#and I won't speak for everyone's journey
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It's amazing how oft times healing doesn't change who you are, but helps you like who are better.
#I went to therapy today#and my therapist was congratulating how much progress I've made#and I was thinking#'Yeah I am doing so much better but sometimes it doesn't feel like it because I still feel the same'#and I'm kind of realizing#that's because I am the same#I'm the same person who started this journey I'm just better at coping with my emotions and anxiety#like I always had this ideal version of me#I think everyone does#this person who is always right and brave and never upset or lets other people get to her#this person that is perfect and worthy of love#and like#I thought healing meant becoming that person#and I won't speak for everyone's journey#but at least for me#healing is not becoming that person#but realizing the flawed person you are right now#is a already worthy of love and happiness#and learning how to love them and seek happiness#and least that is part of the journey#and I'm glad I'm making it
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The thing is, it's not about the Therapy Speak. It's not that everyone who disliked DAV hates healthy communication as a dynamic in fiction. It's not even about only being allowed to be a good guy, really, because most of us did do that anyways (though the option not being there is a loss I grieve even if I never chose it myself, but that's another rant for another day).
It's that DAV does all that stuff at the expense of being believable. At the expense of characters being permitted to have personalities. At the expense of emotions behaving the way emotions actually work for people. At the expense of letting the plot build tension through the stakes we're forced to grapple with.
Half the fics out there take the conflicts between the characters in the previous games and resolve them. I do it myself ALL THE TIME because I like to find a path to resolution through just about any conflict, that's what fascinates me about telling these stories. But the higher the stakes, the harder a conflict is to resolve. You CAN resolve any conflict, you CAN communicate healthily through any emotion, but you can't skip the time it takes to process it all to even be able to communicate it. As someone whose got CPTSD and recovered from many Traumas, I can tell you that the TIME it takes to work through it is not something you can fast track, and the ups and downs of your emotions on that journey can't be skipped. It doesn't matter if you know exactly how to do it, exactly how it's going to feel, or exactly what the end state will be, you CAN'T speedrun it.
DAV has stakes that are astronomical, but nobody treats them that way. Nobody experiences denial - a common psychological reaction to being presented with information that shatters your worldview. Nobody expresses any distrust in the establishments handing out this information - something common among cultures that have at times been at war, even if those wars are "resolved" in the present. Nobody really ever breaks down - something that any person is capable of under extreme circumstances, especially when facing multiple crises of faith that challenge everything they thought they knew about themselves. Nobody blows their lid because they've been repressing the hell out of everything. Nobody grieves for southern Thedas, the entire thing dying off screen and giving you, the player, NO way to engage with it in any way.
Not to mention there are barely any inter-party conflicts, when there should be a lot more. Why is everyone (except Spite) fine with it if Emmrich sacrifices Manfred to become a lich? Why is everyone fine with Illario potentially being set free if he was working with the venatori and Elgar'nan, two sources that have actively attacked everyone in the party? Why doesn't Neve resent Lucanis if Treviso is picked? Why doesn't Harding get pissed off at Nevarra for having a secret society of liches that never helped during the Inquisition's war against the breach and corypheus? Why doesn't Harding feel ANYTHING about Ferelden and the rest of the south? Shouldn't Harding resent the fact that she's stuck in the north while her home dies?
All of these conflicts ARE resolvable, but not easily. And it's not believable that they're never brought up. It's not believable that these characters skip through everything that happens with like, barely a frowny face most of the time. In DAO, Alistair leaves if you don't treat his conflicts with respect. In DA2, your party members try to kill each other if you don't pay attention to their conflicts/emotional needs. In DAI, people can leave or betray you, Cassandra throws a chair at Varric and tries to body him out a window. ALL of these can be resolved but it takes effort, and the characters get to SHOW that they're bothered by them and struggling the way a person would when faced with those emotions.
The problem isn't the therapy speak, or that everyone is loyal and won't leave, or that they aren't mean to each other enough. It's that it's toxic positivity. It's toxic as fuck to imply that anger or grief should be smiled over or else you're giving up, and it's damaging to people to avoid engaging with their own negative emotional responses to extremely negative stimuli. It's pasting optimism over very real, very weighty issues, sweeping it all under the rug, and you keep waiting for the lid to blow off the pressure cooker that creates, but it never does. It never becomes anything that emulates real emotions, which is why the whole damn thing feels hollow. Everything's dying and nobody cares, not even about themselves, and that's NOT healthy communication.
It's bullshit, half-assed storytelling that didn't tell us the actual story, just the vague idea of what it could have been.
#zombolouge writes#dragon age#dragon age spoilers#DAV#DAV Spoilers#DAV critical#veilguard critical#been rolling this one around in my head for a while because I know it wasn't “healthy communication” that was pissing me off#I write healthy communication all the goddamn time and people seem to enjoy it#but I also treat the trauma and the problems with fucking respect#ignoring your negative emotions is a form of self-destruction#it's just not how psychology works#and this is indeed not even addressing all the lore conflicts that they want us to think got fixed in the last ten years off screen#or the erasure of the complicated parts of some of the factions *cough the Crows cough*#but like JUST as a baseline JUST the emotional handling of the narrative is wack as fuck
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I love all ur blog sm!! Can I ask abt something with the slashers (specially Thomas <3) with an foreigner!reader that don't quit speak english very well and normally forget words?
(Sorry if something is spelled wrong, English is not my native language lmao)
Absolutely, I can!
And because the request didn't specify, this fic will strictly be about speaking a foreign language.
Sorry if this is inaccurate! I'm a native English speaker and don't know many who aren't. Sorry in advance!!
Slashers x Foreigner!Reader
Micheal Myers:
•This man will act like he doesn't care but in reality he's so intrigued. (It might be why you're still alive)
•He’ll spend his time watching you practice your pronunciation and recognition patterns, like it's a movie.
•Is he a bit mean about it? Yes. Will he laugh? Probably.
•If you find yourself not knowing what certain words are and stumble around until you find the right word, You'd be surprised at how patient he is.
•If you are very new to the English language he'll secretly get you flash cards and stash them into a place he knows you'll find them
•Despite everything, if you ask him for help, he will help. He might be mute but he can write and use TV to aid you.
Billy loomis & Stu macher:
•Stu is already romanticizing your language, but instead of using the actual name of your language, he calls it “Talking pretty to me”
•Billy asks if you want any text books or study equipment to help you on your English speaking journey
•Both boys are a surprising help! Stuttering trying to articulate what you mean? They've already jumped in to, A) help save you some of the embarrassment, and B) give you time to think about what you're trying to say.
•Someone making fun of you? They're either dead or a social outcast by the end of the week.
•Are you struggling to remember a certain word? These boys are willing play charades until you figure it out. And they won't drop it either, Stu says ‘It’s bad to give up when you've already come so far.’
•Over all it's not so bad (Stu 100,000,000% uses Google translate to figure out how to say ‘i love you’ in your native language)
Thomas Hewitt:
•When both of you met, he had never met an actual foreigner before.
•He knew people travel around and occasionally some valley girl would end up in their small town, But someone from a whole different part of the world?
•His interest in you spiked the moment he heard your accent
•Thomas has so many questions but doesn't know how to ask you
•With him being mute and your struggles with English, It's not the easiest relationship. In the end both of you just end up pointing at things and making noises to get your point across.
•Absolutely loves to listen to you speak in your native language, Even if he'll never understand it.
•When he's first trying to court you, he leaves you slightly damaged flowers (he struggled to pick them) to communicate his affection.
•even with a language barrier, he's gonna love you like no one ever could
Bubba Sawyer:
•He had no idea people outside of America existed
•When You fell into the palm of Texas and his brothers found you failing to remember the word for your favorite snack, They knew you would be an easy target.
•When they kidnapped you and brought you to the basement so Bubba could chop you up, he was fascinated by the way you desperately tried to beg him not to kill you.
•It ended in a huge fight in the family, But he got everyone to let you live a bit longer.
•Sits Criss Cross applesauce while you speak for your life. You could babble about anything and he would listen intently.
•He pulls out his alphabet soup machine and spends hours typing with you. (You help him finally get past the clown level)
Bo Sinclair:
•absolute meanie, stinky poopy head about it >:(
•will mock your stutters and say stuff like “Oh come ON! The word is Cat! C. A. T. CAT! What's so hard about that?”
•If you speak your native language around him, He thinks you're insulting him or intentionally hiding something.
•”If you could say it to my face in your language you can say it to my face again in mine!”
•The same sentiment is not shared when it involves bedroom fun
•Will eventually apologize, But that's going to take a while
Vincent Sinclair:
•As another non-speaking fellow he takes his time to make sure you two can understand each other
•He’ll mostly use body language and and little doodles to get his point across
•Stuttering over a word? He doesn't care, he'll let you work it out without any judgment!
•Want his help? He has several books, Vincent will just pull out a book he knows as the word in it, flipped to the page, and point at the word.
•Love listening to you talk, In English or not. He'll happily let you yap his ear off.
Lester Sinclair:
•Poor boy was lovestruck when he first heard you talk!
•Full on heart eyes while you explain where you're from and how you ended up here
•If you end up fumbling on a word he'll start shouting out potential words for what you're trying to say.
•Example: “and then I had too…uh…um..” “Run? Pee? Eat? Were you hungry? Are you hungry right now?”
•So helpful, I know
•But the guy is already googling restaurants based off your native cuisine. He's got the date set up.
•”It's no biggie, I'm a native English speaker and I still can't get it right!”
Billy Lenz:
•Billy 100% understands the struggle of finding the right word to say
•He can't stop stuttering himself, so when you start stuttering you kind of reinforce us in his brain that you were meant to be together
•He feels like he can bond with you over it, and even feel safer around you knowing that you also mess up
•the thing is if you start stuttering, he'll start stuttering. If you can't get it by God he will.
•”W-we can't bo-oth be wrong.”
Brahms Heelshire:
•this man will 100% try to learn your language as soon as he finds out you're a foreigner
•That man has a huge library, there's bound to be at least one book written in your mother tongue
•He spends a lot of time practicing your native language so he can speak to you more comfortably
•You already know he has children's learning books he'll pull out if you ask.
•Can't find the word you're looking for? He's already 10 books deep, he'll find it for you.
•Brahms is a well-educated man and he intends to use His years of learning to help
•If you want to take classes to better your English skills he will 100,000% throw money your way to do so.
Hannibal Lecter:
•Now Hannibal really understands
•He's a Lithuanian who learned English as a 10 year old
•He didn't struggle as much, But for the first couple of months you bet he was stumbling.
•If you're struggling with a word, He has a process of teaching you so you don't forget it again.
1) Identify what you're trying to say
2)Slowly begin to sound out the word
3)Have you recite the word a few times
4)He'll either teaches you a little tune to remember or he'll do something so you remember the moment
•Does it feel a little condescending? Yes. But it works
•He's also willing to pour an ungodly amount of money into your English education if you ask
•He'll even teach you himself in his spare time
Will Graham:
•Doesn't really know what to do, He's a bit awkward about it
•He'll also identify the word and repeat it a few times so you can get a better handle on it.
•He thinks it's a bit funny and a bit cute when you stutter or mispronounce something
•He will gently correct you and move on like nothing happened
The Lost Boys:
•holy fucking shit this is a cluster fuck, let's do this one by one
•David
-David, having been around a while, has picked up a couple languages.
-If he does know the language you're speaking he'll speak it back to you and guide you into English better than the other boys could
-If not, he'll just read your mind and tell you what you're trying to say. It's by far the easiest way to articulate what you mean.
•Dwayne
-Dwayne being just slightly younger than David has also picked up a couple languages
-It's really the same if he does know your language But with a little more verbal teaching
-If he doesn't he'll patiently wait until you figure out what you're trying to say.
•Paul
-as soon as you start to stutter over yourself Paul starts shotgunning words off
-some slightly related to the situation and others wildly out there
-”Drink? Food? Ocean? Horse? The unforgiving eyes of God and His kingdom???”
-he'll do this to confuse you and have a nice laugh
•Marko
-Marko speaks English and Italian, so if your language isn't one of those two you're kind of shit out of luck
-”Come on babe, you'll get it”
-He finds it a bit funny but still tries to help in little ways
Thanks for reading <3
Sorry if this seems hastily written together, I haven't had the request in a while so I kind of jumped at the opportunity.
#the lost boys x reader#slashers#micheal myers#billy loomis#stu macher#thomas hewitt#bubba sawyer#bo sinclair#vincent sinclair#lester sinclair#billy lenz#brahms heelshire#nbc hannibal#hannibal lecter#will graham x reader#the lost boys#david the lost boys#dwayne the lost boys#paul the lost boys#marko the lost boys#slashers x reader#fluff#sfw#horror movies
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Starting Over: Chapter 5 - Better
Mob!Bucky x Female Reader
Series Masterlist
When Bucky throws you out of the house for a betrayal and won't listen to your side of the story, you know the only way out is through - it's time to start over. Maybe this was never going to be your happy ending.
Hi! I'm sorry this took so long, work has been kicking my bum lately and I haven't had much writing time. But it's here - the final part! I hope you like it. Thanks to everyone who has reblogged/commented/engaged with this story - it means so much. Thank-you!!
💔
One week later…
You were cleaning tables when you glanced at the diner’s clock and realised it was almost 9am. Friday was here once again…
…Would he be in as usual?
It was raining heavily outside, throughout the early shift your regulars had rushed in and shaken the sogginess off their coats and umbrellas once they were safely over the threshold of the diner. You’d chatted with them, commiserating with them about ‘this damn weather’ and promising to warm them up with coffee and breakfast.
You’d spent your time off this last week popping into the hospital to see Lou. He was doing well, making progress, but the road to recovery was long. He needed to make major adjustments to his lifestyle and potentially engage in physical therapy as they think he’d also had a small stroke. He got his personal mail delivered to the diner and asked you to open it and keep him updated with anything pressing. The medical bills you’d seen were already dizzying and his insurance only covered part of it, but you couldn’t bother him what that just yet – he didn’t need the stress on top of everything else. You’d figure it out. You always did.
Lou had made you acting manager to pick up the slack while he was gone. You were pulling extra hours, working overtime to ensure the ship remained afloat while the captain remained on the shore. It was tough, but you couldn’t deny you loved the buzz of being in charge – of keeping everything moving.
You hadn’t seen Bucky since that night at the hospital. He’d insisted on driving you home after you’d said goodbye to Lou, ignoring your protests that the subway was perfectly fine…
“The subway, doll? Fuck no. Not on my watch”.
You’d rolled your eyes, knowing you didn’t have the energy to fight him after the evening you’d had. He knew it too. You’d merely sighed and hopped into the back of his SUV as you gave him your new address, giving a little wave to Clint who was driving.
The two of you sat in the back in silence for the entire journey, you watched the city flying past you from the window and it felt strange that the outside world was just continuing around you like normal while yours had almost collapsed.
The car rolled to a stop in front of your building, and you turned to Bucky. He seemed to be studying you carefully, concern drawn across his features. Even after all this time and distance, the beauty of his face still took your breath away at times.
“Thank-you…for the ride. For dinner. For showing up…all of it,” you said softly.
He nodded stoically, “always. Look…no matter what happens between us, I’ll always show up for you if you need me. Any time, any place. And Lou is going to be just fine, alright?”
Almost instinctively you found your hand sliding across the leather of the seat towards him. He looked down as your hand moved to find his. You clasped your fingers around his metal digits, the cool sensation against your skin was something you hadn’t felt in a long time. They in turn wrapped around yours and the two of you sat holding hands for a short while. You didn’t speak or look at each other, just both existing in the moment and concentrating on the feeling of your hands entwined. You paused, wanting to say more – but unable to quite find the words.
Eventually you couldn’t bear the strange tension in the air. You gently withdrew your hand and cleared your throat as you shuffled across the seat towards the door.
“Well, thanks again. And for the ride, too”.
“Anytime. Nice building…” he peered out of the window at your apartment block.
“Ah yeah, thanks,” you said proudly.
“You doing okay, living there?” he asked quizzically in his Brooklyn-lilt, his brows furrowed.
“Mm…I mean, it’s not as fancy as your place,” you chuckled, “it’s kinda cramped and small, but it’s cosy and warm. And it’s mine,” you told him with fondness.
He smiled, but it didn’t quite meet his eyes. “My place was yours too, you know”.
You chewed on your lip, you hadn’t intended it as a slight against him. “I-I know Buck…but…you know what I meant”.
He nodded reluctantly. “Yeah…that’s good. I’m pleased for you, really”. His nose crinkled as he looked at you fondly. It was a little mannerism of his that you’d missed.
You shared a small smile before getting out of the car and heading inside. You couldn’t quite bring yourself to look back at the car, a storm of emotions fighting to escape you. Your fatigue mixed with your anxieties about Lou, confusion about this sudden shift with Bucky now swelling. You could tell from the quiet behind you that the car hadn’t pulled away yet, no doubt waiting until you were safely off the street. You put your key in the door and quickly moved inside.
That was last week. You hadn’t spoken to him since, although you’d wondered if you should reach out. You thought he might’ve been in touch – a text, a call, but nothing. It was nice, he was leaving the ball in your court and not crowding you, respecting the boundaries you’d established. But part of you couldn’t shake the small sense of disappointment that lingered, too.
The fact was you couldn’t deny that something was stirring. Bucky, who you’d long written off and blacklisted for his betrayal, had started to be on your mind more and more. He had crept back into your brain.
You didn’t believe the old adage that time healed all wounds, but it had certainly helped. The space you’d had from him a year on from the incident had allowed you to find yourself again, the parts that you hadn’t realised you’d lost after diving headfirst into your relationship with Bucky. You still felt immense pain when you thought about what happened…but you also thought about how he had been true to his word. He hadn’t tried to force you back, not aggressively pursuing you or trying to talk you round. His weekly mornings at the diner had never felt pointed or manipulative. You believed that he was just happy to have you in his life, like he’d said. You’d since found your own place, started therapy and looked at your own issues, thrown yourself into work. Remembered who you were before you were ‘mob boss girlfriend’. You knew that what had happened with Bucky was not your fault, it wasn’t your job to reflect and change accordingly – that was all his. But still, having the space and time to work on yourself…it was refreshing. One small silver lining on this ugly, black cloud.
You’d also been on a few dates over the last few months. Nothing to write home about. A few nice guys, a few less than nice guys. Nothing had truly sparked for you; nobody had piqued your interest enough to want to really explore more than a few dinners or coffees. Maybe it was because of how things ended with Bucky, or you just hadn’t met someone right for you, or maybe you were just off dating altogether…But it wasn’t something you felt real enthusiasm for at this point. But that was okay. It had been fun to dip your toe back in the dating pool, and you weren’t averse to trying again when the moment was right, or you met the right person.
Unless of course, it was because someone else was on your mind.
Your slow burn friendship with Bucky had crept on you, taken you by surprise. The man who had once broken your heart now had a new place in your life. It was strange, but in some ways, you knew him better than you had when you were together. Despite your previous connection - your conversations had opened territory up you’d never covered together before, previously too caught up in passion and heat to dive as deeply as you had now.
And most importantly, he had shown up for you that night at the hospital, been there for you without you needing to ask. He had brought you dinner and stayed by your side without a word, because he knew you needed not to be alone – needed support. You were touched by his care for you, his willingness to clear his schedule for you at the drop of a hat. It meant a lot. It meant everything. He had intuited how you felt and acted immediately. He was there.
You didn’t know what it meant, if anything. Something had changed, the safe barrier of diner breakfast chats had been crossed. Part of you was panicking – no! Don’t let him get close, not again! Remember what he did! But another part of you had missed him deeply, longed to hold him again and wake up to him each morning. Your thoughts were a spiralling mass of contradictions and conflict, nothing made sense.
You weren’t sure if you could ever truly forgive him for what happened.
But could you try?
Roscoe snapped you out of your thoughts as he passed you the latest batch mail on his way by. You thanked him, flicking through the junk mail until your attention was caught by the hospital logo on one of the envelopes. You winced, tentatively ripping open the paper as you braced yourself for the latest bill.
You cursed under your breath as you unveiled the total figure, a stupid amount of money. You spiralled as it sank in, wondering if Lou would have to sell the diner in order to settle his debt. You knew he didn’t have anywhere near enough in his savings. You thought about all the jobs that could be at stake, including yours, and your heart ached most of all knowing that the restaurant was Lou’s baby. It would break him to give it up.
Maybe you could call them, sort out a payment plan…something?
You tried to calm yourself down, thinking about what your therapist would say about your immediate jump to the worst-case scenario. Relax. You can fix this. Remember your mindfulness exercises. Life would find a way.
The opening of the front door pulled you from your catastrophising. You glanced over, making eye contact with a rather damp Bucky as he entered the diner. He sighed, shaking the rain from his coat as he scoffed and rolled his eyes.
“A lovely morning…” he muttered, deadpan.
You smiled, stuffing the hospital bill into your apron pocket and going to grab the coffee jug, “Morning, Buck. Get a little wet?”
“A little,” he gruffed, slotting himself into his usual booth.
You chuckled as you filled up his mug.
“How’s Lou?” he asked, shaking the rain from his hair.
“He’s doing better, thanks for asking. They’ve got a whole treatment plan worked out for him - so that’s positive”.
“Good. Glad to hear. You over here running the show while he’s out?”
“Something like that,” you smiled, then shuffled on your feet as you realised you needed to talk to him. “Bucky, I-”
A loud clatter and exclamation from the kitchen cut you off, causing you both to look over at the disturbance. You sighed with exasperation.
“Ah. Duty calls…I’ll put your order in while I’m in there”.
You rushed off to sort out whatever mess waited for you in the kitchen as Bucky smiled playfully at your annoyance.
He noticed something had fallen out of your apron as you dashed off. A piece of paper. He leaned over to pick it off the floor for you in case you needed it. Before he realised it was private and had a chance to look away, his eyes were immediately drawn to the monstrous sum at the bottom of the page. Ah. He grimaced as he quickly put two and two together, folding the paper neatly and leaving it on the table. He took a sip of his coffee.
You appeared a little while later with his order, sighing heavily as you placed the plate in front of him.
“Sorry about that…Roscoe and Ron were fighting about if the bacon was too crispy, and some trays got caught up in the carnage. Never a dull moment around here…”
You suddenly noticed the paper on the table, your words trailing off as your eyes locked onto it. You snatched it away quickly, shoving it into your apron.
“That’s not…that’s-” you floundered, embarrassed for him to have seen it.
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to snoop. You dropped it, so I picked it up and then realised what it was,” he explained softly.
“It’s fine. I’m dealing with it,” you shrugged, desperate to appear nonchalant.
“Sit down, doll”, he said sternly.
You scoffed, “Bucky…I’m busy running a restaurant here…”
He paused, looked up and bellowed across the diner, “Roscoe! Ron! Handle things while your boss takes a break!”
You rolled your eyes, turning to see Roscoe and Ron nodding furiously as they scattered and suddenly started working harder than you’d ever seen them. They had always been afraid of Bucky. You stifled a laugh.
“Problem solved, now sit,” he gestured.
You reluctantly sat down opposite him, “Bucky…”
“We’re gonna talk”.
“I don’t need-”
“No. Let’s do this”, he said sternly.
You folded your arms in front of you, fully aware that you resembled a petulant teenager but not caring enough to stop.
Bucky cleared his throat, taking a sip of his coffee before picking up the letter. “Now, I don’t want to overstep…but I can take care of this you know…”
You shook your head. “No. Thanks for the offer, but no,” you told him firmly.
“Alright. That’s fine. So, Lou has enough to cover it?” he asked, “all of it?”
You nodded a bit too quickly, “mmhmm”.
Bucky caught it immediately, your lie. You noticed the quirk of his brow and the subtle rubbing of his lips together. Damn him.
“Well, that’s a relief,” he sipped his coffee again and ate a few forkfuls of his meal, then wiped his mouth with a napkin and tilted his head quizzically. “Guess it’s all wrapped up, then”.
You nodded again in agreement, but knew he wasn’t done.
He took his time, casually taking a few more bites of his breakfast and sipping his coffee. You knew his relaxed demeanour was a careful façade…you had somehow found yourself at the centre of a famed Bucky Barnes interrogation.
You tried to appear relaxed, as if you had nothing more to add.
“Because…” he started.
Ugh.
“…because, if he didn’t have enough. That would be a problem, wouldn’t it?”
“Mmm. It would. But it’s not…so…”
“Right”, he cut you off. “But if he didn’t – great eggs today by the way – if he didn’t, that would be putting this place at risk, right? All the staff here and their jobs. Your job?”
“Right,” you replied, your voice a little strained.
“And of course Lou himself…he loves this place. It’s his baby. I’m sure he’d be devastated if he had to give it up to pay his medical bills. Especially as the last thing he needs right now is more stress and financial worries on top of his ill health”. He paused again to eat, not even looking up.
You nodded; your eyes now slightly cloudy now.
“Yep…” you said meekly.
He looked up at you, his eyes intensely locked onto yours, gesturing towards you with the fork. He was in full swing now. The diner suddenly felt much hotter, you could feel tiny beads of sweat forming on your forehead and the back of your neck.
“And I hope it would be known, if that was the case of course, that my offer would have no strings attached. Because I could imagine someone might decline it out of pride, or concern that it would have conditions and that person would then be in some sort of debt to me…either financially or emotionally. And if that was the case, I’d want to reassure them that it would only be a friend looking out for a friend, helping because I want to, and I can, and God knows I should do something nice once in a while to even out my moral scales…”
The barrier broke and your tears finally escaped, the stress about Lou and this intimidating bill, and your confusion about how you felt for Bucky, all finally coming to the surface. You cupped your face in your hands as you quietly sobbed.
“I’m sorry, I just…I…”
Bucky moved like lightning, whipping around to your side of the booth as he swung in next to you.
“Hey…hey, it’s okay. I’m sorry,” he said softly, “I didn’t mean to upset you. I just wanted to be clear what my offer entailed; but I understand why you’d be reluctant to accept my help”.
He pulled a few napkins from the dispenser and tenderly wiped away your tears.
“It wouldn’t be a loan, doll, and you wouldn’t need to make nice with me to say thanks. You could call me an asshole and dump these eggs on my head, and I’d still pay in full with a smile. There’s no expectation here, no contract – legal or implied”.
You sniffed, looking up at him blearily, “you’d really do all that for me…but…why?”
He paused, then very delicately used his thumb to collect the tears forming at the side of your eye.
“You know why,” he said plainly.
Your heart panged, and you looked down at your hands in your lap, clutching at one of the now-soggy napkins he’d given you. You sniffed again as you regained your composure, suddenly feeling exposed in front of him. The two of you stared at one another for a few moments and you were so desperate to tell him everything, but you couldn’t form the words. You hoped he would elaborate and fill in that gap for you, but he didn’t.
He quietly got up, putting on his coat and placing some bills down on the table to cover his check. He leaned over and kissed you on the crown of your head, then used a finger to tilt your chin up to look at him.
“You don’t have to decide anything now,” he told you as he looked into your eyes, “Think it over. I’ll be back here next week like always”.
He smiled at you, then disappeared out into the street. You heard the roaring of the rain outside as the diner door opened, the little bell above the frame chiming to announce his departure.
You missed him already.
You looked down at the hospital bill in your hands, the total at the bottom practically screaming from the page.
He’d hurt you so badly, you weren’t sure if you could ever fully forgive him for that fateful night. You understood it had been his insecurities, you understood he had lashed out after he thought his worst fears were realised – but that had only even explained his actions, not justified them.
Although…he’d always been there over the last year. Slow and steady, but he’d taken the time to rebuild his relationship with you platonically. He’d let you manage the pace, never tried to force anything more than you were willing to give him.
…and he’d been there for you.
He continued to be there for you.
It wasn’t about the money. He wasn’t trying to pay you off to win favour. He was just trying to be there for you, and this was something he had the power and resources to help you with.
He was your friend.
He loved you. He’d continued to love you…
“Are you back off break, boss?” Roscoe rudely interrupted your train of thought, “Ron said that the fryer-”
You were pulling off your apron before your brain could even catch up with your body.
“Nope,” you shot back, firing out of the booth at full speed as you tossed the apron at him on your way out, “a little longer…”
You left Roscoe gawping in your wake as you sailed through the front door. You yelped in shock as you stepped out into the downpour, you’d forgotten about the mini storm happening beyond the restaurant doors. It was so dark outside it looked more like early evening than the morning hours. You looked down at your immediately soaked uniform, your work shoes flooding as you traipsed through the puddles…
Focus!
You surveyed the street, your eyes catching a brief glimpse of the SUV turning the corner. The instantly recognisable JBB107 plates drawing your focus in the split second before they vanished.
And so you ran.
You sprinted after the SUV waving your arms, shouting for it to stop. A concerned elderly lady asked if you were okay but you sailed on by. You must’ve looked utterly insane.
You rounded the corner and rushed up behind the SUV as it slowed. The back door flew open, and Bucky suddenly appeared out of it, a look of horror on his face as the vehicle pulled over.
“Doll! Jesus Christ, what the- are you okay??” he shouted to you as you approached.
You didn’t answer, just flung yourself inside the car as you desperately tried to catch your breath. Bucky slid across the seat to give you room. The divider screen was up so you couldn’t see the driver. One less person to witness your mortifying display, at least.
“Fuck…you must be freezing,” he muttered as he pulled off his jacket, wrapping it around your shoulders and leaning over to close the car door behind you.
You were, your teeth chattered. Your hair was wet and matted, your uniform soaked through.
“Bucky…” you said hoarsely as you dripped all over his plush car interior.
“What is it, doll?” he asked, his eyes wide and alarmed, “what’s going on??”
You couldn’t find the words so you acted purely on instinct, you cupped his face and kissed him. Kissed him hard. Kissed him longingly. He caught up quickly and kissed you back, his fingers tangled in your soaking hair. It was desperate, messy. Your teeth clashed and your cheeks bumped. It had been so long that you’d lost each other’s rhythm with this. But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. You couldn’t have waited any longer.
He pulled away, gawping at you incredulously as he held your face in his hands.
“Doll…does this mean?”
“Let’s go slow,” you whispered, “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. The effort you’ve put into rebuilding us from the ground up…for being my friend…for never pushing me…for Lou…but I’m not sure I’m ready to jump into this headfirst…whatever this is…”
He nodded, “of course, anything you want”.
“I’m not sure if I can…fully forgive. But I want to try,” you told him softly as you pressed your forehead to his.
He wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly as he sighed. A sigh of long held tension, of relief.
“Thank-you for giving me a chance…I didn’t think you ever would again,” he admitted.
“Yeah…well neither did I,” you laughed,
“What changed your mind?”
“Well…. how you showed up for me with Lou has made me rethink a lot of things. Plus…the money”.
He laughed, “the money? Really? This whole time I just needed to pay you off?”
“No…”, You rolled your eyes, “it was more that you offered, but you didn’t force anything, and you made it clear it was no strings attached. It’s like…you want to help me, but you trust me to make my own decisions and don’t just try and fix it all for me, like you used to. I just…it made me realise how much I’ve missed you. But it’s gotta be different this time…”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah…like…I want to stay in my apartment. And I want to keep my job,” you said firmly.
He nodded, “yeah. Of course”.
“Maybe I’d move back in with you one day…but I want my space”.
“Okay. You got it,”.
You smiled, “yeah?”
He smiled back at you, the smile that still made you weak at the knees. “Doll? If it means you’re by my side…Of course ‘yeah’. Anything you want. And I have some conditions too…”
“What?” you frowned. “This isn’t exactly a two-way negotiation, Buck…”
“Just…listen. They’re conditions for me. I promise I’m going to trust you entirely, and to communicate you with you properly – not let my emotions get the best of me. I’m a different man to who I was the last time we were together. I know how lucky I am to get this second chance with you. I’m not fucking it up. I'm gonna be...better”.
He spoke earnestly with such conviction that it was almost aggressive. You nodded gently, squeezing his hand. You believed him.
“Alright…well, let’s give it a shot, shall we?”
He grinned, “I can’t believe you’re here…”
“Me neither. But…I’m sorry I’m dripping rainwater all over your car”.
He shrugged. “Fuck the car”.
And then he kissed you again.
Maybe you did believe in happy endings.
THE END
There we have it! I hope you liked where it went. I know some of you didn't think she should ever forgive him and I understand, and I'm sorry if you're disappointed! But in my eyes he had shown her he was willing to change...and she wasn't trying to rush back into anything heavy. Thank you for reading!
If you liked this story, please consider supporting me with my Ko-Fi link 💐
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omg i have a question for the bitchy carlos fic -
so nicole piastri came on red flags podcast recently and spoke about oscar and his childhood, what if there’s an au segment of her talking about older piastri & what would his reaction be
okay this turned out being way longer than intended bc i added the scene of carlos and nicole meeting bc why not, i hope i'm not annoying you with too much little bitch content, i'll promise i'll post for other drivers now READ LITTLE BITCH HERE
Host: "So, Nicole, we've heard a lot about Oscar's journey to F1, but what can you tell us about his relationship with his sister, YN? She has quite the personality online, doesn't she? Can you tell us about their relationship growing up?
Nicole:"Oh, those two. They've always had such a special bond. YN is a few years older than Oscar and yes, she's known as the Piastri who fights people online, but she's always been fiercely protective of him. From the moment YN first held Oscar as a baby, she appointed herself his protector. It was adorable and sometimes a bit much, but always came from a place of love.
Host: Can you give us an example?
Nicole: "When Oscar was about six and YN was maybe nine. Oscar had just started school and was having trouble making friends. He was quite shy back then, if you can believe it. One day, YN overheard some kids teasing Oscar in the playground."
Host: "Oh no, what happened?"
Nicole: "Well, YN marched right up to those boys and she told them off in no uncertain terms. She said, and I quote, 'My brother is going to be a famous race car driver one day, and you'll all be asking for his autograph. So you'd better be nice to him now!' The boys were so shocked they just stood there with their mouths open."
Host:"That's amazing! Did it help Oscar?"
Nicole: "It did, actually. Oscar was so impressed by his big sister standing up for him that it gave him a confidence boost. And you know what? Some of those boys ended up becoming his good friends. They still joke about YN's 'prophecy' coming true now that Oscar's in F1."
Host: "That's such a heartwarming story! It's clear YN has always been protective of Oscar. Now, speaking of relationships, we've heard that YN is dating Carlos Sainz. Can you tell us a bit about how that came to be?"
Nicole: "Oh, that's an interesting story! YN actually told us she was dating Carlos a while back, but we weren't surprised at all. We knew she liked him since that time in Singapore last year when our family visited. YN was trying so hard to act mad about Carlos' win, but it was obvious she was impressed."
Host: "So you had suspicions before they even got together?"
Nicole: "Absolutely! Even before that Singapore trip, YN used to go on these multiple rants about, in her words, 'this arrogant Spaniard' who kept pushing Oscar off track. She called him something I won't repeat but I'm pretty sure everyone knows it, it absolutely irritated her. But you know what? We all knew that deep down, she had a crush on him."
Host: "That's quite the turnaround! Have you met Carlos — as YN’s partner this time — yet?"
Nicole: "I haven’t, actually. I’m hoping to do that in Baku after the summer break. But I can see Carlos brings out a softer side of YN that we don't often see in public. Don't get me wrong, she's still fiercely stubborn and outspoken, but with Carlos, there's this gentleness that comes out. He seems to really understand and appreciate her passion, and he's not intimidated by her strong personality at all. In fact, he seems to admire it."
Host: "It sounds like they complement each other well. How has Oscar taken to their relationship?"
Nicole: "Oscar's been very supportive. I think he appreciates seeing his sister happy, and of course, it doesn't hurt that Carlos is someone he respects on the track. It's actually quite funny to see YN now, cheering for both Oscar and Carlos during races. She's always torn between wanting Oscar to win and not wanting Carlos to lose."
Host: "That's nice, Carlos sounds like quite the gentleman. Has YN picked up any Spanish since they started dating?"
Nicole: "Oh, that's actually a funny story. We love to tease YN about this. You see, she failed Spanish in high school - couldn't conjugate a verb to save her life. And now here she is, dating a Spaniard! Carlos has been trying to teach her, but let's just say it's a work in progress. She can now order a beer and ask where the bathroom is, so I suppose that's progress!"
Host: "That's hilarious! I'm sure she'll be fluent in no time."
Nicole: "Bless her, she's really trying. She's determined to have a full conversation with Carlos' parents in Spanish by the end of the year. We'll see how that goes!"
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ynpiastri our queen is here !! and no one is ready
tagged: nicolepiastri
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username1 NICOLE PIASTRI IS THE MOMENT
username2 SLAY THE HOUSE BOOTS DOWN
mclaren Icon 🧡
lilyzneimer the besttttt 💓
username3 IS SHE MEETING CARLOS ??
username4 oh i can’t wait to see our queen giving carlos a run for his money again
landonorris Coolest ever
↳ ynpiastri her favorite will always be yuki don’t even try it
↳ username1 HEEEELP
yukitsunoda5511 Nicole is brat
↳ username2 I LOVE THEM 😭
oscarpiastri I’m ready, your boyfriend however…
↳ username3 LOOOOORDDD
↳ username1 POOR CARLOS
↳ ynpiastri leave him alone 😤😤
Baku had a special energy during race weekends. The tight streets and high-pressure atmosphere gave you a mixture of excitement and nerves, but today, the butterflies in your stomach had nothing to do with the Grand Prix. Instead, it was about the lunch you were about to have, where Carlos would meet your mom—officially, as your boyfriend this time.
You walked through the paddock with Carlos by your side, his hand wrapped around yours. Oscar was a few steps ahead, casually walking toward the hospitality area where no other than Nicole Piastri waited. She had met Carlos briefly before, like many of the other drivers, but this was different. He wasn’t just a name on the grid anymore—he was the man you were dating, and Carlos seemed to be nervous about the meeting.
"You think she likes me?" Carlos adjusted his hat for what felt like the hundredth time, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.
"Carlos, she’s going to love you," you couldn’t help but smile at his nerves, "She already does. But, you know... as a mum, she's entitled to give you a little hard time."
"That’s what I’m worried about," Carlos chuckled, but his smile was still tight, "I just want to make a good impression, you know?"
"You will," you assured him, squeezing his hand. "Just be yourself."
Oscar slowed down, overhearing your conversation and grinning like he already knew how this would play out. "Mum’s gonna grill you, mate," he teased, throwing a glance back at Carlos. "She’s been waiting for this."
"Not helping, Oscar," you muttered, giving your brother a playful shove. He just smirked, clearly enjoying himself.
When you finally reached the hospitality tent, your mom was already seated at a table, smiling warmly as she saw you all approach. She stood up to greet you, wrapping you in a familiar hug before turning to Carlos with that same welcoming smile—though you knew there was a glint of mischief behind it.
“Carlos, it’s so good to see you again,” she greeted, shaking his hand.
"It’s great to see you too, Mrs. Piastri," Carlos said, his polite smile fixed on his face. His Spanish charm was dialed up a notch, but you could still feel the slight tension in his grip as he held your hand.
“Please, call me Nicole,” she said, taking her seat again. “I’m not that formal, especially not with my daughter’s boyfriend.”
As you all settled into your seats, you couldn't help but notice the amused glances Oscar and your mom were exchanging. You knew that look—they were up to something.
"So," Nicole began, her eyes twinkling with mischief, "how long have you two been together again?"
You glanced at Carlos, who seemed to relax a bit as he answered, "About two months officially, right, cariño?"
You nodded, but before you could add anything, your mom raised an eyebrow. "And unofficially?"
"Mum!" you said as you felt your cheeks heat up.
Oscar, who had taken a seat across from you, let out a low chuckle, clearly enjoying the show. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, watching the dynamic unfold.
"That’s what I thought," she teased, making Oscar let out a loud laugh.
You felt your face grow even hotter as your mom's implications hung in the air. Carlos, to his credit, managed to maintain his composure, though you noticed a slight redness creeping up his neck.
"Well," Carlos cleared his throat, his accent a bit thicker than usual, "I think it's safe to say we've known each other for quite some time now."
"Oh, I remember. You two weren't exactly friendly at first, were you?"
"That's putting it mildly, Mum," Oscar snorted, "Remember the time she came home absolutely fuming after a race? She was ranting about 'that little bi—'"
"Oscar!" you cut him off, "We don't need to relive that."
Carlos squeezed your hand under the table, clearly amused. "No, please, I'd love to hear about this."
"Oh mate, you should've heard her," Oscar spoke again, "'Carlos this, Carlos that.' I swear, she talked about you more when she hated you than she does now."
"I did not!" you protested, but your brother's knowing smirk told you he wasn't buying it.
"It's true," your mum added, her eyes dancing with laughter. "I remember thinking, 'This girl protests too much.' I had a feeling even then that all that anger was hiding something else."
You groaned, hiding your face in your hands. "I can't believe this is happening."
Carlos wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. "It's okay, hermosa. I love to hear these stories."
You looked up at him, seeing the warmth in his eyes. It was hard to believe that those same eyes had once glared at you across the paddock.
Nicole smiled, watching the two of you with that familiar mom look—part teasing, part proud. "Well, now look at you. I guess all that bickering was just a cover-up for how much you liked each other."
"You’ve gone soft," Oscar rolled his eyes dramatically. "I kinda miss the days when you’d call each other names."
"Don’t worry," you muttered, giving Carlos a playful glare. "He’s still a little bitch sometimes."
Carlos laughed, his arm tightening around you as he kissed the top of your head. "And you’re still my favorite enemy turned girlfriend."
Your mom let out a satisfied sigh, leaning back in her chair. "I knew it all along."
#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz fanfiction#carlos sainz blurb#carlos sainz smau#carlos sainz x yn#carlos sainz angst#f1 x reader#f1 fanfiction#cs55 x reader#formula 1 fanfiction#formula 1 reader#carlos sainz imagine#harrysfolklore#cs55 fic#carlos sainz fic#f1 fic#f1 grid x reader#formula 1#carlos sainz#oscar piastri x reader#little bitch
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Speaking of Bad Takes Havers and Stupid Arguments, scrolled by one that was effectively "trans guys who talk about transandrophobia should instead practice posting pictures of older passing trans men but they won't because of their fantasies of never passing"
And like. First of all. I do that. I've posted multiple older, passing trans men. I talk about my trans guy friends who pass perfectly all the time? I pass like 80-90% of the time nowadays?
But I also know trans men- binary trans men who are absolutely putting in the effort to pass as binary cis men- who do not pass and have been on T for significantly longer than I have been. I've been on T for a year and a half and I pass fairly well nowadays. I have a friend who has been on T for over 10 years who does not. I had more beard and more growth and more masculine features and frame pre-T than he does 10 years on T, post-op, medically transitioning far younger than me. That's... honestly one of the points? Not everyone is so lucky.
And not everyone desires my outcome, and it's *weird* seeing this argument over and over because honestly it just sounds like transmedicalism. The only valid trans guys are the ones that are binary male and pass perfectly for cis and have been on T for years and have done every single surgery possible. Sorry but that's not a lot of people's realities, and it's just plain not feasible for many people either. We're just going to leave these people behind because their journey doesn't match ours??? Really???
It's so bizarre to see someone constantly going "skill issue" when faced with someone else who does not pass. Some people are never going to pass. It doesn't make them any less trans or any less of whatever gender they say they are. How can you call yourself part of the trans community when you're spitting on people less fortunate or with different priorities than you?
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Too Late To Dream ༓ jjk (m) I Epilogue: Stargaze
✑ Summary: The topic of starting a family has been a vulnerable subject for both of you, especially over the past year as you've struggled to conceive. But tonight, under the blanket of the twinkling sky, your love proves stronger as neither of you is willing to give up hope just yet —and maybe you won't have to.
Pairing: economics professor!jungkook x fem!artist!reader
AU/Genre: angst, fluff, smut, marriage au, slice of life
Rating: M, 18+
Word Count: 4k+
Warnings: 8-year age gap, professor-student relationship (oc was a Masters student), swearing, mentions of past apprehensions of fatherhood, mentions of difficult past, pregnancy journey, and some sexual/suggestive content
Sexual/suggestive warnings: swearing, kissing (making out, neck kisses, etc), hair tugging/playing, sentimental tears, mention of pregnant s*x/c*ming
Now Playing: Heaven by Bryan Adams
a/n: About a year ago I started a series that I'm sure a decent amount of my readers are familiar with. It's one that will always stay close to my heart because of its very nature....it's simply touching for me. Anyway, I've owed everyone, including myself, an epilogue for quite some time. This can be read as a stand-alone, but I do recommend reading the series if you wish to have more context, etc.
Hope you enjoy 🥰
Series Masterlist | Requests: closed | Taglist | Fic Recs
Tonight, under the vast canopy of stars in the late summer night sky, you feel a peacefulness in your heart as you lie beside your husband of three years on a soft blanket spread out in the backyard.
The air is cool with the scent of freshly cut grass, and the stars shimmer like diamonds above you. You and Jungkook have always loved stargazing together—it's a cherished ritual that brings you closer, grounding you in the beauty and wonder of the universe.
"Look," Jungkook murmurs, pointing towards a particularly bright star. "That one's so bright tonight."
You follow his gaze, smiling softly. "Yeah, it's beautiful."
Jungkook turns to you, his eyes reflecting the starlight. "This is my favorite place to be with you, you know?”
“Mine too,” you reply, snuggling closer to him.
The gentle rustling of leaves fills the silence for a few moments before Jungkook speaks again.
“I’ve been thinking…about us, about our future," he starts.
Your heart skips a beat, sensing the weight of his words. "What about our future?"
"I want us to keep trying to build our family," he says earnestly, his fingers gently intertwining with yours. "I know it hasn't been easy, and we expected to be pregnant months ago, but I believe our time will come."
The topic of starting a family has been a vulnerable subject for both of you, especially over the past year as you've struggled to conceive. It's been filled with tender moments and heartaches, each negative test a painful reminder of the journey.
Countless visits to Dr. Kim for advice and reassurances couldn’t fill the void left by each disappointment. Yet, through it all, neither of you could let the anticipation and hope that have woven themselves into the fabric of your days and nights diminish.
"I believe it too, Kook," you reply, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you squeeze his hand.
He turns to face you fully, his gaze searching yours. "I've wrestled with the idea of becoming a father in the past because of my own doubts and fears. But now, I can't wait to be a father, with you by my side. Even if more challenges await us, I want to share this journey with you, every step of the way."
A surge of emotion wells up inside you as memories of the past two years together start flashing through your mind. It was after an unexpectedly sweet encounter with a toddler at the park while painting, that you first brought up the idea of having children to Jungkook. He was initially apprehensive, recalling that neither of you had considered children when you first married for various reasons. But he loved you deeply, so he promised to be open to the idea.
Together, you agreed that rushing into such a significant decision as having a baby wouldn't be wise, considering it was an entirely new venture for both of you. However, over time, through therapy sessions, ongoing exposure to children, and heartfelt discussions, you both gradually felt more prepared and ready to finally welcome this new chapter in your life.
"Jungkook, I…," you pause, knowing that what you're about to share is something you've been bottling up all day, a dream waiting for the perfect moment to be revealed. "I have a feeling things might be different this time."
His eyes widen in surprise, a spark of curiosity igniting within them. "What do you mean?"
You take a deep breath, your voice trembling with mixed emotions. "I mean... today, I took a test. It was positive."
Jungkook's breath catches in his throat, excitement dancing in his eyes before quickly filling with tears of joy. "You mean...?"
You nod, a couple of tears streaming down your cheeks. "Yes, Kook. We're going to have a baby."
In an instant, Jungkook pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest. His laughter mingles with your tears as you cling to each other, overwhelmed with happiness.
"I can't believe it," he whispers, pressing a kiss on top of your head. "We're going to be parents."
You nod against his shoulder, the news feeling just as surreal to you as it does to him. "Together, Kook. We're going to be parents."
As you lie under the starlit sky, wrapped in each other's arms and the promise of a new life growing within you, you know that this night will forever be etched in your hearts.
"I love you, and I can't wait to meet our baby," Jungkook says softly, placing a gentle hand on your stomach.
"I love you too." Cradling his face in your hands, you lean in and press your lips gently against his.
With the first month of your pregnancy underway, joy overwhelms you as you and Jungkook share the news with close family and friends.
"I can't believe it! You're finally joining the parent club," Yoongi teases, a mischievous glint in his eye as he recalls his own experience with twin girls. "Get ready for sleepless nights and endless diaper changes."
Taehyung chimes in eagerly, "And I demand to be their godfather! I'll teach your child everything about art and creativity."
"Hey, I think I can handle that part pretty well myself," you playfully interject, gesturing to your personal artwork hanging on the walls.
Taehyung grins, "I suppose you have a point there. But seriously, if you ever need help with anything, you know I'm here."
Jungkook chuckles warmly and pats Taehyung on the shoulder. "Thanks, man. That means a lot."
Yoongi smirks, leaning back in his chair. "Your kid will have the best of both worlds Jungkook—__'s artistic flair and your… well, whatever you bring to the table."
"Muscles," you say with a cheeky smirk. "He'll bring the muscles."
The second month arrives fast, but it's not as cheery as the first. Morning sickness kicks in full force, testing your patience and resilience.
Jungkook becomes your pillar of support, always ready with ginger tea and comforting words.
"You're doing great, sweetheart," he reassures you, rubbing your back gently as you rest your head against his shoulder.
"I feel terrible," you admit, tears welling up in your eyes. "I just wish our baby was already here."
"We'll get through this together," Jungkook says softly, planting a kiss on your forehead. "And hey, at least we're getting really good at making ginger tea!"
You manage a weak laugh, grateful to have him by your side.
By the third month, your bump begins to show. Despite your mixed feelings about your changing body, you can't help but feel wonder and amazement at the miracle growing inside you.
"Look at this," Jungkook whispers, gently placing his hand on your belly. "Our little one is growing so fast."
You glance down at his hand, then back up at him with a soft smile. "I know. It's incredible, isn't it? Sometimes it feels like just yesterday we found out. I can't wait to meet them."
Jungkook nods, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Me too. I want to teach them everything I know. I wonder what they'll be like."
You chuckle softly, imagining the possibilities. "Who knows? Maybe they'll have your sense of adventure and my love for creativity. Or maybe they'll be completely different from both of us, which will be okay too."
He grins, pressing a gentle kiss on your belly. "We'll love them no matter what, no doubt about it."
It's the fourth month when you feel your energy returning and renewed optimism as morning sickness subsides. You and Jungkook take walks in the park, hand-in-hand, discussing baby names and nursery decor.
"I think we should go with a woodland theme for the nursery," Jungkook suggests, swinging your intertwined hands as the crisp autumn leaves crunch beneath your feet.
"Sounds perfect," you agree, smiling at his enthusiasm. "We could have little animal decorations and maybe even a mural of a forest. Taehyung hasn't been subtle about wanting to paint the room for us."
"Definitely," Jungkook replies, his eyes bright with excitement. "He'd probably add his own artistic touch too, knowing him."
You chuckle softly, imagining Taehyung's vibrant and whimsical style adorning the nursery walls. "That would be amazing. Our baby would have the most creative room ever."
As you walk, you discuss more details—what kind of crib to get, whether to use soft pastels or earthy tones, and even what kind of mobile would best fit the woodland theme. Jungkook talks about how he wants to try building some of the furniture himself, adding a personal touch to the nursery.
"I want our baby to know how much love went into creating their space one day," he says, squeezing your hand gently.
"I can't wait to see it all come together," you sigh.
Jungkook stops walking and pulls you into a gentle hug, resting his chin on top of your head. "I can't wait either," he whispers.
“Hey,” you say softly, pulling back slightly from his embrace to meet his deep coffee-black eyes. “What would you say if we went home and did something we haven’t been able to do for a little while?”
You then wrap your arms around his neck with a playful smile.
"You mean…sex?” Your husband's eyes widen as he begins to grasp the extent of your suggestion. “But would that be…”
“It’s safe,” you confirm, “Dr. Kim says it’s completely okay and lots of couples do it. No need to worry.”
Jungkook's prior concern washes away, replaced by shock the moment he hears the words drop from your lips. “You asked Seokjin about this?! Our friend?" His eyebrows knit together in confusion and mild disbelief.
“Well, why wouldn’t I?” You chuckle at how cute he looks. “He’s been our doctor for years, Kook. Why wouldn’t I ask him?”
“I know, but it’s…Seokjin.”
“Honey, come on,” you say, attempting to reason with the man. “Are you still mad at him for questioning your sexual ability all those months ago? When we asked his advice on how to increase our chances of conception? You know he didn’t mean it to be anything hurtful.”
“Maybe I’m still irritated about it,” Jungkook pouts. “I guess I’m being petty though. I know he was trying to help.”
“Well, in any case, he was wrong, wasn’t he?” You subtly gesture to your stomach. “Seeing as I’m pregnant with our baby.”
Jungkook's mood seems to lift again as his hands travel down to grip your waist. A playful grin spreads across his face. “I think we should go home now and see if we can prove him even more wrong. What would you say about us having twins?”
You laugh, easily reading between the lines. “Have you been talking to Kim Taehyung? It doesn’t work like that and you know it. You can’t just make love to me while I’m pregnant and expect two babies instead of one. B+ for effort though.”
“Damn, B+? You’re a tough grader, baby. Good thing I might know a thing or two of what you like to get that reaccessed.” He then kisses you before granting you a chance to respond, deepening it within a second.
You feel a tightening build in your core as his tongue smoothly invites itself to slip between the seam of your lips. And despite literally being in the middle of a park, you moan immediately, tugging at a few strands of his hair. A low groan elicits from him as you do this.
Thank god most of the people have left for dinner by now.
“No,” you suddenly mumble, breaking your heated kiss. “This isn’t how we like to do it. We need to go home. Please, let's go home, Kook.”
Jungkook merely smiles in response, takes your hand in his, and quickly leads you to the car where he drives you both home.
That night, as the brisk autumn wind howls outside, your husband doesn't hesitate to take the lead as he makes love to you with all of his being. And by the end of it all, when you both come, you can visibly see the dried tears on both of each other's cheeks.
"Looks like we're starting to turn into two cry babies," you break the silence first.
"I think so too," Jungkook replies, a tad bit breathless. "Is that okay?"
"Of course. As long as you're okay with it too."
"Can't think of a single reason for it not to be." Your husband buries his head in the crook of your neck, kissing your neck lightly. "I love you, __, so much if you couldn't already tell." He then looks at you and smiles, his eyes brimming with happiness.
"I love you too," you reply simply. "I always will."
In early December, during your fifth month of pregnancy, emotions run high as you start feeling the baby's first kicks. It's a touching reminder of the life growing within you, bringing tears of joy and occasional bouts of anxiety about the future.
"Feel that?" you ask Jungkook, taking his hand and placing it on your belly where the baby kicks again.
"Wow," he breathes, feeling the tiny nudges beneath his hand. "They're already making their presence known."
You nod, a mixture of excitement and nervousness swirling within you. "Seems like they're eager to join the party."
Jungkook grins, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I guess they heard about your cooking and couldn't wait. They've got good taste already."
You laugh softly, giving his hand a playful squeeze. "Let's hope they also inherit my better sense of direction."
He raises an eyebrow teasingly. "Hey, I've got great instincts."
You shake your head with mock seriousness. "You once got lost in our own neighborhood, Kook."
Jungkook feigns offense, but his smile widens. "Alright, fair point. But I promise I'll navigate parenthood better."
"It's a little bit scary, isn't it?" you say softly.
"It is," Jungkook admits, his grip on your hand tightening reassuringly. "But we'll figure it out together, like we always do."
In the sixth month, you and Jungkook find yourselves nervously seated in the ultrasound room, with you on the medical bed and Jungkook in a chair beside you. The doctor moves the wand over your belly. After a few moments of silence, the screen lights up with images of your baby. Both of you gasp in awe as you see your baby's tiny fingers and toes, their heart beating steadily.
"Everything looks perfectly healthy," the doctor announces warmly, pointing out different features and measurements. "Would you like to know the gender?"
You glance over at your husband, whose eyes are fixed intently on the screen. "What do you think?" you ask. "Do we want to know?"
Jungkook's gaze shifts from the screen to you, reflecting both eagerness and nervousness in his eyes. "I think… yes," he says finally, his voice filled with anticipation.
The doctor smiles warmly and adjusts the ultrasound wand, focusing on a specific area. "Well, it looks like you're having a…"
The suspense lingers in the air as the doctor takes a moment before revealing the gender of your baby. When they do, you and Jungkook can't help but grin at each other.
It’s a girl.
The reality of impending parenthood settles in deeper during the seventh month as you and Jungkook diligently attend prenatal classes together. The sessions are eye-opening, filled with valuable information, but they also serve as stark reminders of the challenges awaiting you both. There are moments of frustration and tears as you grapple with sleepless nights and discomfort.
"I'm so tired," you confess one evening, sinking into Jungkook's arms with a sigh, the weight of exhaustion evident in your voice.
Jungkook wraps his arms around you, offering a comforting embrace. "Well, they say parenthood is good practice for functioning on minimal sleep, right?"
You can't help but chuckle at his attempt to lighten the mood. "I think I need a lot more practice."
"You're doing an amazing job, baby," he assures you, his hands rubbing small, soothing circles on your back. "I'm truly in awe of you."
"Thanks, but I feel like a mess most of the time."
Jungkook shakes his head and gently guides you to look up at him. "If this is what a mess looks like, then I'll take it," he says softly, leaning in to steal a kiss.
In the eighth month, the physical strain of pregnancy becomes more apparent, introducing moments of fatigue and vulnerability. Everyday tasks like tying your shoes or putting a load of laundry in become increasingly challenging. However, with Jungkook as your husband, his attentive care shines through. He insists on handling all the chores without a second thought, from washing the dishes to preparing meals, often coaxing you to rest while he handles things.
"You really don't have to do all this," you protest with a weary smile as Jungkook scrubs a pot clean, his sleeves rolled up.
"I want to," he insists, flashing a reassuring grin over his shoulder.
You start to rise from the couch, still intent on helping, but Jungkook rushes over and gently guides you back onto the cushions. His touch is both firm and tender.
"Please, just relax, honey," he says softly, kneeling beside you. His hands find yours, warm and comforting, as he gives them a light kiss.
"But-" you begin, a hint of resistance in your voice as you look up at Jungkook.
"I know this isn’t easy," he says, his expression softening with understanding. "But let me take care of you, okay? I've got this."
You sigh, torn between wanting to ease his burden and accepting his offer of support. "I just feel like I should be doing more," you admit, your voice tinged with frustration.
Jungkook shakes his head, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. "You've already done so much," he reassures you, his gaze unwavering. "Let me handle things tonight. Tomorrow, we can tackle everything together again, okay?"
His words soothe the inner conflict within you, and you reluctantly nod, knowing he's right. "Okay," you concede softly, “Thank you.”
In the ninth month, you're surrounded by friends and family who gather at your house to celebrate your baby shower. The room is adorned with soft pastel decorations and delicate baby-themed accents, reflecting the joyous anticipation of your impending newborn.
"Look at you, all grown up and about to be a dad," Yoongi teases Jungkook, earning a playful swat on the arm from his wife.
Jungkook laughs, scratching the back of his head. "Yeah, I guess it's happening. Better start practicing my dad jokes, huh? Got any you haven’t used yet hyung?" He winks at Yoongi, who rolls his eyes in good-natured amusement.
Taehyung joins in, holding up a quirky baby outfit. "This would look adorable on your little one, don't you think?" he suggests with a grin, adding to the playful banter.
Jimin, always the entertainer, spins around the room, capturing everyone's attention. "I can't wait to spoil this baby rotten!" he exclaims with a mischievous grin, eliciting laughter from the group. "I'll be the best uncle ever, just you wait!"
Jungkook chuckles, wrapping an arm around you. "Yeah, we might have to keep an eye on Uncle Jimin's antics once this baby is born.”
Finally, the tenth month arrives, and you approach your due date with growing anticipation. One June morning, as you're bustling about the kitchen, an unfamiliar warmth between your legs startles you. Your heart skips a beat with excitement and a touch of nervousness as you realize what’s just happened.
"Jungkook!" you call out, trying to keep your voice steady.
Jungkook hurries into the kitchen, eyes widening as he sees the puddle on the floor. "Please tell me your water just broke and that's not just a spill," he says, his voice filled with a mix of concern and excitement.
You nod, feeling a rush of emotions. "I think so. We need to go to the hospital."
With swift action, Jungkook helps you gather your hospital bag and gently guides you to the car. The drive is filled with a mix of anticipation and supportive words from Jungkook, his hand firmly holding yours all the way. You focus on your breathing, trying to stay calm and centered as you prepare for the birth of your baby girl.
In the delivery room, surrounded by medical staff and with Jungkook by your side, you endure the intensity of labor. Hours pass in a whirlwind of effort and support, until finally, with a spirited cry, your baby girl enters the world.
As you hold her for the first time, a sense of overwhelming love washes over you both. "She's perfect," you whisper, tears of joy streaming down your cheeks.
Jungkook leans in for a quick peck before gently kissing your baby girl’s forehead. "Just like her mom," he murmurs, his voice filled with awe.
After much consideration, you both decide on the name Ara, a name that symbolizes beauty and grace, perfectly fitting for your precious daughter.
It's now mid-July, and the late afternoon sun bathes the living room in a soft, golden glow as Jungkook sways gently with Ara in his arms. It's hard to believe almost six weeks have passed since bringing your little angel home. Ara has recently started smiling, and you can't help but notice how much it resembles her father's. Her small frame seems even tinier against his broad chest now, her head nestled against his shoulder as if she were listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat.
Jungkook's movements are graceful and tender, his voice humming along to the lullaby as he continues dancing with your daughter. You lean against the doorway, a tender smile playing on your lips as you watch the scene unfold. Soft strains of a lullaby play in the background, blending with the sweet sound of your daughter's giggles while her tiny hands reach up to grasp Jungkook's fingers.
"Appa's dancing with you, sweetheart," you murmur, your voice filled with affection and pride.
Jungkook glances up, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of love and happiness. "She loves our little dance sessions, doesn't she?"
"She adores you," you reply softly, feeling a warm swell of love in your chest.
Seeing Jungkook, once uncertain about fatherhood due to his difficult past, now embracing your daughter with tenderness, fills you with pride. The love and devotion he pours into every sway speak volumes about the kind of father he has become – patient, nurturing, and utterly devoted.
As the lullaby reaches its gentle conclusion, Jungkook carefully lowers your daughter into her crib, tucking her in with a soft blanket. She coos softly, her eyelids fluttering as she settles into a peaceful sleep. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to us," he whispers before pressing a tender kiss to her forehead.
Later that evening, after a leisurely dinner, you find yourselves nestled on the couch in the cozy warmth of your living room. A single lamp in the far corner casts soft shadows across Jungkook's face as he idly traces patterns on your arm, lost in thought.
"Hey," you say softly, breaking the comfortable silence that envelops you. "What's on your mind?"
Jungkook looks at you, a faint smile playing on his lips. His eyes hold a glint of contemplation.
"I was thinking… about Ara."
You nod encouragingly, "What about her?"
"She's going to grow up so fast," Jungkook muses, his voice laced with a hint of sentiment. "And… I can't help but imagine her with a little brother or sister someday."
Your heart skips a beat at his words, a rush of emotions flooding through you. "You've been thinking about another baby?"
Jungkook nods, his gaze searching yours for understanding and reassurance. "Yeah. I mean, not right now, of course. But… in the future. I think Ara would love having a sibling to grow up with."
A soft smile graces your lips as you squeeze his hand gently. "I think so too. I'm sure she'd make a wonderful big sister."
He leans closer, his forehead brushing against yours in a gesture of intimacy and connection. "I just wanted to talk about it, you know? Make sure we're on the same page."
"We are," you assure him, "Whenever you're ready, I'm ready too."
Jungkook's lips find yours in a tender kiss, his touch gentle and reassuring. “I love you and I'm so happy we're finally starting a family. Thank you for making me a father."
a/n: Too sweet? Perhaps so, but it's how I roll 😎 haha anyway, if you were looking forward to a more detailed baby-making scene, well it's in the series so have at it lol. But now...I'm going to sleep. Maybe I'll open my requests for some more drabbles with the TLTD couple (or I'll make my own requests haha)
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#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#jungkook x reader#jungkook imagine#jungkook fanfic#bts smut#bts x reader#bts imagines#bts fanfic#bts au#bts fluff#bts angst#fic:toolatetodream#kookslastbutton
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Pitfighter vi x reader. vi is really cold at first and the whole thing is strictly physical but one time, reader tends to her wounds and she starts getting softer with her after that. Smut + angst if you don't mind.
-🍃
Thank you for being my very first request!
Let's get into it!
Pat, Pat, Pat.
Your face falls in defeat as your hands meet an empty mattress.
Why does she always do this to me? It's my fault, she always does this. I don't know why I expected different.
Vi always did this to you. Fucking you, using you for comfort, leaving you alone in the morning, and then acting like nothing ever happened. You thought you would get used to it, but you never do. Everyone tells you to leave her alone, but you just can't. You just can't.
With a bouquet of whatever flowers could find in Zaun, you stood waiting for Vi to come out of the pit. She had won her match, and you were so proud of her.
As soon as you see her beautiful figure, you stand up and straight and attempt to talk.
"Vi, you did so good..."
Your head turns as she walks right past you. You run to catch up to her, stopping right in front of her with your bouquet to her chest.
"I got these for you." You say nervously.
"Why are you here." Vi spits out.
Blinking two times in confusion, a little laugh comes out of your mouth.
"What do you mean? I came to support you. I always want to support you."
"Look, I don't need any fangirls. Please, go on somewhere." Vi says with an eye roll.
You stand there in shock as Vi pushes the flowers back to you and walks away.
As your shock fades away, you quickly decide that you won't let Vi slip from you this easily.
She's just hurt is all. She just needs somebody who won't give up on her, somebody to care.
The next time you saw Vi at one of her matches, she got her ass beat. Her lip was busted, her nose was bleeding from her piercing, and her left one had a shiner on it.
Goddamn
You wait, like always, for her to come out of the pit. When she does, she looks pissed.
"Vi-"
"I don't have time for your fucking fangirly bullshit! Haven't I fucking told you that before! When will you finally get it through your fucking skull that I just like to fuck you?" Vi yells as blood spills from her lip.
With a second thought, you dig in your pocket and pull out a handkerchief for her to wipe her lip with. You hold it out to her, and she looks at you in disbelief.
"I have ointment and gauze for your nose, too if you need it." You speak calmy.
Vi continues to stare at you with her jaw dropped.
"I know you don't care about anything but sex when it comes to me, but I am not the same. I want you to be good. I want you to be more than good. You don't have to feel the same but at least let me heal you a bit. We can have sex after that, and then you can leave."
A beat passes before Vi gives in.
"Fine, but you better make me dinner, too, and I definitely want sex."
With a light laugh, you agree, and you both make the journey to your house.
After entering your house, Vi plops herself on her couch.
"Are you thirsty?" You ask.
"You got beer?" Vi responds.
"Yes. Here you go."
You give the beer to her and then go to the back to get your healing kit.
You sit next to Vi and ask her to turn your way.
"I'll try to be as careful as possible. It might sting a little."
As you heal Vi's face, her body relaxes, and she starts to ask you questions about your life.
How did you get into healing? How do you know how to cook. Where did you find those flowers?
You politely answer every question until you finally finish.
"All done! You did so well." You say cheerfully.
A rosy shade paints Vi's face as she hears your praise. With a cough, she asks roughly, "What for dinner?"
"Oh, I forgot! I was thinking we could have fried fish and rice. Is that okay?"
"Yeah, that sounds alright." Vi says nonchalantly despite doing jumping jacks in her head as the thought of a home cooked meal.
As you cook the meal, Vi gets up and stalks towards you.
"What are you doing?"
You nearly jump 10 feet in the air as her voice suprises you.
"Oh, my fucking God Vi, you scared me! I'm breading the fish."
"What's "breading the fish"." Vi says, making quotations in the air.
"It's when you put the chicken in eggs and flour before frying it. It's what makes the fish crispy."
"Mmm." Vi hums as she puts her arms around your waist.
Vi's lips trail down you neck as her hands crawl up the inside of your top.
You moan softly as you fail to push her away. "Vi, I'm trying to cook."
"Cook later, I'm horny."
"I thought you wanted dinner." You puff out.
"I want pussy more." She muffles out into your neck. Continuing, she says, "Plus, I gotta make it up to you for being such as asshole earlier."
"It's okay, Vi. I understand that you're just frustrated sometimes. You don't have to make it up to me." You sigh out in ecstasy as Vi rubs circular motions on your breasts.
"Lemme make it up to you, cupcake."
"Let me turn off the stove." Quickly, you turn off the stove and allow Vi to pick you up to take you to the bedroom.
As soon as Vi lays you on the bed, you immediately start taking each other's clothes off.
The first thing Vi does as she sees your breast is suck on them. She swirls her tongue around your nipple while she palms your other breast. You moan and arch into her touch as she works your body.
"Fuck, Vi, don't stop." You say as you begin to rub quick motions on her clit. She groans into your mouth, her cum coating your fingers. Vi moves away from your breast, trailing kisses down your stomach, happy trail, to the top of your pussy. She plants a kiss there before attempting to dive into you.
"Wait," you say with a heavy breath.
"What?" Vi says with a confused look.
"Let's do 69, I wanna eat your pussy."
A grin splits across Vi's face at lightning speed as quickly moves into position. As soon as her pussy is in front of you, you dive into each other like a five-course Michelin meal.
Both of your moans resound throughout the entire room as you tongue fuck and clit suck each other's pussies into oblivion.
"Fuck, suck my clit harder." Vi demands as she rocks against your face. Quickly obeying her command, you attach your lips to her and suck like a vacuum.
She does the same to you and in a matter of second you both come hard, shaking against each other. Vi rolls off of you and stares at the ceiling in a daze.
"Shit, that felt so good, Vi. You ready for dinner now?" You ask innocently.
Vi nods her head weakly. With a chuckle, you get up out of bed, clean both of you up, and start on dinner.
"Damn, I think fucking love her," Vi whispers to herself.
#Vi x reader#vi smut#vi x you#arcane smut#arcane fanfic#arcane spoilers#arcane s2#arcane season 2#asks
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Hello! I was thinking about ideas for a furina!yuu (genshin) or Misha!yuu (hsr) perhaps? Also I love your work ^^
⚠️ Contained spoilers for the penacony story quest as well as Fontaine archon quest if you haven't done it as well for chapter 7 ⚠️
It's very rushed due to, me having the final exam week today 🥹🥹
𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐅𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐀!𝐘𝐔𝐔 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐖𝐒𝐓
The "Regina of All Waters, Kindreds, Peoples and Laws" is deeply loved by her people. She follows each and every trial held at the Opera Epiclese with an inextinguishable passion, and is always acutely aware of how the "audience" sees things.
Part of the film studies club and as well a director with vil on the club, after their appearance towards twst they were recruited to be an actor on a movie and it turned into a huge success making her debut in the industry as one of the brightest stars in twst.
Puts up an arrogant act but deep down is kind and sweet, they just put up the arrogant act to protect themselves. Even tho being already free they still keep their guard up.
Have strives for the dramatic and theater, shares their interest with vil as well each other giving advice on theater and other stuff
During the VDC furina!Yuu performs la vaugelette, the entire stadium was quite admiring their singing as well as the dance of them. After they finish everyone stands up and even applauds.
Vil won't admit it but deep down he knows, furina!yuu is a much better actor than him and will often seek their advice over theater and offer them to join the film studies club and they accept.
During overblot, they will use their elemental skill to fight and give support towards their teammates, healing damage dealing sub damage towards the overblot.
Have tea parties with riddles once a week they discuss school topics, etiquette and other things. They will Always bring a cake from a fancy bakery they usually visit to get their desserts and some occasions vil would join and immerse in the conversation.
Furina!Yuu have a habit of practicing acting in front of a mirror, they pose and act in front of a mirror to find the perfect one.
Sometimes when they're alone in the ramshackle dorm, they have a mental breakdown from their past and grim would comfort them. furina!yuu was mentally drained due to their past but soon started to get better as well finding comfort in NRC.
Lilia would be surprised to learn about their past, as well try to comfort them. They would discuss what it is like in the past as well as Lilia providing comfort for them.
𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐀!𝐘𝐔𝐔 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐖𝐒𝐓
A lovable and thoughtful bellboy of The Reverie Hotel. He wished to become an intergalactic adventurer like his grandfather. He was extremely hardworking and was skilled at fixing a variety of machines. He also had a fondness for sharing interstellar rumors with guests. He hoped he could grow up faster and looked forward to embarking on his own star-treading journey.
An enigma at first, misha!yuu has little interaction with the rest of school due not having a physical body but their presence is very much felt in NRC. But the story progresses the same as before.
Will appear at student dreams guiding them with or just simply appearing to speak to them to have a conversation.
Become some sort of spirit or myth towards the students, their presence greatly impacts the school but they lack the Bodied to interact with them
Comforting students being a guiding light and source of light towards everyone, protecting them from the nightmares that plague their minds
They have the desire to grow up quickly so they can immediately go to NRC or they are patiently waiting for them to grow up.
The first years are by far the ones misha!yuu are very close to. Misha!yuu helping grim and protecting him from his nightmares. As well as silver.
But when malleus over blot and put everyone in the school into a deep sleep, misha!yuu and silver were tasked to wake everybody up.
By these adventures they manage to discover misha!yuu fragments of misha!yuu memories and true identity as a person. As well their true name.
In the expense of waking up everyone, misha!yuu will finally fade away due to them being a memory fragment.
When everyone woke up, grim cried at the loss of them. And the school will hold a funeral for misha!yuu or Mikhail!yuu. And put up a picture of them in the halls of NRC.
#twisted wonderland#not canon#twst scenario#disney twst#twst headcanons#twst wonderland#twisted wonderland yuu au#twst mc#twst yuu au#twst x reader#genshin#twst x genshin#twst x hsr#misha!yuu#furina!yuu#genshin furina#hsr misha
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hard launch | leah williamson
pairing: leah williamson x reader
a/n: merry christmas!!! enjoy some christmassy awfc fluff x
summary: reader and leah film their parts in the arsenal christmas gifting video. reader receives a gift that shows everyone who's girlfriend she is.
word count: 1.3k
The Arsenal media team had set up a Christmas tree lined with presents for all the girls to open for a video. You obliged happily, excited about having a present to open before Christmas. Leah however had to be convinced.
"It's bad luck! You can't have us opening gifts before Christmas!" She said, her voice firm.
"Ease up Lee, it's just a little present from the club," you said, rubbing the space between her shoulder blades while silently laughing at your girlfriends commitment to tradition.
"My Mum can't find out about this, she'll have a fit," Leah says, eyeing the tree scornfully.
"Well she might see this video when it goes up," Frimmy says from behind the camera.
You move out of the shot now and watch through the screen of the camera as Leah steps into frame and speaks directly to the lens, "Do I look as awkward as I feel? Because I'm sorry Mum, I don't normally do this before Christmas day, I'm being forced to."
Shaking your head, you and many of the other girls watch on in anticipation as Leah unwraps her gift, and when she pulls out the electric keyboard you all exchange knowing glances. It's no secret that learning piano has been Leah's latest mission, and you more than anyone have been along for the journey. Most evenings now your night was soundtracked by Leah sitting at the piano stool, reading her sheet music and practicing.
When she was preparing for her performance with the BBC orchestra you must have heard her play that Shania Twain song about 200 times before you had to cut her off.
"You've got it Leah, I promise," you had stressed to her.
"I'm just so nervous, I need to know I can do it perfectly!" She demanded, starting to play it again.
"Nope. No. I'm sorry, but I'm cutting you off. It's time for bed," you had said. Even though you were always supportive of her endeavours, you knew she was only stressing herself out with the drive for perfection.
"Baby, please just let me practice it one more time, then bed," she pleaded like a little kid asking for five more minutes of play time.
"Fine. Once more. But I am telling you it's been perfect 98% of the times you've played," you said.
She just waved you away and played it once more all the way through, perfectly of course, and then finally conceded to your request. When you finally crawled into bed together that night you turned towards Leah, murmuring into the darkness.
"I'm starting to get worried that I'll have Shania Twain stuck in my head forever."
Leah giggled but reassured you, "I won't be playing it forever. And trust me, I'm sick of it too."
Now today she was sitting down, playing the little electric keyboard and trying to get everyone to guess what she was playing. You knew straight away it was Adele, because she had played it for you just last night, but it took everyone else a little longer to catch on.
Leah, pleased with her present moved along to allow for the next girls to go through. You stepped in, ready to unwrap your presents with Steph and Kyra, but before you got to pull off the paper one of the Arsenal media people pulled you out.
"We'll get you to open yours on your own, Y/N," they told you. You weren't really sure why, but you trusted their vision and waited for your turn.
When you were finally standing in front of the camera after Steph and Kyra, you felt your present through the wrapping and you could tell that it was a piece of clothing. As you pulled it out, you unfolded it to reveal a t-shirt. And you instantly realised why they'd got you to open it on your own. It seemed to be a fan made t-shirt that had pictures of Leah all over the front as well as LEAH WILLIAMSON printed in large pink block letters running down the side.
You bent over laughing, not even sure if you should show it off to the camera. While you and Leah were officially together, it hadn't really been confirmed publicly. The media team knew that and obviously got you on your own so they could easily leave your clip out of the video.
"Really?" You looked up at the small crew, holding the shirt up next to your face.
Leah, watching on began to laugh now, seeing what you'd been given.
"Best present of the day guys!" She exclaimed.
"So ridiculous," you said as all the girls behind the camera laughed.
"Hard launch," Kyra said, teasing you both.
"Shut up," you smiled, "This won't be going on the Instagram," you said assertively, pointing directly down the barrel of the camera.
"Why don't you put in on, Y/N," Leah suggests.
"You'd like that wouldn't you?" You narrow your eyes at your girlfriend, knowing how much of a kick she would get out of seeing you wearing the top, looking like a fan.
"Go on," Steph urges you.
Begrudgingly, you pull your training shirt up over your head, receiving playful wolf whistles from the girls before you pull your new t-shirt down over your body. When it was on you held your arms out, showing it off.
"How do I look?" You said, giving a little spin as the girls clapped for you.
Leah walked over towards you and held onto your waist, admiring herself on your shirt.
"I bet this inflates your ego," you say, seeing the cheeky sparkle in her eyes.
Leah didn't even say anything in response, she just moved to stand next to you, threw her arm around your shoulder in a very platonic manner and posed towards the camera.
"I love meeting fans," she said, smiling at her own joke.
"Ha ha," you said sardonically, rolling your eyes and nudging her away from you.
"We should get a photo of this though," Leah said, pulling her phone out of her pocket and handing it off to Steph who snapped a picture of you both. When you looked back at it Leah wore a very cocky smirk and looked as if you were posing for a photo with your favourite footballer.
Katie stood over your shoulder to peer at the photo, "Oh that's got to go in a photo dump girls."
"I don't think so," you said quickly, leaving it there. Though you did wear the top around for the rest of the day, finding it surprisingly comfortable, until you tucked it away into your bag before heading home.
You had honestly forgotten about it until Christmas Day when you were scrolling on Instagram in bed after the long day of festivities and you saw Leah had tagged you in a photo. She was right next to you sitting on her phone with a smirk on her face.
"What have you posted?" You asked, clicking onto it and swiping through the various Christmas photos until you saw your own bashful face reflected in the photo that Steph had taken of you in the shirt. The caption read, Best time of year (love my fans @Y/N.Y/L/N) x.
Katie McCabe had already liked the post and tagged you in a comment, President of the Leah Williamson fan club aren't ya? @Y/N.Y/L/N.
"Leah!" You said sharply, looking at your girlfriend in disbelief.
"What? It's a great photo," she said.
"You're fuelling the fire," you said, referencing the ongoing speculation online about your relationship.
"So what? I don't care if people know we're together, do you?" Leah said simply.
You realised that you also didn't care, in fact you would be proud for people to know, so you shook your head.
"Of course I don't," you said, reassuring her that you were okay with this.
"Good, then stop being grumpy about the photo," she said, leaning over to give you a kiss.
"It's such a bad photo! I genuinely look like a teenage fan girl," you laughed.
"That's what makes it so great," Leah says, giggling at her ability to annoy you.
You shake your head and pick up your phone again, feeling confident in your relationship with Leah, no longer caring if people know or they don't. This leads you to respond to Katie's comment with two simple words that are enough to send all the fans spiralling over the small confirmation: Hard launch?
#leah williamson#awfc#leah williamson x reader#woso community#woso x reader#arsenal women#woso#lionesses
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Films of Anger
part 2
sebastian vettel x schumacher!reader
summary: brocedes 2.0 basically. childhood best friend's fight on track turns into a fight in real life
warning: light angst with a bit of fluff sprinkled in xD
"Papa, let me go!" Michael Schumacher's arms around you were the only thing that stopped you from attacking Sebastian right now. You fought against the stone grip around your body, trying to reach for Sebastian, who was held back by Kimi, though he wasn't exactly fighting much against the Fin's grip.
Michael moved his head down so it was leveled with your own. "You have to calm down." His usually soft voice when he spoke to you, was stoic. You were scared to look at him after hearing it so close to you.
"He almost killed me!" You insisted, voice firey as you stared Sebastian down. Your statement was followed by aggressive shouting from both you and Sebastian, catching the attention from all around. Although most of the people couldn't understand the angry german words leaving either of your lips, the tone spoke more than words could.
"If you drove properly, neither of us would have DNF'd." Sebastian shouted. Once again you started to fight your fathers iron grip, trying to fight Sebastian. You heard your father huff, and felt your feet leave the ground as the man behind you lifted you up in the air, to carry you off.
"Papa!" You shouted, wiggling your body. "Let me down!"
"I let you down if you promise not to try and beat up Sebastian and come and talk to me." He announced carrying you around the paddock. The more distance he brought between you and Sebastain, the more embarrassment started to fill you after noticing the many judging looks people threw at you. Cameras were locked onto the two of you, filming the whole ordeal.
"I promise. I swear, we can talk, just please let me down." You said quickly. Michael nodded and let you down, his hands though stayed put on your shoulders to make sure that you won't run off.
"Do you want me to grap your mother?" Michael asked, looking down at you, but you just shook your head. You didn't want to see the disappointing look in her eyes, knowing that she probably saw the whole scene live on TV in the garage. "No." "
Alright." Michael nodded, one arm thrown around your shoulders, the other gripping the other. Silently he led you through the paddock. You kept your head down, still feeling eyes and cameras set on you, trying to get a look at your face. Your father threw each and everyone a look that silenced them without doubt.
He was well aware of the stupidity of the situation you and Sebastian acted upon, but he didn't think that it was anybody's business to know what truly went on.
When you passed the garages you frowned, thinking that Michael was gonna drag you into a silent corner of the Ferrari or Mercedes garage, but your journey went on towards the motor homes. Pushing into the Ferrari Motor home, you went through the halls up to your drivers room.
When the door closed your shoulders dropped, sluggish you moved to the couch, throwing yourself onto the cushions. You felt your father's presence standing by the door and without a look, you knew what he looked like. Like waves, the questions rolled off of him.
Trying to waste time before you had to speak, you opened your driving suit to let your body cool down from the heated situation.
"What happend?" His voice broke the tension. You thought you were prepared for anger in his voice, but all you heard was sympathy, and that broke you. Tears filled your eyes, while you tries to keep it together you looked up through swimming sight. Your voice was on the verge of breaking as you spoke.
"I messed up, Papa." Michael sighed at the sight of you. He wanted to be angry, but how could he when you looked so broken. He shook his head, moving to sit next to you and pull you in his arms.
"What happened?" He asked again head on top of your own. You had your head pressed against his chest, breathing heavily.
"I think I broke our friendship off." You muttered thinking about what happened just after the race.
__
1996
The first time you met Sebastian was when your were seven years old. He was nine and just won a race. Your father was the one handing out the trophies.
You weren't old enough to drive in the same league as Sebastian yet, but you were always tagging alongside your father when it came to anything racing related. It was your thing. Papa and Y/N's thing.
Racing was what connected you. The hours you spent in your garage building on your kart alongside your father. Nothing brought you more contentment than that.
It was lunch time when you were standing by a concession stand waiting for your food, when little Sebastian approached to order his own.
"What did you get?" He asked noticing your wide eyes looking up at the counter, waiting impatiently on your food. When the little blonde boy spoke, you looked over. An adorable smile graced his face when he noticed your wide eyes.
"Currywurst. For me and my Papa." You had announced to him, giving a toothy grin. Sebastian nodded excitedly.
"It's his favourite." You added whispering as if it was the most important secret. Sebastian laughed leaning over to you to answer in the same hushed voice. "It's my favourite as well."
Giggling filled the air around the two of you.
"I just saw you race." You told him after the giggles stopped. "I think you were really good, and so did my Papa."
The blonde boy blushed lightly looking down at his shoes.
"Thank you."
"Did you race as well, or a sibling?" He asked but you shook your head. "I do race, but I'm not old enough to race with you. I'm here because my Papa was giving out the trophies."
Sebastian halted, his eyes were wide as he stared at you. You titled your head at him, although you were used to these types of reactions from people, it never seized to amaze you what kind of presence your fathers name had on people.
"Your father is Michael Schumacher?" Sebastian stuttered, making you nod. Humming you agreed with a bright smile. Pride swelling in your chest at the thought of your dad and his impression on the young boy in front of you.
"That is so cool." Sebastian exclaimed, jumping on the spot. You giggled at his excitement, listening on to Sebastian's words. "He's my hero. And one day, I'll be just like him."
That was your first of many meetings with the blonde haired boy you would call your best friend for many years. At one point you started karting together, slowly moving up the leagues until you both landed in formula one.
Sebastian had already been in formula one. Having moved from Toro Rosso to RedBull, when you finally joined formula one as well, signing your contract with Ferrari. The announcement didn't just make you beyond happy, but Sebastian and Michael as well. It was what you all had dreamed about, the three of you driving together in formula one. Sebastian and you driving alongside your childhood hero. Driving alongside your best friend and your father.
It was like a fairytale come to life. And even the hate and doubts from the outside world couldn't kill the joy you felt. It was all magical, until the inevitable had to happen.
It was always a fight on track. Even if you were friends beside it, on track everyone was your enemy. And especially when you were young and wanted to prove something, that could mean nothing less of reckless behaviour. Sebastian was a model example of exactly that. It was an one on one between the two of you.
You were leading, Sebastian wanted through. Obviously you didn't want that so you defended. And that was the moment when it all went down. You were coming out of a curve. Sebastain was on your right, overstearing, you still weren't sure if that was on purpose, but almost knocking you off the track.
Trying to keep your car steady, your front wing interlinked with his car. You both noticed too late what was happening, simultaneously trying to pull away from the others, and knocking you both out, while trying to get away from the other.
In your mind it was clearly Sebastian's fault for overstearing. In Sebastian's it was you for hitting his car trying to get back in track.
Michael sighed. He hadn't had time to watch the footage of what exactly happened, yet. All he knew was that the two of them had an accident and DNF'd no one told him what exactly happened. He was just on his way to rewatch the accident and to look for his kid to make sure she was alright when he came across the screaming match.
"I'm sure it wasn't that bad." He told you.
You shook your head against him, tightening your arms around the man. "That wasn't the bad part. I tried to talk to him after, but he was mad, Papa. Like proper mad."
__
When you were wheeled back into the garage, you couldn't stop tapping the wheel out of impatience. You were itching to give Sebastian a piece of your mind.
What in the world was he thinking, trying to push you off the track. Was he crazy?
When everything was good you stepped out of your car, took off your helmet and the HANS, before storming off. A few of the Ferrari mechanics tried to stop you, but you moved out of their way, before running off towards the RedBull garage.
It was the last lap, how could Sebastian be so stupid to risk it all at the last lap.
From afar you could see the grimace your friend had on his face as he spoke to his engineer. When he saw you, his brows furrowed and his face formed into a grimace, similar to the one you had.
"Sebastian, are you fucking crazy or what?!" You shouted in german fron afar as you approached the boy. The blonde looked at you angrily.
"Me? What were you thinking crashing right into me? This isn'tfucking bumper cars."
"Yes, exactly, it isn't." You agreed, stopping beside him right in front of the RedBull garage. "So why in the world did you think knocking me off track was a good idea?"
"Knocking you off track. Fucking hell, there was enough space a fucking hippo could have walked past." He hissed back, eyes filled with an angry fire. "It's your fault, you can't fucking drive. The only reason your even in formula one is because your father is fucking Michael Schumacher."
"Oh, let's be fucking real, Sebastian." You shouted. "You know that that is not the reason, I fought for my place, just like you did. And if you look at the listing you would see that I've got the numbers to prove it, because I am in front of you."
"Oh, piss of will you." He shouted back.
Neither of you noticed it, but your voices hot louder and angrier the more you spoke catching the attention of many bystanders and drivers getting back to the pits after finishing the race.
"If you think you're so much better then get on with it, will you. But I will prove to you that I am much better than you are, little rich kid"
You saw red at his indication. Of course you had the money, you knew your family was rich, but you told the boy often enough that you hated being reduced to simply that. That the thought of being reduced to only being a spoiled little kid was something you despised.
That was the moment you tried to leap at him, though Kimi Räikkönen pulled him back before you could get to him, while you felt your fathers arms around you.
As you told him exactly what happened you felt his arms tighten around you. You knew he was angry with Sebastian about talking to you like that, but he tried to hide it.
"Oh, Schatz." He mused strocking a hand over your hair. "I'm sure it is only half as bad. You both probably just need some time to cool off and the you speak again."
Michael was trying to be reassuring. Always the positive thinker, the joy bringer. He was always trying to see the best in people and he knew that Sebastian wasn't a bad person. He's known him since he was a little boy. Michael hoped that it really was all just because of the heat of the moment. Even if the words spoken were cruel in nature, he hoped that they had not broken your friendship, which had gone through so much already.
"It's gonna be alright, Maus." He muttered into your hair.
#sebastian vettel x reader#michael schumacher#sebastian vettel#kimi raikkonen#formula 1#formula one#formula one fanfiction
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This blog is now officially my favourite and I'm totally addicted to all your content on Aemond and Aegon.
There was a comment on how Aemond probably immediatly tries to fulfill all his wives wishes even if it wasn't serious (that one was mainly about killing people but anyways) and I was wondering if we could get some thoughts on a situation where he can't to that. Maybe they're travelling and she mentions how much she would love a hot bath or her own bed (without meaning anything by it) and he just can't do anything about it
I should have known that one of you lads would find a way to make that crack post serious and a little angsty. We love torturing men on this blog.
There is implied sub!aemond in this answer but no explicit thoughts so I won't be letting you all hide behind a cut, you know what you're getting into here!!
So for anyone who missed the ask this is referencing: I made a joke a while ago about how Aemond would reach a point where he's just no thoughts head empty do whatever pretty wife says. Aemond is a service sub through and through and he absolutely loves being able to do things for you. More than just like it, he takes extreme pride in it?
Not just because he's your submissive, but because he's also your husband. He needs to know he's being a good husband, that he's worthy of a wife like you and he gets genuinely distressed if he thinks he's disappointed you or angered you in any way.
When this specific thing happens, I like the idea of it maybe being when you're both travelling somewhere on Vhagar? Like maybe all the members of the royal family are expected to show their support for something all the way up at Winterfell. Most of them are all going by horse and carriage, but Aemond of course would take Vhagar and he asks if you'd like to join him. Aemond LOVES when it's just you, him and Vhagar and he absolutely adores flying and travelling with you. Plus, Vhagar loves you just as much because from the moment she met you she knew that you were so good for Aemond.
Anyway, the point is that you were able to instead go by comfortable horse and carriage, stopping at inns every day and being welcomed by all the common folk in the area. Instead, you chose to leave a week after everyone else with Aemond and to fly on Vhagar instead, which is only a three day journey because of how fast she is and how long she can fly for.
But those three days flying means that for two nights you're pretty much just camped out wherever Vhagar lands for the day. Right from the start Aemond offered to check the maps and find inns for both nights but you told him not to bother.
You know that Aemond will be uncomfortable staying in inns, especially because he's so recognisable and so he knows all the people in the area will want to speak with him. Forcing him to show up at Winterfell and show his public support for something he couldn't give less of a shit about is bad enough, he doesn't need to also be a roadside attraction for two nights.
More than just that, you know Aemond could really really do with three days of just you, him and Vhagar.
The first day of flying you don't even speak much. You're seated behind Aemond, your hands wrapped around his waist and it's just perfect.
When Vhagar lands for the night, you set up camp while Aemond checks around to ensure it's a safe place to spend the night.
When he comes back, you have everything set up and you make an offhanded comment that you miss your nice warm bed. You don't even think much of it and continue putting the twigs together for the fire. It's only once you have the fire going fully that you realise Aemond still hasn't come to sit with you and has instead stayed standing where he was when you made the comment.
You ask him what's wrong, and to your shock he's silent for a moment before he asks, "Do you not want to stay with me?"
You have no idea where that came from, and when you ask he says that you mentioned missing your bed. You can't help it, you have to laugh at your sweet husband. You motion for him to come sit with you and when he does, you link arms with him and lean against his shoulder.
"Of course I want to," you tell him, "it was just an offhanded comment, I love being here with you."
You can feel him relax a little, no longer sitting as straight and tense, but he's still not satisfied. He speaks up again, "I don't know what to do," he says, "I can't... I can't do anything about that."
You frown and lean more against him, pressing a kiss under his jaw and telling him that he doesn't need to do a thing. You promise him that you love being with him, and that you never would have agreed to come if you genuinely didnt want to sleep out here with him.
Even with that reassurance, he's still a little unsettled throughout the night, and you can see this by the way he tries even harder than usual to please you. He double and triple checks that you don't want anything, he folds your clothes himself, he offers you extra blankets, just does everything he can because he feels like he's failing you by not being able to make you comfortable.
You can see he's spiralling, and I actually think the best thing to do might be to give him a command? No amount of reassurance will help his brain relax, he needs to feel like he has done something good for you.
Maybe you just have him brush your hair for you? There's not much you can ask him to do in the middle of nowhere, so you grab your brush and ask him to take your braids out your hair and brush it through. He's so so gentle with it, really taking his time to ensure he doesn't pull you.
When he finishes you turn to face him and give him a kiss, thanking him for helping you and telling him how much you're loving being with him.
After you arrive at Winterfell, Aemond tells you that he never wants to travel another way with you again.
#sub!aemond#aemond targaryen smut#aemond targaryen x reader#prince aemond#aemond one eye#aemond targaryen#hotd aemond#aemond x reader#house of the dragon#house of the dragon fanfiction#hotd
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I've seen this question going around a fair bit to blogs that don't really give a good answer and I don't really want to interact with, SO
Let's talk 📣
Headspaces
Did you know that there was a point in time when inner worlds were largely confined to discussions of polyfragmentation and complex MPD?
I've posted before about the experiences of older systems before the internet, and this topic falls into that same boat-- back before maladaptive daydreaming was even a named concept (Eli Somer first wrote about MaDD in 2002).
So, to anyone worried:
Not having an inner world is NORMAL
In fact, for the longest time, it was the norm.
As such, there were techniques used to HELP clients develop an inner world in an attempt to learn to communicate with their alters.
And I'd like to share one of those with you! This technique could be useful to ANYONE still struggling to speak with system members, and gives you a basis from which to build an inner world.
The Round Table Communication Exercise
When I first started my journey, I had no communication with my system. We experienced heavy emotional intrusion from each other, maybe a whisper here or there, but that was it.
My therapist taught me this technique to use during our sessions and while I was going to sleep.
Essentially, you're meditating. Find a quiet place to relax (when going to bed it perfect), close your eyes, and imagine a table.
Start simple, nothing intense. Hold the image of the table in your mind. What is it made from? How many legs does it have? What colour is it? Is there anything on it? Etch this table into your mind. Every inch of it. Commit it to memory.
And now, set chairs at the table. How many are there? Are they the same material as the table? Are they comfortable or hard? Tall backs? Arms? Can you sit in the chair and lean your forearms on the table? Is it comfortable?
Invite others to come sit with you.
Maybe they won't show up the first day, but continue to invite them, continue to imagine that table and the chairs. Note any changes that occur to the table.
Once you're comfortable with the table, familiar with it, slowly look around the room. How many walls? What colour? Is there anything on the walls? What kind of vibe is the room giving you? Is it welcoming and relaxing? If it's not, imagine yourself changing the room. Straighten pictures, paint the walls.
Continue to visit this room and invite others to come talk.
Eventually, someone came to sit at the table with me. As we sat and spoke, I could start to envision his face, his hair, his voice, his clothes, I could hear him telling me his name.
And over time, more people joined us. More chairs appeared, knickknacks were scattered around the room and across the table, doors appeared along the walls.
We created a couch and a TV, to simulate fronting and imagine our interactions together.
Because that's all an inner world is-- an imaginary recreation to represent internal interactions.
There isn't some small pocket in your brain where everyone lives, you're not born with an inner world, it doesn't come free with your first alter's Xbox. An inner world can be as simple as being able to visualize an interaction, or an entire immersive daydream city.
One of my alters is very emotionally reactive, and when he's frustrated, he "flips the table." This visualization is something everyone in the system can see, it's the same feeling each time, and the reactions of each alter can be perfectly visualized as this table flips-- exhausted groans, facepalms, shooshpaps as he's whisked away to his room through one of the doors.
When we're fighting for front, we can see ourselves sitting on the couch in front of the television, fighting over the remote, or if we're co-con we can imagine ourselves sitting together on the couch. Maybe we're cuddled and happy, or maybe we're sitting there awkwardly, a solid inch between us where we refuse to brush arms.
Over time, the couch became bigger, and more of us could sit together, everyone aware of and watching the images on the screen of our life happening in real time. We could talk to each other about choices we were making.
Eventually, we could visualize ourselves talking it out rather than fighting. We were able to slam our hands down on the table before it could be flipped.
These visualizations are our basis of communication.
This is an inner world, even if it's nothing more than a room that I created myself.
I hope this exercise can help others.
Good luck, and happy daydreaming.
#not syscourse#communication technique#did#osdd#osddid#dissociative identity disorder#actually dissociative#actually traumagenic#plurality#system safe#CDDs first#resource
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When mediocrity meets the supremacy - veritas ratio
Where the Doctor narrows his eyes at the trailblazer for stealing his partner's attention.. ~700 words, SFW (not necessarily connected, but read part 1!
AU where reader followed the trailblaze before quitting to pursue further studies in various fields of science with Dr. Ratio himself in the Intelligensia Guild. (Might not be entirely lore accurate, trailblazer doesnt go to Belobog)
Your mind brings you back to the soft swishes of water during your bath with you beloved. it had been almost 5 system hours since the last few drops of bathwater went down the drain, small petals being the only thing that signified your intimate rendezvous with the Doctor himself.
You shake your head, forcing yourself to pull away from the sweet, dream-esque scene. You find yourself struggling to focus on the task at hand, the smug face of Vertitas Ratio plastering itself all over the wals of your mind like the "WANTED" posters all over belobog's brick walls you saw during the journey to Jarilo VI with your old friends.
Speaking of the trailblazers, you had planned a small gathering with the Astral Express members in the evening, since they were visiting. You had yearned to see the faces of Marth 7th, Dan Heng, Himeko, Welt, even Pom Pom. You've heard from March that there had been a new member of the Astral Express, going by Caelus. Judging from March's bombarding texts of photos and videos, he seemed to have a quite....eccentric personality, but bore a kind expression nonetheless.
You'd adequately dressed yourself up after returning to you and Dr. Ratio's humble home, opting to switch to a fancier outfit. It was a speical occasion, after all. You loosely linked your arm around Veritas' very reluctant arm, walknig towards the round table where the members were sat.
"It has been a while, hasn't it?" Himeko addressed your name, and drifted her eyes to the grey-haired trailblazer to the opposite of you. Dr. Ratio narrowed his eyes, you slightly nudged him to get rid of that old habit, hard enough to get a small grunt out of him.
"Say, Trailblazer. How has the Astral Express been treating you?" You asked, watching as the gears slowly spun into action in his head, almost as if someone was controlling him through a game screen.(teehee)
"Well..I've been through lots of unforgettable journeys with the Astral Express, and they've shown me much care in a...familial way."
You nod your head, satisfied at the answer before you. You reminisce about your days spent on the Express. Whether it be happy or hurtful, significant but sad. A clink of the wine glass drew everyone at the old-fashioned western-styled restaurant's attention.
"Come on! Won't a handsome man just come up and sing along to this song with me?!"
The woman dragged Caelus' arm towards the center stage, handing him a hat. He gracefully donned it on his head as you watched in admiration. Since Caelus was younger than you, you had an almost...motherly love to him. But Veritas didn't seem to take it that way.
You clapped along to the rhythm of a song sang by the singing duo - composed of a random woman, and the newest member of the Astral Express. The soda bottles hopped in joy as the trailblazer returns to his seat. Ah, a livehouse, I see.
Throught the scene, Ratio's eyes trailed alongside your movements; every captivating smile, every clap sent to the trailblazer, every whoop or cheer sent to him, every---
Graphs and charts were buzzing about in his mind. His analytical brain was working at full speed. "What made him to be so charming when it was me that needed to be appealing?!" No amount of data or statistics could account for how much love he had for you in his heart, yet he couldn''t show it, and you were about to be taken away by--
"Veritas? Are you alright?" He had awoken to your soft touches on his face. He'd abruptly sat up on the bed that he once laid on. Pause. An epiphany occured in his mind, "You...the party...!" He tried to compose himself, yet his drunk-dazed (teehee) mind wouldn't cooperate. "The party went greatly, dear! Half the time, you were zoned out, just staring at some random poster about Robin and Sunday!"
Veritas' eyes widened. "I didn't say anything....preposterous, did I?"
"Well...only something about wanting me to be your super private secretary, and only yours-" "Ridiculous! Utterly absurd!"
Putting on his alabaster head, facing away from you. Looks like the Doctor won't be able to admit to his jealousy...
#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#star rail x reader#dr ratio x reader#veritas ratio x reader#ratio x reader#honkai star rail dr ratio#hsr dr ratio#hsr oneshots#dr ratio x yn#dr ratio x you#honkai star rail#hsr#honkai star rail imagines#rina's writings!
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Heavy is the head that wears the crown
Author: bvidzsoo
Warnings: slight cursing, mentions of human trafficking
Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x female reader
Word count: 24,9k
Summary: Jung Wooyoung was a prince. Raised to be a King one day. Except that nobody asked him if he wanted to become one, it was his duty. Wooyoung thought he'd be able to travel the world, sail out and go on adventures, however that is just not how his story was written. So, one day, when he was only thirteen years old, he decided to take the pen in his own hands and change his own story. He became a Pirate. You, you were also a princess, soon to become Queen. Your groom disappeared when the two of you were thirteen and you figured you wouldn't get married now, so there was no reason to stay at your castle and live a boring life. You ran away, living quietly and humbly. That is, until Wooyoung came stumbling through your living room door. (Reader is called Oh Haneul in the following oneshots.)
A/N: Buckle up my friends, this one is a longer one; but it became my absolute favorite one lol. This oneshot now definitely has a special place in my heart. Next part won't be up too soon as I'm busy with things, I hope y'all can understand, I can't wait to write my pookie Mingi's part lol. I hope you'll find it as funny as I do and don't shy away, leave feedback! Enjoy now!
Taglist: @pingyu-in-wonderland @marievllr-abg @lelaleleb @loveforred @horanghae8 @jeonghanscarat7 @orshii @mundayoonimnida @m3tavita @silentcry329 @icarusignite @cooljuni @sharksandminhos @mountiiny
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The life of a princess was lavishing and comfortable. The people around you always had everything you needed and would deliver it to you before you could even ask for it. It was as if they could read your mind, anticipate your thoughts and actions. Princesses were supposed to be beautiful and humble, respectful, with a smile always on their faces. They were supposed to hide their mouths when they laughed, never too loudly, of course, and they weren’t supposed to keep eye contact for too long with a man. Princesses were supposed to be well mannered and studious, and able to hold a conversation about any topic. Princesses were supposed to speak softly and slowly so that everyone could understand them, yet they shouldn’t speak up first, unasked. Princesses were supposed to hold their chins up high and stand with their backs straight, almost gliding when they walked, never allowed to run. Or to skip their beauty sleep, meaning they always had to go to bed early. Of course, they weren’t allowed to be seen with any man, other than their betrothed, and they weren’t allowed to sneak around. Princesses weren’t allowed to talk back to their parents and they had to accept whatever future they built for them. Princesses couldn’t say no to ruling if they were next in line to the throne and they also weren’t allowed to choose their own lovers. Not when they were supposed to marry the prince in the neighboring kingdom who was the same age as them, their marriage unifying two powerful forces: The Sun Rise Kingdom and The South Kingdom. But what was a princess supposed to do if their betrothed disappeared one day without a trace? If he got kidnapped by pirates and then never returned to his parents? To his Kingdom? To fulfill his duties as a monarch and man? What was a princess supposed to do then? I still haven’t figured out that part yet, but for once, I decided to take the reins in my owns hands and write my own future. If my betrothed could disappear off the surface of Earth, then I could do it too. And that is exactly what I did when I turned twenty. I waited for my mother to fall asleep and then quickly packed everything I deemed precious and important for my journey into a briefcase, then dressed in my maid’s clothes and made sure to conceal my face. I had to be swift with my escape and if anyone recognized me, I knew my mother would never let me out of her sight. I wanted to live a free life, to see what I would become if I was stripped of my title. Would I still live comfortably? Would people be finally genuine with me? And not pretend to like me for the sake of a title I inherited by being born into the royal Oh family? I wanted to see if I could fend for myself. But most importantly, I wanted to get away from my mother’s scrutinizing glares and sharp words reminding me daily of who I was. Princess Oh Y/N, next in line to the throne, still waiting for her betrothed to return. At some point I had given up on the fantasy of ever seeing him again. But my mother, however, vehemently believed that my prince would return soon and fix all of his wrongdoings. To be fair, I only remembered his family name at this point, Jung, and barely the shape of his eyes and their color back when he was eleven. We’ve met once in our lives, when we were eleven, and then never again. Because three days later, he was gone. Apparently captured and taken by pirates. Many believed he was dead, many believed he joined those pirates willingly. His family shut down those silly rumors quickly and reassured my mother that he would return and then we’d finally get married.
But I didn’t want to wait for him anymore. It was useless. I didn’t even love him or want him. I didn’t want a total stranger as my King. And as I ran as far away from the castle, heart thumping wildly and feet aching from such strenuous activity for my sheltered body, I realized I didn’t even want to become a Queen anymore. Why would I even want that? To become like my mother? Rigid and vengeful, always having to watch my steps because someone was out for my head? Her own husband tried to kill my mother, my own father, did I truly want that life? For my King to abandon me and wish harm upon me? I did not regret escaping the safety of my castle, of my nation, of my Kingdom. The sailor ship I snuck on was nasty and dirty, filled with drunken sailors as they screamed their lungs out, too wrapped up in their songs to notice a woman struggling to pull her briefcase over the railing. They either didn’t care, or I just hid too well, because they never even bothered looking for me the following days. They never came towards the supply room I was hiding in, and if they did, they quickly grabbed the rum off the shelves and then left the room, whistling loudly. I counted the days, somewhere around five, by the time we decked down. I had no idea where I was as I made a run for it, knocking a few sailors off their feet as I got off the ship, panting and struggling to carry my briefcase. Their shouts were loud but they never bothered chasing after me. I had no idea in which Kingdom I was in, perhaps it was still the Sun Rise, just a smaller island of it. I hoped that wasn’t the case, because I would be back home in no time if anyone recognized me. But in the three years I’ve been living on my own, my identity remained a secret to the people around me, nobody ever recognized me or suspected me of being royalty. Perhaps it was because I lived on one of the Nordic island’s from the South Kingdom, perhaps it was because people never looked for too long at you. They rarely questioned your origins or your life story. Here, everyone seemed to be busy with their own lives and problems. People also weren’t as nice and friendly as back home, but I found it refreshing. For once in my life, I felt like I was truly invisible, left alone and unbothered. Nobody pried for something which didn’t concern them and nobody forced their kindness on you, expecting you to return it one day. If someone here did something for you, it was because they wanted to and not because they secretly wished for you to do the same for them.
I found it easier to live here, the town I settled down in was well off and progressive. Women here were allowed to do as they wished, and so, they opened an institute for the younglings, where governesses would teach them everything they had to know about our world. Girls and boys alike were welcomed, poor and rich, their differences placed aside. The institute is where I found myself working, as a smaller governess, someone who taught the children etiquette. It was a sudden thought I had one night, as I was wondering how I would earn my own money since the one I brought with myself from the castle wouldn’t last me forever, and I realized that for once in my life I could use all of those years of living as a princess to my advantage. Everyone loved well-mannered, well-spoken and studious people, I found myself perfect to do such a job. So, the next day I walked to the institute and proposed to teach said subject and everyone was thrilled by the idea. I didn’t demand for a high pay, the cottage I was living in was fairly cheap when I bought it, and food here seemed to be a lot more accessible than back at my own kingdom. The only pricey items were my canvas, brushes, and colors. I loved to paint and I couldn’t imagine my life without it. Whenever I had free time, which I had lots at the castle, I would sit in the gardens and paint whatever I felt inspired by. Here, in the town, I had less free time, but I managed to balance my attention onto everything. The young mothers seemed to adore me and often brought cookies and delicious meals for me at the institute as a show of gratitude for the work I put in with their children, I often found myself not having to cook anything at home. Living here for the past three years has truly been liberating, however, I couldn’t deny it, I did find myself missing the posh lifestyle from time to time. Sometimes I would wake up in the morning and unconsciously reach for the bell to ring for my maids to come open the curtains and window for me. Or sometimes I would find myself sitting at my stand, painting, and if I forgot something I needed, I would scream the name of my most trusted maid, only to realize she wouldn’t be coming around. There were evenings when I was so tired I wanted someone to warm up the water in the bathtub for me and cook me a chicken noodle soup, but unfortunately, I now had to do all that by myself. I couldn’t complain, unless my body was aching from having a strenuous day, which happened less often lately. It was a comforting thought. It means that I was finally becoming familiar with the chosen lifestyle.
I had just finished up my lessons at the institution and after locking up, I walked to the market to see if I could buy some vegetables. It was late in the evening, but some vendors stayed out until the sun was setting. My favorite vendor was still there by the time I walked through the square and I quickly approached her, greeting her with a warm smile.
“Oh, dear,” She smiled back brightly, her hair a light gray color, “I had a feeling you would come by today, I waited for you.”
“You shouldn’t have, Mrs. Chwe.” I picked up two carrots and three potatoes, placing them in my handbag once Mrs. Chwe saw them, “Let me walk you back home, then. The sun will be soon gone, you shouldn’t walk alone.”
“Do not worry about me, dear.” Mrs. Chwe chuckled and handed me two tomatoes with a wink, “I know my way around here better than you do. Nobody casts a second glance at an old dame, unlike you—a beautiful young lady. You better head back quickly.”
I chuckled and grabbed ten pennies from my pouch, “I insist, Mrs. Chwe.”
“And I insist too.” She was a stubborn old lady, “You had a long day, I heard you stayed at the institute all day long. The headmistress stopped by not long ago.”
“Of course,” I chuckled and handed Mrs. Chwe the pennies. The headmistress loved to gossip and talk nonsense, it didn’t surprise me she was quick to let everyone know of my packed day. She was a lady I didn’t quite like, “Are you sure you don’t want me to wait until you pack up at least?”
“No, no.” Mrs. Chwe shook her head and ushered me away with her hand, “Go home and cook something tasty.”
“Alright, have a good night, Mrs. Chwe!” I bowed with a polite smile and the old lady waved briefly before she turned around with a sigh and started packing away the remained vegetables. I turned around and walked the way I have come, until the main road came to an end and I turned to the left, walking down the deserted street. People were getting inside their houses and getting ready for the evening, the squeals and laughter of little children in the gardens the only sounds besides my footsteps. I sighed and stared up at the sky for a brief moment, taking in the tranquility of the evening. I liked it when nobody was around after a long day. It allowed me time to shake off the stress and plan what I had to do the next day. I turned to the right, walking down a dirt path, small cottages on both sides. A few of my neighbors were out in the gardens or standing in their doorway, conversing with each other. My little cottage was second to last on our street and I walked up to the short stone covered path which lead to the back of the house, greeting my neighbor in the process as he was sipping his tea, holding a book to his face. The entrance was at the back of the house, and I didn’t mind. It was actually what convinced me to buy it. I liked the intimacy it offered. No one could see when I came and went, I knew a few mothers on our street liked to monitor everyone’s steps. I placed the handbag on the ground and reached for the key in my pouch, feeling around for it until I found it. As I pushed the key into the keyhole, I realized my door was unlocked. My eyebrows furrowed and I stared down at my hand, wondering whether I have locked it this morning or not. Did I not lock it? How could I forget such important thing? I scoffed and gently pushed the door open, grabbing the handbag off the ground and stepping inside. Dusk settled upon and it wasn’t bright anymore outside, or in the house, but you could still see well without a light source. As I closed the door behind me and looked ahead, I froze. There, an unknown man, was standing across from me in the room. His back was turned to me and his hands were behind his back as he seemed to be staring up at the wall. At my paintings. I stopped breathing, fearing that he could hear me. He probably heard me enter, yet he hasn’t moved. I carefully placed the handbag on the ground as I kept my eyes on the man, slowly and silently reaching for the vase standing on a stand to the left of the door. It was heavy and old, I brought it with myself from the castle. It was my great-grandmothers. It could also serve as a weapon if necessary. I took in the attire of the man and realized he wasn’t a lieutenant or soldier from the Navy, so he couldn’t have been sent by my mother. But then…who was he? His black cotton pants looked loose around his frame and I could see a white collar peeking out from underneath the heavy coat he was wearing. The jacket looked odd, old and patched up in multiple places, different fabrics stitched to the original one. I didn’t dare assume who this man was, but he looked like he wasn’t exactly a good guy. The second he hummed I knew I had to proceed, so I threw the vase towards him, aiming for his head, but before it could touch him, he jumped away. The vase crashed into the wall and shattered into million pieces, making me frown at the destroyed relic. My mother would kill me right now if she were here with me. The unknown man sharply whirled around, his face morphed into shock as he gasped loudly, dramatically.
“That could’ve been my head!” The man’s voice was squeaky as he pointed at the wall, which the vase initially hit. My eyebrows furrowed at the man’s words and I scoffed, eyes falling onto the pillows I had on the sofa. I didn’t dwell much on the thought just jumped on the couch and grabbed two bigger pillows as I hauled them in his direction. The man screeched as one hit him in the stomach and he suddenly took off towards me, face red.
“Stop right there!” I commanded, heart thumping wildly as I held another pillow out threateningly. The man suddenly froze and he eyed the pillow with narrowed eyes, scoffing when he looked back at me. His face was chiseled and sun-kissed, his jawline sharp. His full lips were cherry colored and his nose big and fitting for his face shape. His eyes weren’t too sharp and held friendliness in them despite the situation we found ourselves in, a mole stood proudly underneath his left eye.
“So, will you throw that one too?” He raised an eyebrow, taunting. His voice was smooth, sounded nothing like the screech he let out mere minutes ago. I gulped and glanced at the pillow I was holding before looking back at the stranger, a handsome one. Without saying anything I threw the pillow at him and he caught it easily, lips pulling up in a lopsided smirk. I quickly took the other two pillows, the last ones, and stood up, staring him down. He dropped the pillow and raised both hands in a motion of peace, but that moved his long coat, the handle of a sword glinting. I gulped before I looked back into his eyes.
“You don’t have to be so aggressive; I didn’t even do anything.” The man said with a tentative smile and my eyebrows furrowed.
“You broke into my home!” I answered incredulously and suddenly realized how smart it was to have soldiers littered around your castle. There was someone who’d be able to protect you from intruders, yet here I was, forced to defend myself on my own. I had to run away while I still could. I had no idea who this man was and what he wanted from me.
“Not my smoothest move, I admit—” The man cleared his throat, still holding his arms up, “But all of your windows were locked.”
“Of course, they were!” I exclaimed, irritated with the man, “So that they keep people like you out.”
The man chuckled and lowered his arms to cross them in front of his chest, “Yeah, and look where that got you—”
I threw one pillow forcefully, managing to knock it into the man’s face. I bit my lower lip to keep myself from laughing as his eyebrows were furrowed and he looked appalled, “Right as I was about to tell you how pretty those paintings are…”
I glanced briefly at my paintings, but took a step back when the man took one towards me, “Thank you, I made them myself. Will you kindly walk out of my house so that I don’t have to scream for my neighbors to call for the constable?”
“Would you not report me if I left now?” The man asked with both of his eyebrows raised and I smiled, remembering all those hours at the castle where I had to learn how to hide my own emotions and how to be persuasive.
“If you don’t harm me, I won’t.” I said softly and the man narrowed his eyes at me, leaning a bit forward, as if he was trying to get a better look at my face. I kept my face neutral and looked him back in the eyes, trying to read his emotions. But his face was a mask of blankness, just like mine, that is until he smirked smugly, stood up straight, and ran both hands through his jelled back black hair.
“I’m not here to harm you, princess.” I couldn’t help the involuntary flinch of my body at the mention of the title, but quickly covered it by starting to fidget around as if I was feeling nervous all of a sudden. The man watched me closely, same smirk still on his lips, “I’m not a savage like that, you know?”
“Then what do you want?” I asked quietly, feigning fear as I quickly made up my route of escape. I throw the pillow at his head again and dash for the door. Then I run down to my neighbor’s house and ask for help. Certainly this man wouldn’t follow through with his plans if I wasn’t alone anymore.
“Money, lots of it.” His answer sounded strangely genuine and I gulped.
“I don’t have much, but I can give it to you—”
“Here you don’t have much, princess.” The glint in his eyes suddenly made me nervous and I tensed, wondering whether that truly was just a nickname or he knew about my true identity. I let out a quiet breath and took the tiniest step towards the door, ready to proceed with my plan, “You wouldn’t have been able to bring much alone, right? Princess Oh Y/N?”
I gasped and gaped at him for a few seconds, millions of questions running through my mind. Who was he? Who sent him? How did he know? What did he want? But as he started looking smug again, I quickly jumped into action and threw the pillow at him, dashing for the door. I successfully flung it open and as I went to run away, a strong arm wrapped around my middle and yanked me back inside the house. I was pressed up against a hard chest and before I could scream, a foul-smelling handkerchief was pressed against my nose and mouth, the man forcing me to inhale it. I tried to wriggle out of his firm grip, but it was useless as suddenly the world started spinning around me, darkness wrapping around my mind before my body went numb, kidnapped by a dreamless sleep.
The first thing that bothered me was the overwhelming smell of cologne. It reeked of men in here as I blinked my eyes open, only to jump up from my sprawled-out position in the unknown bed. The room rocked from left to right violently and for a second I thought my head was spinning, but then I looked out the small circle window, eyes widening when a huge wave crashed against it. I whipped my head around, a horrible realization dawning up on me. I was in a room on a ship! My heart started thumping wildly as I jumped off the bed and stared with my mouth open at the two opened briefcases on the floor, filled with my belongings. Blank canvas and different colored acrylics were scattered around on the floor, and I looked down at my body, realizing that I was wearing my long black coat. That man! He kidnapped me! I wanted to throw something against the wall as I started pacing up and down in the room, realizing that whoever he was, his intentions couldn’t be pure. If we were still close to the shore, I could jump off the ship, and swim back to the beach. But if we were out in the open sea…I was doomed. Was he really here to take me back to my mother? I groaned as I ran my fingers through my hair, glancing at the door. Could it be unlocked? He wouldn’t be so clumsy to leave the door open, right? I hoped he was, because then I could try and escape. I took a deep breath and decided to try my luck as I walked up to the door and grabbed the doorknob. I counted to five before turning it and pushing the door open, making it horribly creak open. I grimaced and hoped nobody was in the corridor to hear it as I realized nobody stood in front of the door. My little moment of happiness was soon crushed as I went to take off towards the right but crashed into a firm chest, a gasp leaving my lips as I recoiled from the body. The sight of the same man who kidnapped me brought little comfort as he raised his eyebrows at me, hands placed on his hips, an almost scolding look on his face. I sighed and knew there wasn’t much I could do now, and as if he read my mind, he took a step towards me, making me take a step backwards.
“Escaping already, princess?” He asked with a chuckle, “I heard you’re good at that.”
My mother would’ve had a fit if she saw me rolling my eyes at the man. He took another step forward and I took another one backwards, back inside the room, “I don’t know who told you that I’m a princess, but they were wrong.”
The man’s face morphed into a fake pout, “I wonder how you made enough money in three years to buy that cottage then.”
“Sold the goods I owned.” My lie was too quick and simple. Nobody would believe it. He took another step towards me, making me back further inside the room.
“Sure you did, princess.” He scoffed and crossed his arms in front of his chest, “There’s no use to lying, I can smell a princess from miles away when I see one.”
“Disgusting.” I scrunched my nose, making the man’s eyes widen.
“Not like that!” He defended himself quickly before he sighed, “You know…there’s a large sum promised to the one who brings you back to your kingdom.”
I gulped and took another step back when the man proceeded to walk closer, “I figured I should try my luck and try and find you. It was a lot easier than I expected, I bet your mother misses you like crazy.”
“Well, I don’t miss her.” I snapped and jumped backwards when the man reached out for me, “And I don’t want to return, so I demand you free me. I can still pay you lots of pennies and even gold—”
“Ah, ah.” The man smirked and I stumbled onto the bed when he took another step, too close for my liking, “I want the royal gold, not second hand one.”
“It wouldn’t be second hand!” My voice rose a few octaves, outraged by his assumption, “What do you take me for?!”
“A spoiled princess who thought she could get away until the end of times by hiding away in a painfully small village, way too close to her own kingdom.” I opened my mouth and was quickly left speechless as the man leaned down; head too close to mine for comfort. I tensed and leaned my head back a bit, looking up into his eyes. There was a playful twinkle in them and he licked his lips, chuckling, “I must admit, you look nothing like you were described.”
I gasped in offence, leaning back into the man’s face as I glared at him, “You are one to talk you—ogre!”
Indeed, I admit my insult was weak and didn’t even make sense. The worst thing was the shrill, high-pitched, almost crazy sounding laughter which left the man’s mouth, head thrown back as he started hysterically laughing. My cheeks flushed a deep shade of red as I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms in front of my chest, averting my eyes as the man started to calm down as he wiped away tears from the corner of his eyes, eyes falling on my face. I knew he could read the embarrassment on my face; it was futile to try and hide it now, “That’s the funniest thing anyone has ever called me.”
I huffed and refused to look at him, that is until I felt his soft hands wrap around my wrists. His hands felt cold as I glanced down at them and then back into his eyes. He had amusement still written all over his face, lips pulled up into a grin. I narrowed my eyes, trying to figure out what he was about to do.
“You truly are a princess, princess.” He chuckled, his hands moving mine away from my chest, “You can’t even curse me out normally.”
“Oh, I can.” I smirked at him, making him raise an eyebrow, “I just choose not to, my genius is above that.”
“What a well-educated and well-mannered princess.” The man whispered and I gulped as I got lost in his warm brown eyes. His hands didn’t feel too cold anymore, however I felt something foreign against the skin of my wrist, something harsh. By the time I looked down my right wrist was yanked towards the headboard of the bed by a rope around it.
“What are you doing?!” I exclaimed as I tried to free my other wrist from his grasp, but he was quick as he overpowered me and pulled my wrist next to my other one, the rope already binding them together. My mouth fell open as I tried to free myself, moving as much as I could so that he wouldn’t tie me against the bed, but it did nothing as the man made an intricate knot and huffed as if it was the hardest mission of his life to tie me up, “You—you monster!”
The man stood back with his hands on his hips, looking very unimpressed. He squinted his eyes at me and then smiled fakely, “I’m not a monster nor an ogre, princess, I’m a pirate.”
“That’s even worse.” I sighed out as I moved my wrists, checking to see if there were any chances I could free myself. The man chuckled and stepped back, looking down at my belongings.
“You’ll have to clean up this mess at one point, I hate it when a place gets messy—”
“You do it, then.” I cut him off with a glare, tugging on the rope to no avail.
“I’m not your servant, princess.”
“Stop calling me princess.” I snapped, eyebrows furrowed as a grin stretched onto his lips, “I have a name, you know.”
“And so do I, princess, but I don’t hear you calling me that.” I groaned as I threw my head back, wondering whether he was doing this on purpose. Trying to annoy me.
“Because I don’t know your name, pirate, that’s why.” For a second the man looked surprised and then he scoffed, acting as if he hadn’t forgotten he never told me his name.
“It’s Wooyoung.” The man, Wooyoung, said and I looked at him, his name oddly familiar. Perhaps I have met someone with the same name before.
“Thank you, pirate, now I’ll know exactly who the royal guard will have to catch..” Wooyoung suddenly became serious as he threw an unimpressed glare my way, before wordlessly walking away. I stared at him wide eyed as he left the room, grabbing the doorknob as he stopped in the doorway and glanced back. Was he about to leave me alone? Tied against the bed?!
“What are you doing?! Where are you going?!” But Wooyoung didn’t answer as he smirked and closed the door, which creaked very loudly once again, and then walked away while whistling loudly, leaving me annoyed and frustrated as I tried to free myself form the bounds, but the rope burned my skin the more I tried. I stopped and groaned loudly, kicking my feet, making a mess of the blanket which was underneath me. This couldn’t get worse, right?
Two days of pure anguish passed by way too slowly, my arms sore and wrists burning from being bound to the bed for so long. No matter how much I asked Wooyoung to release me at least when I was eating, he would act like he was thinking about the idea, and then he’d smirk and draw out a no, then walk out of the room and leave me on my own, struggling to even grab the fork to eat my meal. The food was rather good, but I would never tell Wooyoung; I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that I appreciated at least one thing he did for me, which was as simple as bringing me food. In order to keep me alive, because eating is a necessity every human has. Even a princess. But to make matters worse, he’d leave the door slightly ajar, taunting me even more by how I couldn’t get to it. He made me want to conjure up all the swear words I knew and hurl them at him, curse him out like a sailor as if there was no tomorrow. Wooyoung was a very frustrating person. He would come and try and have a civil conversation with me, genuinely curious about the way I lived on my own for three years, and then suddenly, like a switch was flipped inside of him, he’d start grinning like a Cheshire cat, and the teasing that followed was relentless and sometimes even offensive. He loved pointing out the fact that I was a princess, and how I had everything always handed to me, acting as if I didn’t live on my own for three years without anyone’s acknowledgement of my true identity. He loved to blabber on about whatever he was supposed to do on deck, something about adjusting the sails accordingly to Jongho’s instructions, whoever that was. And then, as any regular man, he loved to show off his skills and talents. Yesterday while struggling to eat my dinner, he randomly pulled out his sword from his sheathe and took a step back in order to be able to show off his swordplay, shouting at nothing and stabbing the air as if his enemy stood there. I couldn’t help but gape at him, rice almost falling out of my mouth, which was very not princess like, until Wooyoung looked at me with the proudest expression on his face, making me burst out laughing. It was loud and so very unlike the way I would usually laugh, the feeling freeing, the shrillness of my squeals foreign even to myself. In my chaotic laughing fit I even managed to almost choke on the unchewed food in my mouth. Realizing what I was doing, I quickly covered my mouth with my hand and tried to quiet down, but one look at Wooyoung’s face made me burst out in laughter once again, tummy aching, as he looked at me with utmost confusion, eyebrows furrowed, and one hand on his hip as his other held the sword.
“Why are you laughing?” He had genuinely sounded offended, and I hiccupped as I forced myself to gulp down the food.
“Because—” I had to take a deep breath before continuing, “what are you doing, Wooyoung? Is this what pirates do? Fling their swords around in the air at nothing?”
“I’m not flinging my sword at nothing!” Aggravation filled his voice as he stared at me wide eyed, “I’m—I’m practicing this new technique San showed me.”
He didn’t sound very convinced, and I raised an eyebrow as I looked at him amused, “Is that it? Are you sure you aren’t trying to impress the princess?”
“As if!” Wooyoung scoffed appalled, and placed his sword back in its sheathe, “That’s least of my concerns.”
I grinned as I tried to lift the fork to my mouth to eat some more, “Yeah, well, I grew up around Navy soldiers, pirate, a weapon doesn’t impresses me anymore.”
“I wasn’t trying to impress you.” Wooyoung quickly defended himself, raising his chin high, the front strands of his hair falling back. His hair was relatively long, it framed over his face. I hated to admit it, but it looked really good. It suited him. I didn’t realize I had started staring until Wooyoung’s eyes snapped onto me, quirking an eyebrow as a smirk slowly etched onto his lips. I sighed loudly before averting my eyes, pretending that I wasn’t openly admiring him, just staring at him in disdain. I ignored the flush of my cheeks, knowing well that if I acknowledged it, then I would become embarrassed and blush even more. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he could make me blush. I dug around in my food, hissing when the rope cut into the skin of my wrist, unable to grab the last pieces of my rice, slowly becoming frustrated. I didn’t notice Wooyoung creeping closer, smirk still present on his face, clearly enjoying my struggle. I really hated being tied up. There was no logic behind it. Where would I run? Up on deck and then do what? Jump into the sea? I wasn’t suicidal, but it seems like Wooyoung didn’t want to understand that I had no intentions of running away. Because I had nowhere to run to. I hadn’t accepted my fate yet; I wasn’t going back to my Kingdom and to my castle, to my mother, to be locked up for an eternity while I wait for my long-lost betrothed. I didn’t want to rule. I didn’t even want to see my mother. I had asked Wooyoung to release me twice already, but he just shook his head and walked off whistling, a pleased look on his irritating face, annoying me like there was no tomorrow. I groaned quietly when I realized I wouldn’t be able to eat the last bite of my dinner, and clumsily threw the fork onto the plate, creating a loud clattering sound. I wonder how these porcelain silverware don’t break on a, sometimes, violently rocking ship. I raised my head with a loud sigh and my eyes widened when I found Wooyoung barely inches away from my face. He raised his eyebrows as I flinched back, putting distance between our faces, his breath fanned over my cheeks. I did not want him that close to myself. When he wouldn’t move away, I glared and placed the plate on the bed next to me, balling up my hands into fists, ready to fight if he tried anything. I didn’t know him and despite him looking harmless he was still a man, and a pirate. All the tales I have heard about them were horrible, and suddenly I felt unsettled as all emotion disappeared from Wooyoung’s face and he looked all over my face, as if he was trying to memorize my features. I gulped, suddenly flustered, my own eyes running over his handsome face. I always thought pirates would be ugly and old. Nobody has ever told tales of young and handsome pirates who returned princesses to their kingdoms. Wasn’t there a price on their heads? What horrible things has Wooyoung done? Suddenly, Wooyoung tsked, and I watched as his eyebrows furrowed.
“I swear,” He mumbled, rubbing his chin, leaning uncomfortably close, “I feel like I have seen you before.”
My heart somersaulted in my chest for an unknown reason, and my eyes briefly glanced at his plush lips, before I looked back into his eyes. I hoped he hadn’t seen my slip up, because I had a feeling he would definitely mock me for it later. Wooyoung, however, didn’t look familiar to me. I was positive I have never seen him before; his name, on the other hand, sounded peculiarly familiar.
“Of course, you have seen me before, idiot.” I snapped, trying to ignore the rapid beats of my heart, “I’m a princess. There’s portraits of me, you know?”
Wooyoung rolled his eyes, and finally, stepped back, but still not far enough. Our knees were touching as I sat by the edge of the bed, looking up at him as he huffed loudly, “I’m not talking about the portraits, silly.”
“Are you saying we have seen each other in person before, then?” I raised an eyebrow, intrigued by this peculiar thought of his. Where and how could we have seen each other before? It’s not like a pirate was often invited to join the socialite parties organized by the Queen herself. Unless Wooyoung wasn’t a pirate all his life. That thought made me gasp silently, and I allowed myself to look all over him again, eyes taking in his attire. Everything about his clothes screamed expensive and they looked fairly new. Not a speck of dust dirtied his outfit, and everything else looked exactly just like that on him, perfect. His buttons were all done, shirt tucked carefully inside his pants, and even the belt seemed to hang around his hips at a perfect angle. His hair, too, was styled and it seemed that he gelled it back in order to keep it out of his eyes. No dirt was smeared on his face nor clothes, and his stance seemed strong, shoulders pulled back, back painfully straight. I haven’t seen a pirate before, but this certainly wasn’t the way they looked. No matter how gentleman like they were.
“I doubt a princess like you roams places like the ones I do, so no, that’s impossible.” Wooyoung retorted, giving me a look which made it obvious that he thought I was dumb. My jaw clenched at his very subtle jab, but I just smiled at him sweetly, too sweetly.
“Unless you weren’t a pirate your whole life, Wooyoung, we might have crossed paths before then.” My sentence should’ve been laughed at, the thought quite out of place and nonsensical. I couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to be a pirate willingly. But the way Wooyoung’s body seemed to suddenly tense and eyebrows furrow was a reaction I did not expect. My eyes narrowed at him as he suddenly cleared his throat and stepped back, snatching the plate off the bed, “Do I happen to be right?”
Wooyoung didn’t answer straight away, just threw a glare my way before he grabbed the handle of his sword tightly. I eyed it as he scoffed, trying to play off the tense air around him, “A princess like you knows nothing, Y/N, stop being silly and shut up.”
“And a pirate like you wouldn’t be so defensive all of a sudden if I wasn’t right—”
“Ah, really, now.” Wooyoung cut me off with a smirk on his lips, again, leaning down to be eye level with me, “You just had to get mouthy when I was starting to debate whether to release you or not.”
My eyes widened as Wooyoung chuckled and ran for the door, just as my mouth opened, “Wooyoung! You nasty pirate, release me, right now!”
He was out the door before I could stop screaming at him, but he had the audacity to poke his head back inside with an amused look on his face, “You can’t command me around, I’m not one of your servants.”
“Yet you bring me everything I need, like a servant.” I fired back at it, a grin pulling onto my lips, the sudden anger disappearing for a few seconds, until Wooyoung slammed the door shut behind him without saying anything else. I let out a frustrated scream and trashed my legs around, until I registered the pain coming from my wrists, realizing I was straining the rope against the already damaged skin. My mother would kill me for turning up bruised after three years of not seeing me.
And I wished Wooyoung’s teasing stopped there, but it didn’t. The following day each time he came inside the room, he would somehow manage to pretend that he was going to release me, only to run away cackling as I just fell back against the hard mattress, biting my lip and blinking away the frustrated tears which threatened to fall. I did not want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry. It wasn’t worth it. In four more days I would be released, perhaps I could survive that much. Hopefully the rope wouldn’t create an actual wound against my fragile skin. It was somewhere around late evening, the light coming through the small window barely strong enough to light up the room I was held in. I figured it was Wooyoung’s room when he came to retrieve fresh clothes this morning, of course mocking me for not having escaped yet. Perhaps if the bounds weren’t so tight I might’ve done just that. I was sitting on the bed, back pressed against the wooden wall, sighing as I played with the pencil in my hand. I somehow convinced Wooyoung to hand me my sketchbook and a pencil, desperate to do something since I couldn’t sleep and stare out the small window all day long. But the light wasn’t enough anymore for me to see the lines I was creating, and my wrist was aching from drawing all day long. Suddenly, the door was slammed open and I jumped, tensing as I thought it was someone other than Wooyoung, but it was him. He was holding a lantern in his hand as he strutted inside while whistling, looking awfully happy and smug, as he cast me a glance from the corner of his eyes. I scoffed and stared up at the ceiling, refusing to look at him after he pretended to cut the ropes while I was eating lunch today. I did not appreciate his humorless jokes. Especially since he was mocking me with them.
“Enjoying the sunset, princess?” Hearing the title roll of his tongue so smoothly only irritated me furthermore, and I refused to answer as he placed the lantern on the desk. He brought that in just for me, actually. But I’d rather sit in darkness than be tied up. Wooyoung paused and placed his hands on his hips, looking at me expectantly.
“Not in the mood to talk? That’s new, you always have something to say.” I had to steel myself from rolling my eyes at him as he jutted his lips out in a disgusting pout. How was this man a pirate? Even if he were to threaten me with taking my life, I wouldn’t be able to take him seriously anymore.
“I see you’ve been drawing today.” He muttered, more to himself, as he approached the bed. He leaned one knee against the hard mattress and leaned forward, grabbing my sketchbook. I wanted to swat his hand away, but I didn’t react as I kept ignoring him. Perhaps he’d get bored of teasing me if I didn’t react any way and he’d go away.
“Oh,” Wooyoung’s eyebrows rose as he glanced at me, “have you seen our ship before?”
We made eye contact but I didn’t answer him as Wooyoung raised his eyebrows even more, waiting for my answer. But I remained unresponsive and he rolled his eyes, “Fine, don’t talk then. The drawing looks eerily similar to our ship, princess. That’s why I asked.”
He was quite dumb if he thought a princess like myself has seen a pirate ship before, let alone this one. Wooyoung dropped the sketchbook into my lap, lips pulled in a straight line as he remained leaning close to me.
“I was in a good mood before I came to visit you, what a pity.” Wooyoung sighed dramatically, eyebrows furrowing and mocking my voice suddenly, “I really thought of releasing you, but—your attitude needs some fixing so I’m giving you a lesson by not setting you free, understand?”
That was the last straw. The tone of his voice, the mocking and malice laced into it made my blood boil as my head whipped forward, face scrunched into a scowl. Before Wooyoung could even react, his proximity allowed for my left hand to smack against his cheek. Despite it being the back of my hand, the slap was strong and loud as Wooyoung jumped back with a loud cry, holding his reddening cheek. His eyes were rounded as he stared at me in shock, and I was breathing hard, glaring at him furiously. Nobody moved or said anything for a few seconds, and suddenly I heard hurried footsteps barreling down the hallway, headed our way. Thanks to Wooyoung leaving the door open, I watched as two men tumbled inside the room, eyes wide and hands on the handle of their swords as they looked around, assessing the situation. They both were tall, but the one on the left was taller, and his black hair was wavy. The man next to him had sharper features and his long hair was pulled into a half ponytail, his corset showing off his delicate curves. My mouth slightly dropped open at the sight, hardly believing that these two handsome men were pirates. But suddenly, the taller one looked at Wooyoung and burst out into loud laughter as Wooyoung whined with a childlike frown.
“Seonghwa!” He exclaimed like a little kid, making me look at him with wide eyes. Why did Wooyoung sound like he was about to tell on me to his mother?
“What are you two—” The taller man’s laughter boomed around us, it brought a smile on my own face, and Seonghwa, the ethereal looking man, seemed to throw him a subtle glare as he had to raise his voice in order to be heard. But Wooyoung left him no chance to speak.
“The princess whacked me—”
“You keep teasing me—”
“Because you’re entitled—”
“I’ve been living on my own for three years, for Heaven’s sake, how am I entitled—”
“You’re still a princess and you keep commanding me around—”
“So you keep mocking me that you’ll release me only to walk away?!” Wooyoung and I were screaming over each other at this point, silencing the taller man’s laughter too, and making Seonghwa look at us puzzled, “It hurts! My wrists are sore and I can’t feel my arms, Wooyoung!”
“Well—well—” Wooyoung went to scream back something, but all he did was open and close his mouth, eyebrows furrowed as he started rubbing his cheek. The tall man snorted loudly, but one look from Seonghwa quickly silenced him. He pinched the bridge of his nose before he cast me a glance, eyes softening for a second, only to turn into a glare as he looked back at Wooyoung.
“Wooyoung,” He started, voice steady and soft, “Why is the princess tied up?”
My head whipped back to Wooyoung as I waited for his answer, glare burning into his forehead as Wooyoung seemed to be avoiding looking at me. He gulped, but said nothing. The taller man had to bite his lower lip as his body started trembling, on the verge of another fit of laughter.
“Yunho.” Seonghwa snapped, “Stop it.”
“Sorry.” The man mumbled, barely, as he rubbed his stomach and jaw, eyebrows furrowing in a funny way.
“Wooyoung, I asked you a question.” Seonghwa said with a sigh and Wooyoung suddenly crossed his arms, looking like a child.
“I tied her up, because—” Wooyoung shrugged, licking his lips as he rolled his eyes, “I wanted to.”
“You bastard!” I snapped, glaring at him, making Yunho snicker until Seonghwa elbowed him in the stomach harshly.
“Untie her, now.” Seonghwa said, crossing his arms in front of his chest, looking at Wooyoung unimpressed. He looked like a parent who was scolding their mischievous child. Definitely didn’t fit the image I had of pirates in my head. But perhaps Seonghwa was a leaderlike figure, because Wooyoung grumbled quietly to himself, but grabbed a dagger from his boots, and looked at me with a glare. If it weren’t for already knowing Wooyoung, I perhaps would have been scared to have a pirate look at me like that with a weapon pointed my way, but all I could do was smirk at him. Wooyoung scoffed as he very slowly approached me, drawing out the action on purpose, taking his time in cutting the ropes as Seonghwa and Yunho watched. The later more amused as he kept giggling, making Seonghwa sigh until he had enough and pushed Yunho outside. I let out a sigh of contentment when the ropes were finally gone from my skin and stared at my bruised skin, hissing as I touched it. This would certain require some time to heal and it also wouldn’t be as painless as I had hoped, but at least I was free. Wooyoung said nothing as he stormed off, punching Yunho’s shoulder in the process when he walked past him, making the taller man burst out into laughter again as he followed after his fellow mate.
“I’m sorry for the discomfort caused, princess, but I had no idea Wooyoung was treating you like that.” Seonghwa’s voice was oddly soft and friendly as he stepped further inside, grabbing the rope and gathering it up in his hands. His words made it sound like Wooyoung was doing something very horrible to me and I had the sudden urge to clarify the situation.
“He didn’t hurt me,” I spoke up, looking at Seonghwa warily as he shook his head slightly, “and he fed me regularly, it’s just that—I was rather frustrated by his constant teasing. Hence why I reacted the way I did, I know it wasn’t particularly nice.”
Seonghwa suddenly chuckled and looked at me with an amused twinkle in his eyes, “You’re rather protective of your kidnapper and captor’s actions, princess.”
“I am not!” My response was too quick, it made Seonghwa chuckle. I looked away embarrassed, and crossed my arms in front of my chest.
“Well, then…” He cleared his throat and stepped back, pocketing the rope, “You’re free to do whatever you want while you’re on the ship, except jump into the water. I can assure you that we will not save you by sacrificing one of our own. Your mother wants you back safe and sound, princess, we’re not here to harm you, we’re here to collect the copious amount of payment.”
“You mean Wooyoung is? Since he was the one to find me…” My voice got small as Seonghwa hummed and headed towards the door.
“Indeed, Wooyoung is, but he’s nice enough to share it with his brothers.” Seonghwa grabbed the doorknob as he stepped outside, “I wish you a pleasant evening, princess.”
“You too, pirate.” I bowed my head as Seonghwa bowed his, and then he closed the door behind himself. I quickly jumped out of bed and stretched my legs and back, moaning at the pleasant feeling of my bones finally popping, and my muscles pulling. Wooyoung could’ve avoided all of this ruckus if he were nicer.
I couldn’t have been more excited to finally breathe in fresh air, so, after breakfast I was already up on my feet and changing into a baby blue silk dress, one of my favorites’, which I had brought with myself from the castle. It screamed richness as the collar was decorated with royal opal stones and it missed its matching headpiece, my tiara. I didn’t have the heart to bring that with myself when I left, scared that it would be a giveaway of my origins. After all, the royal opal was a significant gemstone of the Oh family and of the Sun Rise Kingdom. Seonghwa had been kind enough to show me where the washroom was, a small chamber with a barrel inside, which served as a bathtub; it was rather horrifying, until I reminded myself that I was currently on a pirate ship. I couldn’t wrap my mind around having to live like this. Wooyoung, for once, seemed to be avoiding me as he brought me breakfast and left wordlessly or without even glancing my way. I was ready to put our little shenanigans past us and greet him a good morning, but he barely stepped inside and placed the tray of food on the end of the bed before he was already gone, shutting the door after himself roughly. If it wasn’t for Seonghwa coming to check up on me thirty minutes later, I perhaps would’ve burst out crying from having to sit all dirty and coped up in this annoying pirate’s room, which still smelled strongly of cologne. This was also peculiar, because when I started walking down the corridors, all kinds of smells invaded my nose, making me feel nauseous. For a pirate, Wooyoung oddly smelled like a prince. Gripping the skirt of my dress, I slightly lifted it so that I could climb up the stairs, headed towards the blinding sunlight. The salty air felt refreshing as I arrived onto the deck, the wind slightly stronger than it usually would be on the beach back in the village I lived at. The sky was crystal clear, no clouds decorating it, and the vast sea was a beautiful deep blue, glistening and foaming as the ship sailed smoothly. I had approached the railing and looked over it, marveling at the beauty around myself, never having seen such sight before. When I escaped from my kingdom I was forced to hide under the deck the whole ride, I didn’t have the opportunity to look at the sea. There was something very calming and beautiful about it, I loved sitting on the beach in the evenings and watching the sunset. Suddenly, my heart clenched when I realized I would no longer be able to do that, the city where the royal Oh family resided was a four-hour long carriage ride away from the beach, my mother would never allow me to travel back and forth.
“Careful, you might fall over.” A very deep voice suddenly spoke up next to me and I was startled as I stepped back from the railing, looking to my right. A friendly looking man stood next to me; his lips pulled into a small smile. His angelic features didn’t match his low voice at all. I smiled at him and bowed my head slightly.
“Seonghwa told me you wouldn’t rescue me if that happened.” I said with a chuckle and the man’s eyebrows furrowed.
“That is quite incorrect, we don’t leave one of our own behind.” The man said with conviction and glanced past me, eyes slightly narrowing. I followed his gaze and my eyes settled on Seonghwa, who was gripping the wheel and holding a binocular to his eye as he gazed out towards horizon.
“Perhaps he was trying to scare me, then.” I chuckled and looked back at Yeosang, offering him my hand, “My name is Y/N.”
“My name is Yeosang.” He took my hand, and to my surprise, swiftly pressed a kiss against it, slightly curtsying, “Pleasure to meet you, Princess Y/N.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle as I pulled my hand back, having not been treated with such respect in the past three years. The feeling was foreign, yet it felt right. I didn’t miss it, but for the first time I felt like someone on this ship truly respected me. Unlike with Wooyoung, I could see myself becoming fond of Yeosang. And then, suddenly, there was a quiet squeak behind him, and he slightly turned his head, a fond smile appearing on Yeosang’s lips as he looked down. My eyebrows furrowed, and I tried to look over his shoulder to see what he was looking at. Then his lips moved, but his voice was low and the crashing of waves completely overrode his words. I stood watching curiously as Yeosang nodded, and suddenly, a head popped out from behind his shoulder. My eyes instantly widened as I looked at the young girl, her sharp eyes wide with wonder and admiration as her eyes quickly stopped on my dress.
“This is Hana.” Yeosang’s hand suddenly gripped the girl’s, their fingers intertwined. She looked so small next to him, she was smaller than even myself, and I wasn’t a very tall woman, “She’s shy, but she wanted me to tell you that she adores your dress.”
My lips pulled up into a wide smile as I beamed at her, gripping the fabric of my dress, “Thank you, Hana! It is my favorite dress, actually.”
“You’re pretty too, Princess.” Hana’s voice was velvety and quiet, but I heard her. I bowed my head and her eyes widened as she quickly bowed back, seemingly not knowing how to react. She was wearing clothes like the rest of the pirates, albeit the shirt seemed too big for her frame, and a belt held the pants against her narrow hips. She looked a bit malnourished, but her cheeks were full of color despite her pale complexion.
“Thank you, Hana, you’re very lovely yourself.” Hana’s lips pulled up into a huge smile and her head turned quickly as she beamed up at Yeosang. The man’s attention seemed to be on her only, his ears-tinged red, as he nodded at Hana, a proud glint in his eyes. Hana’s cheeks were pink and she hid herself behind Yeosang, completely disappearing. It was endearing watching the two, watching how Yeosang’s built frame offered the girl protection, shielding her from unwanted eyes and any harm.
“She’s still learning how to accept compliments.” Yeosang explained and I nodded, not wanting to probe for a reason, nevertheless still curious. Yeosang placed his hands in his pockets and slightly bowed his head, “We’ll be on our way, Princess, we’re quite busy today. Taeri and I have collected some new herbs, and I’m excited to make a new tea I have learned not so long ago.”
Taeri. So there was one more woman on this ship besides Hana. It felt nice knowing that I wasn’t the only female surrounded by slimy pirates, although they proved to be quite the opposite of slimy. Yeosang’s comment caught my attention, however, people who knew how to use herbs to make teas were usually healers, “Excuse me, Yeosang, do you happen to be a healer?”
“I’m a doctor, actually.” He corrected and I let out a sigh of relief before I slightly pulled the sleeve of my dress up on my left arm. Yeosang’s eyes fell onto my wrist, eyebrows furrowing when he saw the red skin and dark bruises, “That isn’t good. It hurts, right?”
I nodded wordlessly and noticed Hana just barely poking her head over Yeosang’s shoulder, standing on her tip toes, but she quickly cringed away when she saw the bruises. They didn’t even look that bad, but perhaps she had a reason why she reacted that way.
“I will stop by after lunch with some ointment and a tea, you’re staying in Wooyoung’s room, right?” Yeosang asked with a smile and I nodded with a long sigh, making Yeosang chuckle, “Well, then you’re never bored.”
“I wish I was.” I muttered as Yeosang and Hana passed by me, Hana slightly waving at me before hiding her face in Yeosang’s back. I chuckled and smiled after them, the scent of freesias’ strong as they passed by. I watched the two as they disappeared below deck, Hana bouncing off the stairs more freely when it was just the two of them. I couldn’t help but feel happy that nice people were present on this ship and that I felt like I was welcomed here. As I looked around, I noticed Seonghwa had abandoned his post and was leaning against the railing of the quarterdeck, nodding his head in acknowledgment as we made eye contact. Another man had taken his place at the wheel, significantly shorter than Seonghwa, and with eyes sharper, and an aura which screamed dominance. His hair was blonde and the back strands had reached his shoulders, a black cloth was wrapped around tightly over his shirt on his right bicep. It didn’t take long to realize he was the Captain. I sighed, and turned around, realizing that I still didn’t have much to do. I was free, but still captive in some way and since I was a princess on a pirate ship, I really couldn’t do anything else than stay in Wooyoung’s room all day long and come up on deck for some fresh air from time to time. And perhaps that was the smartest choice, because as I decided to head downstairs, I caught the eyes of some older looking pirates, which looked just like I had imagined them. They were leaning against some barrels, sharpening their knives and daggers as their eyes followed every movement of mine. I gulped and hugged myself around my middle as I straightened my back; a princess never shows weakness. The pirates chuckled, seemingly amused by my actions, and I held my chin higher as I went to take off, only for my upper arm to be gripped and slightly pulled back. The stench hit me first, before I could even turn around, and I yelped once I came face to face with a very old pirate who looked like, and smelled like, he hadn’t had a bath in years. One of his eye was fully white and his beard awfully outgrown, clothes ragged, and a stain on his cheek which I could only hope was some sort of oil.
“Royal flesh on the ship—” The pirate spat on the floor and I gasped, taking a step back but his grip on me didn’t allow for me to go too far, “Flaunting ye wealth while we rot away. Shark food is what ye are, rat. I might push ye over—”
“Easy, mate,” I never heard him approaching us, let alone unsheathing his sword, but it was pressing against the old pirate’s Adam’s Apple in a blink, “Don’t play with something that isn’t yours. Release her, now.”
“Claimed her as yers, eh?” The old pirate grinned sickly and a few of his teeth were missing, eyes twinkling as he looked Wooyoung in the eyes. I tugged on my arm, but the man’s grip wasn’t easing up just yet.
“The Princess is mine, mate, and I don’t like it when someone touches what’s mine.” Wooyoung’s voice dropped dangerously low and my eyes widened as I looked at him, his glare on the man menacing. The old pirate just laughed, a throaty and hoarse sound, before suddenly his grip was gone as Wooyoung’s sword was swiftly raised in the air, coming down towards the man’s wrist. The old pirate yelled and jumped backwards, clutching his unharmed wrist to his chest, eyes crazed and wide as he stared at Wooyoung, “Go tell your old little friends that if anyone touches the Princess their hands won’t be no more. Both hands.”
“The Captain will hear about this—”
“And he’ll do nothing about it,” Wooyoung smirked smugly as he pressed the sword against the wooden floor, leaning his weight against it as his hands rested on top of the handle, “I’m sharing the prize with him, do you think he won’t side with me?”
“Royal scum.” The old pirate spat and wobbled off, his comment making Wooyoung laugh as he placed his sword back onto its sheathe. I watched as the old man joined the pirates who had been previously eyeing me hungrily and spoke furiously to them, probably recounting what happened just seconds ago. Wooyoung looked at me for the first time today, and I couldn’t help but let out a shuddered breath. I wasn’t so safe on this ship, after all, and not all pirates were like Wooyoung. Or like Seonghwa, Yunho, and Yeosang. I subconsciously rubbed my wrist, wincing at the pain; I had forgotten they were bruised. Wooyoung’s eyes followed my actions and he gulped when I showed signs of pain, but didn’t speak up.
“Thank you for that.” I said quietly, suddenly feeling shy as I looked away. Wooyoung hummed and rubbed the back of his head, patting his sleeveless tank top down. His clothes seemed to be fresh once again. How did a pirate constantly wear a new set of clothes, wardrobe never seeming to empty out? Did they even have that much money? Why did the pirate say royal scum? Did he refer to me? Then why did he say it to Wooyoung? My eyebrows furrowed as I looked back at Wooyoung, who seemed rather modest despite helping me out. I thought he’d be smugger about it.
“No need to thank me, it’s the least I could do.” He shrugged and cleared his throat, “Uh, you’re—you’re not mine, I just had to make sure that man wouldn’t bother you anymore. Pirates tend to be…more possessive of what’s theirs so, uhm, by saying you’re mine I made it clear that if he touched you he’d be facing punishment.”
I could’ve sworn Wooyoung was blushing, but he turned his head around, pretending to be looking for someone as his eyes searched the deck. I appreciated his explanation, but for some weird reason I didn’t find it infuriating that he pretended to claim me. By no means was I an object to be claimed, but the way he said it…it felt different. Like it meant more than just a simple claim. Before my thoughts could steal me away from reality, a man called out for Wooyoung.
“Stop flirting with the Princess and bring your ass over here!” It was Yunho, and he was standing next to a man I hadn’t met yet, but he was glaring at the arm Yunho had slung over his shoulders before he went and brushed it off, “Jongho is upset again, you overslept and didn’t do your duties.”
Wooyoung groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose as he glanced back at me, “Sorry, princess, but I have to tend to my real duties now.”
I couldn’t help but allow a smirk to sneak onto my lips, “So, you do admit that the other day you were just trying to impress me if whatever you’re about to do is your real purpose on this ship.”
“Yeah, I—what?!” Wooyoung exclaimed appalled and his eyebrows furrowed, “I wasn’t trying to impress you, stop making things seem like something they aren’t!”
“But you just almost confessed to it.” I smiled sneakily and Wooyoung groaned.
“Go have a beauty sleep, princess, you look like you need one.” I gasped, but before I could throw an insult back at Wooyoung, he ran off to Yunho and Jongho, I assume, getting tackled into a headlock by the man I wasn’t familiar with yet. I held my chin high and turned around, storming down the stairs and towards Wooyoung’s room, knowing that he stored a mirror in one of his drawers, eager to see whatever he was talking about. There was no way I didn’t look spectacular today, I made sure there were no signs that I barely got a wink of sleep since I had gotten onto the ship. Outrageous. Wooyoung was so annoying.
Another day had gone by fast without much happening on the ship. Wooyoung was busy with that Jongho pirate, apparently he had been slacking off lately and the Captain had summoned him this morning, asking for an explanation. When Wooyoung didn’t show up with breakfast, I thought about wandering around in search for the kitchen, but Seonghwa beat me to it as he brought me breakfast and let me know that I might be seeing less of Wooyoung the following days. I didn’t mind, in fact, I was grateful that he wouldn’t chew off my ears anymore; at least now I had a little bit of peace of mind before we reached my Kingdom and castle. It gave me time to figure out a plan which would help me escape my mother once again. I knew she’d hate me and probably exile me from the Kingdom, but it’s exactly what I wanted. To get rid of my royal duties as next in line to the throne. I didn’t want to rule in a place which felt like a prison, in a place which wasn’t complete without its King, and in a place where I would never be taken seriously. All of my mother’s advisors dislike me, and had always been against me inheriting the throne, always encouraging my mother to try for another baby in hopes of it being a boy so that he’d bear the crown. But my mother didn’t want another child as her labor was difficult with me and she almost lost her life in the process of giving birth. I was her only hope, and despite that, all I kept doing was disappoint her. I should’ve felt bad about it, but I stopped caring when she started becoming more and more demanding and pressuring. Perhaps if I could somehow convince her that I was back for good and intended on staying, that I have matured and grown to regret my decision, I would earn her trust again, after all I am her only child, then perhaps she’ll crown me and unknowingly fall into my trap. She’d willingly and legally hand over all the fortune which I would run away with later, once I have ruled for enough time to get everyone off my back. But for that…I need someone on my side, someone who would help me. But who would be that person? I didn’t know many people who would do that for me, let alone whom I trusted enough to tell the plan to. Perhaps…would a pirate be interested in playing along with me if I promised enough gold in return for their services?
That was a question I didn’t know the answer to, and I sighed as I glanced back up at the horizon, sky coated in dark shades of pink mixed with purple and a little bit of orange. The sun was setting, creating a beautiful landscape as the ship swayed gently side to side. A few clouds decorated the sky here and there, promising a storm free night. The breeze was gentle as I sat by the railing, feet pushed through the gaps and dangling off the side of the ship as I swayed my legs from time to time, trying to avoid numbness in them. My right hand held my sketchbook as I held a dark blue crayon in my left hand, drawing out the waves onto my drawing. A few more colored crayons sat carefully by my thigh as I made sure they wouldn’t roll away; my heart would break if I lost any colors. I couldn’t live without painting or drawing; it was the one thing I couldn’t leave behind alongside with my title.
The setting was peaceful, and I enjoyed the fresh air and solitude for as long as I could, no pirate in sight as the deck was empty. I thought they never left the deck unsupervised, but perhaps so far out in the sea there were no dangers of other people showing up. Or perhaps these pirates were just confident about their combat skills and they didn’t have to be on the lookout at all time. However, the girl sitting next to me was so quiet, that I completely forgot about her existence if it weren’t for her sneezing, making me jump. My eyes widened as I turned my head and looked at the petite girl, her cheeks rosy as she looked away embarrassed. She has been sitting by my side for the past hour, not saying a word, just watching my drawing. She looked curious as her wide eyes watched carefully each swipe of my hand, her fingers sometimes itching as she reached out, only to sit back and place her hands underneath her thighs. I didn’t know if she whether wanted to be acknowledged or not, so I remained silent, and allowed her the choice to speak up or remain silent. She seemed content in my presence, and it made me smile to myself as she gasped when I created ripples in the water on my sketchbook, leaning forward on her hands as she pocked her head closer.
“Are you feeling cold, Hana?” I asked as I stopped drawing, looking at the younger girl. She jumped and quickly leaned back; cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Her nose was red and she had started sniffing as she sneezed again. When Hana realized I wouldn’t continue drawing until she gave me an answer, she quickly shook her head no. I nodded, but decided to take off my shawl from around my shoulders, and hand it over to her. Hana eyed the piece of clothing curiously, reluctantly taking it, “You keep sneezing, wear it, so you don’t catch a flu.”
“Oh, Princess—” Her eyes widened as she bowed her head deeply, her hands clenched, “I really shouldn’t—”
“You most certainly should, Hana,” I chuckled and placed the shawl on her lap, “I insist. Besides, I’m sure Yeosang would be rather worried if you suddenly were to become sick.”
“I’d rather not have him worried about me again…” Hana whispered and quickly wrapped the shawl around her shoulders, the orange fabric complementing her skin tone. I hummed and went back to drawing, the late evening breeze was colder, and it made goosebumps erupt on my skin. I should follow my own advice, and head back to Wooyoung’s room soon, get ready for bed and dinner. It wouldn’t be long until he’d bring me dinner, perhaps I still had time to quickly wash up. I watched from the corner of my eyes as Hana followed each movement of my hands with her eyes, lips opened in awe, looking like she was trying to memorize each line I was drawing.
“Tell me, Hana,” I spoke up as I grabbed the orange crayon, “Do you happen to enjoy drawing?”
Her eyes widened and she nodded eagerly, her lips pulled into a wide smile, “I do, Princess! I have made a few sketches myself ever since Yeosang gifted me some canvas and pencils.”
“I actually prefer to paint, but I think the pirates would’ve been outraged if I brought my whole equipment up here.” I rolled my eyes and Hana chuckled, hiding her blush with the shawl.
“Some of them are actually really nice, and Taeri is very helpful and attentive—” Hana abruptly looked away, it looked like she was about to cry, “they take good care of you here, it’s weird. I bet you expected them to be barbarians, Princess, and yet sometimes these men act like little children.”
I laughed quietly and nodded, thoughts straying to Wooyoung. He definitely didn’t act like a pirate, his antics resembling that of a spoiled little child. Taeri I have met earlier today, when she came to Wooyoung’s room, asking if I needed anything or if Wooyoung was bothering me in any way. She had a very motherly aura as we conversed, and I was surprised to find out that she had been living on the ship for ten years now, a pirate herself. Before our conversation could stray to the reason why I ran away from home, Yunho came looking for her, boyish grin on his lips as Taeri told him she’d be joining him in a second. Apparently, they had to check out the supply room, making sure we had enough of everything until we reached land. As I went to close the door after Taeri and Yunho’s departure, I caught a glimpse of Yunho pressing his lips against Taeri’s neck, pushing her down the corner as they disappeared from sight. I closed the door with a shake of my head, wondering if Wooyoung had anyone like Taeri in his life. The thought was sudden and surprising, and before I could dwell more on it, I quickly shook my head and went to dig through my briefcases, searching for something which would keep me warm if I went up on the deck.
“They certainly left an impression on me,” I said with a chuckle, making Hana nod, “but I can’t help feel resignment towards them, especially Wooyoung. He’s the one who captured me, and he is the reason why I’ll be seeing my mother in just a few days—”
“But being a princess must be so nice, I can’t find a reason why I would run away if I was in your place, Princess.” Hana cut me off, words tumbling out of her mouth eagerly, as her eyebrows were furrowed. I hummed and looked off in the distance, eyes unfocused as my grip loosened on my sketchbook. Yes, perhaps, this is how outsiders think of a privileged life. They don’t really have a chance to find out about our hardships, and even then, are we allowed to whine and complain? Are we allowed to wallow in desperation when other people have it so much harder? When other people barely have anything, and are fighting to survive day to day, meanwhile I cry myself to sleep because my mother wouldn’t allow me to paint unless I have attended my etiquette class? As I turned to look at the girl next to me, I couldn’t help but wonder about what her life was like. Wonder what her biggest worries and fears were, anything which would take my head out of the gutter and ground me back to reality. Here I was, on the verge of throwing a fit about not wanting to return home, when the girl next to me seemed to jump at any loud sounds, seemed to become smaller when a man came into sight, seemed to hesitate every time she spoke up, seemed to have scars peeking out from underneath her long sleeves. She was pure and innocent yet the look in her eyes made her look older, tired, and horrified of the world around her, as if she’s seen horrors nobody else has. I didn’t have it in me to tell her the reason why I didn’t want to return home, it felt like I would be making fun of her, taunting her even, so, instead I dodged her question as best as I could.
“Please, call me just Y/N,” I smiled at her and watched as her cheeks turned pink, “I haven’t been a proper princess for three years, it doesn’t feel right.”
“Oh, alright, I shall do that—” Hana seemed to struggle for a second until she ducked her head and whispered, “Y/N.”
I smiled fondly at her and nodded, looking down at my almost finished drawing. The sun had almost disappeared and the air has turned cold, making me shiver. I grabbed a purple crayon and quickly finished the sketch, bringing it up to my eyes, making sure it was finished. I could see Hana lean closer, wide eyes filled with curiosity as I turned towards her and handed her the sketchbook. She looked surprised, but eager as she took it from my hands, staring at the sketch in awe. Her small fingers delicately traced the same lines I had done minutes ago, eyebrows furrowed as she examined my technique.
“It’s for you, Hana, you can keep the drawing.” I found myself saying, taken aback when Hana looked at me with tearful eyes. She was smiling still, but she looked overwhelmed. I didn’t know what to do or say, taken aback by her reaction, so I settled for, “It’s a gift, so you can’t refuse it.”
It made Hana cry and my eyes widened as I panicked, thinking that I have said something wrong, but she quickly clutched the sketchbook to her chest, and smiled so widely her cheeks must have hurt, “Nobody has ever given me a gift so beautiful!”
I felt my heart warm at her words and I chuckled, leaning forward to wipe a tear off her cheek, “Don’t cry, Hana, your eyes will be puffy in the morning.”
She giggled and wiped her tears away quickly, bowing her head in thankfulness, “Thank you, Princess Y/N.”
“You said you only had pencils?” I raised my eyebrows as I grabbed the crayons from next to me. Hana nodded as she carefully ripped the page I have gifted to her out of the sketchbook before she handed it back to me. I took the sketchbook and grabbed her wrist, turning her palm, “Take the crayons too. The world would be so grim without colors, I’m sure your drawings will look even prettier with them.”
I placed the crayons in her palm and Hana gasped, gaping at me as I stood up and dusted off the skirt of my dress, bringing my arms around myself in order to try and warm up. Hana scrambled to her feet, and having noticed that I was feeling cold, she went to hand back the shawl, but I stopped her with a raise of my hand, “Keep it, I have plenty of shawls like that one.”
“Oh, Princess—” She brought a hand to her mouth as her lower lip trembled and I just chuckled, feeling slightly concerned. What has happened to this girl before that she was reacting in such way? I’ve never seen anyone so overwhelmed at the simple action such as receiving gifts, “I am so grateful! Thank you so much! I don’t—I don’t even know how to repay you—actually! Come join us for dinner tonight…Ara will sing for us, I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. Her voice is so pretty, and she’ll be so happy to sing for a Princess like you, Y/N.”
“There’s another girl on the ship?” I asked surprised, eyebrows raising as Hana grabbed my arm softly, and started pulling me towards the stairs.
“Yes, but she rarely leaves her room. She’s—” Hana stiffened for a second, I wouldn’t have caught it if she didn’t stop walking, “San doesn’t like letting her out of his sight, he’s—Would you like to meet Ara before dinner?”
I listened to Hana with furrowed eyebrows, taking in the new information, slightly confused about who San was. Wooyoung mentioned him once briefly, something about learning something from him, but I haven’t seen the man yet. I hadn’t even known there was another woman on the ship, nobody ever talked about her, it was peculiar. But Hana seemed very eager, and so I nodded, not wanting to ruin her good mood as she pulled me after herself, leading us underneath deck. She turned to the left and walked down the corridor, we passed by four doors, until she suddenly stopped walking. I almost ran into her, but noticed in time. Hana was suddenly tense, and I looked down at her, eyebrows raised, but she quickly let go of me and pressed herself up against the wall.
“Her room is the last on the left—” A loud crashing sound echoed down the corridor and Hana sucked in a deep breath, “I—I can’t go closer, I’m sorry, I should walk you there, but I—”
“It’s fine, Hana.” I stopped her rambling, offering her a comforting smile. Hana gulped loudly and nodded, looking down at the floor, “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”
She nodded quietly and slipped past me, figure tense, “I’ll see you at dinner then, Y/N. Thank you for the gifts.”
“Of course, I’ll see you later then.” I bowed my head back as Hana curtsied, and turned back towards the end of the corridor, wondering why Hana wouldn’t walk me to Ara’s door. I thought she would like to see the girl, but perhaps I was wrong. I sighed and took off again, but the closer I got, the louder the voices were from one room. As I came face to face with the door Hana told me about, the mentioned voices seemed to come from inside, loud and angry. It was mainly a male voice, shouting about something he didn’t care about as he claimed that it was his job and nobody could stop him from doing it, and then, a shrill feminine voice shouting back that he couldn’t do this, that he was hurting people and ruining lives. I gulped and was about to walk away when the feminine voice shouted for the man to get out, and suddenly, the door was ripped open and I found myself face to face with a fuming man, who’s sharp eyes looked like they could kill anyone if he stared at them long enough. His chest was heaving, jaw clenched as he took me in. I glanced behind him and found a shorter girl, crying, as her big brown eyes stared back at me. Why were all the girls crying here? Suddenly, the man hissed, and I straightened my back, giving him a glare.
“What do you want?” He snapped, glaring me down.
“Is that Ara?” I asked as I glanced at the girl again, who was quick to wipe her tears away and pat her short hair down.
“What do you want from her?” The man now blocked my path, chest puffed out and stare pinning me to my place. But that wouldn’t work on me, I have been facing scarier looking men compared to him since a young age.
“I would like to talk to her—”
“No, walk along now—” The man didn’t even let me finish my sentence as he cut me off, nose flaring as he became angrier. Perhaps this person was San, Hana did say he never let Ara out of his sight.
“I am here,” I was the one to cut off his words now, taking a step closer as we stared each other down, “to talk to Ara. Whether you like that or not, it will happen, pirate. Step aside.”
The man scoffed and narrowed his eyes at me, sneering, “We aren’t in your fucking palace, Princess, you won’t command me around. Do you even know who I am?”
I chuckled, crossing my arms in front of my chest, “Do I have to know? Clearly, you are a very overbearing person who’s getting on my nerves right now. You should do what I ask while I’m being nice, pirate.”
“Listen here, spoiled brat—”
“That is not how you talk to a Princess!” Ara shrieked and before the man or I could react, she was by his side, pulling him away from me. I watched the two with narrowed eyes, glaring at the man as he scoffed, but looked at Ara when she grabbed his bicep, “San, treat her with respect, she’s royalty. The next Queen.”
“I don’t give a fuck about who she is.” He chuckled, but it was humorless. Ara bit her lower lip and spare me a quick glance before she took a deep breath.
“San, please—”
“I said no, Ara, you’re not going with her.” San snapped, and shook Ara’s grip off himself, “So that she can feed more bullshit into your head?! Like Taeri has? No, Ara. Get lost, Princess.”
San’s eyes snapped onto me, glaring as he went to slam the door in my face, but before I could react, Ara was stood in front of him, standing in the doorway, and not allowing him to close it. I watched with furrowed eyebrows as Ara grabbed San’s cheeks and brought their foreheads together. San’s body grew tense and his jaw clenched as the girl clung onto him.
“Please,” Ara’s voice was barely over a whisper, I strained my ears to hear her words, “I—I will stop. Everything. San, please, let me walk with her. No more Taeri, I will never talk to her again, I promise just—let me talk to the Princess. It’s my only chance to be around royalty, you know that.”
San swiftly grabbed Ara’s nape, leaning slightly down so that they would be eye to eye. He raised his right hand and pointed his forefinger at the woman, “You better keep your word, angel, or else you will regret it.”
Ara nodded wordlessly and after an uncomfortable moment of silence, San released her and stepped back, sharp eyes falling on me. His demeanor seemed to change, he almost looked calm, almost. He pointed his finger at me, “You have twenty minutes with her.”
I scoffed and rolled my eyes as I grabbed Ara and pulled her out of the room, slamming the door after ourselves. My blood was boiling as I took a deep breath, trying to assess the situation and the relationship these two seemed to have. Ara was an anxious mess next to me as she fidgeted with her fingers and when I glanced at her, she gasped.
“I am so sorry, Princess, he shouldn’t have treated you like that nor spoken to you like that! San has issues controlling his temper, I can assure you that he didn’t mean any of that—” I placed a hand over Ara’s shoulder, she quickly averted her eyes.
“Do not apologize for him, Ara, and do not defend him when he behaves like that with you. He meant everything he said, no need to try and turn his words around.” I couldn’t help but feel aggravated as Ara chewed on her lower lip, suddenly bowing deeply.
“I apologize profusely, Princess, this is certainly not the way I hoped to see you for the first time—” She suddenly sniffed and my heart clenched, “I am so embarrassed right now, I can’t even put it into words.”
I sighed and grabbed Ara’s hand, making her stand up straight. I offered her a small soft smile, raising her chin up as her eyes were filled with tears, “Your actions are admirable as many would’ve cowered in front of him. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Let us walk then…”
Ara forced a smile onto her face as she stood next to me, and we took down the corridor. I had no idea where we could walk to, but perhaps going to Wooyoung’s room for starters was a good idea. If she didn’t leave her room often, I didn’t know if bringing her on the deck was too smart, maybe it would make San leash out on her again, and I didn’t want that to happen.
“My name is Y/N, Hana told me you would be singing after dinner tonight?” I spoke up when the air was filled with tension. Ara’s shoulders were suddenly pulled back, her demeanor changing scarily fast, as a very charming smile appeared on her lips.
“Yes, Princess Y/N, I shall be your entertainer tonight, my name is Im Ara.” She curtsied quickly and I chuckled, intrigued by her change of character.
“Have you entertained aristocrats or royalty before?” I asked curiously, her attitude way too professional. It certainly didn’t seem like this would be her first time speaking to important people.
“You would be the first one, Princess Y/N.” Ara bowed her head slightly and I looked at her surprised as we reached Wooyoung’s room. It was on the other end of the corridor from San’s room.
“What is an entertainer and a beautiful lady like you doing on a pirate ship?” I asked, genuinely curious, as I pushed Wooyoung’s door open, the room empty. He was always absent before dinner, I wondered where he disappeared to every day. Ara seemed to tense because of my question as I led her inside, suddenly embarrassed about the mess in the room. My things were thrown all around the room, dresses falling out of the briefcases messily, and my paintings were laying around on the floor. Ara took in the sight surprised, but when we made eye contact she quickly masked it with a pleasant smile and placed her hands behind her back.
“I was kidnapped by San.” The look on her face didn’t match her words, and my eyebrows furrowed as I stared at Ara, waiting for her to tell me the real reason. But when she just continued staring at me with an emotionless smile on her face, my stomach dropped.
“He—you what?” I asked shocked, and Ara’s smile fell as her face turned solemn.
“I was walking home from the Inn I worked at one night. My boss warned me that Ateez were in town, but I thought I was safe, that nothing would happen to me. That’s when San kidnapped me to sell me off to a wealthy man, but as you can see…I had the misfortune of staying with him—”
“This is horrible!” I gasped as I placed a hand over my mouth, watching her in horror as Ara seemed unaffected by whatever she was saying. Like she had accepted her fate.
“I begged him to let me stay with him, I wanted this,” She sighed, her shoulders slouching forward, “Trust me, Princess, staying here and living with him is a lot better than whatever fate was waiting for me once I was sold.”
I shuddered just at the thought of getting sold off by someone, “Does he do this often?”
Ara chuckled humorlessly, “It’s one of the many businesses he gets by, we were just arguing about it earlier before you came. I don’t understand why I bother to try to change his mind, it’s fruitless. But I—I can’t just stand by and watch as he ruins so many lives—not when I went through that. Not when I know the kind of thoughts which cross your mind during those moments, the dread which fills your body, the despair and uncertainty of what will happen to you. I have to stop him, Princess, I’m trying so hard, but he’s—too strong. He holds too much power, and he doesn’t care at all about the consequences of his actions.”
“He seems to care, since he gave in so quickly to you.” I muttered and Ara shook her head sadly.
“He only gave in because he got something out of it.” I gulped at Ara’s words, feeling the weight of them.
“Will you—stop? What you were doing before, whatever that is?” I inquired quietly, and suddenly there was a glint in Ara’s eyes, but she quickly masked it as she frowned, looking around with fake sadness etched onto her face.
“It’s best if I don’t bother a Princess with such topics, isn’t it?” I smiled, understanding the hidden message in her words, and hummed, looking around, eyes falling on my gowns. I looked back at Ara, noticing her gaze on the gowns too. I smiled and walked up to the briefcase, picking up a beige colored cotton gown, glittering golden like stripes decorating the long sleeves of it. Ara’s eyes widened as she stared at it longingly. I let my eyes run over her form before I looked down at the gown, mentally comparing her frame to my gown. She was slightly taller than me, but seemed to be around the same dimensions as myself, so, with a big smile I extended the gown towards her. Ara’s eyes widened as she looked at me, taking a step back taken aback.
“What—what are you doing, Princess?” She asked alarmed. I chuckled and approached her, pulling her hands from behind her back.
“The entertainer must look stellar when on stage, especially if they have a Princess in their audience.” Ara’s eyes widened as she grabbed the gown, hugging it to her chest, “I think it will fit you nicely, Ara.”
“Thank you, my Princess,” Ara bowed her head deeply, beaming with happiness, “I will forever be grateful and indebted to you.”
“Oh, well,” I chuckled and waved her words off, “you could start by simply calling me Y/N, and I suppose your debt would instantly disappear.”
“I could never do that, Princess!” She gasped and watched me as if I had two heads, “You deserve respect and to be properly addressed to.”
I chuckled and pretended to think, “Well in that case, keep the gown. It’ll show just how grateful you are.”
Ara’s eyes widened and she bowed again, making me bow back, alarming her as she quickly pushed me to stand up straight. I giggled and Ara huffed, as if I had been a disobedient child antagonizing her. She seemed lovely and very well mannered.
“I shall go and get ready, I look forward to seeing you later, Princess.” Ara curtsied and I nodded with a smile, waving at her as she left the room. As I went to close the door after her, I heard a high-pitched squeal echo down the corridor, making me chuckle to myself as I debated whether I should wear or not a representative dress of the Oh family to make Ara even happier.
I didn’t want to out dress Ara as I had given one of my most beautiful gowns to her, but I knew she would absolutely love seeing me in the Oh family’s colors, therefore I chose to wear a dress which has been passed down for generations. It was a cotton dress, dark blue with silver highlights and a belt decorated with royal opals. The dress was heavy and different from the gowns in our times, but it always had a special place in my heart. I couldn’t leave it at the castle, secretly hoping that I would have a reason to wear it at least once. And Ara offered me just that chance, making me feel excited as I pulled the front strands of my hair back and tied them into a braid. The dress was warm and I was thankful as I had been feeling rather cold since coming back downstairs, the fabric sitting snugly against my body. Once I was ready, I left the room and searched for the kitchen a little confused, each room’s door was closed on this corridor and no loud chatter came from the insides. Pirates wouldn’t be so quiet at dinner, right? And then, just as I was about to give up, I remembered the corner Taeri and Yunho rounded yesterday, and I headed towards it, finding a new set of stairs leading downstairs. I grabbed the skirt of the dress and raised it above my ankles as I carefully made my way downstairs, finding less doors on this hallway. And just as I took off towards the right, the louder chatter I expected echoed down the hallway, a cacophony of sounds as I couldn’t make out one comprehensible word. The door was closed, yet it wouldn’t make much difference if it wasn’t, in my opinion. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, pulling my shoulders back as I exhaled. I knew everyone would be staring at me, especially when I was wearing such a dress screaming of my origins and wealth. I had to remind myself that I was doing this for Ara, that thought would stop me from running back to Wooyoung’s room. The woman seemed so sad and tired, I felt like this was the least I could do to cheer her up. She held so much respect and admiration for me as we talked, my heart would break if I were to disappoint her. So, masking all emotions from my face, I placed my hands in front of me and straightened my back as I pushed the door open, pretending that I was walking inside the throne room during one of my mother’s extravagant balls. You don’t look at anyone, you don’t make any faces. You can’t hear and you can’t see. You focus on how you walk and hold your chin high, shoulders pulled back. Your one and only mission is to reach your chair next to your mother. These were the words I was taught in etiquette class, I never thought I would have to actually remind them to myself. Especially not on a ship infested with pirates.
As I stepped inside, the door slammed shut behind me, startling me, but I didn’t react. The chatter continued for another split second, until the vast kitchen went completely silent, all eyes on me. My blood froze over and suddenly I started sweating as all the pirates stared at me, some openly gawking. I didn’t know where to sit. I didn’t even know if I was welcomed here. The older pirates watched me as if I were a prize, something they could play with until they got bored of. It made my skin crawl as I stepped further inside, eyes sweeping over the long table. There weren’t many vacant places, and I noticed Wooyoung’s absence from it. Where was he if he wasn’t having dinner? Seonghwa had a pleasant smile on his lips as he nodded briefly in acknowledgment, however, the cat-like eyed man next to him didn’t look too pleased as he took in my attire. He was the Captain. Hana was nestled close into Yeosang’s side as she sat in between him and Taeri, who’s lips were pulled into a huge smile as she stared at my dress. Yunho was grinning as he nudged the man sitting next to himself, who’s mouth had fallen open at the sight of me, and I could see the rice he still hadn’t chewed, making me scrunch up my nose in disgust. He quickly closed his mouth and looked away embarrassed, pressing a ring clad hand against his face in an attempt to hide himself from my eyes. I almost chuckled as Yunho started whispering something to him, making the man’s eyebrows furrow as he elbowed him. I noticed San wasn’t here, nor was Ara. Would she not sing tonight? Did I mess up by interfering with their fight and by giving her the gown? My heart beat picked up as anxiety coursed through my veins; perhaps coming here was a mistake. And then, suddenly, I heard dishes clanking loudly, and suddenly, Wooyoung’s head popped into view as he gaped at me blatantly. He threw his hands out and gesticulated towards my body, face scrunched up in shock and mild disgust.
“What are you wearing?!” He asked alarmed, eyes taking in the ancient piece of clothing, “What if food gets on it?! That’s anci—”
My eyebrows furrowed as Wooyoung sharply sucked in a breath, cutting himself off. He seemed dumbfounded by his own reaction as he gulped loudly, adjusting his shirt all of a sudden as he averted his eyes. I narrowed my eyes at him and stepped closer, his words replaying in my mind. Did he just recognize my dress? Of course, it wasn’t hard to recognize when it screamed of royalty status, but those who weren’t in close contact with the royal families wouldn’t know the real meaning of it, or the ancestry of it. Royalty were taught about each other’s emblems and relics, family heirlooms, and anything which was representative of their family’s name. Unless Wooyoung was seriously invested with royal families stories, he had no reason knowing about the origins of my dress. He couldn’t have so easily recognized it as if it was burned into his memory. Suddenly, someone from the table cleared their throat and spoke up.
“Wooyoung, your food will get cold, come sit and eat,” It was Seonghwa, voice pleasant as he gestured towards the empty seat from across him, “You too, Princess.”
“Thank you, Seonghwa.” I bowed my head and he smiled pleasantly as he glanced around the table, throwing a glare at the pirates who haven’t stop staring, making them quickly avert their eyes. The Captain just sighed loudly and shook his head, grabbing his cup and drinking from it. He almost looked fed up. I looked at Wooyoung, whose face was expressionless as he turned around and walked to his spot, looking back at me lazily.
“Wouldn’t a princess want to sit down while eating?” He raised one eyebrow, making me squint at him, “I bet your fragile legs wouldn’t last for long if you were to stand on your two feet the whole night.”
I huffed as a few pirates snickered, but didn’t let my irritation show as I walked up to Wooyoung, pushing him over to make space for myself. He gasped as he almost fell into the pirate who Yunho had teased earlier. Wooyoung whipped his head around and glared at me flabbergasted. I grinned as I graciously sat down where Wooyoung was supposed to sit, nodding at the pirate next to me who was taken aback by my presence. The man quickly scrambled to pour some wine into my own cup and I chuckled as I quietly thanked him. Wooyoung scoffed loudly and wriggled himself in between myself and the taller pirate next to Yunho, glaring at my profile as I carefully took a sip of the wine, expecting it to taste awful, but it didn’t. It was actually very tasty and almost sweet. I haven’t had wine like this before.
“Of course,” Wooyoung grumbled as he pulled his plate towards himself and away from me, “you came here to show off, didn’t you? Do you enjoy the attention everyone is suddenly giving you? Of course you are, you are a spoiled princess after all.”
I rolled my eyes and turned to look at Wooyoung with a fake smile on my lips, “I love how you answer your own questions, Wooyoung, it’s like you’re talking to yourself.”
The man on Wooyoung’s left suddenly snickered, hiding his face when Wooyoung’s head snapped towards him to glare at him. I chuckled and thanked Yeosang as he handed me a clean plate for dinner. I looked around the table, finding a lot more food than I was expecting. Perhaps the cook made a special dinner since Ara would sing for us tonight. I placed a bit of chicken meat on my plate and a few vegetables which looked very tasty, thanking Hana when she eagerly pushed some rice onto my plate. She looked away shyly when I complimented her lovely outfit. She wore a white dress with floral imprints on it, the orange shawl I have gifted her earlier wrapped around her shoulders tightly. She seemed to be leaning into Yeosang’s side completely, and as the man was finished with his dinner and sipping on his wine, I noticed the protective arm he had around her hips. Hana seemed happy as she ate her dinner, paying attention to the conversation Yeosang was having with the Captain. I quietly enjoyed my dinner, completely impressed by the cook’s talent as rich flavors exploded in my mouth. Everything was so tasty. It seemed even better than the previous days Wooyoung had brought me food. I took a sip of my wine to wash down the meat, and hummed contently. Wooyoung was quiet for once as he carefully ate his dinner, and I couldn’t help but stare at him. He was holding the silverware correctly as he carefully cut up his meat into equal pieces, and he never rushed as he ate, never putting too much food into his mouth. He chewed slowly and would pat his mouth from time to time with a handkerchief, only grabbing for his cup of wine when he was finished with his food. My eyes narrowed as my thoughts started wandering, thinking of how much etiquette Wooyoung seemed to be aware of. I even dared to think that he was acting like a prince would at the dinner table with his family. When Wooyoung’s eyes fell on me, I quickly averted my eyes and took another gulp of my wine, embarrassed that he caught me staring.
“I didn’t choke despite you wishing for me to do so.” Wooyoung mocked, yet I never wished for that to happen to him, however, I didn’t tell him that.
“Pity,” I muttered over the cup before clearing my throat, “I wonder who the cook is. I’ve been intending to tell them how tasty the food is. You pirates are lucky to have him, otherwise you’d be long dead without him. Especially you, Wooyoung. I bet you’d be the first one to starve to death—”
I couldn’t even finish my sentence before the man next to Wooyoung moaned loudly, barely gulping the food down in his stuffed mouth, “Mate—Wooyoung, you really outdid yourself tonight. I haven’t eaten anything this good like—ever!”
“Thank you, Mingi.” Wooyoung smirked smugly as his eyes fell on me, one eyebrow raised. My mouth fell open, I couldn’t help myself even if it wasn’t princess like. Wooyoung was the cook? And I just accidentally complimented him while also insulting him? I hated how quickly my face flamed up, but I acted as if I didn’t feel it, staring Wooyoung down as he looked at me challengingly.
“And you were saying, princess…” He clicked his tongue loudly and I huffed as I looked away, licking my lips in frustration. I would certainly never hear the end of this, “I’m glad you enjoyed your dinner, the cook, myself, is rather flattered at the moment.”
I would’ve rolled my eyes if it wasn’t for Wooyoung’s sudden proximity. His strong cologne invaded my nostrils as I felt his breath hit my ear, his warmth engulfing my slightly tingling body. I haven’t drank alcohol in long, and it was hot inside the kitchen, it was slightly getting to my head. But I gulped and sat up straighter, turning to glare at Wooyoung. However, I found myself speechless as I was face to face with him, his skin flawless from so close. My eyes fell onto the mole underneath his left eye and I gulped, looking back up into his eyes. Wooyoung watched me curiously, and I felt his fingers sneaking towards my wrist, feeling the fabric of my dress. I looked down the same time he did, my heart racing in my chest. Why was I reacting in this way?
“Why would you wear this to dinner?” He asked in a whisper, looking back up into my eyes. I gulped as I stared into his eyes, suddenly mesmerized by the color of them. Wooyoung had really pretty eyes.
“I promised Ara I would come watch her perform,” I whispered, feeling like a cocoon fell over the two of us as the pirates loud chatter downed out our quiet voices, “I figured wearing something specific for my family would make her even happier. She seemed rather taken by me.”
“Her life purpose was to sing for the royal families and aristocrats,” Wooyoung’s lips pulled into a small smile, I felt his finger graze against my skin, where my bruises were already fading, “She’ll appreciate your gesture, Y/N.”
The breath caught in my throat. Wooyoung has never called me by my name before. As I fought the smile off my face, hating how badly I was blushing, Wooyoung seemed to realize his slip up and he quickly cleared his throat, withdrawing, and looking away. I gulped and reached for my cup of wine quickly, catching Taeri and Yunho’s knowing glances, my body shuddering at whatever those two were trying to imply by the simple look on their faces. Wooyoung was insufferable, there was no way I was starting to take a liking to him. Before I could dwell more on my mixed feelings for Wooyoung, the kitchen door opened, and Ara walked inside. The gown fit her perfectly, accentuating her curves and complementing her skin. Flowers were placed in her short hair and there was a slight red blush to her cheeks, unnatural. Her lips were redder than before and she threw a beaming smile our way. Nobody would be able to tell how she truly felt, her eyes were empty of any emotion and her face was a mask of calmness. My lips instantly pulled up into a huge smile and as Ara’s eyes fell on me, they widened, and she placed her hands over her heart. The gown had a sweetheart neckline, a simple pearl necklace sat around her neck snugly.
“Good evening, lovely ladies and gentlemen—” Ara extended her hand, pointed towards me, “my Princess, Oh Y/N, from the Sun Rise Kingdom.”
She curtsied and I bowed my head, smiling at Ara’s adorableness. She would’ve been so beloved if she would’ve been able to follow her dreams. My mother would’ve certainly loved her for her adequate manners and deep respect.
“Tonight, I, Im Ara, will be your entertainer.” She bowed slightly and the pirates started clapping furiously, everyone seemingly liking the lovely girl. Ara waited patiently for the room to quiet down, I couldn’t help but join in on the clapping, “After my opening act you are all welcomed to requests songs and join me on the dance floor.”
The pirates roared again and I chuckled, looking around impressed. I would’ve never thought I would witness such things one day.
As the night progressed, the atmosphere seemed to get livelier and livelier as the drunk pirates enjoyed themselves. If anyone would’ve told me a week ago, that I would be sitting on a ship full of dangerous pirates, who gather around in the kitchen and sing their hearts out as they drink their sorrows away, I would’ve probably laughed in their face. Ara was like a bright star in the late hours of the night, guiding you through the darkness. She laughed and twirled around, her beautiful voice carrying through the vast room, allowing the pirates to pull her into their arms as they danced around. She was glowing, and when I decided to join the dancing circle, her face lit up even more and her voice rose a few octaves, her song turning even livelier as she sung about a hidden treasure, about a lost woman finding herself while on the hunt for it, and about a rather dumb man who fell head over heels for her, worshipping her as if she were the last woman in the four seas and four kingdoms. The pirates seemed to love this little tale as they joined Ara, their manly voices booming over hers, making me laugh as I was suddenly pulled into a hard chest. My eyes widened when I realized it was the Captain, but the displeased look was gone from his face and his eyes weren’t as sharp as before, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol. I chuckled as he made a comment about my dress, before twirling me around until my head was spinning and I had to excuse myself, stumbling into the wall near the exit. As I caught my breath, I noticed movement from the corner of my eyes, head still spinning, and I turned to see who was standing in the doorway. It was rather surprising as San and I made eye contact, his eyes narrowed as he threw me a warning glare, probably telling me to shut up. I didn’t say anything as his eyes fell back onto Ara, who was in the arms of Mingi, giggling and helping him stand up straight as he has had too much wine. If it weren’t for San’s clenched fists, I wouldn’t have been able to tell that he was bothered by that simple gesture. His face remained emotionless until he sucked in a harsh breath and stormed off, body rigid. Before I could dwell more on the man’s actions, Taeri was gripping my hands and asking me to join her in a dance as the pirates took over with a sailor’s song, Ara just laughing as she continued struggling to dance with Mingi. However, I had to refuse Taeri as my legs were aching, not having danced this much before. The stuffiness of the room was also getting to me as it was making my head spin more, the hotness of the room bringing a flush to my cheeks. When I thought nobody was watching, I made sure to look around, I slipped outside the kitchen and took a deep breath as cool air instantly hit my face. I raised the skirt of the dress above my ankles and carefully padded down the corridor, headed for the stairs. I sighed as my feet felt heavy as I climbed them, yearning for some fresh air. Instead of going to Wooyoung’s room, I went up on deck, raveling in the tranquility around me. The breeze was slow and small, the cool air felt refreshing against my flushed skin. I walked towards the railing and gripped it, staring up at the clear sky. The moon was beautifully reflected in the seawater, ripples disturbing the image as a wave would crash occasionally. I have missed this. Gazing up at the stars as the world was quiet around me.
The soles of my feet felt sore and I stepped out of the high heels I have found nestled underneath my dresses in one of the briefcases. Wooyoung, surprisingly, has packed a lot of my things. Things which I wouldn’t have even considered bringing with myself if I were to come willingly. My thoughts seemed to fixate on Wooyoung as the image of his eyes and that one mole underneath it plagued my mind suddenly, making me sigh as I allowed my head to fall back. My eyes fell on the Evening Star, and I couldn’t help but compare it to Ara. It was bright, beautiful, and so far away. Ara seemed to be a sweet person, but whatever was happening to her because of San was dimming her light. It made me feel helpless that I couldn’t help her in any way, it made my blood boil. How could someone be as horrible as San? Did he not have a mother? A sister? Did he have no respect for women? My throat closed in on me as I forced my thoughts to stop spiraling more about the mistreatment Ara must go through because of that horrible man, and instead, I found myself feeling grateful that the only thing Wooyoung seemed to be doing to me was to annoy me. He fed me since the beginning and even tried to hold a civil conversation at times; there was an attempt at trying to get to know me better. Besides the fact that he was a pirate, who quite frequently dodged his duties, and cooked for his crew, I didn’t know much about him. I wondered where he was from and why he was living this life. He stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the crew, something about the way he held himself and spoke set him apart from the other men. Seonghwa was an elegant man, but his façade would slip frequently, and you could see that he was simply just a man, raised by probably someone very savage. The Captain couldn’t even be compared to Wooyoung, his exterior and behavior were rough. The only person who came close to Wooyoung was Mingi, who’s steps were light and posture always straight, as if it had been grilled into his mind that was the adequate way to carry himself. And yet, Wooyoung dressed in expensive clothes, smelled expensive, and more often than not acted like someone who was raised in posh conditions. His skin was flawless and hands soft, despite handling a sword, no bruises decorated his palms. He spoke freely yet was careful with his words, and I have never heard him cursing. His gaze was intense when he watched you, attentive and analytic, yet never intrusive. Even tonight, I could feel his gaze on me almost at all times. I supposed he was keeping an eye on me since the older pirates were there with us and would look at me like I was a piece of meat. Perhaps Wooyoung’s warning hasn’t been harsh enough.
The wood cracked behind me and I flinched, head whipping around quickly, praying that it wasn’t any of those awful pirates. I probably wasn’t powerful enough to overpower them and with the fiesta happening downstairs, nobody would hear my pleas for help. And to my fortune, it wasn’t a scary pirate. It was just Wooyoung. Which made my heart beat fast all of a sudden, the cool air doing nothing against the flush of my cheeks. He came closer, eyes watching me carefully before a small smile appeared on his lips. I didn’t say anything, but I returned the smile, a bit reluctantly, as he came to a stop next to me. He left little distance between our bodies as he leaned against the railing, looking off in the distance. His gaze seemed unfocused as he took a deep breath, closing his eyes lightly. The soft breeze brushed against his dark hair, and I noticed he let it sit freely for once against his face, framing it. It made his features seem sharper, and I gulped as I looked away, blaming the alcohol for all the things I was noticing about him. We remained silent and the silence was comfortable around us, pleasant even. Wooyoung’s hand rested close to mine against the railing, if I were to extend my pinky finger, it would poke his. My eyebrows furrowed at the thought and I cleared my throat just as Wooyoung turned his head to look at me. I couldn’t help but feel embarrassed for some reason, so I continued gazing out towards the dark sea.
“Are you feeling alright, Princess?” Wooyoung asked quietly, as if to not disturb our serene surroundings. I looked at him slightly surprised and nodded wordlessly, chewing on my lower lip.
“It felt too packed inside the kitchen, I needed some fresh air.” I explained and Wooyoung hummed, his eyes never leaving mine. I couldn’t help but gaze back into his, taken by the glimmer in them. His features were soft, for the first time, he didn’t look like he’d say anything malicious.
“The dress Ara is wearing tonight…you have that to her, didn’t you?” Wooyoung asked quietly and I nodded with a small smile, “And the orange shawl on Hana, is that yours too?”
“Yes, I gifted them to the girls.” I said nonchalantly, shrugging my shoulders, “I also gave Hana my crayons. Once I’m back in my kingdom I’ll be able to purchase tons of them—unless my mother bans me from drawing or painting ever again, of course.”
My voice turned a bit sour and I averted my eyes when Wooyoung looked at me with confusion, “Did you know Hana loves to draw?”
I knew he wanted to ask about my mother, but I didn’t allow him as I quickly changed the subject. Wooyoung seemed to be thinking for a second before he quickly shook his head no. I smiled and stared at the moon’s reflection in the sea, “All of the ladies living on the ship seem to be lovely. However, Ara—you should take more care of her. Forbid San from going close to her.”
“I’m afraid we can’t do that, princess,” Wooyoung’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked away when my heated gaze fell on him, “We don’t meddle with each other’s businesses. Whatever San and Ara do is between the two of them—”
“What if one day you all wake up to find Ara dead?” My voice hardened and Wooyoung’s jaw clenched.
“Then she’ll have a funeral and people who’d mourn her.” I scoffed at Wooyoung’s harsh words, taken aback. His eyebrows were furrowed as he turned to look at me, face pulled into an irritated grimace, “We’re on the sea, princess. You’re surrounded by pirates. You’re on Ateez’ ship, we’re known to be merciless and dangerous. The laws from your kingdom don’t apply the same way here on the sea, on this ship.”
“You should treat people more decently, at least.” I snapped and Wooyoung rolled his eyes, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
“Tell me, princess, were you not treated decently while traveling with us?” I bit my tongue, unable to deny his question. I was treated well, a lot better than I expected, but what about all the other people who weren’t? Who died by their swords? Who were tortured and taken away from their familiar lives? What about them?
“This isn’t about me.” I whispered, gulping when Wooyoung shook his head, seemingly annoyed.
“Then who is it about?” He pressed; voice laced with annoyance.
“Everyone else who suffered a fate worse than mine.”
“Quit acting like a kind soul who’s worried for everyone around them.” Wooyoung’s voice hardened and my eyes widened at his next words, “You abandoned your people. You ran away from home, because anything is allowed for a princess. Because you got bored one day of the comfortable life you were living and ran away, proving my point that you’re a spoiled brat. You think anyone can just do that? Leave everything behind and build a new life without consequences? Live comfortably despite having nothing?”
My blood boiled at the hear of his words and my jaw clenched as I took a step closer to him, shoulders squared back as I glared at Wooyoung, “You sure know how to judge and hold a speech about someone who you don’t even know, pirate. I couldn’t care less about what you think of me, but when you make such outrageous claims about me I won’t remain quiet. Not when—someone who’s hiding his true identity preaches to me about what’s right and wrong. I know you’re not a pirate Wooyoung.”
Wooyoung’s lips parted in surprise and his eyebrows furrowed as he looked down at me, just a few inches between the two of us. My heart stuttered in my chest, but I paid it no mind as my cheeks flared from anger, glare hardening the longer Wooyoung remained silent. It only further proved my theory. He wasn’t a pirate. I had caught onto his poor façade.
“You’re right,” He cleared his throat, lips pulling into a tight smile, “I am not a pirate.”
“Then who are you?” I quickly questioned, anticipating his answer. My skin suddenly tingled for I was right. I saw through his little act and now he was about to confess his true identity to me. I shouldn’t have felt so victorious over such a small thing, but I couldn’t help myself as my glare disappeared and my eyebrows raised in urgency the more Wooyoung stalled with his answer.
“Jung Wooyoung,” He breathed out, looking uncomfortable as the next words left his mouth, “Crown prince of the South Kingdom. I ran away when I was thirteen on a whim, and joined Hongjoong’s crew. I never wanted to rule, my parents forced me into taking a decision. Be the crown prince or be forever locked away in a castle far from any humans. I craved a life full of adventure and freedom, far from my controlling and ruthless parents.”
My eyebrows were furrowed as I listened to Wooyoung’s story, heartbeat picking up again as I looked at him confused. He was Jung Wooyoung? The next in line of the South Kingdom? He was…he was the thirteen years old Wooyoung I have met all those years ago? A pang, which felt like a dagger to my heart, traveled through my body as I gasped and took a step back, staring Wooyoung down. My eyes ran over him, and suddenly all the repressed memories of the little boy came rushing back. The pretty eyes, the mole underneath his left eye. His loud laughter, which was ear piercing and irritating. His put together attire despite him constantly running and hiding in impossible places. His mischievous nature and his snarky comments. The whispered promise before we parted ways of us conquering the world together, of fighting our hardships together, of a love which would be eternal. And then…not even a week later, the news of the little prince going missing. The many letters his parents sent apologizing and promising to find him, promising to wed us as soon as he’d be found. Jung Wooyoung, the missing little prince, presumed to be dead, yet never quite forgotten.
My lips quivered at the discovery and I shook my head as Wooyoung watched me with a confused expression, reaching out, but I slapped his hand away, “No. You—you’re here preaching to me about what’s right and wrong—about running away when you did the same thing! When you abandoned your duties, when you—when you left a little girl worrying and waiting for your return for her whole life! You made her life miserable with your departure, and you never even considered the repercussions of your actions! You don’t get to talk to me like that, Wooyoung, leave me alone. I don’t need you bringing me meals anymore, I know where the kitchen is. I don’t want to see you ever again.”
I stormed off with an aching heart, tears streaming down my face. My betrothed had been right by my side all this time, almost making me second guess everything I had done in the past three years.
Wooyoung respected my request, for the past two days he hasn’t come near me. I haven’t seen him during breakfast, lunch, nor dinner. I didn’t know where he went when I was in the kitchen, and I wasn’t curious. I was beyond hurt and mad at him. I couldn’t believe the prince I was supposed to marry was the one who’d return me to my mother, make me a prisoner of a life I didn’t want anymore, meanwhile he would return to the life of a pirate where he had no care in the world, no commitments, and no troubles. The thought didn’t sit right with me, it made my blood boil. I couldn’t let that happen; I couldn’t allow Wooyoung slip through my fingers unpunished. But if I wasn’t smart about it, then the both of us would be doomed for a lifetime. Therefore, the plan I had been twisting and turning in my mind, found its perfect side character. Jung Wooyoung, the man who would pretend to be in love with me, get married to me, and then…run away with me. If I were to follow my heart, I would leave him behind, but he could easily find out about my whereabouts and then all my efforts would be in vain. I couldn’t let that happen. I didn’t have much time, the sun was close to setting, anchor already settled as we have reached the coasts of the Sun Rise Kingdom. I was nervous as I paced up and down the hallway in front of Wooyoung’s room. I left the door open when I left, that’s how I knew he was inside. There was no better time than right now to rope Wooyoung up into my plan. There was no time left. I had to act now. So, I pushed the door open and closed it behind me quickly, turning to march up to Wooyoung all confident, back straight and chin held high. But the sight in front of me halted me in my steps, making Wooyoung cry out as his wide eyes fell on me. The pants he wore hung low on his waist, undone, and a black tank top was clutched in his right hand. My strong façade broke as my eyes traveled down his bare torso, skin tan and smooth, muscles hard and worked. His stomach wasn’t lacking either as a six-pack stared back at me. Staring so blatantly was very much so not princess like, but it wasn’t often a man stood half naked in front of me. Let alone a handsome man like Wooyoung.
“Hey!” Wooyoung yelped, suddenly snapping out of his initial shock as he clumsily covered himself with his hands, “Stop staring at me! Just because I’m a man doesn’t mean I don’t deserve privacy! This—this is outrageous and unacceptable! Get out, princess—”
“Stop fussing, and shut up.” I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms in front of my chest, “You wouldn’t be exposed anymore if you used your brain and put on that tank top you’re holding.”
Wooyoung opened his mouth to fire something back, but realized I was right, and he quickly whirled around as he dressed himself, doing the lace of his pants as I rolled my eyes at his childishness, “What do you want? I thought you said you didn’t want to see me ever again.”
“I changed my mind,” I snapped, watching as Wooyoung faced me again, his cheeks tinted pink from embarrassment, “You’re not allowed to say no to what I’m about to tell you. And you need to keep your mouth shut about it too, can you do that for me, Prince Jung Wooyoung?”
“Don’t call me that, I haven’t been a prince for—” Wooyoung’s eyebrows suddenly furrowed and he looked appalled, “You can’t command me around, Princess Oh Y/N, I won’t listen to you or do whatever you want me to do.”
“We’ll see about that later,” I muttered with a smirk as I walked closer to Wooyoung, raising an eyebrow at him, “What’s my name?”
Wooyoung looked at me like I grew two heads all of a sudden, “Are you dumb or something—”
“Say my name.” I snapped, glaring at him when he didn’t want to do what I told him to. Wooyoung scoffed and placed his hands on his hips, looking irritated.
“Princess Oh Y/N.” He finally said, making it sound like it was forced out of him, it might as well been.
“And you’re Prince Jung Wooyoung.” I said firmly, making Wooyoung look at me confused. Uncomfortable silence fell around us as I kept staring at him, hoping that he’d realize by himself, but apparently Wooyoung was too daft for that, “Didn’t you have a betrothed, prince? From the Sun Rise Kingdom?”
“Yeah, I did,” Wooyoung rolled his eyes, “But it was ages ago, I don’t even remember what she looked like, except for her name which stuck with me, because she loved gazing at the stars at night and her name meant sky. Princess Oh—”
A wide grin spread onto my lips as Wooyoung’s eyes widened, mouth dropping open. He shakily raised a finger and pointed it at me, making me chuckle amused, “That’s right, Wooyoung. It’s me, I’m that girl. I’m your betrothed. I don’t understand how you didn’t figure it out straight away, you’re quite daft, have you been told that before?”
“I am not, I—” Wooyoung seemed speechless as he exclaimed, huffing loudly, “I just…didn’t make the connection because I made sure to forget everything about my life before I became a pirate.”
I licked my lips, heart clenching weirdly at the knowledge of Wooyoung purposefully wanting to forget about me, “Well now you know. And you’re going to help me out. I don’t want to rule either, not when I know my mother’s men will make my life a living hell. All I want to do is paint and live by the sea, gaze up at the stars at night, and perhaps teach etiquette to little children. And for that to happen, I need your help, Wooyoung.”
The prince’s eyebrows furrowed and he looked very repulsed by the idea of mingling into the life of a royal, but as he was about to refuse me, he looked me in the eyes and paused. I was grinning at him, skin tingling just at the mere thought of my plan working out, of having Wooyoung by my side in the process. Something in his demeanor changed as a light glimmer appeared in his eyes, the mischievous boy I remembered suddenly stood right in front of me.
“What’s the plan, Princess?”
For a second all I could hear was the loud pounding of my heart as my mother’s scrutinizing gaze rooted me to my spot. Nothing really changed around here. The Throne Room was still decorated the same, still as cold as it had always been. If it weren’t for the presence next to me, for the warm hand gripping my hand back tightly, I probably would’ve fainted on the spot from my nerves. I was sweating, I was feeling hot and cold at the same time, and my head was thumping wilder than my heart. This was the day everything would change. I heard Wooyoung suck in a quiet breath next to me as my mother and her most precious advisor took off, headed towards us. Wooyoung and I stood in the middle of the Throne Room, their trek strenuous and nerve-wrecking as they took careful and slow steps towards us, almost as if they couldn’t believe the Princess was back. I couldn’t imagine how Wooyoung felt after so many years of evading his Kingdom and origins to be standing in a Throne Room, about to utter some crazy words. I felt like I couldn’t breathe for a second as my mother stopped a few steps away, her advisor standing behind her, glaring harshly at me and at my joined hand with Wooyoung. His palm was sweaty, but our intertwined hands would never allow the other’s hand to slip away.
“Child,” My mother’s voice was hard as it boomed around us, and I gulped drily, “you have returned, I see.”
Wooyoung and I acted at the same time, my body folding in two as I bowed in front of my mother, in front of the Queen. Wooyoung got down on one knee, bowing his head deeply, showing her the utmost respect. After a few seconds of not moving, I dared raise my head and peek at my mother. She watched us shocked and as she cleared her throat she spoke, “Stand up, you fools.”
Ah, yes, her affection never ceased to impress me. I tried to keep off the sour grimace from my face as I stood up straight, shoulders pulled back, and Wooyoung got back to his feet, averting eye contact as he stared at the red carpet we stood on.
“Princess Y/N, how pleasant your presence is,” The advisor spoke up, making my jaw clench, “Almost as if you haven’t been gone for three years. Did you enjoy yourself?”
The insult was on the tip of my tongue, but Wooyoung’s slight tug on my hand stopped me from saying anything to the blatant mocking of the insufferable man. My mother hissed in his direction and raised her hand, that was a first. She adored listening to that monkey of hers.
“I want to hear what this is, right now.” She gestured to Wooyoung and I, glare falling on our joined hands. I allowed a small smile to slip onto my lips, everything carefully planned out last night. The spotlight was on Wooyoung now, he better be a good actor.
“Your Majesty, Queen Oh,” He bowed his head again, bringing his free hand up to his heart, “My name is Jung Wooyoung, the South Kingdom’s crown prince.”
He paused for dramatic effect and I almost rolled my eyes, his words made the advisor gasp as my mother’s eyebrows furrowed, “I know my return is sudden and unexpected, but after the pirates kidnapped me I was lost. I was merely a child, I couldn’t tell wrong from right, I thought their lifestyle was something to envy. That is until I realized my mistake and ran away from them, going into hiding out of fear that they would find me and kill me for good this time as I had stolen gold from them to fend for myself. I lived in a humble town for years, alone and scared most of the time, until…until your daughter, Your Majesty, showed up and reminded me the joys of life and—love. Until she showed me what it felt like to feel loved, to be in love. I am in love with Princess Y/N, Your Majesty.”
My heart fluttered at Wooyoung’s words and I could only hope it had a similar effect on my mother and her advisor, “I—I regret running away, mama, but if I didn’t do it—I would’ve never found the Prince, mama. I love him and I want to marry him. We’ve been sheltering our love for the past three years, scared of returning because we didn’t know what was awaiting for us. We were scared to face your wrath and his parents wrath, scared that you would separate us despite us being betrothed at an early age. I realized how much my people mean to me; and Prince Wooyoung and I want to rule together, we want to join the Kingdoms and become the next King and Queen under your blessings, mama.”
I watched my mother’s strong façade waver for a second as her eyes filled with tears, a reaction I would’ve never expected from her. She didn’t even cry at her own husband’s funeral. She glanced behind her, at her advisor, and I quickly nudged Wooyoung as they weren’t paying attention to us.
“Your Majesty, we—” He looked down sheepishly, cheeks flushed, making me wonder how he made himself blush so easily, “We would like to get married this week, if possible and allowed. I do not wish to separate from the Princess, therefore may I ask for a letter to be sent to my parents?”
“Oh, what a shocking change of events!” My mother exclaimed, pressing a hand over her mouth, the advisor not looking happy at all, “I thought I lost you, my child, forever, and here you are! Doing the right thing! I am so proud of you!”
Of course, she was only proud of me because I was doing what she wanted, not what made me happy. I almost scoffed, but Wooyoung’s quiet sigh grounded me, making me focus on the task at hand.
“I give my blessings for the weeding to happen this week, but your parents also have a say in it, Prince Wooyoung, they haven’t seen you in too long, they might not be as lenient as myself.” My mother’s eyebrows were furrowed as she placed her hands in front of her. Of course, she was only lenient because I came back with my betrothed wanting to get married and take over the throne. Pathetic.
“I am sure Your Majesty will be able to work things out with them, they have always had a spot for you, my Queen.” Wooyoung, always the sweet talker and charmer, smiled at my mother with a dashing smile on his face, my eyes staying on his face for a second too long. He glanced at me from the corner of his eyes and I quickly averted my gaze, suddenly turning red as a tomato. Why was I blushing so hard?
“Very well, Hugo, go prepare a parchment and my pen, this is an urgent matter!” My mother clapped her hands together, and I couldn’t help but allow a victorious smile stretch onto my lips as Wooyoung squeezed my hand once, biting his lower lip to stop himself from smiling too hard.
“Yes, my Queen.” The advisor muttered with distaste and after a nasty look sent our way, he stormed off. My mother was smiling expectantly at us and I gulped, realizing that we weren’t exactly displaying any joy at the outcome of the events. So, I quickly took action as I turned towards Wooyoung, letting go of his hand and cupping his cheeks as he faced me instinctively.
“Oh, Wooyoung!” I let out a dreamy sigh, faking that I was on the verge of crying, “The world will finally know about love. I’ll be finally your wife—”
“And my Queen.” Wooyoung cut me off, mesmerizing eyes boring into mine. My breath caught in my throat as I gulped nervously.
“And you shall be my King.” For a second, nothing happened, but then Wooyoung’s eyes fell onto my lips and my heart started beating fast again, breath faltering as he leaned in closer. I knew we had to do this because my mother was watching, waiting for us to slip up despite her acts of kindness. So, I closed my eyes when Wooyoung’s lips brushed against mine barely, my whole body flaming as I pushed my head forward, connecting our lips firmly. My mind blanked for a moment and I didn’t dare move, as I felt Wooyoung’s hands on my waist, pulling me closer. My hands on his cheeks tightened and I almost gasped as he suddenly moved his lips, capturing my lower lip in between his as I returned his kiss. His lips were soft and warm, they fit perfectly against mine as we found a rhythm comfortable for the both of us, the feeling of kissing foreign. My skin tingled as the kisses were slow, until I forgot about the presence of my mother and I found myself pressing into Wooyoung’s body, breathing in his strong cologne as his lips picked up their pace, more urgent than before, and my head was suddenly spinning. My fingers dug into his cheeks painfully as Wooyoung’s grip tightened on me as well, lungs screaming for air, yet I couldn’t pull away just yet. Something felt addictive about his lips, about his kisses, about his warmth and his cologne. Wooyoung was the first to break the kiss, much to my dismay, and as I gasped in a deep breath of air, a short but deep kiss was pressed against my lips once again, our eyes slowly opening at the same time. I was breathing hard as we stared into each other’s eyes, Wooyoung’s chest rising and falling rapidly, his hot breath hitting my face in quick puffs. I chuckled, biting my lower lip at the absurdity of the situation. Wooyoung’s eyes quickly looked to the side, but my mother was gone. It was just the two of us. I don’t know when she walked away and I didn’t care. As Wooyoung looked back at me again, my eyes fell on the mole underneath his eye and I had the sudden urge to press a kiss against it, but I willed myself not to. I shouldn’t give in to some absurd urges so early on. His lips seemed slightly plumper and redder than before; I supposed mine looked similar.
“I have to admit you might be a genius, Princess.” Wooyoung whispered and I couldn’t help but grin at him.
“And you might just be the partner in crime I needed, my Prince.” Wooyoung’s lip twitched up into a handsome smirk and I stepped back embarrassed, our hands finding each other again as our fingers intertwined.
My fate might’ve turned out to be even better than I could’ve ever dreamed of. With a Prince like Wooyoung by my side, I knew success would follow. And perhaps a lifetime of adventure, danger, and mischief. And maybe…an abiding love as well.
Next part (divider)
#bvidzsoo#cromernet#ateez series#ateez fluff#wooyoung x reader#wooyoung fluff#jung wooyoung#wooyoung ateez#wooyoung angst#wooyoung smut#ateez angst#ateez smut#wooyoung oneshot#ateez x reader#kim hongjoong#park seonghwa#jeong yunho#kang yeosang#choi san#song mingi#choi jongho#ateez pirate au#ateez fanfic#ateez imagines#ateez scenarios
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Her Protector <3
A/N: I said I was inspired.. I couldn't help itttt.. Enjoy this little mess <3
Characters: Castiel, Reader Y/N, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester
Paring: Castiel X Reader
Warnings: Fluff, PDA, teasing, arguing, obliviousness, SPN hunting, mentions of spirits, mentions of murders, injuries, brief description of injuries, (Let me know if I missed something!)
Summary: After joining the Winchester brothers full time on their hunting journey, you are quickly introduced to Castiel. Now, he won't leave you alone. Everyone notices it, and now you have to figure out how to bring it up.
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She'd only been on the road with the Winchesters for a few months now. Living in the bunker was nice, but she never truly got comfortable. She always felt like it was too good, too nice, too... too normal. Well, as normal as a hunter could get.
Currently, they were in a diner eating breakfast. They had been brought to California because of a spirit who killed young women, angry for a reason they didn't know yet. She didn't know why, but she was determined to figure out the motive.
Pulling her away from her mind, Dean snatched the book she was reading out of her hand. "Seriously, we're eating. Put the book down." Dean sassed. Y/N rolled her eyes, "Since when did you give a damn about manors?" She retorted. He chuckled and shook his head.
Sam was about to speak when a man appeared in the seat in front of Y/N. She nearly spit out the mouth full of Sprite she just sipped, covering her mouth with her hand. She swallowed and turned to look at the brothers. Dean just chuckled and wrapped an arm around the man, "Y/N, meet Castiel, Castiel meet Y/N."
Castiel sticks his hand out to shake hers, and she awkwardly accepts. "Nice to meet you." Her voice was raised at the end, almost as if it was a question. Castiel nodded eagerly and pulled his hand away.
After a few minutes of awkward conversation, she noticed how Castiel hasn't stopped looking at her. "Do I have something on my face?" She asked with a playful tone. Castiel raised an eyebrow and shook his head, "No, your face looks pleasant."
Sam and Dean broke out in a fit of laughter and Y/N couldn't help but laugh along. The angel looked around at the group, confused as to what he didn't understand. "What? Was that supposed to be humorous?" He questioned.
The group laughed and teased him for some time. It was nice, relaxing even. Castiel did not feel that way though, he was so confused and trying desperately to understand the humor in it.
Such an interesting first impression.
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She'd known Cas for a few months now. They had gotten close, he often spent time with her in her room, reading or just sitting and watching her while she occupied herself.
Right now, she was reading on her bed. She was laying on her stomach, her ankles crossed in the air behind her. Castiel had appeared in her room without her knowing, sitting quietly at her desk.
He began studying her area, looking at all her different items and possessions. He lifted up one of her notebooks, them all being stacked neatly on the corner of her work surface. Opening it, he scanned the doodles that circled the words. A small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth.
He set the notebook down on his lap, glancing over at Y/N to make sure she was still engulfed in her book. Satisfied, he reached over to grab a pen from her collection. He studied the ink inside of it, a beautiful storm of baby blue ink mixed with sparkling glittery stars.
He began creating little drawings next to hers, small clouds and a smiley face that mirrored the ones she had drawn previously. He smiled, an odd sense of pride washing over him.
He closed the journal and set it back down. Then he reached over and set the pen carefully back into its container. When he pulled back, the sleeve of his trench-coat caught on a pencil and caused the case to knock over.
Immediately, she jumped back into an awkward crawl looking position, groaning when she realized it was just Castiel. "Cas, what did I tell you about randomly showing up?" She said as she got up, walking over to her desk to clean up the mess. "Please, and I can't stress this enough, knock on my door."
He nodded, a frown playing on his lips. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." He moved to help her, quickly setting the container up right as she gathered the utensils and placed them neatly back in.
She sighed and faced him, "It's okay, just be more careful." She turned to walk away and tripped on Castiel's foot, falling to the ground and grunting.
Castiel quickly got up and pulled her back to her feet. "Are you okay?" He hurried, turning her to face him. She laughed dryly and waved his hands away, "I'm fine, really, I'm fine."
"I just need to be more careful."
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Ever since that incident, even though it was such a small thing, Cas has never left her side. Even more so when they're on hunts, and especially when she gets hurt.
"Fuck! Sammy!" She groaned, her head falling back onto the cold tile of the abandoned hospital. Sam quickly rushed towards her, lifting her head from the floor and into his lap. "Damn it, Y/N." He muttered, stroking her hair in an attempt to soothe her.
She groaned as Dean put pressure on her abdomen, desperately trying to stop the bleeding. "Dean, that hurts!" She spat at him through bared teeth. He scoffed, "Yeah, I bet it does."
Cas appeared, back towards them. He looked around, turning his body and realizing what was happening. "No." Was all he could say before he was down on the ground, nearly shoving Dean away from her.
His hands pressed down on her stomach and she hissed, pain shooting through her body. When the white light appeared beneath his hands her brain got foggy and she couldn't exactly recall what was happening.
After a moment, Castiel had picked her up off the ground and was carrying her to the Impala. He gently stroked her back, his hand tracing the same clouds he drew in her notebook months ago onto her skin.
She recognized instantly that's what he was creating and she let out a breathy laugh, "The clouds.." He smiled and nodded, "Yeah, the clouds. I figured you would like them."
He was correct.
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"I'm fine! You guys don't need to baby me!" She groaned as Cas walked her into the diner, his hand gently squeezing hers as she whined. "We aren't babying you, we're taking care of you." Sam retorted, rolling his eyes at her complaint.
As they sat down, Cas sat down next to her, still holding her hand. Both the brothers looked at each other and then Dean stared her down. She hated that secret language they spoke with their eyes. She tried relentlessly to decode it, but always failed.
"What?" She questioned, and Dean's mouth flattened into a thin line, raising his hands before slapping them against his thighs, all in one swift motion. "Look, whatever you and lover-boy got going on, it's none of my business." He said with a nod towards the angel.
"Dean, really?" Sam said in an instant response to his brother's comment. Cas's eyebrows were raised before he spoke, "Who's lover-boy?" Y/N rolled her eyes, squeezing his hand in a reassuring way, "Nobody, he's teasing you - us." The older Winchester laughed, his first hitting the table as he glanced at his brother. "Is Cas feelin' a bit jelly?"
"Jelly..? Like.. the-" Cas started, but he was cut off Y/N, "Castiel, do not entertain him and his bullshit." She warned, finally pulling her hand away from his. Cas's face shifted, a small frown dragging down the corners of his mouth. His hand explored up her thigh and connected her hand back with his. She glanced at the vessel before sighing with an eye roll, "Cas-"
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Castiel was laying on the bed next to her, trying to understand the comicality of the film they were watching. Y/N was a laughing mess, and even though he didn't understand, he loved her laugh.
It was so beautiful to listen to. So beautiful to see. The way her cheeks bloomed with red, the way around her eyes crinkled, the way the T.V light lit a sparkle in her eyes.
He noticed that about her, how she just glowed. Her smile, her kindness - oh and his favorite - her touch. When she hugged him or ruffled his hair he adored it. Craved it, even.
He talked to Dean about it, figuring he would be able to explain it. He was so confusing. Sam had to simplify his brother's version and dumbed it down for Cas.
He felt romantically attracted to Y/N.
"Cas?" Her voice cut through his pondering mind. He looked over at her, the soft expression on her face causing a tingly feeling within his stomach. "Yes?" He responded simply.
"Sam talked to me earlier. Said I should tell you how I feel." She stated, returning her focus back to the movie. He cocked a brow, his eyes squinting a bit. "Feelings? What feelings?" He felt that familiar nervousness he usually felt when she got more intimate with him. It wasn't a bad nervous, but a jittery, kind of excited type of nervous.
She looked back up at him, a gentle smile on her face. "Have you ever kissed anyone, Cas?" He thought for a moment, a warm feeling flooding his cheeks. "No, but I've seen people kiss. It's really interesting actually. The way two humans show affec-"
He was cut off by her lips crashing onto his. He froze for a moment, but he quickly grasped onto her hips and pulled her up to his lap, his fingers digging into the plump flesh.
"Fuck, Cas," She murmured and his eyes darted to hers. "Did I hurt you?" He frowned and she giggled, "I don't think you ever could." He smiled and continued savoring the taste of her mouth, his hands moving to her waist.
Suddenly, she was flipped onto her back, a gasp escaping her lips, followed by a giggling fit. He groaned, a primal urge flooding his senses. His lips eagerly moved down to devour her neck, small kisses and bites causing her giggling to increase.
That only fueled him more, peppering kisses down and into the crook of her neck. He then trailed them back up and claimed her mouth once more.
This was a different, more passionate kiss than before. Her hands trailed to the back of his neck, gently tugging on his hair to pull him away from the kiss. "Cas," She giggled, and he just murmured something in response, continuing to worship her mouth.
Once he finally pulled away for air, he nuzzled his face into her chest and she smiled down at him. "Mmm.. You taste exquisite." He praised, his lips placing another kiss to her collarbone. "Exquisite?" She teased, and he nodded wholeheartedly.
She laughed and kissed the top of his head, her hand gently scratching the back of it, her fingers occasionally twirling strands of his hair.
Within a few minutes, she felt herself dozing off. She wished Castiel was able to actually sleep with her, but she knew he'd stay beside her anyway.
"You're tired." The angel stated, resting his chin against her chest. "Yeah, I'm sorry." She didn't know why she apologized, but she felt bad. He would have to lay there on his own while she slept.
It was as if Castiel could read her mind because he quickly switched their positions. Y/N was now resting on top of him and she let out a quiet whine in protest. He hushed her and stroked her hair.
"Sleep, you need rest." He insisted. She tried to push herself off of him, but his arm squeezed her waist, pulling her back down. "Cas, I don't wanna-"
He kissed her forehead and pulled her closer, "Yes, you do. Sleep. When you are relaxed, I am relaxed." And with that, she fell into a blissful, peaceful sleep.
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Y/N woke up earlier than usual. She rolled over, stretching out her legs with a soft groan. She felt the angels arms pull her back into him, resting his head on top of hers.
A smile crept onto her lips when she realized the man next to her was asleep. He had put himself to sleep so he could rest with her.
...
She knew it wasn't normal to be in love with an angel, hell, it was far from it. Nothing in her life was normal, but she knew that how she felt with Cas was good, and it was really, really nice.
And that was all she needed.
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A/N: Okay so hear me out.. I am so exhausted right now, it is 2:52 AM.. You don't wanna know how long I worked on this..
I HAVE HAD THIS OPEN AND WRITING SINCE 10:30 (more or less.)
Please. Send help. I KEPT GETTING DISTRACTED, AND THEN WRITERS BLOCK AND OH IT WAS JUST SO BAD. I had so many ideas I wanted to write with my midnight motivation (I should trademark that) BUT NOW IM READY TO SLUMP.
I hope you enjoyed! GOOD NIGHT.
#supernatural#fluff#castiel#castiel x dean#castiel supernatural#castiel x reader#spn#dean winchester#sam winchester#castiel fanart#dean x reader#dean x y/n#dean x you#deanwinchtser#spn edit#spn gifs#supernatural dean#sam and dean#writers on tumblr#x reader#writers block#writeblr#writers and poets#writerscommunity#writers community#writers#creative writing#writing blog#supernatural fanfiction#fanfic
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