Shadows danced against the back of his eyelids, slowly his consciousness connecting back to his body through labored breaths.

"HES DEAD!" The proclamation followed by a shrill, "AHHHHHHHHH THATS SO GROSS!! I TOUCHED A DEAD BODY!!!"

And the exhausted sigh that chased his words from a figure beside where he laid against a tough floor, this voice much calmer and melodic than the one moments before, "Jisung shut up, he's still breathing, he's not dead. Yet."

What the fuck...

Reluctantly Jeongin pressed his head back against the surface he was laid out on. The floor beneath him harsh against the back of his scalp, uncomfortable as his spine warped to cooperate with the unmailable flat surface, yet undeniably warm. Heat that radiated from the ground into his fingertips and palms pressed flat against the rough texture he rubbed his fingers into to orient himself with his location, soaking in to his drenched clothes clinging and melting to his body like an unwanted second skin and alleviated where his nerves trembled with the frigid breeze combing over his body, an undeniable swell of torridity from somewhere above that scalded him semi-dry from his earlier dip in the water.

Peeling his eyes open, Jeongin winced at the brightness that flooded into his retinas. He fluttered his eyelids a few times. Attempting to adjust to the sudden light that bit into his already pained eyes, feeling as if they had been gritted with sandpaper and salt water to rinse the wounds clean. Once able to open his eyes, the strangest sight meeting his gaze; A sky once clouded with thunderstorms and dumping rain raptured open to a stunning field of azalea blue that had him breathless (Or it could be the fact he almost drowned... Eh.), an untamed sunlight that radiated on every body it's gleaming rays could touch down on with homely welcome and undone abandon, sheets of fabric that were hoisted high in the sky on wood pillars tied off with ropes that caught the breeze, and... And...

Masts.

Jeongin could only stare up at the sails that caught the wind high above them.

Those are galleon masts!

Brushing off the aches in his body, he darted to sit up off the ground.

A hand landed on his shoulder from someone beside him. His gaze shifting across to an unfamiliar man with a face he couldn't place yet yearned with knowing; With  slightly pudgy but prominent features on a sun-kissed face, gleaming chestnut hues caught from the shining sunlight, his curled hair strands were unkempt and the color of an ink stained coral dredged from the bottom of the seas. His clothes were... Weird. Jeongin thought this clothes were weird. A shirt woven from linen with a knot of a leather adjustment tied on the front of his chest, his pants more like trousers than the jeans Jeongin were wearing, and his leather boots that covered his calves, his belt, the sword that hung off his side, a flintlock tucked away in the band, his folded sleeves above his elbows, the necklace he wore, the bracelets on his wrists, he was odd and strange, and—

And he didn't seem to mind that Jeongin was staring at him cluelessly either. Simply turning to his company, two men dressed similarly to him; One that crouched down at the base of Jeongin's soaked sneakers, watching him intently with eyes that reminded him of seafoam and puffy cheeks, and his shirt more silken in the ruffled cuffs at the end of his sleeves though his assortment of weapons and accessories were similar; And the other, stood a while back with his arms folded over his chest and a suspicion in his feline-angled eyes, the black jacket he wore and the frayed waist coat under seemed to be a modified soldier's uniform with worn tassels and buttons. With a confident simper back to those two, the man squeezed his hand to steady Jeongin, "See? Told you he was alive. You owe me a drinks."

Gradually, the panic buried inside of his throat began to bubble up again. Where the hell was he? With the plank floor beneath him that rocked rhythmically softly in lulls and the water that stuck to his body sticky with the stench of salt, the raised masts sprouted from the planks like trees grown in forests who's branches held on to the sails that fluttered and groaned to free themselves from the ropes with every gust of wind,these three strangers who crowded around where he laid on what looked to be a wide deck of a galleon accompanied with railings and iron cannons, but how is that possible? He was in his university's library, and it started collapsing in an earthquake, and there was water and, now he's here? Was he kidnapped? Was he kidnapped and put on a galleon? Is that even possible in the 21st century, are there any galleons still around and functional?!

What the fuck!

"W-Who are you?" Jeongin managed to stammer out around the lump collected in his throat. Though his throat felt abraded and torn, aching and sore from scrapes he could only blame on his near drowning experience in the university's library, he swallowed down any apprehension he had sitting on his tongue to get answers from those three men. Their eyes turned to him, landing to pin him down to the spot he was stuck in due to them caging him in. He pressed himself farther off the ground, trying to stand up on wobbly legs as he ranted, "Wait, where am I? How did I get here? What—"

"Woah, slow your roll there. Take it easy," The man beside him gripped his shoulder harder, squeezing more as he kept Jeongin from standing off the floor. A gentle smile came to his face when Jeongin snapped a glare in his direction to warn him off, "You're not in any danger—"

The man with crossed arms took his flintlock from his belt, and aimed it at Jeongin. While the one beside him let out an exasperated groan, pinching into the bridge of his nose with an irritation, his voice came across flat and accusing as he threatened him, "Who sent you? Who do you belong to? Levanter? Miroh? The Yellow Woods? Clé? Which one? Are you Armada? Merchant? Imperial?! Which is it?!"

"What...?" He could only murmur, starting down the barrel of the flintlock as the pile of information only seemed to confuse him more. Miroh? Armada? Imperial? What did any of these mean, and where the hell was he!

"What flag do you sail under?!" The man with the flintlock interrogated.

Jeongin shouted back at him, "What does that even mean?!"

"Where are your manners!" The one with floating seafoam eyes stood up from the planks by Jeongin's feet, immediately whipping around to the one with the flintlock. He shoved him gently backward, managing to snatch the flintlock from the feline man's hands as he lectured  him, "We've talked about this! Even if you have my pelt, I won't stay around if you aren't kind to other humans!"

"Jisung, he could be a traitor!"

"You are so melodramatic, Minho! How can he be a traitor if he isn't on our side in the first place?"

The man snarled, his lips pulling back against sharp fangs as he instead unsheathed his sword and presented it by his side, "Then he is simply our enemy...!"

The one with seafoam eyes shoved him hard enough to topple the man named Minho over on the deck, lecturing him as if the grown adult was a child or dog to discipline, "Minho, no!"

Fangs, weirdly colored eyes, an aggressive man with a flintlock and a sword, a smaller one who keeps pushing him over, the one beside him exasperated as he watched the other two interacting, their weird clothes, their weird jewelry, galleon sails, a top deck, an open sky, Jeongin could only bring himself to one conclusion:

These people are crazy!

While their attention was preoccupied elsewhere, Jeongin smacked the hand planted on his shoulder off and blasted back to his feet. Scrambling from the wooden deck to escape the three weirdos, his fingertips steadying him against the wide masts as the floor underneath him swayed from side to side with the most gentle accord, sprinting as quickly as he could to avoid the slips of shouts protesting him running away. He didn't spare them the attention. Heading for the railings, if he could spot a leisure ship or the port city they departed from, he could jump off the edge and get away from his kidnappers, if he swam into the waves, he could get away from them!

But as his hands braced his stop against the carved wooden railings, his body slamming into the supports as they stopped him from tipping over the ledge completely, his heart sunk. Falling deep within his chest. Cascading farther into the field that met his eyes; Royal cerulean mountains peaked at their rippling tops with ice caps bending underneath the crisp gusts chilling against his nose, the mist that sprayed from the liquid cobalt sloshing against the wooden steep off the over end of the railing collecting frost against his cheeks, frigid freckles that splashed him and melted away with the sultry heat of the sunlight belting down to him. Picturesque in the far horizon that blended together with a cloudless sky and the rocking waves. Like something from a painting. Like a painting from a distant memory.

Ocean. It's nothing but ocean!

His heart collapsed inside of his ribs. The grip his hands kept on the railing Crumbling to pieces washed over by the ebb and flow of the tides that rocked the galleon he was aboard, the thundering inside of his chest may have been as insignificant as the foaming peaks of the open waves of the effervescence from the hazy mists collecting on his jeans and hoodie. Billow by billow, the active waters which collided and covered what laid beyond their reach. Upon realizing there was nothing but that field, nothing but the ocean as far as his eyes could see in the distance, his heart was rinsed away beneath the salty waves until his heartbeat could only be felt as an echo of what it once was in his eardrums.

He truly was on a galleon, in the middle of water, the midday sky when he was certain he stayed at the library until evening, far from anywhere he could recognize. Far from his drab apartment, tucked away on a shady side of the city where bars across windows and liquor stores were on every corner, yet that building being more comfortable and safe than anywhere he had lived before. Far from his university, his classes and lectures, his finals he reluctantly studied for, the pastry shop in the corner of the campus he visited every Tuesday. Far from his group chat, his friends he was going to spend his summer vacation with, far from... From Seungmin. The man he loved, the man he proudly called his boyfriend, his hope, his heart, his liege, his life, his everything.

"Where am I?!" Jeongin whipped around from the railing, abandoning his hopes to swim back to shoreline as he pressed himself far into the stiffened barrier. The edge squeezing an irritation into his spine as he hurriedly glanced over his kidnappers. His abductors, where they stood a length away from him with a palpable worry present in their eyes, were they worried he would try to dive over the edge? In that case, Jeongin stepped a foot up on the edge, daring to silently threaten them with taking a tumble off the side. And knowing now what he did, if they tried to dodge his questions, if they tried to avoid them, he would. He leaned farther into the barrier as he accused them, "Where did you take me?!"

"Shouldn't we be the ones asking you the questions?" The man who had been holding his shoulder was the first to speak up, his hands splaying out wide as if the sight of his palms were supposed to be calming. As if he was attempting to talk down a raging bull or a wild animal that managed to climb aboard. His fingers splayed wide as he spoke calmly, more serene and relaxed than the other two,"You were the one drowning in the open ocean when there's no one else around us. How long have you been out here for? You're lucky the selkie spotted you, you're even luckier our First Mate is fearless enough to dive in after you."

Of everything his mind could've clung to in his statement; He's been stranded out in the waters, there's no one else around for him to suddenly appear, their 'First Mate' saving him from the water; The single thing he could respond with was a weak, "S-selkie?"

"Hi! That's me! I'm Jisung, nice to meet you," The selkie, the one with the eyes the color of seafoam and brimming hazel, soft cheeks and a lithe beauty, Jisung. The other one, Minho called him that name before too. He wobbled closer and held out his hand to shake. When Jeongin just tightened his hands to fists by his side, the selkie forcefully snatched his wrist and contorted his hand to shake despite his resistance, a friendly grin tugging his lips up, "You're human too, like Changbin, so why do you smell different? You smell like oil and rocks, Changbin smells like human, that's what a human is supposed to smell like, like fleshy sweetness, like candy! But you smell sour and sticky, why is that?"

Seal person!

Jeongin quickly yanked his hand away from Jisung. The motion earning him a dejected gaze from the selkie. A selkie... Human... That's a seal... Seal human... Thing... No? No, that's not possible that's not a thing! Mythical creatures don't exist! They're mythical for a reason, fantasy, it's nothing but fantasy, and... And... The fae didn't exist. Their rhymes were nothing but tales told to entertain children. Neither did the nymphs exist, the gnomes which hide under rocks, the selkie by the coastlines, the sirens farther out with the beautiful song, ghouls did not creep through the underbrush at night, and unicorns did not gallop in wait inside forests. The stories, were nothing but that. Stories. Lies, and words, spilled to give flickers of useless hope to those who needed distractions. Rivers did not dance. Forests do not sing.

The other one started up again with a sigh, Jeongin thinks he was the person Jisung had been referring to when he mentioned the name 'Changbin' since he looked human enough, his hand turning rigid as it raked back through his curly hair, "Okay, I know this is all confusing, but if you calm down and listen—"

But him too! On his forearm! How did Jeongin miss it before when he was crouched on the ground beside him! Where the linen beige of the shirt he wore was rolled up above his elbows, his forearms were inlaid with deep hues of ink. Archaic runes that circled around the radius of his muscle in etched circles, lines that were scrapped and scratched with that color into his veins and the outside of his hands along knuckles to fingertips. Both of his arms spread with those designs. Spread with the umbral ink, as it shimmered in tandem in the sunlight. Seemingly glowing beneath the beaming rays as the darkness inside of the tattoos writhed against one another, as if they were alive. As if his tattoos were ALIVE!

"What are you?!" Jeongin flinched backward. Unable to do more than desperately grab onto the wooden railing behind him to steady the wobbling of his knees wishing to give out underneath him. Wishing to abandon him for dead, for complete dead in front of those three watching him carefully, not that he wasn't already fresh meat! Didn't selkies eat humans for dinner? Were they going to kill him, chop him up, and feed him to Jisung for dinner? Or the one with the feline angled eyes in the back, Minho, was he going to eat him with his fangs? Is that why they kidnapped him? No matter the fact they said they found him, they could be liars! And what if this man is a cannibal? He's done for!

"Uh, I'm... human, clearly?" Changbin blinked at him, a pure puzzlement splattering across his features at the panicked question. He then followed Jeongin's eyes gawking uncontrollably at the runes on his forearms, a realization seeming to dawn on his expression, "Or, have you never seen a warlock before, or something?"

WARLOCK?

Jisung suddenly invaded on Jeongin's personal bubble to grab the side of his hoodie, tugging on the soft fabric a bit as he murmured, "You have a strange pelt too? He doesn't look like Armada from one of the kingdoms?"

"LET GO OF ME! LET GO!" He swatted the selkie away. His arms flailing to chase the two off of him, only to lose his balance when the heel of his sneaker clipped against the bottom of the blisters. Smacking down against the ground on his tailbone, and the pain that shot up along his spine only being muted with the adrenaline coursing through his veins with every thump of his heart in his ribcage. He flailed his arms again, using his hands to barricade himself against the crux of the deck and the rails, "Back up! Stay away from me! You fiends!"

This situation was screwed! Completely fucked up, twisted, miserable, if he was still home, he would be tackling his first final exam of the semester in university, and most likely finishing it by this time of the day! He would have woken beside the coziness of a warm body tangled with his and in the arms of the man he loved, he would've eaten a delicious breakfast with him and parted with good luck kisses, he would've been happy; Not terrified, confused, scrunched against a railing on a very much real galleon on the open waters of an ocean he didn't know, stuck in his drenched clothes with a stickiness from the sea salt clung to his skin, shivering from the breeze that ran along the bobbing deck, and no it didn't matter if he could see the concern and worry from the stranger's gazes staring him down.

Right now, at home, was anyone worried about him? Did anyone know he was missing, did anyone know he disappeared from the inside of the library? Did anyone realize he was supposed to be at his apartment, he was supposed to be in his lectures, he was supposed to respond to the text his Mom sent him about visiting home during the summer, did anyone realize he was gone? Did anyone report him as missing to the police yet, was anyone trying to find him? If they were, how were they supposed him while he was stranded fifty thousand miles off the coast of anywhere recognizable, surrounded by people who claimed they were mythical creatures and magical beings, when none of those things exist. How, if he was going to get help, how are they going to find him out here?

But what if they weren't lying? What if the guy with the curly hair was a warlock, and the one with the seafoam eyes was a selkie, what if the guy with fangs was a... A vampire or a ghoul or something of the type? What if they were right when they said he was drowning in the ocean where no one was around?

DOESN'T THAT MAKE IT WORSE? HOW THE FUCK DID HE END UP HERE?!

A portal to another world? A rip in the space time continuum? A bad acid trip, but Jeongin was certain he didn't do any drugs (As tempting as it may have been to get him through writing his research paper). Was he summoned? Rejected? Did his own reality not want him anymore, did it spit him into another universe where magic and mythical creatures were a thing, and galleons were common modes of transportation atop the ocean? Why him, of all people? He was happy with his life. Completely content with going to university, working his internship, visit his family during his breaks, talking with his friends and staying up late hours to play games with them, having a boyfriend, he didn't want any of that go suddenly go away, so...? Why? Why is he here? Him being kidnapped seemed like the better solution now.

What does he do? Where does he go from here?

"Congratulations, you three. This is a new record for 'amount of time taken to terrify the person you're meant to be keeping an eye on'. How is it every time the Captain and I turn our backs for even a second, somehow you manage to cause havoc?"

Wait.

Inside of his chest, Jeongin's heart flurried back to life with the chime of that familiar voice.

How could he not recognize it? The clarity the tips of his words had rolling off of his tongue, crystalline clear and articulated with a lilt that always reminded him of freshwater springs. Dashing water that rushed along mountaintops and in the brooks of forests. A rush of bubbling water, purified and cool to wash against the salt that settled inside of his wounds. Cleaning him from the grit that grimed in the cracks fractured inside of his body with every late night call over homework assignments and exam studying, every quip made while walking hand in hand mindlessly without a destination in hopes their time wouldn't grow short, every single kiss that whispered goodbye, every single embrace that lingered a moment more, laced with that voice. A second home to him. A clairvoyance that fluttered inside of his throbbing chest.

He lowered his hands, peering first to the leather boots that stepped along the wooden planks. Methodically, footsteps that told his motions had purpose to them as he sauntered against the deck. One foot crossing in front of the other, confidently, as Jeongin used to love watching from behind. Similar trousers to the others, though these he tucked into the head of those boots were tainted a sheer black that billowed in the breeze. His blouse, more similar to the silken ruffles and light fabric that Jisung wore, sashed with a leather band across his shoulder to his chest and covered by a bronze jacket. What accessories he wore alongside, golden necklaces and earrings that hung, rings that accented slim fingers Jeongin loved to kiss, a blue sash that tied around his waistline. The cloth patterned with muted gold and swirls of emerald green hung off his side. Auburn brown hair that picked up the smallest of disturbance in the air.

And that face. The innocent yet fearless look to his eyes, the challenge of a battle he had fallen deeply in love with two years ago. Snarky and sly, but honest and trusting with the glint in the corner of his lips when they quirked up.

Seungmin.

His own boyfriend, striding smoothly toward him as the other three seemed to scoot aside for him.

But when he would usually be greeted by a sweet kiss to the tip of his nose and a hug that had him melting apart every time those arms secured him, Seungmin decided to greet him with suspicious eyes. His hand slipped to the hilt of the sword by his side, swiftly unsheathing it.

He opened his mouth to speak to him.

Instead, he was silenced by the blunt edge of the blade pressing into the side of his throat.

Locking up, Jeongin could only weakly tilt his head back to not cut himself on the edge. Swallowing down the words he wanted to say as he looked up at those eyes that enchanted him time and time again.

He doesn't recognize me?

"Although I would like to be formal and cordial with you, Minho is correct that we don't know who you are. Please stay calm, collect yourself, and I advise you keep your mouth closed until I get the answers I need from you," Seungmin articulated to him. Smoothly, clearly, the sound of a melody that washed soothing cool against the pounding of his fevered skin despite the threat of a sword against him. There was no anger, no condescending edge, no suspicion. Only a sympathy weakening his eyes, and the command that had Jeongin swooning again for him, "Open your mouth only to answer my questions. This isn't a threat, merely a precaution to keep us safe. You understand, don't you, pretty boy?"

And to make things worse, my boyfriend is sticking a sword in my face because he doesn't remember me now?

"Name?" Seungmin started.

He could only stammer a hesitant, "J-Jeongin."

"Kingdom?"

"I... I'm not from any... kingdom."

"An imperial then? A delegate from the empire?"

"I don't know. I wasn't here, I was home, at university, in the library, and— and I don't know why or how I got here. I don't know where I am."

Seungmin pulled the blade away from his throat. Instead moving the flat side underneath his chin. Moving gently as Jeongin felt the silent command to lift his head higher up to his boyfriend and the people who accompanied him. He didn't move his eyes off of Jeongin, maintaining the intimidating eye contact they kept as he seemed to ask to no one in particular, "And? Is he lying?"

"No," Came the answer from Changbin. If Jeongin tried to move his eyes to see him at the bottom of his vision, he could see a soft violet glow from the inked tattoos in his arms that muted again to their inactive black.

"Well, Jeongin. Jeongin, from the foreign country of University, and  resident of Library, I apologize for my crewmates crassness and lack of manners toward you," Seungmin pulled the end of the sword away from him, smoothly flipping the blade in a circle to sheath it once more by his side. Trained, practice, and careful with the movement, while Jeongin knew for certain the Seungmin he loved hadn't touched a sword in his lifetime. This Seungmin then reached a hand out to Jeongin still sitting awkward against the floor, "And I apologize for us frightening you, they're well-intentioned but poorly executed with their actions."

Reluctantly, Jeongin forced his eyes away from Seungmin's to his hand. A discoloration on the edge of his finger slamming familiarity into his heart once more.

He has the same scar on his thumb too.

But Jeongin choked any of the words he wanted to say down, knowing that none of his woes would be exactly helpful at the moment until he knew more about what was going on, instead grabbing onto the hand Seungmin (?) extended out to him. Taking it up as his boyfriend (?) hauled him off the ground and back to his feet, offering him a tender turn of his lips in a smile as he steadied his feet from underneath him, "You'll be safe here. I guarantee you no harm will befall to you while you sail under our flag, until we can return you home."

Again, when Jeongin opened his mouth to respond,

"Try not to startle the boy anymore. Make him feel welcome," Seungmin let go and turned away before he could get his words out. Turning his attention to the other three. Minho, Jisung, and Changbin. Commanding them with a simple, "Direct orders from the Captain."

Under his breath, Jeongin heard the faint mutter from Minho, "Says the guy who kissed h—"

"It was a strategic move to keep him alive! He was running out of breath and he would've drowned if I didn't!" Seungmin interrupted.

Right... I remember someone kissed me.

Jeongin could feel a faint warmth that rose in his cheeks.

It was him?

Minho choked back a snort, meanwhile Changbin smiled slyly at him, "Yeah, sure."

With a scoff of disbelief, Seungmin gripped hard onto the hilt of his sword and stormed away from them. His shoulder purposefully slamming into Minho's as he left them behind on the deck.

Before Jeongin could think anything more of it, the selkie Jisung was by his side again, gripping onto his hoodie and tugging on the fabric with a whisper underneath his lips, "Your pelt is weird..."

"My... My clothes?" Jeongin tried to clarify, subtly trying to step away from his hands. Though they were oddly gentle and careful with their touching of his hoodie, not treating him roughly in the slighest. Still! He couldn't shake the thought! Really, what if they were trying to eat him?! It's not exactly like having a sword shoved in his face reassured him and his sense of safety, even if his boyfriend (?) was the one to tell him he would be safe here. Selkies don't eat people, right? If he really was a selkie. Maybe he was simply a strange person.

"Yes. Clothes. They're wet. And strange. We don't wear pelts like this around here, we must get you a new pelt—" Jisung cut his words off, immediately correcting his words with a swelled gasp, "Clothes, Jeongin. And somewhere warm before the chill from the water freezes you."

Jeongin tried to brush him off, leaning away as he looked for where a certain auburn bundle of hair had escaped off to.

Seungmin...

"Please come with me. We don't mean you any harm," Jisung offered to him once more, instead grabbing up his hand to subtly pull him away from the railing. Though his eyes lingered on Jeongin's sleeves as he whispered the faint words once more, "But... I want your pelt..."

"My... My hoodie?"

Jisung's eyes widened with amazement, his hand coming to pet along Jeongin's arm as he repeated the word,

"A hoodie...!"

Yeah... Just... A very, strange person...

𓇼༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𖠳 ᐝ ꕀ ⋆｡ ˚ ༝𓇼

Guys wait I have a cute idea

What if I make a map for the world? Like there's those online generators that create worlds, what if we had that for the isekai world 🥹🥹