How to Be a Pirate (You will be remembered, my dear)
If it is the ocean that sings to you, or the
thrill of Aztec treasure, or other kingdom’s riches, know that you cannot go
back. Once you set sail, the saltwater will haunt you even if you retire to a
desert. There will never be enough golden coins or golden islands that will
satisfy you. The life of a pirate is a thirsting life, and it is common knowledge
that saltwater does not quench.
Kiss your mother and father’s graves goodbye
before you set sail. If the ocean will not be your grave, the gallows are too
far from the churchyard to comfort your spirit. Keep your farewells frugal.
Better yet, disappear without a word. Legends are not borne out of nostalgia.
Turn a blind eye to the third mate whose hair is
bunched into their hat and keeps their chest wrapped tightly under their
bleached tunic. Her hands may be small, but they will build callouses just like
yours once she scrubs the deck long enough. Bad luck is not the fault of a
stowaway woman, and the storms are not her doing—after all, the crew had thrown
Jonah into the sea to calm it. You’d be better off watching out for the storm
that is the woman. She will put you to shame when she sets fire to your enemies
to fight tooth and nail for the freedom she earned.
Treat a mermaid gently if one accidentally gets
tangled in your fishing net—comb the hooks out of his hair and don’t curse if he
bites your fingers. Offer him your hat to shield his eyes from the sun and
answer his questions when he asks in panic why his fingers are wrinkling. If
you must chuckle, try to do so silently, so that he does not think are laughing
at him. Mermaids are born singers—their egos are easily bruised.
When a man goes overboard in the midst of a
storm, throw the rope to him. If he cannot cling onto it, lower yourself in a
rowboat to help him from the bobbing waves. But remember to never jump in after
him, if he turns away and rides the waves into the deep. Do not blame yourself.
You could hold your breath forever and still cannot rescue a drowning man who
swims away from a lifesaver.
Whistle while you work. The songs that your
mother used to sing you to sleep with are not a curse just because it is from
the past. And melodic tales about purple mountains and golden cornfields will
stun your mermaid guest—he will ask you again and again how fast horses run,
and how do flowers smell like. He will test your patience, but even pirates
enjoy basking in Scheherazade’s glory. We all like to be heard other times than
when we’re shouting orders.
There is little use in envying your legendary
predecessors. Madame Ching and Blackbeard’s skin peeled under the sun just like
yours. Legends never feel like legends when their shoulders ache.
You will lose your hand along the way. Some lose
their eye, others their foot, others aren’t as lucky and lose their hope. It is
all part of chasing the impossible. When the time comes—and it will come, when
you are least prepared—there is no shame in weeping. There will never be enough
saltwater. Let your mermaid guest dress your wound and see your tears. He will
miss your tender palms, and you will miss that sense of safety. But let him
treat you; his fingers are nimble and cool to the touch.
When he sings to you the songs of his world and
people, do not be overwhelmed—there will always be a part of the ocean that you
will never see. The greatest pirates will never know what lies beneath their
hull. Most hurl a mermaid out of their sight for fear of deception, and never
lit a candle for him to see a dancing flame for the first time, cautioning him
to keep his hands to themselves.
Keep your plank short and sturdy—no one wants to
walk to their death with shaky knees. No captain can avoid a mutiny, but that
does not mean that you did not do something wrong. Which is why without a
doubt, when your second mate plunges blindfolded into the sea, your heart will
sink right down with him. But a captain is expected to root out betrayal and
never betray themselves. Careful—if you catch yourself calling him name when
you call all hands on deck, your crew might suspect that you regret it.
Buried gold can afford bejeweled, decadent hooks
for where your hand had once been. The richest of pirates can afford hooks of
pure gold and a diamond cuff whose reflection can almost replace the spark in
your dulled eyes. But they will only ever be hooks, and your mermaid will gasp
in pain every time you cut his skin, even if you try to be gentle. He knows
that you can’t help it, but don’t get cross if he shies away from you when you
come too close. Mermaids are not quite used to love which makes them bleed.
Pirates are not heroes. They kill in order to
avoid the gallows. They maroon rather than forgive. All who sail past you will
assume the worst of you, and point their cannons at your sails without
consideration. It may be easier to live up to their expectations and take up
your sword. It is far more exhausting fighting for your nobility.
Your mermaid guest cannot stay for long. The sun
scorches his skin, shrivels his scales, cracks his voice. The explosions of
your ship’s cannons and your musket rounds piercing the Royal Navy shake him to
their core. You can beg all you want, but your hook only hurts him when you try
to hold on to him. He will wait until it is nighttime to quietly throw himself
overboard. Two of your mates will hold you back from diving after him. They
know that they could not save you if you did.
Do not be alarmed when you find yourself under
the starlight missing home. Any captain of a loyal crew will be desperately
lonely when sailing alone in the wide, treacherous expanse that is one’s own
head. I’m afraid, however, that it is too late now to turn back. Your lost
hand, or cold, nimble fingers would not be there home waiting for you even if
Understand that you will never be remembered.
Even if your name is emblazoned with fear in every queen’s heart, even if the
tales of your terror make every captain shudder. They will not remember the
songs you hummed under the moonlight. They will not remember your careful
fingers loosening hooks from their hair. Legends are not borne out of love.
genre: FLUFF + FLUFF THAT MIGHT DROWN YOU + GET UR LIFE ALERT READY
includes: wonwoo and mingyu prepare themselves as well as their daughter for her first day of school.
✎ @purplelucia suggested this 2 me lov u but hope u ch**e cause guess what i’m a puddle now n i’m suffering from meanie. ALSO QUICK NOTE, D/N STANDS FOR DAUGHTER’S NAME BC I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT TO NAME HER SO THAT’S UP TO YALL.
Out of the two, Wonwoo was always the first to wake up. His charcoal
strands would twist and curl in different directions, letting his hair share
appearance with a bird’s nest. The bare soles of his feet would sink into the
carpet as he carefully tucked back the heavy curtains, weak lemon lighting
pooling between the gaps and grazing the honey skin of Kim Mingyu.
He liked to sleep on his stomach, with his arms slipped underneath the
cool linen pillows. Throughout the night the blankets were destined to be
rumpled about and yanked in this direction, that direction. Either way, Wonwoo
would always rouse from a cloaking slumber with the view of the blankets strewn
from Mingyu’s back, allowing the lighting to gather tenuously along his
There was something about the manner each ray crossed his skin, how when
he shifted in the slightest because somehow the room had grown a little
brighter, the lighting would flicker on his lithe back like sunlight glimmering
through water. Wonwoo would card his messy bedhead back and sigh, usually
allowing him to sleep for just a moment longer. However, today was a different
occasion, much different.
“Mingyu,” Wonwoo uttered smoothly while walking around to his side of
the bed, a gentle palm cascading down the younger’s perfectly dipped spine,
“It’s time to wake up early for once, it’s D/N’s first day of school remember?”
Mingyu groaned, his cheek only pressing further into the pillow as
Wonwoo patted the base of his spine. “Wake up.” The elder lilted a little
louder, giving the caramel haired boy another chance to stifle his dreaming. A
few floppy strands of charcoal fell over Wonwoo’s eyes as he leaned down
further, until he could view how Mingyu’s fanned lashes fluttered.
He looks so pretty, Wonwoo thought, though he would rather get his palms
slapped with a ruler than admit it so suddenly, to flare Mingyu’s ego so early
in the morning.
“Babe,” Wonwoo lowered his voice, using his fingers to tap under
Mingyu’s chin. The younger finally opened his cloudy eyes, lips pinching into a
smirk at the endearment Wonwoo hardly used.
And then his snide reply was being whittled to a whine as Wonwoo glided
his fingers to Mingyu’s golden cheek, giving it a slight slap.
“Wakey wakey, eggs and get off your ass.” The elder gleamed with a smile
so incredibly fake.
Sarcastic fringeheads are highly territorial and combative fish. When they encounter each other, they stretch open their mouths in a display that makes them seem ferocious and much larger than they actually are.
During my recent trip to the beach I came across this strange fish so decided to bring him home to ID. Turns out he’s a species of Triggerfish most likely a Grey Triggerfish.
After researching about them I found out that they are usually found in the western Atlantic and the Mediterranean Sea. However due to warming sea temperatures they are becoming more common each year off the coast of Scotland.
These shoes belonged to a Celtic chieftain about 2500 years ago. His people buried him under a huge mound in what is now Germany, along with all sorts of items: a gold-plated torc on his neck, a bracelet on his right arm, a hat made of birch bark, a gold-plated dagger made of bronze and iron, rich clothing, amber jewelry, a razor knife, a nail clipper, a comb, fishing hooks, and arrows. It was discovered by an amateur archaeologist in 1977.
There was good, and evil. There was beauty and ugly. Kind and cruel. Princesses and witches. The list went on and on… That’s how all fairytales went, right? A beautiful sweet princess suffering from the cruelness of a villain -from witches, wizards to cruel queens - was saved by a prince charming that defeated the evil, and then they both lived happily ever after… But those evils were never really gone, and determined to make their ‘happily ever after’ last forever, the various kingdoms and fairy tales joined forces, creating a single giant kingdom - United States of Auradon- and defeated the evil for once and for all. All villains, sidekicks and creatures that did not belong in that perfect society they had created, were imprisoned in a island, Isle of the Lost, where they would remain imprisoned forever. Safe from their cruelness, the kingdom prospered and grew, and soon the new generation arrived, to continue what their parents had started, keeping the United States of Auradon a safe place for them and everybody…
The book was slammed closed, the sound echoing in the silent and huge throne room. The girl holding the book stood in front of the two thrones, her delicate features calm and composed, yet the small furrow on her brow betrayed her annoyance and frustration. The Queen smiled tenderly at her. Age did not seem to affect her, as she remained as fresh and beautiful as many years ago, and even the small wrinkles she made when she smiled only made her look more expressive. She gazed proudly at her joy and pride, now a grown up young lady , who had inherited her beauty and grace, but her husband’s courageous and determined personality.
With skin as white as snow, rosy cheeks and short black hair as dark as clay, Bianca was like a youngest version of her mother - Snow White - but more stubborn and hot-tempered, which she disguised very well with a sugar coat of sweetness and gentleness, until she exploded and that sweet cover fell apart. Her mother was one of the few people that had witnessed Bianca’s explosions and outbursts, and much to Bianca’s inner frustration, she had found them rather amusing. Such a beautiful delicate flower, yet speaks as if she was a tall and strong proud tree, her mother said. Queen Snow White’s smile never faltered, even though Bianca’s patience seeming to be wearing off. ‘’So?’’ The queen asked finally, her sweet voice echoing in the room. Bianca’s took a deep breath. ‘’So?’’ Bianca pointed at the book, tapping it with a finger. ‘‘The book says it clearly, all books do, and here it says-’‘ Snow White raised a hand in the air, interrupting her. ‘‘I know exactly what the book says, my dear. After all, wasn’t I there when they wrote it? Wasn’t I one of the Queens that expelled the evil out of our kingdom?’‘ The queen said gently, sounding almost amused. The girl tightened her grip on the book,. ‘‘Then, you must know better than anyone else, dear mother, that bringing the villains children into our kingdom is an utterly ridiculous and dangerous idea!’‘ Bianca said, eyes glinting with determination and perhaps growing a bit frustrated at her mother’s calmness taking in consideration the situation.
Queen Snow White stayed silent for a few moments, before slowly getting up, and walking towards one of the wide tall windows of the room, which gave them a beautiful view of the city. In the distance, a small dark island was visible from there. ‘‘Say, Bianca, lets imagine that I was as cruel as my stepmother was.’’ She said calmly, resting her hand against the window. ‘’Imagine me as unforgiving, evil and awful as her, and because of my deeds, was locked in that island. Now, imagine being born there, knowing you’ll have to stay there until the end of your days, locked in for a crime that you did not commit, but yes your mother. Knowing all you ever did wrong, was being born.’‘ Queen Snow White turned to her, sadness reflected in her gentle dark eyes. ‘’Wouldn’t you want a chance to prove everybody that you could be better than your parents, and not commit their mistakes? Can you imagine what would it be to grow up knowing an entire kingdom hates you because of something your parent did?’‘ She placed a gentle hand on her daughter’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. ‘‘I want to give those children that chance.‘’ Bianca lowered her eyes, hands grasping her long skirt. ‘‘…I guess that’s only fair.’‘ She looked up at her mother again, that stubborn glint in her eyes back, and the Queen sighed. ‘‘But, those kids grew up under the villain’s wing, how can we expect them to be polite, or be sure that they won’t cut off our heads the moment we show them our back?!’‘ Bianca crossed her arms. ‘‘For example, giving us poisoned apples?’‘ She hissed the word apple as if it was something utterly disgusting.
Snow White couldn’t help but laugh, her crystal clear laugh waking up the birds that slept over her throne, and that soon joined her with their melodic tweets. Shaking her head slowly, with a bright smile, Queen Snow White petted her daughter’s hair gently. ‘‘Dear, even I am already through the poisoned apples incident, and you’re the one still obsessing over that?’‘ She chuckled lightly, twirling her daughter around to face the door, and patted her back. ‘‘And don’t worry about our guests, me and the rest of the council decided to only invite over two kids to start out this experience. They’re both about your age so I’m sure you’ll all get along just fine!’‘ Bianca rolled her eyes, unaware of the small smirk on her mother’s face, behind her. ‘‘And to make sure nothing goes wrong, you’ll be their caretaker during their stay here!’‘ The queen announced cheerfully. Bianca’s eyes widened in horror and her heart felt like it dropped down to her stomach. ‘‘Wait! Mum, I-!’‘ She was pushed out of the room, the door closing behind her, ignoring her protests. Bianca stared up at the huge doors, her expression so mortified that the guards feared she would collapse at any moment. She didn’t though, instead, she spun around, took a deep breath, puffing her chest out and rose her chin high, as she gracefully walked down the long staircase. She just had to take care of two villains, no big deal! She could do that, right? Probably not.
She twirled a finger around one of her white and violet hair locks, luscious plump lips curled into a smirk, bright purple eyes peeking behind long lashes. Her presence was both threatening and seductive, like a thick aura stretching long tentacles around her and her target. The boy gulped, unsure if he was turned on, or scared to death. Either way, he just wanted to get the hell out of there. She closed her eyes, opening them again moments later. ‘‘Black eyes, skin as dark as chocolate, long curly black with the fragrance of red lilies, and strong hands that could strangle the living hell out of you, isn’t that right?’‘ She said finally, grinning at his shocked expression. He gulped again, fiddling with his hands nervously. ‘‘H-How do you-?’‘ She chuckled, interrupting him, and let go of her hair lock, making an elegant gesture with her hand. ‘‘Please darling, I am a witch. And knowing who my mother is, you shouldn’t be that surprised, hm?’‘ He nodded quickly, a shiver running up his spine.
The girl stood up, hips swaying side to side seductively as she inspected her shelves. Grabbing a few bottles, she threw them over her shoulder, the bottles landing in a huge cauldron as she whistled carefree, a purplish smoke rising up from it as the liquids mixed together. She smiled satisfied, filling a glass bottle with the potion. She placed a kiss on the side of the bottle, leaving a purple lipstick mark on it, and handed it to him. ‘‘Pour the entire bottle in her drink. And you’ll have her at your knees. And in your bed.’‘ She winked. The boy took the book between his hands, staring mesmerized at the potion. ‘‘..The entire bottle? Normally they say that the max is three drops-’‘ She placed a finger over his lips, a pointy sharp nail digging onto his lip. She raised an eyebrow at him, sticking an hip out. ‘‘Hush, boy. We don’t play around here. That three drops rule is only followed by old grannies glued to tradition. Pour as much as you want, the more the better!’‘ She said, finally removing her finger from the boy’s mouth. His eyes glowed with excitement, a huge grin plastered over his mouth. ‘‘Thank you so much! Here, I hope it’s enough!’‘ He placed a handful of coins in her hand. She ran her thumb over the golden coins, before shoving them between her bosoms, hiding it there. ‘‘Could be better, but I’ll let it pass this time.’‘ Except there won’t be a next time, she thought to herself as she watched the boy sprint out of her shop, eager to win his beloved’s love.
‘‘That wasss cruel, Missss.’‘ Two mischievous voices hissed at the same time. The girl tilted her head back, glancing with boredom at the aquarium on her desk. Two old eels peeked out from underneath the rocks where they hid most of the time to sleep. Flotsam and Jetsam, her mother’s precious babies and also her spies and eyes to see the up world without needing to leave her ‘bed’. Rolling her eyes, the girl shrugged. ‘‘Anybody that tries to force a girl to love them, instead of trying to win their heart themselves, deserves that punishment. Don’t you agree?’‘ The eels snickered mockingly, their golden golden eyes glinting in the darkness of the aquarium. ‘‘But the poor boy will be torrrn apart, broken into tiny little piecess, that wasss quite the cruel feat, missss Hydra. Madam will be prrrroud.’‘ The whispered in a echo. Hydra smirked, brushing her long hair with a comb made out of fish bones. ‘’i know.’’ It was true, the boy would be lucky to return home alive that day. The three drops rule was a crucial rule, as more than three drops could lead to something catastrophic. Drinking an entire bottle of a love potion for example, could lead a person to love the other so much, that they’ll want to get as close as possible to them, even if i means tearing them apart and eat them, just to satisfy their desire to be with them. It was cruel beyond anything she had ever done, but the moment the boy walked into her store, drooling over some girl who he wanted to go to bed with but didn’t wanted to through rejection, Hydra felt that she could just grab him and snap his neck with her bare hands. He wasn’t the first and neither the last. Men and women came to her and many witches doorstep, seeking a love potion that would obligate their target to love them against their will, until their carnal desires were satisfied. It was disgusting. ‘‘Madam issss calling.’‘ The eels announced, snapping Hydra out of her thoughts. She immediately dropped the book she was reading, quickly closing the store, locking everything, before hurrying into a hall with a long spiral staircase that led to downstairs, underground.
Ursula, once one of the most terrifying and powerful villains ever. Every single creature from the sea feared her, and even some earth creatures shook before her name. That was a long time ago tho. Hydra stared down at her mother, trying to imagine how she would have looked many years ago. It was said she had been a beautiful mermaid, until she tried to steal the Triton’s trident and was severely punished by the King himself. First, she had lost her beautiful and elegant fin - any mermaid’s pride - to be replaced with eight ugly tentacles, her hair cut off, and then she was banished from Atlantis, obligating her to leave in misery inside a cave. Years later, thanks to the Triton’s own daughter, she was able to catch the trident again, but ended up being defeated again.
And now, the once powerful Ursula was stuck in a kid’s pool, stuffed inside it with all her eight tentacles, looking like a sick and old octopus. There were several pipes pumping in new fresh water into the pool, while the others removed the old one, which helped her to keep herself fresh. She was still a terrifying sight, just not so much in a colorful plastic pool with little fishes drawn over it. ‘‘Hydra, come here my darling!’‘ The sea witch said cheerfully as always, yet commandingly, and Hydra obeyed. Ursula tapped her chin thoughtfully, tilting her head slightly. She shook her head in disapproval. ‘‘My darling, if you want to attract more clients, you’ll have to show off more what you have in ‘store’ for them!’‘ Saying that, the sea witch stretched Hydra’s collar to make it more wide, pushing her chest up. ‘‘Wear a corset, it’ll make those girls stand up more. You know what I always say, use what mama gives you, sweetie!’‘’ Ursula said, smugly, as she finished ‘fixing’ her daughter’s clothes to make her look more desirable. Rolling her eyes, Hydra placed her hands on her hips in a pose. ‘‘Mum, please, do you really think those people are worthy of seeing all this?’’ She smirked. Ursula laughed, clapping her hands. ‘’That’s my girl! Now, come here and sit with Mama! You won’t believe what news just arrive.’’ A glint appeared in the witch’s eyes, a dangerous sparkle that was gone for many, many years, but that was now back along with a new hope. And a new chance.
I’ve lived on a boat for 16 years and each summer I would swim with my siblings. My brother was always the first to jump into the water because with every first swim of the year, I would be afraid to jump in. Probably afraid of the fact that I couldn’t see what’s hiding underneath the surface. :P
I still fear the deep dark waters but I’m also greatly fascinated to know what’s in there. Especially deep down the oceans where there’s no light, expect from the animals who live there. :D
I imagine Maquenda also fearing the water but more daring and curious to take a look at the beauty that is hiding there. I think she likes the water, as she is like a bird and aren’t fish called the birds of the sea sometimes? :D