearance.

However, in what has always been your home, all traces of your presence seemed to have vanished altogether.

Suddenly drowning was definitely not something you expected to happen on a Thursday evening, moreover, how could you be drowning when you’ve been reading on your couch until few seconds ago?

At first you thought of it as an extremely vivid dream, but as soon as you tried to breathe and water started to fill your lungs, you realized that your only priority was to get to the surface as soon as you could; thankfully, you were barely beneath the surface, so you managed to get your head out of the water soon enough, while finally breathing and coughing due to the salt water you had unintentionally swallowed.

«What the fuck?!» you shouted in disbelief, quickly glancing around yourself; first of all, judging by the sun burning up in the sky, it was the middle of the day, and moreover, everywhere you turned, you couldn’t see anything but water, except for an enormous galleon blocking part of your sight.

«Man at sea!» you heard many voices shout from its deck, and soon enough, a rope was thrown in your direction.

“What kind of rescue is this, where is the coast guard?” you thought to yourself as you swam towards the rope which was peacefully floating above the surface, unsure about how you were supposed to climb up there in the first place.

However, the answer to your thoughts came pretty fast, in the form of a boy dressed in typical piratesque clothes, urging you to grab his hand; you quickly pondered your options, and between dying from hypothermia caused by the cold water or probably being abducted and eventually killed by a boy with a strange taste in clothing, you considered the latter to be the safest.

«Everything’s fine now, don’t worry.» the boy reassured you with an unexpected friendly tone, and as soon as you locked eyes with him, your heart seemed to stop; his eyes were a deep shade of blue, while his hair, eyebrows and his eyelashes were as white as fresh snow.

Although you were completely certain that you’ve never met him before, you couldn’t help but wonder why his appearance was extremely familiar to you.

«Are you okay?» «How did you end up so far from land?» «She’s trembling like a leaf, poor soul.» «Let’s just throw her back in.» «Shut up, Minho, go fetch a blanket before she freezes to death.» «Can’t you see she looks shocked? Let her breathe!» «What in the bloody hell is she wearing?» The various voices overlapped in the exact moment in which you and the snow white boy had safely climbed on deck; however, everything you could do was to look around yourself in complete astonishment.

A large group of men was working on the ship, while only seven of them and a young girl were paying attention to your arrival; your eyes quickly took in both the strangers and your surroundings, and you definitely noticed that not only they were all dressed like pirates, but the ship seemed to be built exactly like one of those you generally saw in movies, historical re-enactments or museums.

«Oh no, roleplayers.» you whined in complete deject; they exchanged a confused glance among themselves, but eventually, only one of them spoke.

«I believe you’re confused, we’re pirates.» he clarified, and once again, his features seemed to be incredibly familiar, «I’m Chris, the Captain. She is Leana, my wife, and these are my friends.» you watched with dismay as Chris ended up naming his friends just like the characters of the novel you have been reading all afternoon.

«Oh holy shit, it’s even worse, cosplayers.» you nervously rubbed your eyes, shivering every now and then because of the wind mercilessly blowing on your soaked clothes.

«Poor thing, look at her!» Leana suddenly cooed, immediately rushing at your side and taking her jacket off in order to place it on your shoulders, «She’s freezing, let’s save the introductions for later, huh?»

«What if she’s a spy?» Jisung questioned, but his option was immediately silenced by Leana’s glare.

«In the middle of the ocean, Han?» she quickly retorted with sarcasm dripping from her tone, «What if it was mutiny?» she scoffed, gently pushing you to what seemed to be the Captain’s quarter, just to quickly make you sit in front of the small wood burning stove.

The following events seemed to happen in a confusing haze, you vividly remembered Leana commenting about her unfamiliarity with both the style and the fabric of your clothes as you allowed her both to undress you and to dress you up in fresh, warm clothes that belonged to her. Of course, now you were dressed like a pirate as well.

«What do you mean, you’re from Europe?» Chris had calmly repeated your words, «What kind of place is that?» you felt like crying out of frustration at his words. Under the Captain’s request Leanahad brought you into the ship’s interrogation room, and now you were sitting there, the whole room definitely smelling like blood – the strong scent more than enough to give you a headache, with nine pairs of eyes studying every single one of your moves.

«I don’t really feel like joking right now, I really want to go back home.» you repeated with a tired voice, not really understanding what was happening; it was like you had casually walked in the set of a movie, however, a terrifying feeling of dread creeping in your soul was suggesting you that there was definitely more to it. What if these people were real, and you had managed to shift inside the book you loved so much? No, that definitely couldn’t be the case, right?

«I don’t really feel like joking either, little lady,» in an impatient tone, Minho spoke out of the blue and quickly walked next to Chris, who was sitting in front of you at the other side of the table. If your heart picked up pace in happiness at the sight of your favourite character, it started hammering in your chest in pure dread as soon as Minho harshly planted his dagger in the wooden table, right in front of your folded hands. «next up is your tongue.»

«Nice work on terrifying her, Min Min.» Felix sarcastically commented his friend’s action, noticing how you started trembling once again, but this time everyone could easily figure out that it wasn’t because of the cold any longer.

«You cut her tongue, she can't talk, it's not that hard,» someone added, and if you weren't mistaken, he must have been Hyunjin, «see why I'm the one that usually handles the interrogation part?» he added with a sinister yet smug smile, and you had to force yourself to swallow that little bit of saliva you felt in your mouth, trying to avoid eye contact with both the pirates who were so casually talking about torture and interrogations.

«What if she drank too much sea water?» Seungmin chimed in, after he had been studying your behaviour with concern, «You know, in my medical books there are plenty of examples of people suffering from amnesia due to a huge amount of shock.» he suggested, and everyone seemed to consider that it could have been your case, with the only exception for Minho, who was staring at you with a look that you could swear that had probably killed someone at some point.

«We are currently sailing the Margoria Sea,» Chris spoke again, his voice a little kinder now that he had considered Seungmin’s suggestion, «and you’re on our pirate ship, the Golden Fleece.»

“Margoria,” you thought, “of course, in this universe, she's the goddess of the waves” you bit the inside of your cheek in frustration as you tried to convince yourself not to cry, recalling the exact moment the same goddess had been mentioned in the novel.

The more you thought about it, the more the surreal possibility of you shifting inside a book seemed to be the only possible answer to your list of infinite questions, especially because if those people really were cosplayers or actors, they would have eventually broken their act due to seeing you in the verge of having a panic attack. Moreover, the author had always been extremely descriptive in every single detail of the story, and therefore you found it a little bit too much of a strange coincidence for these people to naturally have the same somatic traits as the characters you had just finished reading about. It was undeniable that the people standing in front of you were the stark copy of the ones described in the book.

Few hours later, Chris’ authoritative voice filled the Captain’s quarters, and your eyes eagerly wandered through the room; you’ve read about this moment a lot of times, Chris would summon his long time friends in his quarters and they’d discuss what to do because he valued their opinion as if it was his own.

«Just, what is she doing there?» Minho spoke suddenly, clearly referring to your presence in the quarters; due to your first meeting, you were extremely wary about meeting his gaze, let alone the possibility of crossing his path by accident.

Actually, it’s not like destiny was working in your favour, since you were nervously standing in front of the wooden wall and next to Minho. Everything about your body language exposed how nervous you were about it: your arms were crossed in front of your chest, and you kept your legs spread just a tiny bit – enough to have a slight chance to attempt to sprint away if he randomly started to chase you in order to throw you off the deck.

«I swear Chris entrusted her to me literally two seconds ago,» Felix replied, eagerly waving his hand as if it could make his point even clearer, «pay attention when the Captain is speaking!» he snapped his fingers, admonished his friend, and you found yourself exhale the faintest trace of the hint of a brief laughter through your nose.

However, much to your dismay, you quickly realized that Minho’s hearing must have been otherworldly, since the barely audible noise you made did not go unnoticed by his ears, consequently making your face turn blank as soon as you felt his gaze burning into the side of your head. Hesitantly, you slowly turned your head to your right, confirming that Minho was most definitely staring at you; out of reflex, you immediately looked away, just to glance back at him for a short second.

Minho, who had been staring at you, secretly pleased about the fact that you seemed scared enough not to try some stupid tricks on them, shortly uncrossed his arms from the front of his chest, just to slightly lean towards you: he quickly mimicked the gesture of grabbing something with his hands, while mimicking a bite with his mouth at the same time. Instinctively, you rapidly tilted your head back as you followed your survival instinct, but you heavily slammed your head against the wooden wall behind you.

«Ow!» you winced in pain, grabbing the back of your head with both hands; you were certain that the impact you just felt was more than enough to give you a headache for days, and still, despite Leana immediately rushed at your side to see if you were okay, and despite the fact that you were crouching on the floor massaging your head, Minho kept his original position, staring in front of him as if nothing had happened.

Seungmin was right behind Leana, attentively cradling your head to see if you actually managed to hurt yourself; unbeknownst to you, Seungmin was actually holding back an amused laughter, since it has definitely been a while since he met someone as clumsy as you.

A couple of days later almost everyone seemed to have accepted you as a new entry of the crew; actually, you considered yourself lucky since most of the pirates on board seemed to not even notice your presence. Of course, you ended up going along with the amnesia excuse because the whole “you look like you all popped up from a book I’ve been reading and I’m trying to understand if I’m having a very vivid dream or I ended up shifting on accident but I actually didn’t really mean it and now I want to go back.” would have been definitely too troublesome to explain. Most importantly, you didn’t feel ready to process what could have happened to you but also, you didn’t want to face the realization that you had suddenly appeared in the middle of nowhere, without a real possibility to get back home safely.

Honestly you were pretty much useless on a pirate ship, and therefore you ended up in the kitchen, either helping Felix and the other cooks in their task of preparing the food or just cleaning and preparing the room where the pirates formed small groups and took turns to have their meals.

If the truth was that you really ended up in a novel, you had to admit that everyone beside Minho acted accordingly to their character. Chris and Leana acted as two lovebirds, completely smitten with each other; you rarely saw them – let’s guess why, but they overall seemed to act friendly towards you. Leana had eagerly helped you decorate the room that had been assigned to you, it was a little small and right next to the storage room – the window was wide enough for you to escape just in case, but it was perfectly okay to you, since you were hoping that you wouldn’t have to remain on the ship for too long.

Since Leana seemed to trust you, so did Chris; despite the fact that you’ve interacted only a handful of times, he seemed as reliable as he had been portrayed in the novel.

Felix and Seungmin were definitely the ones you’ve seen the most. Felix was literally acting as your keeper, paying attention to you as if he was a concerned older brother and not someone who you had met few days earlier. Still, you could expect this from him, since he had always been described as the kindest one out of their group – beside Jeongin.

Seungmin had examined your head a concerning amount of times by now, if you were to ask him; actually, he had quickly realized that you were pretending to have headaches only when Minho was around, and he simply got along with it. He treated you with respect, even if he seemed to be a little wary of your presence. «Let’s hope you can get your memories back soon,» he would say, «so that you can return home safely.» you never answered, his words always making your heart tighten as a reflexive answer.

Changbin, Jisung and Hyunjin were almost always nowhere to be seen; thanks to the author you knew that they had a gambling addiction, however, the only times you saw them they were joined by the hips, always joking around with each other – and Minho, always looking too busy to pay too much attention to you.

Jeongin was basically the miniature version of Chris: you knew that the Captain had saved him when he was still a little kid, and since then Jeongin had always followed Chris’ lead. He was the one that seemed to respect you the most, he was also absolutely certain that you must have been a Princess of a faraway land. «I’m really no one.» you would answer every time with an apologetic smile, earning a sad pout from the younger boy.

Minho, however, was openly against the idea of keeping you on board, and often suggested to throw you off the deck as soon as you started being too annoying. You couldn’t understand why he was so mean to you, and you weren’t definitely the only one to notice; more than once, the others had admonished his behaviour, reiterating the fact that he should have been a little bit nicer to you, especially after what you have been through.

«That’s exactly the point, Chris, we don’t know! She could be a siren or just a lunatic witch,» you overheard him argue with the Captain one day, «face it, if that were the case, no one would be immune to her spells, not even your beloved wife.» your hands instinctively clenched on the broomstick you were holding to sweep the floor of the corridors, and your gaze was lost somewhere in the wooden floor.

«She might as well be telling the truth,» you heard Chris answer in his usual calm tone, «I don’t want to deny her a shelter just because she lost her memories, because that sure wasn’t her fault.»

«What are we listening to?» Changbin’s voice right next to your ear almost made you jump out of your skin due to the sudden fright; his eyes widened in stupor as you almost dropped your hold on your broomstick – thing which would have definitely expose the fact that you were overhearing a very secret conversation. Luckily, Changbin’s reflexes were drastically quicker than yours, and so he collected the broomstick just in time, before handing it to you once again with an amused smirk. He placed his ear against the door, quickly connecting the animated argument to your sad expression and he gently smiled to you in an unexpected friendly manner.

«Don't worry too much about it, Ace, he’ll come around.» Changbin briefly stated before walking away, heading back towards the deck at the end of the corridor without uttering another word; you shortly stood there, speechless, staring at his withering shoulders as his silhouette gradually disappeared in the light coming from outside.

“What the hell?” you thought, incredulous: Changbin had barely spoken to you and now he decided to give you a random and most definitely sarcastic nickname and offer you words of comfort, all of a sudden?

“Something bad is definitely gonna happen,” you quickly deduced, going back to your original task; you were about to start sweeping the floor once again, before an ominous aura seemed to fill the packed space of the corridor.

“There it is,” you announced to yourself, refusing to turn around to confirm the suspicion that Minho had left Chris’ chambers, “oh, divine Xena, mighty princess forged in the heat of battle,please help me with this one,” you instinctively moved out of inertia, backing towards the nearest wall as Minho was walking towards your frame.

“Here we go, it’s him!” you dramatically thought, hugging the broomstick to your chest as if your life depended on it, the only shield between you and Minho, who was standing in front of you with his usual furious stare that magically seemed to disappear as soon as his eyes diverted from your general direction.

«I don’t know what you did to have everyone wrapped around your little finger, but that’s not gonna work with me, princess.» Minho spoke with a harsh tone, cornering you against the wall by placing his left hand next to your head; silence fell between the two of you, and you instinctively clenched your fists around the broomstick, just to be able to attempt to defend yourself in some kind of way.

Could you do self defence while using a broom? Of course. Could you defend yourself against Minho, judging the sheer force he used to plant a dagger in a thick wooden table? Of course not.

Minho spent few seconds studying your face with incredible attention, as if, if he stared hard enough, you would transform into a whole different creature, confirming his theories about you. However, Minho momentarily seemed to have forgotten the concept of personal space, because his nose brushed against yours at least twice as you were doing your best to avoid his piercing gaze.

«Now that I take a closer look, you’re definitely not as pretty as a siren.» he suddenly stated with a sly grin while raising his eyebrow, before detaching from you altogether, just to walk towards the deck’s direction.

«And you had to almost kiss me to find out?» you yelled back a little louder than intended as soon as he was at a reasonable distance; to say that you were outraged was an understatement, you were furious.

To think Minho was your favourite character when you were reading the novel, what were you, crazy?

Despite the fact that you were genuinely doing your best to avoid meeting Minho, the pirate was clearly doing the opposite, neutralizing every single one of your good purposes as the two of you seemed to keep running into each other. It didn’t matter whether you were simply doing your assigned chores or you were peacefully chatting with one of the pirates, he always seemed to find something to do in order to get on your nerves; sometimes he would just accidentally knock random things off the table so that you had to pick them up and clean them again, other times he would interrupt a conversation just to be mean at you.

Minho was definitely getting on your nerves, but you did your best not to pay too much attention to him, since you definitely had more important things to think about. Inside your heart, the growing feeling of homesickness was constantly calling for your attention; you often found yourself on the verge of tears, but it was a side of you that you were determined not to show to anyone, thing that lead you to cry yourself to sleep more than once.

The part of the crew assigned to the kitchen, of course, always had their meal before the others did, and more than once it led to your small group of friend to join, and today was not exception. Walking out of the kitchen, you saw Minho, Jeongin, Chris, Jisung and Seungmin sitting at one of the long tables in the room while eating and loudly chatting, and now that Jeongin was hastily and eagerly waving his arm to let you know that you should have sat next to him to have your quick lunch, you realized that yet another time, you couldn’t escape your fate of avoiding Minho as if he was the plague.

«May I, uh...» you walked next to Leana, who was walking towards their table as well; she immediately tilted her head towards you, listening, «May I approach the bitch?» she bursted out laughing really loudly, immediately understanding that you were talking about Minho; however, that happy and hilarious bubble of joy disappeared the same moment you heard Hyunjin’s voice right behind the both of you.

«What did you say?» never did the simple request to repeat something seem more dangerous; you swallowed, feeling your blood turn cold in the same moment the flashback of him mentioning his “interrogation habits” popped into your mind. However, the few weeks you spent living among pirates were teaching you how to build up your courage – or more like “fake it until you make it”, as someone would say.

«I said “may I approach the bench”,» you answered, pretending to be annoyed with the useless repetition of your sentence, nodding towards the long benches that you were using instead of chairs, «what did you think I said?»

The crew was incredibly hungry that day, you could easily tell from the speed at which they ate and the various groups took turns, thing that didn’t give you much occasion to chat with them as you often did; instead, you were frantically walking back and forth from the kitchen, helping two other pirates to deliver food to everyone.

“Maybe if I find a similar book I can get home,” you thought as you absently piled the dirty and empty plates on top of each other before carrying them to the kitchen, just to come back with clean ones, “where am I supposed to find a book in the open sea?” you sighed in deject, not liking the direction of your thoughts.

«I think you missed a spot, princess.» Minho’s arrogant tone caught your attention, and you watched with total unbewildrement the pirate hit the side of one of the wooden jugs placed on the tables, knocking it to the ground and spilling the water on the floor.

As if you were under a magic spell, all the traces of sadness seemed to vanish from your soul, just to be replaced by sheer anger; you were beyond furious, how dare he? He didn’t trust you, and you could understand his point of view; it pained you to admit to yourself that if you were in his shoes, you would have probably done the same. However, you could endure the teasing, you could endure everything he was putting you through but you definitely drew the line at this kind of disrespect. You closed your fist so tightly that you were absolutely sure that your fingertips would feel momentarily numb as soon as you tried to open your hands, and you were certain that your nails were digging a half crescent moon shape in your skin.

However, you and Minho were not the only one left in the room; Hyunjin, Changbin, Chris and few other crew members were not finished eating and therefore, they saw all the scene unfolding.

«Hey, fuck face!» you loudly called out, claiming both Minho and the other’s attention, «I get you feel powerful because you can swing a fucking sword, but you should learn to respect people who are working!» you stood your grounds, ignoring your heart wildly hammering in your chest and the nervousness you felt as soon as Minho stopped walking, just to turn towards you.

«You’re that interested in losing your head, huh?» Minho replied with an undecipherable gaze, quickly walking back towards you.

If there was a god out there, you were certain that they must have glanced towards your direction in that same moment, because right before Minho could close the distance between the two of you, Changbin’s shoulders appeared in your field of view.

«Calm down, buddy,» Changbin was still peacefully chewing on his food as he stopped him, placing a hand on the pirate’s chest, who tilted his head just enough to keep furiously glance at you.

«If we were still home, I would have get you arrested!» you spat, your chest tightening at the thought of your home town but also incredibly thankful to Changbin.

«Again with those stories? You sure do have flowers growing in your head, princess!» Minho immediately answered, trying to walk around Changbin, who was still pushing against his chest.

However, what no one actually expected was for you to actually try to confront Minho from up close, attempting to walk around Changbin as well; honestly, you were too furious to notice that you were about to face a pirate while completely unarmed and not knowing how to fight.

«Easy there,» Hyunjin suddenly spoke with amusement from behind your shoulders, placing his arms under your armpits just to stop you and hold you back.

«Say that to him, not to me!» you tried to free yourself without success; Hyunjin was very strong despite his slim figure and therefore, even when you kicked both your legs in the air while urging him to let you go, he didn’t move the slightest.

«Don’t you think this is the kind of energy we need on board, Binnie?» Hyunjin laughed, eagerly chatting as he had no trouble holding you back; Changbin scoffed a laugh as well, since it’s been a while since he saw Minho getting riled up that easily.

«That’s enough,» Chris’ authoritative voice seemed to be the only thing that could calm the atmosphere; «you, go back to your room.» he told you in a scolding tone.

«What?!» you whined, «I didn’t do anything!» you added, trying to wiggle out of Hyunjin’s hold once again.

«Don’t challenge my authority,» Chris shortly admonished you, his stern gaze not leaving any room to debate his decision, before turning his attention towards Minho, «you’re going to your room as well.»

«What?!» Minho asked in astonishment, not believing his Captain’s orders.

«I don’t want to see the two of you on deck until at least tomorrow morning.» Chris added, and that was your call to understand that the argument was officially over.

Hyunjin had offered to accompany you to your room, and as soon as you were about to walk out the door, you slightly turned towards Minho: you placed your index finger on your lower eyelid, tugging on the skin as you shortly sticked out your tongue as well. Still, you immediately turned around, so that you couldn’t see Changbin struggling not to laugh, reaching out to stop Minho once again, who was glancing at him with a murderous look.

“I want to go home,” you whined to yourself as soon as you were sitting on your bed once again; you laid down on your back, missing the sensation of Cleo immediately walking up and cuddle at your side. You wondered what happened back home, even though you were certain that your cat had found a way out of your apartment, since the window was still open when you had fallen asleep, however, what about your friends? Was someone worried about your sudden disappearance? Moreover, judging by the amount of days that had passed, you had most definitely lost your job.

«Ah, I hope they choose a nice pic of me if I made it to the news as a missing person.» you mumbled to yourself, your gaze lost in the wooden tiles of your ceiling.

“I could draw tiny lines on the wall to count the days I’m spending on here,” the sudden idea popped up in your mind, only for you to abandon it as quickly as it came. First of all, you didn’t have a knife – let alone a dagger or a sword, and therefore it would be impossible for you to engrave marks in the wall, most importantly, what if they found out and you had to repay for the things you’ve damaged? Those were the basic things happening back home, and although you were unsure about various dynamics of the world you were in, you didn’t want to try your luck. Chris looked scary while pissed off, and you read about how cruel he could be, you definitely needed him on your side.

“I could try to run away as soon as we reach the first port,” you wondered, but that option was discarded as well; although touching land was the only thing to confirm the shifting theory, you didn’t know what could have happened if it was the truth. Abduction and prostitution were sadly pretty much real in that world as well, and once again, you decided that the safest option was to stick around Chris and his crew; after all, what could harm you if he was in charge of basically everything and everyone sailing above the water’s surface?

Minho’s menacious glare appeared in your mind, and you reached out to grab the pillow from under your neck just to slam it against your face, “it’s not like I can throw a meteor at him, I’m not Zhongli,”, you thought, before suddenly sitting up in bed. «Who’s going to do my daily commissions in Genshin Impact now?!» you mumbled to yourself, thinking about all the time you’ve spent playing – time that of course had been wasted due to what happened.

Someone knocked on your door, and you genuinely wondered about pretending to be asleep in order to avoid giving explanation about what happened at dinner; nevertheless, you allowed the person in.

«Hi there,» Felix greeted with his usual cheerful tone, «I heard you caused quite a riot today.» he added, placing a small tray with a glass of water and a plate of stew on the small table next to your bed; you sighed, falling back to the bed and hoping that those blankets could swallow your frame and teleport you back home.

«I didn’t do anything, Felix,» you clarified, «Minho just hates me for no reason.» «Well..» «Please, don’t tell me this is the part where you say things like “he hasn’t always been like this”, or something.» you immediately added, preventing him from talking any further.

«Nah, he’s always been like this.» Felix quickly shook his head, sitting on the small mattress and next to your knees; he tapped your thigh twice, telling you to sit up so that you could eat dinner. «Keep up that attitude though, it’s funny to watch.» he chuckled, his face quietly shifting into a concerned frown as he noticed how you kept playing with your food instead of actually eating it.

Maybe from the outside your interactions with Minho were unusual enough to be considered funny, but to you they were incredibly stressful.

First of all, Minho had always been your favourite character, and you would have never imagined that he could despise your presence so much; most importantly, he had always been described as a whole different person, and you found yourself wondering why you wanted to be accepted by him so much. You were aware that late at night the dining room became the meeting point where some pirates gathered to drink and gamble, both because you had read it in the novel and because some sleepless nights you had passed in front of its door as you were walking towards the deck, hearing the echo of thunderous laughter or the loud chatter of the ones who lost and were unhappy with the rules. Sometimes the door wasn’t even completely close, and as you peeked inside on your way through the corridor, you could see Minho joke around and laugh with the others, thing that always made you feel sad and somehow, lonely.

«Aren’t you hungry?» Felix gently asked, noticing how you went silent all of a sudden. «It’s not that funny, though: he acts like I’m going to annihilate everyone while you sleep and well – he basically adores you.» you ignored his question, instead referring to the fact that he was the only one he didn’t threaten to kill anytime Lix called him “Min Min”.

«I’ll tell you a super secret secret,» Felix started to whisper, and you shifted your gaze on his lips, making sure that you could effectively understand what he was about to say, «me and Minho are half brothers.»

«What?!» you immediately shrieked out of disbelief, that was never mentioned in the novel! You clearly recalled their background stories: Minho was a bounty hunter, while Felix was… Felix… Well, he was…

“Now that I think of it, Felix’s past hasn’t been mentioned, not even once.” your questioning gaze met Felix, who eagerly nodded at the silent questions in your eyes.

«Our mother remarried,» he explained, before interrupting himself, «now that I think of it, mom and Minho’s father weren’t married – well, that’s not important.» Felix dismissively waved his hand in front of himself, and for the next hour, you had eventually started eating as you listened to his stories about him and Minho; despite all the times you wanted to clarify that “yes, I already know this part,” you kept silent, smiling at Felix’s eagerness and at the affection towards his brother that you could feel through his words.

«He’s really amazing,» he praised, «he’s always protected me since we were kids – you know, my… hair colour is a bit unusual.» he admitted, recalling the times when Minho would come home covered in bruises because he had protected Felix from being bullied.

«It’s beautiful, though,» you immediately replied, making Felix widen his eyes in sudden surprise, «you look like you've walked out of a fairy tale... and really, it suits you.» you added, making the pirate smile with a sad smile.

«I often said I could dye it, but Minho was always against the idea.» he said, but your attention was focused elsewhere.

“So, hair dye exist in this world as well?” the gears in your brain started to spin and twirl as you thought; once again, it had never been mentioned in the novel, but you thought that the author didn’t need to, since the story revolved around Chris’ point of view.

«Get some rest, princess,» Felix excused himself, collecting the now empty tray as he stood up; you nodded, the side of your lips curling into a small smile at how different the nickname sounded as it was spoken by the two brothers, «I’ll try to talk to him.» he reassured, and for a second, you decided to believe him.

Much to your dismay, nothing had changed after a week, leaving you to your usual routine; however, you had to admit that you barely saw Minho around, and when you did, you adverted your gaze before he could meet yours. It was as if, unlike the first days, he was keeping his distance as well, and you were grateful to Felix for it. “If you can’t defeat them, become their friend, some said!” you thought, “well, I failed miserably.”

Felix was now basically what you could call your best friend, as he had declared more than once; he always insisted for you to sit next to him when you were eating, and once you were finished with your daily chores, he would explain the most random things to you. Actually, you were incredibly grateful to him because you were finally able to tie a knot on a rope, thing which would have come handy if you ever decided to escape.

Most importantly, you and Felix had something really particular in common, and that was your admiration towards Chris’ and Leana’s relationship. The poor couple could have been simply standing in front of each other talking about the most random things and you would say something like «they’re so pretty I could punch myself in the face,» immediately echoed by Felix that would reply «wait for it, he’s gonna move a strand of hair behind her ear because of the wind,» and the both of you would dreamily coo at them as Chris did exactly what Felix had predicted.

Seungmin was still visiting you every now and then – mostly when you pretended that your head hurt because you saw Minho appearing out of nowhere and he was definitely too close for comfort, but nonetheless he spent most of his days in his study.

Jeongin was mostly spending his time with Seungmin, now, the older pirate insisting that he needed an assistant because he was tired to everything on his own, and Jeongin eagerly following his orders.

Jisung, Changbin and Hyunjin were now seeing you in a whole different light: the day you fearlessly challenged Minho seemed to have made you earn their respect, and they often tried to lure you into joining a gamble match with them. «Thanks, but I don’t know the rules,» you dismissively answered every time, and as soon as one of them suggested they could teach you, you immediately added that you didn’t have anything valuable you could gamble on.

Leana was more or less, an addiction to the piece of furniture in your small room; anytime she wasn’t with Chris, she would keep you company, telling you about the most various and dangerous adventures they have lived while sailing. You eagerly listened to her, often interrupting her to ask for more details, thing that she never seemed to mind, answering your question with the same eagerness. Leana’s stories were a perfect indicator for you to deduce that between what happened in the book and your arrival on the ship, at least three years seemed to have passed; years in which Chris’ domain on the sea had become even more clear.

«It’s like being on of those cruise ships; no one dares attacking us and we can do whatever we want to, I love it.» she confessed, voicing her hopes about you liking being on board as well; you didn’t trust yourself, and therefore you simply nodded.

«Come on, girls night,» Leana had announced one day as she sat on your bed, and you furrowed your eyebrows in obvious reluctance, familiar with the concept of her words; «has anyone caught your eye?» Leana’s eyes seemed to glimmer in curiosity, and you found yourself sigh in deject.

«Yes, I mean, no.» you spoke, unclear, confusing yourself as well. What were you supposed to say? You’ve never looked at anyone under that particular light, after all!

“Well, actually…” you immediately stopped the train of your thoughts: Minho was undoubtedly charming and handsome, but he was behaving like a complete jerk towards you, and therefore you sighed, resigning yourself to your fate as you met Leana’s curious gaze.

«Minho is cute, but don’t tell him I said so, I particularly like my head attached to my neck.» you confessed, panicking as you saw her eyes widen in disbelief.

«I would have bet money on Felix!» she yelled, just to lower her voice mid-sentence, staring at you in complete astonishment.

«Felix is really cute, but everything’s really very… platonic.» you explained, avoiding saying something she would have found too weird and incomprehensible like “he’s always nice andhe gives me really good vibes!”

However, Leana seemed to ponder your words about Minho, confessing that one morning, she saw Felix and Minho talking very animately, as if they were arguing about something. «Now that I think about it, it was the morning after you’ve been both confined to your room.» she added, and she confirmed as well the fact that the pirate seemed to been avoiding your presence as well.

Leana had soon returned to the Captain’s quarters, leaving you in the loneliness of your room; once again, you couldn’t sleep and therefore, you found yourself headed towards the deck of the Golden Fleece.

The night sky was clear, the stars seemed a bright blanket that made you feel a tiny bit less lonelier; you tried to smile at the thought that in your life, you had never seen so many stars due to the industrialization and the fact that there was always a source of light around the city. On your way to the deck you ended up both carrying one of the blankets in your room and stealing an apple from the storage room, and in the end you were sitting alone in a dark corner of the ship, completely hidden from the helmsman’s eyes and from the few pirates who were awake and in charge of taking care of the ship as long as the others were asleep – or gambling.

As your gaze lost itself in the darkness ahead of you, your thoughts inevitably wandered to dangerous places, and you found yourself silently crying because you missed home. Although in the past days you have done your best to avoid even the faintest traces of intrusive thoughts, it was probably time to face the truth; even though it seemed impossible, you ended up in a fantasy novel, and of course the historical period was completely different from the one you were living in, to the point of not having the comforts you were used to have in your everyday life. A phone, internet, a hairdryer, heating, a microwave… Despite the fact that you were slowly getting used to this kind of life, you madly wanted to go back home, and the thing that completely broke your heart was the fact that you highly doubted it would even be remotely possible. After all, the lady at the bookshop had clearly said that you bought the only copy of the novel, copy which was currently still on your coffee table in another dimension.

Completely engrossed in your crying session, you didn’t notice that someone had approached your trembling figure.

«See? I didn’t lie when I said you were probably a thief.» Minho’s voice shook you out of your train of thoughts, but you weren’t in the right mind to answer to his constant teasing; you stared both at him and the apple in your hand – apple that you ended up biting only once, just to wordlessly focus your gaze once again on the darkness in front of the ship.

The moon was high up in the sky, and Minho could definitely see the fact that you were crying, especially because you weren’t doing a good job to hide your occasional hiccups; he has never seen you so vulnerable, after all you’ve been arguing like dog and cat since the day they had saved you, but yet, he breathed a long sigh, before eventually walking closer to you, crouching down so that you were more or less at the same eye-level.

«Are you okay?» Minho questioned, every trace of hostility suddenly disappearing from his voice, and he saw you simply shook your head because no, you were definitely not okay. «Can I sit next to you?» he asked again, and waited for you to answer before he dared to move.

«Why, so you can throw me off deck as soon as I cry too loudly?» you spat with annoyance, and Minho scoffed as a silent answer. If he were to be honest, he wasn’t doing it for you, but for Felix; his brother had constantly told him to give you a chance, but the pirate kept ignoring him; however, for some weird reason he didn’t want to think about, the sight of you curled up against the wall just to cry your eyes out didn’t please him as he originally thought. «Yeah, something like that.» Minho shrugged, before sitting next to you. A somewhat comfortable silence fell on the corner you had been secretly occupying, a silence made of you occasionally hiccuping trying to hide a sob just to wipe your tears with part of your blanket and Minho completely silence as his brain tried to come up with a reasonable question about why you seemed so unconsolable.

«Has something happened in the kitchen? Did Felix say something bad?» Minho gently tried, even if he doubted that was the case, since Felix was the first among the people who seemed to be completely smitten with your presence; confirming his thoughts, he saw you shook your head without voicing an actual answer.

«Have you been having nightmares?» he questioned again, his left hand hesitantly scratching his left thigh; «it happens a lot, especially the first times you sail.» again, you wordlessly shook your head, and silence fell once again.

It went on for minutes, Minho coming up with the most various questions and you simply shaking your head because he never got it right.

«I miss my hairdryer.» you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

«Your… your what?» Minho quietly echoed, confusion dripping from his voice.

«My hairdryer,» you repeated, moving your right hand in the air just to mimic a general shape of one, «it’s made like this, and we use it to blow hot hair on our hair to make it dry faster, it works with electric – oh, never mind, you already think I’m a lunatic witch.» your voice trembled at the end of the sentence, and you ended up wiping more tears escaping the corner of your eyes, as Minho was staring at you with an indecipherable gaze.

«Tell me more,» he gently spoke – almost in a hesitant way, urging you to go on, «about your crazy stories, I want to hear more.»

«And give you extra reasons to make fun of me on a daily basis? No, thank you.» you bitterly answered, and Minho’s gentle smile slowly vanished from his lips. The pirate kept studying your features, pensive, and few seconds later his right hand was hovering in front of your face, his pinky finger outstretched.

«I won’t, I promise. I call truce.» he said, and for the first time you turned your head to glance at him, unconsciously smiling at the sight of a pirate using pinky promises as a way to seal official promises; it was as if you could feel your heart tremble, the sight of the Minho you used to adore while reading your favourite book was suddenly not that unreachable anymore, and something in his determined gaze illuminated by the moon made you trust him.

Unbeknownst to you, while intertwining your pinky finger with his, a little part of your fate had changed forever.

«I think I’ve never missed Cleo so much.» you quietly sniffled. «Your lover?» Minho questioned immediately. «My cat.» you clarified without hesitation.

Eventually, you and Minho shortly ended up bonding over your mutual love for cats. You described her to him, explaining that to you, she was indeed unique and beautiful; her black fur was occasionally painted with ginger spots, and her eyes were a light shade of green.

«She always looked incredibly pissed off, just like me.» you scoffed a laugh, and you heard Minho chuckle softly at your words.

«To think you were going to face me without a weapon, you sure do have some guts,» he commented, and you answered with an exasperated sigh, «you could ask Jisung to teach you a trick or two.» your head immediately turned towards him at the unexpected suggestion. Minho simply shrugged, explaining that you would be more useful on deck if something were to happen.

«I used to have three cats before I choose to sail with Chris.» he admitted then, changing the topic of your conversation, smiling to himself.

«I know.» you answered without thinking about it too much; only when you felt Minho’s inquisitive stare on your face, you panicked. Clearly you couldn’t tell him that you knew a lot of details about his life before he started being a pirate because you read it in a novel, and therefore you simply settled for a simple white lie known as: «Felix told me about it.»

«I miss my hair conditioner as well,» you admitted, «I even got the special edition with keratin – you know with the golden plastic jar and everything, and never got to use it more than twice.» for at least half of the night, you ended up explaining Minho every detail of what life was like where you were living; skyscrapers, air conditioning, electricity, supermarkets, videogames and malls, along with every kind of food you ended up craving, Minho had patiently listened to your rambles, occasionally asking about few clarifications every now and then.

«You know, princess, I still think you have flowers growing in your head.» Minho spoke after the two of you eventually managed to finish conversation topics; your heart sank to your stomach at his words, and of course, you felt like crying again.

«However…» Minho spoke again, his tone a little more firmer than before, as if he understood that his words hurt you, «your stories are a bit too much filled with details to be completely made up.»

«So?» you questioned him, glancing at him while leaning your head against the wooden surface behind your shoulders.

«So,» Minho echoed, mirroring your actions, so that you were staring at each other, «I think that somewhere in that flower field, there’s a little bit of truth.» a relieved smile erupted on your features, and you felt genuinely happy about the fact that finally Minho decided to take you seriously.

Despite the fact that you had managed to calm down, neither of you dared to move, and as you kept talking about your life, you ended up sharing your blanket with the pirate, whose hands were now as cold as ice.

Somewhere during the few hours remaining before dawn, you ended up falling asleep, unconsciously leaning against Minho’s shoulders, who didn’t move in order not to wake you up. However, as soon as the pirate saw a small glimpse of light starting to illuminate the sky as a signal of a new day, he gently picked you up just to carry you to your bedroom.

«Fucking finally, Min Min,» Felix’s groggy whisper called out from Minho’s shoulders; the younger had just woken up, and to be honest, he was convinced about being still asleep as the first thing he saw were his brother – who claimed to hate you, carrying you – who claimed to hate him, bridal style and soundly asleep towards your room. «Not a word, Lix.» Minho had simply answered, not bothering to stop.

Few days later, everyone was aware about the drastic change of Minho’s behaviour towards you, since the pirate went to completely ignore your presence to greet you occasionally. You found yourself smiling anytime it happened, your smile vanishing as soon as you could feel two different set of piercing gazes on your face; on one side, Leana was looking at you with pure excitement in her eyes, as to say «did you see it?» while on the other side, Felix was following the scene with a knowing smile, happy about his brother’s eventual change of heart.

Moreover, you had to admit to yourself that your mood was significantly better since you didn’t have to constantly watch your back, to the point where you found yourself thinking that if things kept going like this, you could have definitely got used to this new life. To be completely honest, you could already picture yourself trying to introduce some of your modern technology into this world, becoming the cliché mad scientist holed up in her laboratory, shouting a loud «it could work!» followed by a manic laughter as soon as you managed to create something useful.

Taking a small break from your daily chores, you decided to take a stroll on deck, enjoying what seemed to be the last days of summer; the days had already begun to shorten and in the back of your mind, you wondered how cold could it get on a pirate ship during winter, but you weren’t sure you wanted to know an actual answer, when out the corner of you eye, you saw them.

At first, you thought that either your mind was playing tricks on you or you were hallucinating, but once you turned your complete attention to the sea, you distinctly saw that there was a small group formed by seven girls not too far from where you were, casually sitting on some random pieces of wood – most definitely what remained of a sunken ship, while brushing their luscious hair; you narrowed your eyes as if trying to get a better view, because you could swear that all of them had a long fish tail.

“Mermaids?” you wondered; after all, you didn’t know how this world worked in the first place, and based on Minho’s accusations to you, for all you knew, they could be more than a superstition.

«Sirens!» the loud shout from the crow’s nest seemed to alert everyone, confirming that you weren’t hallucinating, but you weren’t sure what you were supposed to do in this situation; you saw some pirates running back to their quarters, as if it was a desperate attempt not to be lured by their voices.

Few minutes later, the situation was definitely taking a drastic and terrifying turn: some pirates were throwing themselves off deck just to try their luck swimming towards the sirens and therefore swimming towards their death, while the others kept soundlessly walking toward the railing as if they were possessed, their eyes void of any emotion.

Quirking a brow you stared at the group of sirens once again, silently admiring their beauty and their pretty tail. However something wasn’t adding up: you could clearly see their lips move, but you seemed to be the only one who couldn’t hear their chant.

Leana’s shoulder harshly bumping against yours was what made you wake up from your silent daze; like anyone else, her eyes were unfocused, and she had already thrown one leg over the railing.

«Wait, no!» yelling at her to stop, you covered her ears with your hands out of instinct, when the unthinkable happened: the fog that seemed to cloud Leana’s gaze had vanished as soon as you touched her, and she looked at both herself and you with a puzzled expression.

«What’s happening?» she questioned, confused, «why can’t I hear them?» at her question, it was as if your thoughts began to align, quickly forming a more or less clever answer; could it be that it was because you were from another dimension? You immediately tested your wild guess, wrapping around her wrist the hair tie you always kept on your wrist.

«Still nothing?» you asked, helping her safely climb back on deck, so that no one else could drag her in the water out of accident.

«I can see them singing, but I can’t hear them,» she confirmed with astonishment, glancing at the small elastic band now adorning her wrist, «is this some sort of talisman?» she questioned again but you kept silent, not sure about what you should have answered.

“Wait, if this managed to help her, this means that…”

«Leana, where are my clothes,? You know, the ones I was wearing when you found me in the sea?» you immediately questioned her: if things really were what they seemed, maybe you has a chance to save everyone.

«Come with me.» Leana immediately replied, and shortly after you both raced to the Captain’s quarters as if you were running against time.

«I have an idea, but that will make me sound like a lunatic witch» you quoted Minho, before explaining yourself, «we need to shred them in as many pieces we can and stick them inside the other’s clothes.» you kept your jeans in your hands, handing her both the cotton t-shirts you were wearing at home; however, there was no sign of mock in her eyes.

«You already saved my life, I trust you, witch or not.» she encouraged, and after nodding and each other Leana grabbed two of Chris’ daggers, and after handing one to you as well, you both ran back on deck.

“This is so wrong,” you thought, “I’m about to act like a typical heroine and I don’t have a catchphrase to say!” adrenaline was running trough your veins to the point of making you delirious, and you mentally tried to come up with an outstanding idea as fast as you could?

“How about “for Frodo”?… No, that would be plagiarism,” you kept thinking as you and Leana closed the Captain’s quarters room behind your shoulders, “I got it, “Geronimo!”… Nah, too corny.”

«I’ll take the right side and you take the left side?» Leana urged, already cutting some fabric out of your t-shirt with her dagger; she snapped you out of your thoughts, and your eyes immediately went back on the scenery in front of you.

No more than thirty pirates were left – a quarter of the crew, and much to your dismay, you noticed from the corner of your eye how Chris, Seungmin and Changbin were already in the water.

«Hey Leana, you know what we say in Europe before doing things like this?» your heart was hammering in your chest to the point you were certain it was trying to escape your body.

«Uh... May Margoria have mercy on us?» she tried, as the both of you started walking in opposite directions.

«No, no, it’s even better,» you chuckled at your own thoughts, before encouraging the both of you with a short and simple: «it’s Britney, bitch.»

From that moment, you and Leana were running like two desperate women on a mission, and you tried to ignore the pain that your heart was feeling as you were repeatedly cutting your pair of favourite jeans.

“It’s for a fucking good cause,” you thought motivating yourself, urging your legs to move faster.

Actually, if you and Leana were feeling like two heroes out of an adventure novel, the sight from the outside looked really bizarre: the deck was completely silent as the pirates were walking like zombies, and the only noise was the one made from your heels as you frantically ran back and fort, not to mention that you were occasionally screaming «tag, you’re it!» before running towards the next pirate.

Moreover, as soon as someone of the crew managed to wake up, nor you nor Leana ever stopped to explain what was going on; you just pushed a few pieces of uncommon fabric against their chest just to shout an order for them to follow. You could feel your lungs burn, and although you desperately wanted to stop and catch your breath, you saw that Minho was in the same position Leana had been in few minutes earlier and you quickly urged your legs to run faster, somehow.

“Why the fuck I never did jogging while I was home?” you internally cursed yourself, but the most important thing was that you managed to stop Minho by a harsh grip on his strong bicep. Minho’s eyes increasingly focused, and he looked at you with bewilderment; you didn’t give him time to ask anything, because you thrusted the only piece of fabric you had left in his hand.

«See this? This was my favourite pair of jeans,» you spoke, your breath ragged due to the fact that you had been running without stopping for more time than you were used to, Minho was about to question why he couldn’t hear the sirens anymore, when you interrupted him again, «let go of this damn denim fabric, and I’ll kill you.»

«What’s going on?» Minho finally questioned, swooning his leg over the railing so that he was once again safely on deck, but before you could answer, Leana had quickly walked towards you with Felix, Jisung, Hyunjin and few of the pirates who had managed to wake up, still clutching the piece of fabric as instructed.

By now, you had managed to save everyone who was still on deck, however, you still had a big problem: the majority of your crew – including the Captain, was still swimming towards the sirens.

«What now?» Leana questioned, her concerned eyes locked on her husband.

«I don’t know.» your shoulders fell as you admitted disheartened, your trembling hands still desperately holding Minho’s hands over what was left of your favourite pair of jeans. «Aren’t you still wearing that thing underneath your shirt?» Leana questioned, and your right hand reflexively touched your bra over your linen shirt. “Not my Victoria’s Secret…” you thought, but Leana quickly dismissed her own idea. «It’s not like we can throw ourselves down there, we’ll never reach them in time.» she added, and a nervous silence fell once again. The pirates kept silent, not daring to interrupt your conversation with Leana; no one knew what was happening but for all they knew, they owed their life to the both of you. However, the sirens have been focusing their attention on your presence for a while, and as you were considering some stupid and wild idea out of panic, the sirens had stopped singing; the pirates in the water woke up immediately from their daze, immediately yelling to each other to swim back to the Golden Fleece, and your head started to spin with confusion.

Apparently, for whatever reason, the sirens decided they weren’t hungry anymore, and therefore decided to leave, disappearing under the surface of water. Unbeknownst to you, those sirens knew about travelers like you, for it was not the first time that someone immune to their alluring voices had defeated them.

The pirates were now climbing on deck, and if it weren’t for Minho’s arms quickly wrapping around your waist, you would have fallen on your knees as the rush of adrenaline left your body altogether.

«What a week, huh?» you joked, your voice low enough only for the pirate to hear.

«It’s monday morning, princess.» Minho absently replied, studying your exhausted features and actually concerned about the state you were in.

Needless to say, less than an hour later – as soon as everyone had changed out of their soaked clothes, you found yourself in the Captain’s quarters with nine pair of eyes studying you once again; however, this time, the atmosphere was completely different.

«Although we are grateful to you, I believe we need an explanation.» Chris simply questioned; even though his voice remained polite, you could easily notice that he was demanding the truth.

«Are you really a witch?» Hyunjin suggested curiously and without hostility; you shook your head no, and your gaze briefly locked with Minho, who gave you a short nod, as to encourage you to tell them what you had told him as well.

«I’m not a witch, I.. » you sighed, what were you supposed to say? You definitely couldn’t break out the news that they were characters from a novel, but you could definitely tell them part of the truth, «I’m from another world. Or just another dimension, I don’t know. The thing is, at home everything works very different from here and… I really don’t know what to say. I ended up falling asleep in my house and waking up in the sea, right before you saved me.»

The room was silent for some seconds, before they eventually started discussing your explanation, but overall, everyone seemed to believe you.

«We are in your debt.» Chris announced, standing up from his chair, and you felt nervous all of a sudden; you loved his character and how reliable he was despite being a pirate, however, you always thought that he was a little bit too dramatic, especially in these kind of situations.

«No, no. We’re good buddy, really.» you anxiously waved your hands in front of you, as if to shake away the thought of having a whole crew of pirates indebted to you, «besides, you saved me first, I returned the favor, we’re even.»

«At least, allow us to help you!» Leana insisted, reiterating the fact that if they were alive was exclusively because of you.

«Do you remember how you ended up here?» Seungmin added, agreeing with Leana.

«I bought a book – a very specific one, and somehow I ended up shifting.»you had shortly explained; the information sent them into another brief discussion among themselves.

«Maybe fate is really on your side,» Chris commented, «we’ll be arriving to O’dyllita in few days; the capital – O’draxxia is known for having the biggest and best-stocked library of all known land.» the Captain explained that you could try visit there, to see if you could find anything regarding shifting dimension.

«Of course, if you don’t, you’ll be welcome to stay with us!» Jeongin had quickly added, and you found yourself nodding at his eagerness, thanking everyone else as well.

«Another thing,» Leana suddenly spoke, as if a thought had suddenly came to her mind, «who is that “Britney” you mentioned earlier? Is she a goddess from your world?» she innocently questioned, but you couldn’t help but find yourself laughing at the absurdity of the situation you got yourself in.

«More or less.» you admitted, and she seemed content with the answer.

The day had eventually fallen back into the same routine rather quickly, making you realize that this kind of situations weren’t that uncommon; however, every now and then some of the pirates would greet you, thanking you for saving their life before going on with their day.

«Excuse me, princess,» an unfamiliar voice called out, and you immediately turned your head. One of the pirates was standing not so far from you; he was definitely older than you, even if despite his youthful appearance his beard and his hair was almost completely grey. He hesitantly outstretched his hand towards you, and you curiously examined the small necklace in the palm of his hand. It was definitely plain looking, a thin looking chord with a too much familiar charm attached to it; without thinking, you took a step forward to take a better look.

Turns out – for the second time that day, that you weren’t hallucinating things: the small charm was indeed a piece of fabric from your clothes, now neatly braided together as to form a tiny charm.

«My old man was a tailor, so I learned a thing or two from him,» you patiently glanced at him, waiting for him to explain himself further as you glanced back and forth from his face to his hand, «I ended up making a talisman for everyone out of the fabric you gave us, since the Captain and Leana explained to us what you did fpr us,» you kept silent, not understanding why he was handing one to you as well, «I know you don’t need one, but we want you to have one as well.»

«“We”?» you echoed; glancing around, you noticed that few other pirates were definitely pretending to do their chores just to curiously overlook the situation, wondering what your reaction might have been.

«It’s a way to tell you that you’re in the crew,» Leana excitedly spoke, appearing out of nowhere and hugging your shoulder, «you saved a whole lot of pirates, you know what it means? You’re a pirate, love.»

«What?» you questioned, hesitantly reaching out to grab the necklace from the pirate’s outstretched hand, who thanked you for accepting his humble gift.

“Holy shit, I’m the hero of the day,” you thought, trying to process the fact that a pirate had just thanked you for accepting a necklace made out of clothes from another dimension.

«For your information,» Felix’s sudden deep voice made you turn around in surprise, since the new information had made your head spin, «it was a unanimous decision.» he clarified; as you happened to lock gaze with Minho, he simply winked at you with a mischievous smile, and you could swear that for the first time, you felt the butterflies in your stomach do somersaults.

The secret escapades you occasionally had with Minho during the night ended up being a habit, and as the weather started to become colder, you eventually decided to move things to your room; more than once, you and Minho ended up falling asleep after nights spent talking about the most various topics and every time, Minho would wake up before dawn just to sneak back to his room.

«Do you still think I’m a lunatic siren?» you quietly mumbled one night, quite scared of the possible affirmative answer. Minho was sitting opposite of you on your bed, your knees almost brushing against each other’s.

«I don’t.» Minho honestly answered after what seemed to be an eternal silence; he was still staring at you with an indecipherable gaze that made you feel extremely small, but it was significantly softer now. You were certain that something in your relationship with Minho had drastically changed since the night he found you crying alone, and somehow, even if you didn’t want to be seen in such a vulnerable state, you were happy he was the one who found you nonetheless.

Above all – most importantly, since Minho’s behaviour towards you had changed and gradually started to become softer, you could swear you felt your feelings drift towards him at a slow but steady speed. To state the obvious, he was handsome, and you often found yourself looking at him as he was talking with the others on deck, the wind blowing through his hair and his clothes making him look like a runaway Prince from a fairytale; he was also funny and an extremely good listener, and the more you spent time together, the more your heart would fill with feelings for him, just like a slow tide at noon.

«Do you believe me, then?» you mumbled, as if you were trying your luck; despite you told everyone that you came from another dimension, the topic of your conversations with Minho were a secret, and he was completely aware about that. Even though you desperately wanted him to believe your words, you couldn’t help but trying to imagine how you would react if you were in Minho’s shoes and of course, you had to admit that you would have your good doses of suspicions as well.

«I’m not really sure I can understand everything you tell me,» he admitted, «but I really want to try.» you found yourself genuinely smiling at his words.

A comfortable silence fell once again, and you searched for Minho’s eyes in the partial darkness of the place; three small candles were lightning up the room, creating an intimate atmosphere while allowing you to see each other just enough. «Thank you, Min Min.» you quietly mumbled, now definitely trying your luck; you knew that the only person allowed to call him like that was Felix, and although your relationship was completely different from how it started, you were certain that he would admonish you, telling you not to call him like that.

However, Minho’s reaction was definitely unexpected; his eyes met yours in less than a second, and despite the little lighting in the room, you could clearly see a sudden blush adorning both his cheeks and the tip of his ears.

«Wait, did you just…? No, nevermind,» Minho quickly dismissed, his unexpected flustered state was more than enough to make your cheeks flare up as well, «let’s suppose you ended up coming here from another dimension, why do you think it happened?» the conversation took another bittersweet turn, and you went back staring at your knees.

«I have no idea.» you confessed, disheartened, since you had wondered about that a concerning amount of times as well.

«Do you want to go back?» Minho questioned out of curiosity; he had immediately noticed how you eventually managed to find your place among the crew, and how you got along with everyone.

«I can’t even explain how much I want to.» you admitted, and before you could actually realize it, tears had started to escape your eyes.

«Hey, don’t cry, I’m sorry I brought that up,» Minho seemed to move towards you as if he had been hurt by a sudden static, «I didn’t want to make you cry.» he mumbled again, wiping your tears away as gently as he could, touching you as if you were made of frail glass despite his usual roughness. Eventually, he placed your pillow over his lap and you let him adjust your position enough that you could lay your head over it.

Minho kept gently stroking your hair with clumsy yet gentle movements – clearly unfamiliar with intimacy, lulling you to sleep while mumbling that «it’s okay, I’ll help you find a way,» or even «don’t cry, pretty princess, you’re safe now.»

That night was the first time that you and Minho willingly got so close physically, and you never expected for his touch to feel as comforting as it did; although you had stopped crying few minutes after you were laying on his lap, you didn’t want for that interaction to stop, and therefore you laid there, greedily taking all the unexpected affection Minho was showering you with.

Two days later, you were officially touching land; two days later, you were completely certain about the fact that you had shifted dimension – since there was a tiny part of your heart that still hoped you were having a really weird dream.

The port was large and full of people busy working; you looked around in amazement admiring everything: the small stalls of the market a little further on, people’s clothes, the type of architecture of the houses… However, something didn’t add up once again. There were various wooden signs hanging on the stalls, price indicators or more simply indicators of what could be found in each one of them, and despite the fact that the alphabet was a strange combination o weird symbols you’ve never seen in your life, you could understand them; fabrics, groceries, swords, you could read everything, was it another special ability you gained while shifting? “This is crazy,” you thought as you kept looking around yourself, “it’s like I chosen a default language in a videogame.”

Minho seemed to have noticed the puzzled expression on your face as you were glancing around, and quickly got to your side. «Not like it’s important for us, but can you read and write?» he questioned, watching as you hesitantly nodded at him.

«I’m not sure about the writing part,» you answered, looking around and not quite believing your eyes, «but it turns out I can read!»

«That’s good,» Minho’s sudden gentle smile made you feel incredibly flustered, and you shortly played with your fingertips since you didn’t know what you were supposed to answer, «I’ll see you tonight, then.» he added, making you furrow your eyebrows.

Before you could question his words, Leana and Chris had joined you, the latter informing you that he had already booked a carriage for both you and Leana.

“That’s it? They’re going to leave me here?” you met Minho’s gaze, just to switch it quickly towards Leana, who had reached out to hold your hand, gently tugging you towards her.

«I believe someone forgot to tell you,» she said, admonishing Minho with a stern gaze, «O’draxxia, the Capital, is a city in which men cannot enter, meaning that we have all the day for ourselves!»

The carriage ride lasted a little more than an hour, and both you and Leana kept staring out of the window, amazed by the scenery surrounding the two of you; it was the first time for Leana as well to venture into O’dyllita, and just like you, she was overly excited to finally visit O’draxxia, since she had often heard about it.

«From what I know, almost everyone in the city is a priestess,» she had explained, the two of you never looking at each other since your attention was completely engrossed towards opposite directions, «and they say the library is so huge that there are pillars as big as towers that are used as bookshelves!»

Despite the dense and rich vegetation, the landscape seemed to have a tremendously lonely air; in the distance you could see ruins of old structures that looked like castles or fortresses, clearly uninhabited and reclaimed by vegetation. Overall, the landscape almost seemed fiabesque, even if you couldn’t glimpse a trace of a living soul for kilometres. Just as Leana had said, O’draxxia was entirely populated by women, and all of them looked mesmerizing and stunning; some of them greeted you and Leana with a court nod, just like they did with the other women that were visiting the city. Despite the fact that the city was populated and animated by the priestesses and occasional tourists, the city gave you a serene yet lonely feeling. The houses were simple and elegant, made of grey bricks with bright green plants growing along the walls, covering some parts with elegant red and orange flowers. Both you and Leana followed one of the priestess’ indications to reach the library, as the two of you kept glancing around in utter wonder as you were walking.

«I’m really glad we get along,» Leana spoke out of the blue as you were strolling around town, headed towards the library, interlocking her arm with yours; you sent her a glance, only to start once again to focus on the unfamiliar scenery in front of your eyes, «we tried to let other girls on our ship, but it didn’t end well.»

«Why not?» you questioned out of curiosity, your gaze still focused on the unfamiliar flowers decorating the streets; the novel you’ve read ended as soon as Chris and Leana got their happy ending, so her words were definitely something you didn’t know about.

«They ended up liking Chris a little bit too much, and you know…» the innocent smile on Leana’s lips was a stark contrast to the gesture she made: she ran her index finger over her neck horizontally, and you suddenly widened your eyes, gulping nervously.

«You… did you kill them?» you whispered, only for her ears to hear, not quite knowing how to feel about it.

«And threw them in the sea,» she proudly clarified with a wink, «for all I know, they could be the sirens that attacked us.» her tone was as nonchalant as if she was talking about the weather, and you furrowed your eyebrows, familiar with what she was implying, since you clearly recalled the author mentioning it once.

Apparently, mermaids – or mostly known as sirens, were the women thrown off ships because of the common belief about “having a woman on boat brings bad luck”, and therefore, as those poor women sank to the bottom of the sea, they committed themselves to their rage and their desire of revenge. You clearly remember how that paragraph made you quite uncomfortable, empathizing with those women as they rightfully wanted to take revenge on the people that killed them without reason. Moreover, the author described how they started to change underwater, their lungs adapting to the water until they could breathe and their tied legs eventually became a tail over time. They drowned sailors and pirates in revenge, but especially, they seem to target the crew that did them wrong, until they could see the remaining of their ships at the bottom of the sea.

All of a sudden, one of your first conversations with Leana came to your mind. «So, what do you think about Chris?» she had questioned with an earnest smile, the both of you sitting on deck as you watched him ordering the others around.

«He’s awesome,» you immediately answered, excitedly, «Felix told me he’s in charge of each route of the whole sea, and he’s basically around my age. He’s really awesome for that!» you had excitedly explained, avoiding to mention too intricate details you read in the novel.

«He really is, don’t steal him from me though!» she had laughed back then, gently nudging your shoulders with hers in an almost friendly gesture.

«I wouldn’t dare,» you immediately scoffed, «you’re basically the perfect match! moreover, he’s not really my type.»

Only now you realized all the things that could have gone so incredibly wrong if your interaction had gone wrong back then, and you glanced at her once again. Leana was now gazing around the town in amazement, since you knew that she had never been here as well; you instinctively scoffed a laugh, to thing that you believed Minho was the biggest threat among the crew.

Not to mention that the surprises were definitely not over; shortly after, Leana asked you if you believed in soulmates.

«I think I do,» you confessed; it was definitely one of your favourite genres to read about, but you couldn’t admit that to her, «why?»

«I’ve been thinking about it lately, but I never had anyone to talk about it…» she admitted.

“I wonder why,” you silently commented, but kept silent.

«Sometimes I have the feeling that me and Chris were meant to be, you know?» she fondly smiled, her gaze lost somewhere in the scenery around the two of you as she was probably recalling one of the various memories she had created with her husband; you were about to answer something encouraging and motivational, when her next words definitely made your voice die in your throat. «I mean, I didn’t even like Chris when he brought me on the ship, let alone if I could imagine myself falling in love with him or even marrying him.» she admitted, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Wait a fucking minute now,”

«What?» you asked in complete disbelief. Once again, you perfectly recalled you read that Chris and Leana were in love before she got romantically and dramatically stolen away from him; to be precise, Leana was engaged to another man, who she didn’t love.

However, Leana was standing in front of you, telling you a completely different part of the story, making you question if the things you’ve read on your couch were correct in the first place.

«I was engaged with an officer of the navy, and I loathed pirates at first; I accepted to go with Chris because I agreed with my fiancée that I would have made Chris vulnerable in some way.» Leana hesitantly confessed, and you couldn’t bring yourself to find an actual reply, «in the end I fell for him little by little, to the point where I couldn’t imagine my life without him.»

“What the hell,” you thought; you had stopped walking altogether, and were simply standing still in silence, a whirlwind of thoughts floating around your head as you were staring at Leana. You never read something like this in the book, but if we had to be honest, the book was following Chris’ point of view, but again, by the way Leana was described, she was meant to be the typical damsel in distress that runs away from an unhappy relationship to find her love.

However, in front of you stood Leana, a damsel that was very not in distress, a damsel who had a concerning series of murders weighting on her shoulders, whose original plan was to serve Chris’ head to the navy.

«I’m glad you married him,» you ended up blurting out, «you look really cute together.» Leana loudly laughed at your unexpected comment, and as the two of you started walking again, she hugged your arm a little closer to her side.

«Wanna know who’s cute?» her teasing tone made you sigh out of reflex, not sure whether you wanted to know the answer to her question, «You and Min Min.» she chanted, making you whine as an answer.

«I don’t like him like that, let’s just – let’s talk about it another time, okay?» you pleaded, hoping that she would fall for your suggestion so that you could keep avoiding the topic forever.

The moment you stepped in front of the library’s entrance, you couldn’t believe your eyes: it was as if a huge castle had been redecorated just to serve a new and better purpose. Leana didn’t lie when she said about the pillars being huge, and the more you ventured in, the more you felt overwhelmed; you loved books, and for a second, you thought that you could become a priestess just to have a chance to read every single book you could see, even if it would have took literally a lifetime. In the end, you ended up asking to a priestess for help, since you would have taken at least a whole day in order to find some useful information without asking for help.

«Books about teleportation?» the priestess had repeated your words, as if making sure she heard you loud and clear; you hesitantly nodded, feeling incredibly small under her gaze; she eventually nodded at the two of you, asking to follow her. Needless to say, you ended up walking your way on the stairs around one of the pillars, just to reach the highest bookshelf.

«It’s been a while since someone asked for that,» she said, trying to make conversation with the two of you, but only Leana was answering her various questions, since you were way too nervous to speak. As you reached the bookshelf, your shoulders immediately lowered in deject; there were only four books about teleportation, but no one of them were like the one you brought.

«Sadly, we only have these ones.» the priestess excused herself, quickly taking notice of your saddened expression; you immediately tried to smile, shaking your head and answering that it was okay.

«Are you sure you’re okay?» Leana whispered to you, as soon as the priestess begun to walk down the stairs on her own and was now out of sight; your gaze was still on the books, which you eventually tried to examine.

What if the cover was different because you were in a different dimension? However, as your fingers leafed through the pages, you couldn’t understand your feelings; you almost seemed happy about the fact that your task had failed, as if what you really wanted was to remain into this world.

«I am,» you nodded, seeing Leana’s concern vanish from her features, «I really am.»

The fact that your mission had failed meant only one thing: you and Leana were free to curiously look around as you pleased, and that’s exactly what you did. At the end of the day, once you were back in the carriage, you could swear you almost had a headache due to all the informations the both of you had tried to assimilate in your brain.

«What was that one again? Flat parsley and saffron?» she mumbled, massaging the side of her head.

«This planet is not flat was the first part,» you tiredly answered, mimicking her actions, «I don’t know where you got the parsley and saffron thing from.»

«It was the recipes book I wanted to steal.» she urged, trying to give you another hint, as if you hadn’t read an infinite quantitative of books within few hours.

«Oh, that one,» you hummed, recalling the moment where Leana had tried to see if the recipes book would fit under her shirt, saying that Felix would have loved it, «it was the recipe of saffron rice… There was no parsley, though.»

When you got off the carriage, Minho and Chris exchanged a quizzical glance as they saw the two of you look exhausted; both of you were dragging your feet towards them, talking with a flat tone about how amazing your day had been.

«Found anything?» Minho questioned, ignoring how his heart was beating in a silent hope that you didn’t manage to find the book you were looking for; you kept walking, silently shaking your head. Minho didn’t say anything as he walked up next to you; the pirate breathed a soft sigh, swinging his arm around your shoulders and instinctively you hugged his waist, leaning your head towards his shoulder.

«You’ll find it.» you heard Minho’s reassuring tone, and you shrugged in a silent answer.

“I think it will be okay, even if I don’t.” you secretly thought, glancing at the pirate walking next to you.

Out of your sight, Chris and Leana were glancing both at you and Minho, before looking at each other.

«Am I hallucinating?» Chris questioned his wife; he knew that things between you and the pirate had improved, but he didn’t imagine they had improved that much.

«I think we’ll be celebrating another marriage soon.» Leana sighed, fondly smiling at the two of you. «“I don’t like Minho”, my ass.» she scoffed, mumbling to herself as an amused smirk erupted on her lips, recalling the moment you denied liking the pirate.

That night, you found out that Chris not only owned every single soul sailing above the sea, he also owned few taverns scattered around the land as well.

You and the others had ended up in the courtyard of a local tavern – the Bitter Dahlia, the musicians animatedly creating a joyful atmosphere as few people had eventually started to dance. You had let yourself convince to try a whole lot different kind of drinks by Hyunjin, and now you were tipsily strolling around the courtyard with a pint of beer in your hand, and thankfully, Minho had easily noticed it; that’s why as soon as you walked past him in order to find Felix, he reached out, placing his hand on your right shoulder and tugging you close to his body, your back pressed against his chest. You didn’t realize it was Minho at first, you simply pouted because someone was stopping you all of a sudden; when you decided to find out who was attached to the arm blocking your path you giggled as soon as you saw Minho’s face, and let him pull you closer to him.

Minho didn’t say anything, and neither did you – nor did you move away in the first place.

«I think you drank too much, princess,» his hoarse voice – probably affected by the drinks he had, spoke right against your ear, and you instinctively crossed your ankles just to press your thighs together; you let him take the pint of beer from your hand, his arm eventually found his way around your waist, and he leaned his chin on your shoulder.

«Felix!» you giggled, catching a hold of the boy’s forearm as soon as you saw him walk by, tugging him towards both you and Minho, «Look at them,» you excitedly spoke, «look at them!» you urged again, giggling excitedly as you obviously forgot that Minho was right behind you and therefore he could hear everything.

Even if he was in a worse state than you were, it didn’t take a genius for Felix to understand who you were talking about, and he followed your glance towards the small group of couples that were dancing; of course Chris and Leana were there, and of course you and Felix had felt the need to talk about how wonderful and amazing they looked.

«They’re both stumbling on their feet,» Minho had stated from behind you, holding your waist a little firmer, and you suddenly reminded that he had been unconsciously made part of your secret conversations with Felix, «they’re really drunk, like – three sheets to the wind drunk.» he clarified, amused with your behaviour.

«You don’t understand,» you quickly answered, your hand flying on top of the one the pirate had placed on your hip, «look at -» your voice vanished from your throat as soon as you turned your head towards him, and instead, your heart picked up pace at a concerning speed; Minho’s face was millimetres from yours, his gaze burning into yours, «them.» you eventually finished, your voice barely above a whisper. You and Minho had already been close enough to kiss once, but to say that the situation was completely different would be an understatement.

If back then neither you nor Minho would have considered the option to kiss the other – let alone being attracted to each other, to this day things had drastically changed. Even if you blamed it on the alcohol, you were very much aware about the fact that you would have loved to kiss him; the fact that Minho’s gaze kept shifting between your eyes and your lips clearly told you that your desire was reciprocated.

“If this was a movie we would make out while Céline Dion was singing her heart out in the background,” you drunkenly thought, “and all I get is drunk bards play the tarantella”.

«Well, this is something unexpected!» Jisung’s loud voice made you and Minho immediately turn your head towards him, and much to your embarrassment, he wasn’t alone; of course Changbin and Hyunjin were with him.

«She’s tipsy, I didn’t want her to fall over.» Minho had immediately answered, his voice a little bit too defensive if you were to ask Hyunjin, who carefully – and drunkenly, studied his expression with a sly smirk.

«And the empty chair next to you was claimed by a ghost?» Jisung questioned the pirate, who rolled his eyes without answering.

However, the worst still had to happen, because in that very moment, Leana seemed to appear out of thin air, as if she had magically listened to the conversation while she was dancing with her husband.

«You didn’t hear it from me,» Leana loudly announced as if you and Minho weren’t there, «but when we returned from O’draxxia, Minho straight up hugged her.» You felt Minho bury his forehead in the crook of your neck, and you shortly met Felix’s gaze, who was looking at you with a drunk dazed smile: «We better talk about this!» he said.

«And, he also kissed her forehead.» Leana lied, getting drunk shouts of surprise from your friends, and you knew that as soon as you got back on the ship, you and Minho would become the most interesting topic among the crew.

«Want to scoot over?» Minho spoke against your ear once again, and you found your mind drifting towards unholy thoughts before you could stop yourself; his question was sincere, and as he voiced it, he started to move his arm away from your hip. However, you didn’t bother to voice an answer; since your hand was still placed above his, you pushed it more firmly against your hip, purposely intertwining your fingers together.

As you felt Minho’s lips hovering above the exposed skin of your shoulder in a barely perceptible kiss, you could swear that all the noise coming from the loud party around the two of you had been ignored from your brain.

Back on the Golden Fleece, everything seemed to have fallen back to the usual routine, with the only addiction that your friends had decided to constantly tease you and Minho about your almost kiss.

Of course, even if three days had passed since that night and Minho had visited your bedroom as always, no one dared to approach the topic, and you kept dancing on your tiptoes around each other. However, what’s a princess without a fairy godmother?

That evening, right after dinner, Felix had bursted into your room unannounced, somewhat expecting Leana’s presence as well; the two of them were casually sitting on your bed, ignoring the fact that you were curled up under the covers, refusing to get out and face them.

«Well?» Felix urged, lowering the blanket just to expose your face; you hissed like a stray cat, but you quickly understood that neither of them was going to leave without an answer to the same question.

«I don’t have anything to say,» you stubbornly said, and you heard Leana snort.

«Okay, we’ll go first:» she spoke, leaning towards you, «I was drunk but I sure do have eyes, girl.» she spoke with an alluring tone, and you tried to roll over the opposite side in order not to hear her, «and my eyes are telling me that you like Minho, and Minho likes you.» choosing to groan instead of answer, Felix saw an opportunity to chime in.

«You were still dancing when it happened, but they almost kissed – like, kissed.» Felix added, empathizing the last part of his sentence, and Leana almost shrieked in disbelief, her offended voice questioning why you didn’t tell her such an important and fundamental detail.

«Did you tell him?» Felix questioned, just to add the question you didn’t dare to ask yourself, «Oh… Do you still want to go back home?» You eventually threw the blanket off your face hearing that, meeting your friends’ eyes as your face was filled with unsure doubt; you never thought it would have happened, but you had to admit to yourself that you were happy. You had friends, you felt accepted, and you managed to have fun thanks to your friends, who cherished you. Moreover…

«I don’t really want to hurt your feelings,» Leana suddenly spoke, interrupting your thoughts, «but when we were in O’draxxia and you didn’t find the book, you almost looked… relieved.» your gaze met, and you realized you had a problem: your heart was clearly telling that you wanted to stay there, in that absurd world you’ve read about one random afternoon.

When you met Felix’s gaze, you realized you had another problem, maybe a bigger one than the previous one: you liked Minho. Well, of course you already knew that, since he was your favourite character of the novel; however, liking the real Minho, the one daily standing in front of you, the one who went from threatening to throw you overboard to gently caress your hair until you fell asleep was a different kind of thing.

«I think I need a second.» you admitted with a sigh, staring at the wooden tiles on the ceiling,

“Let’s suppose I like him,” you thought, “I don’t think he actually likes me, he was probably tipsy,” you bit the inner part of your cheek, “what if he likes me and I like him and I find the book?” you scratched the back of your neck out of frustration, ignoring the fact that you wanted to scream, “what do I do?”

«Well, you could start with a simple “I think I have feelings for you and I don’t think I want to go back any longer”» Felix gently suggested, and as your gaze flew towards his, you realized that you had been unconsciously voicing your thoughts all along.

The same moment Felix was heading towards your room, Minho was heading towards the dining room, knowing that he would have found what he was looking for. The heavy smell of smoke and alcohol filled his nostrils, as he approached his friends’ table quietly.

«Loverboy decided to ditch his girl to embrace his old habits?» Chris glanced at him, quirking an eyebrow with a mischievous smile.

«I’m coming here in spite of myself, but I… have to.» Minho spoke in a dramatic tone that made Chris snort, waiting for his friend to tell them what was going through his mind, «I think I might like her.»

«We knew it already,» Hyunjin replied with no interest, his eyes still glued on his cards, admonishing Jisung because he was trying to sneak some of the coins off the table and inside his sleeve; Minho stared at his friend with stupor, but Hyunjin seemed too focused on their match to pay attention to his friend.

«"Like her" as in, “I want to hold your hand under the moonlight”,» Changbin – the only one beside Chris who was listening to Minho, suggested, «or “I want to ravish you until you can’t stand”?»

Minho didn’t answer immediately, choosing to think about it for a while, even if he didn’t really have to; he undoubtedly found you attractive, and over time, he found himself slowly getting incredibly soft for you, to the point where he would glance around at random moments of the day just to see what you were doing.

The more Minho’s silence went on, the more his friends had gradually stopped focusing on their match in order to look at him with curiosity and malice, enjoying how the pirate’s face gradually got flustered.

«As in… both.» Minho confessed, making his friends hum and mumble in acknowledgement.

«Ah! … Well, we knew that already.» Hyunjin replied again, his sharp gaze once again back to the table in front of them.

«What do you mean?» Minho asked quizzically, since it was the second time his friend had mentioned it.

«Yeah, well, remember when Jisung was teaching her the basic of self defence?» Seungmin – who had kept silent until then, asked making Minho immediately nod, how could he forget that day? Jisung had been trying to teach you a few simple movements for what seemed to be hours, but in the end, you kept doing stupid and predictable mistakes because you seemed to be too tense to use a dagger – let alone a sword.

«Leave it, Han, she’ll end up stabbing herself by mistake.» he had told his friend with an arrogant tone, and he clearly remembered the flustered expression on your face. As always, you tried to fight back, but this time it was a little bit different; that’s how you ended up chasing Minho through the deck while screaming «I’ll fucking kill you, I swear!» until Changbin decided to stop you by stopping you mid run.

«What about it?» Minho asked again, not understanding what his friend wanted to imply.

«Felix and few other saw you laughing,» Seungmin added, «therefore, it was just a matter of time.»

Minho placed his elbow on the table and roughly massaged the bridge of his nose, trying to analyse the situation he was in: he liked you, but what happened few nights ago was just a result of the both of you being tipsy, and moreover, he knew that you wanted to go back home. What was he supposed to do?

«I’m not an expert, but try with a simple “I like you, please stay here with me”.» Jisung had spoken as if he could read his thoughts; only then Minho realized that he had never been silent in the first place.

Minho had eventually joined you in your bedroom few hours after Felix and Leana had left, even if you had already stated that he either fell asleep or he was spending the night gambling with the others. You seemed to miss his presence more than you usually did, especially because that night you were freezing: no matter how many blankets you were laying under, you just didn’t seem to warm up.

“It wouldn’t be punk rock for me to die like this,” you thought, breathing in your joined fists as you tried to ignore the constant shivers of your body.

A familiar knock on the door caught your attention, and as soon as you recognized Minho’s voice whispering his greetings, you had to physically stop yourself from asking him to join you under the covers so that he could warm you up.

Unlike you, Minho didn’t seem to mind the cold that much, but nonetheless he quickly walked up to you, pressing the palm of his hand to your forehead just in case you had a fever.

«I’m genuinely wondering how the hell you manage to live like this.» you broke the silence, your jaw trembling because of the sheer cold; although you tried not to think to the accommodation of your original life, your mind couldn’t help but wander to your beloved electric heater, your faithful companions during winter.

«You just ... get used to it?» Minho questioned back, not really able to give you an actual answer; of course, during the first years he spent sailing he was in the same situation as you – everyone had, but he eventually got used to it. Minho sat on the edge of your bed, mindlessly running his fingertips through your hair – a simple yet intimate gesture he had come to love.

«I can hear flowers blooming in that flower field,» he smugly commented the fact that you were keeping silent, and you clicked your tongue, asking what he meant, «what did you use in your world to keep warm?» he curiously questioned, and your heart soared at the realization that he was honestly and genuinely interested in your stories.

However, you were too cold for your brain to function properly, and you ended up talking about the concept of the electric heating in a very confusing way; nonetheless, Minho didn’t seem to mind you words, for his concern had increasingly risen.

«Hey,» the pirate interrupted your explanation, «are you sure you don’t want another blanket?» despite the fact that you were doing your best, he still noticed the occasional shivers and clattering of your teeth as soon as you stopped speaking.

«It’s okay,» you reassured him, «I used all the blankets Leana gave me… I’ll warm up eventually.» you answered hopefully, but Minho didn’t answer immediately; instead, he reached out, shortly enveloping your hand with his just to comment that it was as if you had stuck your hand into ice.

«Come here,» Minho said, stretching over your legs and fully sitting on your bed with his back against the wall, widening his legs so that he could form a space for you to sit in; you kept still in amazed astonishment, not quite trusting your thoughts on the hypothesis that Minho wanted to cuddle.

«Are you gonna kill me?» you blurted out, for your frozen brain decided it was the most likely solution.

«Quit that, princess,» he clicked his tongue, urging you to come closer, «you know we’re past that.» folding all your blankets around your shape, you slowly crawled in the space he made for you, trying not to lose the small amount of warmth you had created; you immediately tensed up, sitting straight and clutching the blankets closer to your body.

Since the night you almost kissed, you had never been so close to Minho, and for some reason, it was enough for your heart to pick up pace as if it was begging you to set it free through your ribcage.

«Come here,» the pirate repeated, his voice a little gentler – a little softer, and you found yourself leaning against his torso. Unlike you, Minho wasn’t using a blanket to keep himself warm and therefore he could move his arms freely; of course he used them to loosely cage you in his hold.

Although you had to admit that the position you were in definitely looked kind of weird, it was extremely comfortable; Minho’s steady breathing was slowly calming your nerves as well, and you found yourself relaxing in his hold.

«Do you want some of my blankets?» you mumbled quietly, embarrassed about the fact that you didn’t ask sooner.

«I’m good.» Minho answered immediately, gently repeating that you should try to sleep.

Despite the fact that you were comfortable, despite Minho’s presence, despite the fact that you were slowly warming up, sleep was definitely your last priority. The pirate’s nose brushed against your forehead as he was trying to adjust his position to get more comfortable, and you quickly noticed that his skin was cold as well.

«Minho,» you called out again few minutes later; the pirate hummed, and you took it at a silent question to go on, «can we please share blankets?»

«Why?» he chuckled at your distress, and you could feel his soft breath in the side of your face. «You look cold,» you tried to justify yourself, «I have a lot of blankets, we can share.» you insisted.

Minho eventually gave up, and the both of you ended up shifting from your original position; however, this meant that your arms were touching as you were now laying next to each other, and there wasn’t a blanket you could use as an invisible barrier anymore.

Under the sea of sheets, Minho’s right arm snaked under your neck, pulling you to his body; as if you were magnets, you followed his lead, laying on your side and hugging his waist, resting your head in the crook of his neck, nuzzling as close as you could. Your nose was right against Minho’s neck, and you could almost feel the goosebumps he had whenever you breathed; you ended up blaming it on the cold temperature, since you were fond of keeping your mental sanity and you were madly trying to distract yourself from thinking about other ways to share body heat.

«You know, once we got stuck in the middle of an iced part of the sea,» Minho mumbled, talking about one of his adventures as if he was trying to prevent his mind from wandering towards the same sinful thoughts you were trying to avoid.

«What?» you hummed, too tired to try remembering if you read about it in the novel, «How did you get out of there?»

«Ropes,» was his immediate answer, «we ended up pulling on the rope until we could break the ice.»

«Like that “Vikings” episode,» you giggled to yourself in a tired voice; Minho had immediately questioned you about it, and you tried to explain to him what movies and TV shows were.

However, you were obliviously fighting falling asleep, reason why Minho ended up gently shutting you up with a gentle and earnest: «you’ll tell me about it tomorrow.»

As always you fell asleep first, but this time, when Minho moved you so that you could lay on your bed to sleep more comfortably and he could walk back to his room, you weakly grabbed his hand in your sleep.

«I get lonely if you’re not here.» you mumbled, still lost in dreamland. Minho was thankful to the lights being completely off and to you being asleep because the expression on his face was priceless: he was incredibly flustered, his blush was flaring up both his cheeks and the tip of his ears. That night, Minho slept next to you for the first time, and as you randomly woke up in the middle of the night, you found him laying next to you under the sea of blankets; you instinctively snuggled closer to his chest, only to realize that you were partially laying on top of his firm chest. Not wanting to disturb his sleep, you tried to scoot away as quietly as you could in order not to wake him up, just to lay next to him.

However, that was your initial plan, since you soon found out that Minho was indeed a light sleeper; the arm he kept around your waist had tightened out of reflex, harshly pulling you in your original position once again.

«Where do you think you’re going, princess?» he murmured, his voice still groggy due to sleep.

«I, uhm…» you hesitated, your brain was clearly too sleepy to come up with a clever and witty answer. Minho didn’t wait for you to find your words, though; keeping you close to his body, he gently rolled you on your back, partially draping his body over yours instead.

«Go back to sleep,» he murmured again, easing his left leg between yours, and nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck.

“He’s a cuddler?” you wondered in pleased surprise; your hand eventually ended up in his hair, running your fingertips trough it and trying to lull him back to sleep.

However, Minho found it impossible to fall asleep again, judging your wild heartbeat hammering right under his ear; he glanced up towards the small window in your room, and quickly deduced that it was still the middle of the night, meaning that you didn’t get to sleep much in the first place.

If at first he had tried to lull you back to sleep while caressing your hip in a loving manner, he quickly realized that his touch had quite the opposite effect on you; he also had to admit that the sudden proximity of your body and the position that you were in was making him significantly riled up as well.

«Can’t sleep?» he asked, shortly rubbing his eyes with his fingertips in order to get rid of sleep as fast as he could, deciding that you didn’t have to stay awake on your own; you settled for humming affirmatively at his question, and Minho effortlessly pushed himself up, partially balancing his weight on his right elbow so that he his face was hovering above yours. Due to the change of position, his thigh was firmly pressed between your legs, and you forced yourself to swallow a whimper as his knee slightly dipped in the mattress.

Despite the poor lightning, you could feel his gaze on your features, as if he was trying to see through the darkness; you were clearly trying to do the same, and another silence fell as the Golden Fleece was constantly rocking your body while gently following the rhythm of the night sea.

«Do you think the flowers growing in your head are contagious?» Minho blurted out all of a sudden, his left hand mindlessly running up your side in a gentle yet firm touch, «I think I might go back on my thoughts of you not being a siren.» he quietly added; you didn’t answer – your senses about to go overdrive due to all the different kind of constant stimulation added to the comfortable warmth of his body, settling for humming yet again, silently asking him to go on.

Minho ran his left hand from your side to your neck, and eventually started to run his fingertip over your features, delicately brushing over your skin ever so lightly, touching you as if you were some precious treasure he unexpectedly found in the middle of the sea.

«You have completely driven me mad,» Minho confessed with an earnest voice, his fingertips brushing over your cheekbones, «with affection,» he added, his touch brushing over the bow on your upper lip, «with desire,» you found yourself weakly gripping at the front his shirt as soon as you heard his hoarse voice overflowing with the feelings he was talking about, «to the point where I know I should want you to be happy, but I keep wanting – I keep craving, that you could find your happiness with me.» Minho’s confession made your head spin; you wanted to answer that his feelings were completely reciprocated, answer that you didn’t found happiness with Minho – you found a home. However, your voice died in your throat as soon as the pirate had leaned in, his lips hovering barely above yours, yet almost constantly brushing together due to the ship’s movement.

«I am completely enamoured of everything about you,» Minho had whispered then, making you suddenly tighten the loose grip you had on his shirt to the point that the necklace he had been wearing since they day you saved the crew from the sirens’ had fallen out of the collar, now dangling between your bodies, «your body, your personality, the crazy flower field in your head, princess, I – I don’t want you to go back.»

Your heart was overflowing with a different mix of feelings, but the happiness of your feelings being reciprocated seemed to prevail. «I stopped wanting to go back since me and Leana returned from O'draxxia.» was what you admitted out loud, your voice trembling due to all the sudden emotions that were almost setting your soul on fire.

Only then you leaned in – trusting your body more then your words, capturing the pirate’s lips in a timid first kiss, filling it with all the love you felt for the pirate. Minho returned your gesture immediately, kissing your lips slowly, tentatively, over and over again as he was trying to savour you, shortly kissing your lips just to drift his attention elsewhere and kissing your cheek, your nose, your chin, as if he was trying not to lose himself to the lust he was feeling. The kiss had eventually started to heathen when Minho leaned in to kiss you, just for you to run your fingertips through his hair and harshly closing your hand in a fist against his nape, tugging him closer to you and preventing him from running away, so that you could delicately running your tongue on his lower lip.

Minho’s kisses started to get less cherishing and more passionate, occasionally leaving a path of open mouthed kisses on your neck, his knee digging further in the mattress anytime he moved and creating the kind of friction you were honestly about to beg for. It was as if you were a small ship adrift caught up in a sudden storm; Minho kept worshipping your body and all you could do in that moment was to take, take and take, hoping that as soon as the storm had passed you wouldn’t have completely fallen into madness, wishing to stumble right in another one because you felt addicted to the rush of adrenaline. As your kisses grew hotter, so did your bodies and eventually, the sea of blankets you were covered with was progressively being scattered either on the floor or in a corner of your bed.

On deck, the sight of the sun about to rise in the distance was in stark contrast to the light drizzle that had started to fall, the sound of rain echoing on the wooden tiles and absorbing the faint noises of the pirates waking up for the morning shift; in your bedroom, Minho’s hair felt like gentle rain falling on your body everytime the pirate leaned down to kiss your skin as he was undressing you.

“Well, fuck,” you thought, admitting to yourself that Minho was definitely both a good and experienced lover. He had patiently took his sweet time to pay extreme attention to your body, studying how reacted to his different touches as if he was making up for all the lost time, occasionally showering you with praises as his head was nestled between your legs and he was lapping at your clit, making you quicklytumble on your first orgasm of the night. It had definitely been a long time since you had sex with someone, your boring routine had never actually given you an opportunity to meet new people – let alone think about a relationship, but you weren’t expecting Minho to act so smug about it.

As your bodies were finally connected,Minho had sneaked one arm under your waist while steadily moving his hips against yours, harshly pulling it upwards so that your back would be a little more arched and your naked bodies would be pressed together even more; once again, you were greedily taking everything Minho was giving you, helplessly running your fingernails on his back deep enough you would leave marks, beaming yourself in the feeling of his low moans and the goosebumps erupting on his skin out of reflex.

«Going dumb on me for this little action, princess?» Minho’s hoarse voice was filled with desire as he spoke, his hips gradually slowing until his movements came to a stop; you immediately whimpered loudly at the lack of friction, trying to move your hips in circles because you were desperately to create it on your own. You wanted to feel more, you wanted for that moment to never end. As you kept your movements slow and rhythmic – you had to admit that Minho still hoisting you up was doing half of the job, you grabbed the necklace sill dangling between the two of you with your left hand, harshly tugging it and therefore bringing Minho’s face closer to yours.

«Do you ever shut up?» you answered instead, the nails of your right hand – still gripping at his shoulders, were most definitely digging half moon shapes in his skin, and you felt proud of yourself for not ending up whimpering with need somewhere along your sentence; even if it was probably dawn already, you couldn’t see him clearly yet, but it didn’t take a wild guess for you to know that he was smirking at your words.

«I don’t know, do I?» he challenged, shortly capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, starting once again to move his hips to meet your movements.

«Ruin me, Minho,» you urged, keeping him close to you with your grip on the necklace, «I want to be yours,» you confessed then, your body slowly about to lose itself to the momentary euphoria of another orgasm, «I don’t want you to be anybody else’s but mine.»

«Do you think we can sleep in?» you mumbled, tired; you could both clearly hear that it was raining, and you desperately wished for your alone time with Minho to continue for few more hours; you were now laying in bed, lovingly cuddling in your post orgasm bliss.

«I’m on duty this morning,» Minho replied, caressing the bare skin of your shoulder, and admitting that he would have loved to spend the day like this; eventually, you and Minho woke up, washed up and got ready for your day.

Of course, during the day, the pirate had used any excuse to drive you in a corner of the Golden Fleece and kiss you as desperately as if it was your last time. Of course, you couldn’t escape a certain pair of eyes.

“Oh no, here they come, Sauron and Sauron jr.” you thought, chuckling to yourself as you saw Felix and Leana approaching with big and quick steps; you found it hard to contain your laughter, since they were lightly pushing and pulling each other as if both of them wanted to know first.

«Congratulations on the sex!» Leana had mischievously commented, and you immediately reached out to press your hand against her lips in a vain attempt to let everyone on the Golden Fleece know about your early morning activities, «you have hickeys everywhere.» you heard her mutter against your skin.

«Are you finally official?» Felix questioned, secretly happy to have you as a sister in law; you didn’t immediately reply, since you and Minho didn’t clarify it out loud.

However, as your gaze shortly wondered to your lover, who was continuously walking around on deck while changing his destination every now and then as he was trying to avoid Hyunjin’s Jisung’s and Changbin’s teasing – they were literally tailing him and occasionally trying to widen the collar of his shirt just to see «where do these scratches on your nape come from? Is there a stray cat on board or something?», you found yourself smiling gently at the sight.

«We are.» you confirmed, a smile on your face as you finally felt happy.

A month later, you and Minho were definitely official: he moved to your bedroom, and you managed to fit in your small bed nonetheless. You both spent your days doing your chores, and your nights enjoying your affection, either making love until you were exhausted or talking until you were on the verge to fall asleep.

Minho wanted to know everything about you, every single detail that you didn’t consider important, and you felt cherished, since you knew that no one had ever loved you like that. Actually, you wanted to know everything about Minho as well; although the author of the novel had paid enough attention to his character, there were a lot of things you didn’t know, and you found yourself listening to his stories, silently wishing that you were already in his company so that you could have experienced those memories together.

«You’re a pirate,» he had chuckled at your comment, «I’m sure you’ll get to experience your dose of adventures, too.» Minho was completely smitten with your presence, and so were you; slowly, you found yourself occasionally forgetting about your life before you had shifted into this dimension, admitting to both your lover and your friends that you didn’t want to find a way to go home any longer. Needless to say, they were all more than happy with your choice.

However, a month later, your destiny gave you an unexpected choice.

The Golden Fleece was now docked to a port for your usual restock of supplies, and as everyone was busy with their commissions, you and Minho decided to wander through the nearby marketplace, since everything about that world was new to you. You ended up buying a matching necklace, since the both of you were too scared to lose a ring in the middle of the sea, and you kept playing with it as you were strolling around, your fingers loosely intertwined together.

The marketplace was filled with the most random people, but what captured your attention was a small stall that seemed to be packed with books.

«I’ll check this out for a second.» you told Minho, who had simply nodded at you, answering that he was going to check out the stall right next to yours. As soon as you quickly approached it, a certain book seemed to catch your eye in a magnetic hold: it was relegated in leather, some golden details that recalled the title written in beautiful handwriting. Honestly, a small familiar detail was the one that caught your eye, making your heart rapidly hammer in your chest: a small golden stone embedded right under the title was quietly reflecting the sunlight.

Immediately, you found yourself fanning the pages with anxious fingers, and you couldn’t believe what you were reading; the book was talking about your life, the life you were leading before finding yourself in the novel you had been reading. What the hell was happening?

Quickly, you jumped to the end of the book to read the summary, and you felt as if you couldn’t breathe: it was a short novel about a girl – who coincidentally had both your name and worked exactly where you used to work, who spent her quiet life in a small home town, occasionally meeting her friends.

Of course, it sounded rather plain and boring, but the description was perfectly matching your life; anxiety was slowly clouding your emotions as you opened the book at a random page.

“«Cleo, don’t sit on the window sill!» the girl had yelled from the kitchen, worried about her cat’s habits.”

You closed the book immediately, recalling the scene a bit too vividly; your cat had the habit to sit on the window sill anytime it was open, therefore worrying you to death, and every time you ended up picking her up in order to give her some extra cuddles to refrain her from climbing there yet again.

A whirlwind of thoughts were occupying your head; if this book was talking about your life, that meant you could go back to your ordinary life and keep living your days as you used to.

Going back meant not having occasional nausea due to living on a ship and not risking to die of hypothermia; moreover, all of a sudden, you were definitely craving to eat some junk food.

«Are you interested in purchasing the book, young girl?» an old lady called your attention. She was probably the owner of the stall, and you squinted your eyes at the familiarity of her face; to be honest, you were almost certain that she was the same person that owned the book-store in your original time, but that couldn’t be the case, right?

«Hey princess, if you don’t hurry up, we’ll leave you here!» Minho’s voice interrupted your thoughts, and your head seemed to clear just like the wind clears the sky after a heavy storm; you turned your head to look at your lover, who was looking at you with his hands on his hips, a smug yet enamoured look on his face. The Golden Fleece was about to sail, you reminded yourself, you had simply stopped in town to get some supplies, water and enough provisions for the next trip.

Out of instinct, you hugged the book to your chest, as your eyes remained fixed on Minho; you didn’t know anything about how you managed to end up in this messed up reality, and at this point, you didn’t care.

The chance to go back was right in your hands, but as you watched Minho scoff a laughter at your indecision, every trace of doubt vanished from your heart; you and Minho definitely had a rough start, but you had to admit to yourself that you wouldn’t want to live in another dimension without the pirate who was looking at you as if you were the centre of the universe.

Going back meant not having Felix waking you up in the morning, or Leana bursting into your room looking for cuddles because «Chris is busy with stupid pirate stuff.». It meant not seeing both Seungmin and Jeongin incredibly proud about the latter’s progresses in writing and reading, or Changbin, Jisung and Hyunjin restlessly trying to lure you into their gambling circle.

Going back also meant no more Minho; no more walking up in the middle of the night just to cuddle closer to him, no more having quiet sex on deck in the middle of the night, no more laughing among yourselves because of a stupid inside joke you created, not having him gently chuckling at your unconsolable face anytime he was drying your hair with a towel as you kept whining about your limited edition conditioner.

Most importantly, it meant no more Minho telling you that he loved you, his eyes full of love and sincerity.

«Thank you, but I prefer adventure books.» you honestly answered at the lady, and with a content smile you placed the book exactly where it was; you quickly walked towards Minho, who hugged your shoulders out of instinct as the two of you walked towards the port.

«Saw anything you liked out there?» he wondered curiously; you sincerely seemed interested in the book you were holding, why didn’t you buy it?

«Yeah,» you answered honestly, «you.» the pirate scoffed a flustered breath, and you circled his waist as you kept walking.

Unbeknownst to you, the lady was looking at you and Minho with a some sort of fond smile on her lips; as soon as you were at a reasonable distance, the book seemed to vanish, as if it had completely disappeared from this world. In a blink of an eye, the old lady seemed to have disappeared as well, and in her place was standing the original owner of the stall, a man who was selling every kind of jewellery shining brightly on the table in front of him.

Few meters away, a cat with a very unique appearance – black fur randomly dotted with ginger spots and light green eyes, was quietly roaming the port, satisfied with her task. She recalled being called in a different variety of names during her immortal life, “Ananke” was probably the most used among different cultures; however, she will always cherish the memories she had made with a very special human who had randomly picked her up on a rainy day, giving her a shelter, keeping her well fed and gifting her with a brand new name: “Cleo”.

Walking towards the Golden Fleece, your attention was caught by some pirates who were carrying a dozen crates on board that looked quite heavy.

«Did we have so little supplies on board?» you questioned Chris, as soon as you and Minho joined the others on the wharf.

«We had plenty!» Leana answered instead, «Me and Felix decided to fill your wardrobe with new clothes, as a welcoming gift!»

«But… I don’t have a wardrobe in my room…» you answered, wondering how could a wardrobe fit in there now that you and Minho were sharing the bedroom.

«Not yet!» Felix answered, mirroring Leana’s euphoria; you were about to answer him, when Hyunjin had asked you whether you had decided to stay with them.

«I did, Captain said it’s not a problem.» you nodded, imperceptibly pushing your body against Minho’s side as if to look for an invisible shelter; what if the gambler trio was against the idea?

However, Hyunjin had simply nodded, while Changbin and Jisung seemed to be genuinely happy about it.

«Well, that’s great!» you said, clapping your hands once, «Chris said that I could chose the first thing to do, and so I decided we’re about to raid a merchant ship!»

«Are you sure you’re okay? Did you perhaps hit your head again?» Seungmin wondered, instinctively reaching out in order to touch your forehead, as if checking if you had a fever. However, you were already walking towards the Golden Fleece with confident steps, as if you were meant to be there.

«Come on, scallywags!» you eagerly announced in a loud voice, as if you were impersonating the Captain, «Let’s go, Min Min.» you added then, your voice definitely more softer and a smile on your lips.

«Wait!» Jeongin halted everyone, his hands hovering in the air, «Did she just call him-»

«You heard the lady!» Leana interrupted Jeongin, quickly pulling the palm of her hand on the younger’s mouth. «Let’s go!»

“Ah, I really shouldn’t have wasted the Britney quote like that,” you pouted, “now I have to figure out another iconic thing to scream as we walk on the merchants’ ship.” you sighed, instinctively leaning towards Minho as soon as you felt his arm circle your shoulders.

«You seem lost in thought,» he pointed out, noticing your eyebrows furrowed.

«Does “it’s high tide, baby!” sound scary and menacious to you?» you wondered out loud, thing that made Minho burst out laughing, «Why are you laughing? It’s not like we can crash against their ship screaming “vibe check”!» you pretended to be offended, but you found yourself laughing along with your lover.

«“Vibe” what? Where did that come from now?» he asked, already knowing that this was just another one of your weird figure of speech.

«My flower field.» you proudly answered, tapping your temple twice, Minho rolled his eyes, and leaned in, shortly kissing your temple.

Everyone was busy on deck, the Golden Fleece had sailed once again; your gaze lost itself in the vast sea in front of you, and you found yourself recalling the question Leana had asked you when you were on your trip to O’draxxia.

«Do you believe in soulmates?» she had questioned you, and back then you uncertainly answered that you thought you did.

“What if me and Minho are soulmates?” you wondered, unconsciously wrapping your fingers around your matching necklace - both the one you bought at the market and the talisman made out of your precious clothes; you found yourself recalling the unpredictable change of your relationship, and you breathed a content sigh, for the first time in your life feeling completely at peace.

«Yes, we must be.» you softly mumbled to yourself, your voice barely above a whisper losing itself in the wind.

Do not modify, repost, translate or plagiarize my stories. I only publish my works on tumblr & AO3.

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