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jaikoyaki · 1 month ago

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One more chance.

//kim minji x reader//Street racing AU// Oneshot //

— Tied her down to my Queen bed. Tease her just enough to hate me.

SYPNOSIS ❯❯❯❯ Rivals, exes, idiots with fast cars. you race, you fight, you kiss—sometimes not in that order. tonight’s supposed to settle the score. but when has that ever gone to plan?

WARNINGS ❯❯❯❯ Suggestive jokes/themes, Explicit Language, gayness

TAGS ❯❯❯❯ Street Racing AU, Enemies/exes to something, Fluff, Mutual Pining, teeny tiny angst, Underground Racing Culture, FEM!READER

WC ❯❯❯❯ 3.3K

A/N ❯❯❯❯ Bro. Why do all my writing sprees start at 1am. like thats my peak freak hour. I nearly titled this “fast & freaky” 😿🙏 and every time I reread it in the morning I cringe so bad oml. Also fuck tumblr i got this accidentally posted this twice

Minji looks stupid good under neon.

Always has, always will.

She’s got on this oversized firetruck red windbreaker, slung off one shoulder, and a navy cap pulled low so the bold “P” hides her eyes. Not that it matters. You know that look. You’ve memorized it.

Her little crew is wrapped around her like she’s royalty but you know better.

She never needed an entourage.

She had you.

Once, you were the one by her side. Closer than any of them.

Now you’re across the lot, gripping the wheel like it’s her hand and praying your engine doesn’t stall the second she glances your way again.

You’re parked right at the edge of the strip—an old shipping yard they turned into a half-legal racetrack, lit only by flickering floodlights and the glow of brake lights. Smoke curls into the sky from burnt-out tires. The air’s thick with gas, sweat, and something else you won’t name.

People are everywhere, perched on hoods, crowding around the starting line, drinks in hand, phones out. Some are here to race, most are just here to watch.

“YOU KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS!”

The host’s voice crackles through the busted PA system, slicing through bass and bad decisions.

“Another night, another round of racing! Don’t cry when your bets flop! And don’t cry too hard when your car eats shit on the last corner!”

The crowd whoops. Somewhere behind you, someone lets off a firecracker.

You roll your eyes and lean back against your car, arms crossed over your chest.

“He’s getting more dramatic every time,” you mutter.

“Yeah,” Ryujin replies, slipping beside you, “but he’s right. Bet money’s gonna get ugly tonight.”

You shoot her a look. “You betting against me now?”

She snorts. “Please. I like my money where I can count it.”

Then she elbows you. “You know Minji’s crew showed up an hour early just to scout the track?”

Your gaze flicks across the lot. Minji’s still there—right where you left her in your rearview mirror.

“Guess she’s worried.”

“Or,” Ryujin says, nudging your shoulder, “..she’s just taking it seriously. Word is a sponsor specifically requested this race.”

“What race?”

She deadpans. “The one you’re in. With her.”

You blink. “Huh..?”

Ryujin stares at you. “Did you not read the group chat?”

You definitely did not.

“Some hotshot sponsor asked for you two specifically. Said it’d draw a crowd.”

You frown. “Why? We always end up tying anyway.”

“Exactly,” she grins, “they eat that shit up. Everyone wants to see who’ll finally win.”

You sigh, turning your attention to the starting line where two cars rev. Another crew-versus-crew race about to start. One of the drivers signals to the crowd, standing half-out the window, hyping them up. His engine is loud like it's got something to prove. The other car flashes its headlights in response.

“Ten seconds!” the host calls out, voice echoing off rusted metal and sweat-slick concrete. A girl in fishnets raises her arms at the starting line, bandana fluttering from one wrist like a flag.

You and Ryujin watch in silence.

"That one’s from Jeno’s crew,” She murmurs, nodding toward the black Supra with matte decals. “He’s fast, but he always oversteers on turns. Cocky.”

You hum, eyes locked on the track.

The girl drops her arms.

Engines scream, tires screech, and the two cars launch forward like rockets.

The crowd erupts as they rip down the makeshift strip.

They drift the last corner hard, one nearly clipping the sidewall. It's messy, but it earns a cheer.

“Messy,” you mutter. “But ballsy.”

“Mhm,” Ryujin agrees. “Still won’t beat you, though.”

You flash her a small smile. But it fades the second you glance back across the lot—

Minji’s not in her spot anymore.

She’s moved closer to the track, standing just behind the barrier, closer than she needs to be.

And closer to you.

You spot her through the smoke just as another set of tires scream across the finish. She’s got that look on again—the one that says she’s thinking three steps ahead.

Well, fine. So are you.

You push off your car and stroll over, hands deep in your pockets, the smirk already forming.

“You finally come to get a better look?” you ask, stopping just a little too close. Like, you-can-smell-her-perfume close.

Minji doesn’t flinch. “Just wanted to see what kind of excuse your crew’s gonna spit out when you choke again.”

“Cute,” you grin. “You sound nervous.”

Her eyes slide to yours. “You wish.”

You laugh under your breath. “You always talk more when you're trying not to feel something.”

The parking lot was empty, save for the two of you and the occasional buzz of a streetlamp overhead.

“You should probably ease off throttle in that second turn. If the back end slips, counter-steering alone won’t be enough, you’ll need—” She paused, catching herself mid-ramble.

You raised an eyebrow, looking over. “Min.”

“What?”

“You’re overthinking again.”

Minji sighed, low and annoyed, more at herself than you. “I’m not.”

“Yes you are. You nervous?”

She didn’t answer right away. Her eyes stayed on the dark stretch of road beyond the lot, and her voice, when it came, was tight. “It’s not nerves. I just... like to be prepared.”

You nudged her with your shoulder. “And I know when you’re lying.”

She glanced at you, and for a second, something softened in her expression—like she wanted to admit it, to just let it out. But then the wall came back up. She took another sip of her drink, voice casual again. “Then stop asking dumb questions.”

You smiled. “You don’t have to be scared of losing.”

“I’m not,” she said, too fast.

And that was all the confirmation you needed.

Her jaw ticks, just barely.

Bullseye.

“I talk more when I’m bored,” she fires back, deadpan. “And you’re a slow burn.”

You tilt your head, lips twitching. “Funny. You weren’t bored last time you were in my backseat.”

Her jaw tightens.

“Oh—we’re still pretending that didn’t happen?” you say, sweetly venomous. “Should I shut up before your crew hears how loud you were?”

Minji’s team starts glancing around awkwardly. Yours is already watching like this is the undercard fight before the main event.

“And here I thought red was your lucky color,” you muse, eyeing the way it clings to her. “Still looks better crumpled up on my floor.”

That does it.

She spins on her heel and stalks back to her side without saying a word.

You watch her go, a smug little curl tugging at your lips.

She’s rattled.

Exactly where you want her.

–

Minji stalks back to her side of the lot. The crowd’s still buzzing, cheers, engines, someone yelling about lost bets—but she doesn’t hear any of it.

Her head’s still full of you.

Of the way your voice dropped, just enough to make her pulse beat faster. The stupid smirk you wore like it was your default face. God, it’s like you know exactly which buttons to push, and worse, you do it on purpose.

She’s halfway to her crew’s car when Hanni materializes beside her.

“She’s so annoying,” Minji mutters, yanking off her gloves one finger at a time like they personally offended her.

“And hot,” Hanni chimes in like she’s checking off a list. “Annoying and hot. The deadliest combo.”

Minji shoots her a look.

“What?” Hanni shrugs, hands buried in her hoodie pockets. “You keep racing her. That can’t just be about pride. Either you’re trying to prove something to her, or you’re hoping she rear-ends you and calls it foreplay.”

Minji glares. “Hanni.”

“I’m just saying, man.” Hanni says, all innocent. “You get weird when she’s around. Stiff. Clenchy. Very Batman-core.”

“I’m not—”

“You are,” Hanni cuts in. “You were flirting and fighting at the same time. Flirting-with-enemies-to-lovers pipeline speedrun.”

Minji scowls, dragging a hand through her hair. “It’s not—she’s just… distracting.”

Hanni grins. “Awww. She gets under your skin. That’s sooo gay of you.”

Minji doesn’t respond. She doesn’t have to. Her silence says enough, especially when her eyes flick back toward the track. Toward where you’re standing.

She still remembers the last time you two raced. The tie. The after. The stupid, breathless laugh you gave her in the dark when you said, “Bet you let me win.” As if she didn’t push her engine harder than she ever had that night just to keep up.

—

Fifteen minutes later, the host’s voice crackles to life again, loud and electric.

“ALRIIIIIGHT! We’ve got a special matchup tonight, folks—one straight outta hell!”

The crowd roars in anticipation.

“Back by very popular demand—Minji of the NJZ Crew, and Y/N from the 88s! You know ’em. You love ’em. You fear what’s gonna happen if one of them actually wins this time!”

People scream. Cameras flash. Phones are up, recording, live-streaming.

Bets are flying, shouted across the space like war shouts. You even hear someone yell “Fifty grand on the 88s!” over the din.

You step toward the line, helmet swinging from your fingers, engine still humming behind you.

Minji’s already there, leaning against her MR2 like she's posing for a photo. Her windbreaker gone, now tied loose around her waist. She’s in a fitted white tank stamped with I ❤️ ME, Her track pants sit low, hips tilted just so— and okay—

You almost hate how good she looks.

Almost.

She glances at you as you approach, then back to her car, jaw tight.

No words?

You grin.

“What? Not even a ‘good luck’? I thought you were a gracious loser, Min.”

She doesn’t flinch. Just shifts her weight and leans into the door of her car, lips curling into the faintest smirk.

“I was just thinking…” she says, voice slow and deliberate, “how nice your car would look with my initials keyed into the hood.”

You blink. Your cocky grin falters for a second—just a second. Long enough for her to catch it.

She saw.

You recover quick, letting out a short laugh. “Dream big.”

She opens her door but pauses, glancing over her shoulder. “It’s cute when you pretend you’re not nervous,” she says, voice pitched lower now. Just for you. “But I’ve seen the way your hands shake after a close race. You still get that adrenaline high?”

Your jaw clenches.

“Why, you offering to help me wind down after?”

She looks at you then. Really looks. Her eyes drag down your figure like she’s memorizing you.

“Only if you win,” she murmurs. “But we both know you won’t.”

You recover fast—ish. Coughing once. twice. Covering your smile with your hand. Okay. She wants to play like that now?

“You always flirt when you’re desperate?” you ask, trying to steady your voice. It almost works.

Minji raises a brow, eyes gleaming. “Desperate?” She steps closer. “L/N, if I wanted to rattle you, I wouldn’t be using words.”

You open your mouth—ready to snap back, or maybe choke—but the host’s voice cracks through the moment.

You blink.

Wait.

You were supposed to rattle her.

"Let’s make it spicy tonight, shall we?” the host’s voice booms over the speakers, dramatic. "Winner takes ten grand from our very generous sponsor and... who knows—might just walk away with a real racing contract. That’s right, our mystery backer’s in the lot tonight, hunting for the next underground icon. Think of it as your shot at going pro.”

Racing contract.

cheers and gasps ripple through the crowd.

That’s new.

That’s everything you’ve ever wanted

Your heart stutters.

You glance at Minji. Her expression doesn’t change, but you notice how her fingers tighten on the wheel, the knuckles turning white.

“And hey,” the host adds, clearly having the time of his life, “loser’s still the winner’s bitch for the night!”

The crowd explodes.

You smirk behind the glass of your helmet as you finally slide it on, slow and deliberate. Your hands find the wheel like they belong there.

Minji’s already seated, belt clipped, gaze straight ahead.

No more talking.

But you don’t need words to know what she’s thinking.

She wants this.

Bad.

Just like you.

The girl from earlier steps back onto the track, arms raised, bandana whipping in the wind.

Red.

Your foot taps the gas once—just enough to feel the purr of your engine under your heel.

Yellow.

Minji’s MR2 booms beside you, low and steady.

You glance once at her, just once, through the smoke and heat.

She’s already looking at you.

And she smiles.

Green.

The second the light turns green, you’re off.

Rubber shrieks against pavement as your tires fight for grip. The force slams you into your seat.

Minji’s MR2 launches beside you, her shift smooth, timing perfect. She’s done this a hundred times. Maybe a thousand.

She’s right there—mirror to mirror, heartbeat to heartbeat. You can feel her, even through the roar.

She's not holding back. Not tonight.

Streetlights flicker overhead, throwing shadows across the cracked asphalt.

You take the first bend a little too tight—there’s a trash bin sitting half in the road.

You overcorrect, swerve slightly, tires skimming the edge of the curb.

Don’t oversteer. She’ll never let you live it down.

Minji doesn’t flinch.

She sees your mistake and takes advantage, cutting inside and passing you cleanly.

Her MR2 hugs the turn perfectly, tires whispering instead of screaming.

Typical.

You spot an opening: a tight, flooded alley shortcut that most wouldn’t risk. You remember it from scouting earlier, but you hadn’t planned to use it. It’s too unpredictable. Still, you dive in.

Water splashes up the side of your car, and for a moment, the whole chassis shudders.

You're hydroplaning—

Breathe. Don’t panic. Catch it.

You do. Barely.

When you burst out the other side, you’re ahead.

Final lap.

Now it’s you she’s chasing.

The road curves into a long sweeping turn, then tightens into a brutal S-curve right before the finish.

You keep your line tight, eyes flicking between the mirrors and the road.

She’s gaining on you again. She knows this part too well.

She’s not even forcing her car just waiting for you to mess up again.

But then—

Halfway through the lap, right before the last turn, something goes wrong.

Minji’s car stutters.

You don’t stop. Can’t. Not now.

You tear across the finish line a second later.

You win.

The crowd erupts. Fireworks explode somewhere off in the distance, a streak of color lighting up the night sky. Your name’s being screamed, shouted, echoed all around you. Someone grabs your arm—probably Ryujin, lifting it high into the air. You barely hear them. You barely hear anything, honestly.

Minji’s out of her car by the time you circle back. She gives you a stiff nod, lips pressed thin like she’s biting something back.

“Congrats,” she says.

You want to say something—Thank you? Did I? Are you okay? Was that real?—but she’s already walking off, disappearing into the crowd before anyone can stop her.

And maybe the crowd’s still celebrating, but all you can think about is her jaw. Clenched. Her fists. Shoved too deep in her pockets. The way her eyes didn’t meet yours long enough to say what she really felt.

She’s pissed.

You know her.

All too well.

Later, when the chaos has faded, you find yourself steering your car toward the place you’re 99% sure she went.

An old lot, tucked behind an abandoned strip mall. No lights. No noise. Just the faint hum of a playlist she always swore helped her “focus,” even though half of it was just twice songs and alt-pop breakup songs.

Sure enough, her MR2’s there.

Hood popped. Headlights dimmed.

Minji stands with her back to you, sleeves rolled up, frowning at the mess under the hood like she’s trying to will it back to life.

You park a few spaces down and walk over.

“I thought I told you to replace the starter,” you say casually, eyeing the cables.

She jumps. Just a little.

“You stalking me now?” she says, not looking up.

“No,” you lie. “Just figured I’d find you sulking somewhere.”

“...Not sulking,” she mutters. “Just...processing.”

“Uh huh.”

You step closer. The smell of smoke and hot metal lingers in the air. You glance at the engine, then at her hands. She’s holding the wrench wrong.

You sigh. “You’re gonna strip the bolt like that.”

“I know how to fix my car,” she snaps.

You hold up your hands. “Didn’t say you didn’t. Just offering.”

She hesitates.

Then, quietly so quietly “...Fine.”

You take the wrench from her. Your fingers brush. She tenses.

And suddenly, it’s just the two of you again. Just like it used to be. Two grease-stained idiots under the hood, arguing about torque specs and spark plugs.

“Still a little dramatic,” you mutter, tightening a bolt.

“Says the girl who revved so loud the crowd thought a jet was landing.”

You glance at her sideways. “Eh. Admit it. You missed this.”

She scoffs. “You wish.”

You grin. “You let me win.”

That gets her. Her face twitches.

“No, I didn’t,” she says, but you catch it. That tiny, guilty shift in her eyes.

You step in closer, wiping your hands on your jeans.

“You knew how much I wanted that contract,” you say, voice quieter now. “It’s all I ever talked about.”

Her jaw tightens, and her eyes don't meet yours. She’s thinking—really thinking, like she always does when she doesn’t know how to feel.

You remember those late-night conversations, way before any of this. When it was just you two, talking about your futures under the glow of her dads garage lights. You used to tell her about your big dream of making it as a real racer. You said it like it was just some offhand joke, but she saw it. She always did. The way your eyes lit up when you said it. She knew.

And then, in the present, as the host’s words echoed in the back of her mind, she saw your eyes shine when they mentioned the contract. You were ready to take it, to take that chance, and she let you.

“Min,” you say, softer, “your car was fine five minutes before the race.”

She still doesn’t speak. Just looks away. Jaw tight.

Her lips tremble slightly, but she stays quiet. Always holding back. Always too in control. But not tonight.

You step in closer, close enough to feel the warmth radiating off her skin. Close enough to see the way her fists twitch like she’s holding back from either hitting you or grabbing you.

You don’t say anything else.

You just wait.

And maybe that’s what breaks her.

Because a second later, she moves.

No warning—just a sharp inhale, and then she’s on you. Arms locking around your shoulders, body crashing into yours like she’s trying to shove all the distance out of the way. She hugs you hard. Desperate. Her breath hits your neck hot and ragged, and you feel the tension in her spine like a livewire.

Her grip’s bruising. Her nails dig into your back like she wants to hurt you for making her care this much. But you don’t let go.

You never could.

She buries her face into the curve of your neck, and the exhale she lets out sounds like a surrender as her hands slide down your sides, fingers pressing into your waist with a force that leaves no room for escape. Her lips graze your skin when she speaks, sounding shaky and too honest.

“I missed you,” she mutters, and god—it’s not fair, the way your heart jumps like you haven’t heard her lie a hundred times before.

Rivals, sure. Exes, yeah. But damn—her hands still remember the shape of your waist better than her steering wheel.

MINJI IN RED LIKE😻😻��😜 RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

taglist: @arihiu @fruityg0rl @keiji-jin @strangercat @yjiminswallet @hazel-tanthamore22 @idkwhatim-doinghere101 @gtfoiydlyj @Mj.Db @gtfoiydlyjm @somedaydream @peranoo @syronns @angiisss @Drvirgus @aloneinacity @nnewjeansstuff @imsogay504 @sh1ba100 @tashasmywife

#newjeans x reader #newjeans #minji #kim minji #minji x reader #kim minji x reader #newjeans minji #njz #njz x reader #njz minji

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shanastoryteller · 5 months ago

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I was one of the anons that didn’t know what to think when I first saw the Sam/Dean tag on See Something Say Something but now I’m like. You know what fuck it, you write it well. I look forward to every chapter and i apologize for being a hater

LOOOL you are forgiven we have all guzzled hatorade at some point

during my initial foray into supernatural (when i was watching the early seasons in real time) i didn't ship them at all until i read a crack fic as a joke

The incestuous courtship of the antichrist's bride by fleshflutter

summary: Sam is trying to become the Antichrist in order to save the world. He has a small army of angels and demons, he has an adoring cult, he has a work of prophecy by Jack Kerouac, and he has Dean. Things are going pretty well until he accidentally signs Dean up as his Beloved Consort, a role that requires sex with the Antichrist on an altar. And that's when things stop going pretty well. Also, the soundtrack to the Apocalypse sucks.

it has no business being as unbelievably good as it is, but also it was my first fleshflutter fic so i didn't know what i was getting myself into. it's one of my favorite fics in any fandom just because the balance of crack and horror and love and humor is so finely done that you just have to go damn. even if i hated everything about this fic i would still love it

but i was like, okay, just because this fic was good doesn't mean i really ship it. like what's wrong with just a freaky little codependent brotherly relationship? the ship mostly just exists because they're hot

then i read Stranger Than Fiction by nyxocity

summary: Meta-comedy/drama set immediately post-4x18, The Monster at the End of This Book. Dean can't stop wondering why people would write gay porn about him and Sam. Research takes him to interesting places; re-reading novels for subtext, visiting message boards, and a really freaky place called LiveJournal. What he discovers is a sick fascination with fanfiction, more about gay sex than he ever wanted to know, and an even deeper obsession with understanding why people write this stuff. Meanwhile, they're hunting a mysterious monster that takes the form of a person's truest love to kill them slowly, the lines between fanfiction and reality are starting to break down, and they still have to stop Lilith and save the world.

which reads like it's crack, which is probably why i clicked on it, and isn't really. not only did the author convince sam and dean, they also convinced me. i was like okay fine you make a compelling argument

and when supernatural sucked me in this time a decade later, i was once more like well! yeah wincest is fine but i really am just a sucker for a good fucked up brotherly relationship. no need to be a folgers commercial about it

then i read It's the Blueprint of Your Life by queenklu

summary: Sam jerks awake in the middle of the night and everything goes to hell. Well, not literally, though Dean is staring down the barrel of less than a year before his deal comes due. In the midst of dealing (or not dealing) with his impending death, a killer ghost ship, and Bela showing up out of the blue, Dean also has to figure out what’s going on in Sam’s head to make him so twitchy, why he’s suddenly breezing through this case while writing endless notes in a notebook he won’t let Dean see. Damn it, Dean thinks, This is gonna take a lot of chickflick moments.

which is not only one of my very favorite supernatural fics but the one that made me throw up my hands and go fine!! i ship it then!! are you happy now?

pleased and honored to be your gateway drug in these trying times <3

#the wincest fic writers are really something else #they're just so good? i have no choice #also i tend to find sex scenes boring and will often skip them because they're not character driven enough #but you know what wincesties have down to a fucking art? really good and compelling character driven and character exploratory sex scenes #i'm looking at you goshen #asks #anon #supernatural

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gyuswhore · 11 months ago

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Never Shall We Die (3; final)

«« Nothing is too outlandish when it’s a life of liberty on the line. »»

PAIRING: kwon soonyoung x reader

PLAYLIST: right here!

pirate lingo glossary (pls refer!)

SYNOPSIS: Deadliest pirate on the high seas or a damn fool? The stupid King and his men have snatched Hoshi's precious pirate ship with their too clean, too soft hands; grounds to question his own vices. Except, when he and his crew land in the quarters of a navy ship, revenge on their roster, they stumble across a princess in its gallows. Hoshi wonders if he's just struck gold, or if you'd become the final tread to his downfall.

GENRES: pirate!au, enemies to lovers, slowburn, angst, fluff, smut [minor dni], some pirates of the carribean vibes but ? idk

WORD COUNT [full fic]: 48.1k

Part 1: 17.07k | Part 2: 15.2k | Part 3 [final] : 15.8k

@highvern's out of context comment box: new fear unlocked: hoshi with explosives, victorian ankle moment, HATE HIM (need him carnally), hoshi covered in soapy water would distract me enough, strip for me pirate mingyu [hes litrally taking off his jacket], your honor hes a bitch, freaks!, mingyu crushes hoshi's head like a grape, WONWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, massive dick, the way i literally gasped like an old scandalized woman

masterlist

WARNINGS: slowburn, plot heavy, happy ending bc no angsty endings in this household, being taken hostage, knives, bombs, and guns, mentions of blood, mentions of SA (does not happen and it is not explicitly mentioned), alcohol, mentions of death (patricide), hoshi is ✨selectively moral✨but kind of moral nonetheless, side character death, [pls lmk if im missing something its alot] smut tags: hoshi loves thighs, corruption kink to the mAX, clit stimulation, oral (f. receiving), breast play, p in v sex (unprotected, 1800s contraception will make you prefer it but pls dont do this irl), making out

[AN]: final part oh my god if youve read the other parts up till now, THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE YOU i hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as i loved writing it, im really proud of this fic and im so happy so many of you have enjoyed it so far. @highvern betaing as always ty for not giving up on me. AS ALWAYS, PLS TELL ME YOUR THOTS IN THE RBS OR THE REPLIES OR SEND ME AN ASK LITERALLY WTV MUAH MUAH HAPPY READING <3

THIS IS THE NICEST PRISON Hoshi has ever been in, which was saying something, because he had been in quite a lot of prisons.

But it was uncomfortable nonetheless, six grown men tied up and shoved into a crouching space to be done with as the men that prowled above pleased.

Hoshi would be lying if he said he hadn’t had to restrain from pushing some of those sorry soldiers into the ice waters beyond the glaciers. He had resisted, the crew had resisted, but just enough to convince them of their unwillingness.

Hoshi had realised early on that there was no possible way of getting aboard Tigress without somehow climbing aboard the King’s boat first. The king wasn’t about to simply hand Hoshi’s ship over, and there was no indication that they'd wait till after nightfall to depart.

Hoshi also knew that the King would refuse to have him die so easily in the waters of the Green Islands, his pride depended on it. He imagines the man drawing up the specifics of the most gruesome execution the Kingdom would ever see. Hoshi was counting on it.

The bounds could’ve been broken out of and the locks somehow picked, but Hoshi also knew that he had to wait. Wait for you to find him first.

“What’s taking her so long?” Jun asks. He’d been the most anxious out of all, the shaking feet and restless moving making it clear.

“The bomb won’t…go off still strapped to her, will it?” Minghao asks and Hoshi isn’t quite sure he wants to know the answer.

“It shouldn’t. Not until she pulls the tab. But…”

“But?” Hoshi whips around. “Why is there a but? You were supposed to make sure there was no but!”

“Big bomb, more boom, less predictable!”

“Are you sure we can’t break out and look for her ourselves?” Mingyu grumbles, the most compromised with his longer limbs folded in uncomfortable positions.

“The minute they know we’re loose they’ll swarm her. There won’t be a way to get to her, not without fighting off every last bastard on this ship. They’ve taken our stuff too, we don’t stand a chance.”

They did, actually, stand a chance. But that was only if they were to break away and head straight for Tigress that was empty and standing right beside this very ship. But they couldn’t. Hoshi couldn’t. Not without taking you with him.

Nobody dares to suggest the easier route, and he doubts it’s just because of what he wants.

But panic was beginning to trickle into Hoshi’s veins anyway, the closed off brig refusing to give him any indication of the time of day.

The sun was only beginning to set when they were taken to the ship, and he knew they were near done for if they didn’t finish what they started before nightfall. He can’t tell how long it’s been, and it eats away at his insides.

Please be okay.

And then he hears it, the sound of a body hitting the floors with a loud thud, a chortle of air before it’s knocked out. He finds himself sitting up straighter, pressing his hands to bars of the prison, trying to peer out the narrow walkway that leads to the doors.

And then you appear in the lamplight, haphazard and ruffled up beyond measure.

The knife in your hand drips with blood, your shirt torn at the arms, your hands bloodied and bruised.

When Hoshi sees your face he almost doesn’t recognise you.

There’s angry blooming marks of red and purple all across your neck and collarbone, your eyes bloodshot and red, watering like you’d been swimming in salt water.

“Who did this?” he asks before anything else, watching you drop to your knees in front of the prison, unanswering as you fumbled with a giant ring of keys in your hand.

You jam each key into the lock, twisting it to no avail. Your hands are shaking.

The crew finally twist out of their loose bonds, Minghao lurching forward immediately, swatting your hands away. He picks out a few skinny pins from his boot, picking the rusty lock. Despite the strange angle, the bars creak open within seconds.

“There’s…There’s ropes hooked onto the ship on the main deck.”

Your voice sounds like you’re speaking through sandpaper, talking while struggling to emerge with the bomb you had.

Hoshi doesn’t know what to do when he crawls out of the space.

He’d had it all figured out in his head, what would happen in every possible outcome. You getting hurt wasn’t in any of his universal conclusions; especially not on this ship. They’d kill his crew, they might even kill the King with themselves, but you were meant to remain unscathed.

“Why–why do you look like that? What happened?” Nothing registers in his head, not even when Jun is pushing him out into the hall.

“Get up to the deck and get out across the lines!” Jun gruffs in his ears. “That bomb’s gonna go off with us still on here.”

He sees the canister that lies in the same prison they had just exited, he sees your mouth moving without sound. All he can think of are the distinct fingerprints around your throat and how it looked like somebody tried to kill you before they tried to kill him.

“Soonyoung,” he hears you say in a broken voice and that’s all it takes for him to snap out of it.

His crew is looking at him expectantly. He looks back at the door and sees the crumpled bodies of the prison guards.

So much for leaving quietly.

The minute Hoshi is out the door of the brig, he finds a chest next to the collapsed, bleeding soldiers. Kicking it open, he can only scoff as he finds the entire crew’s weapons in such close vicinity.

He feels better with his dagger at his hip, along with the rest of his knives that he slips into the loops. Even more so with the rest of his crew armed and ready.

“We know where the deck is.” He swallows, eyeing his crew’s weapons in their ready hands. He knew they’d agreed to ensure the clean sinking of the ship, but the fallen bodies on the floor were an ode to a different route they’d have to take. “Don’t hesitate if someone gets in your way.”

Taking cautious steps to the upper decks, he finds more bodies collapsed onto the floor, bleeding and unconscious. He opts to ask you the details later, wondering how you were able to take down all these guards by yourself.

It isn’t until they reach the stairs that lead to the main deck that he comes across a guard.

Before the witness can raise any alarm, Hoshi’s slamming the butt of his dagger into the side of his head, knocking him clean unconscious as he falls off the side of the short railing.

Clambering up the steps as quietly as possible, he raises a hand behind him to signal his crew to halt, peering into the main deck first.

The sun is still out, but low in the sky as it dips in the sky. There’s a few people on the deck, pacing and moving about in preparation for departure. Angling his gaze, he finds ropes suspended over the edge of the railing, parallel to the water.

He can’t see Tigress, but he knows that’s what the ropes are hooked on to.

“Jun,” he beckons. “How long till the bomb on the other ship goes off?”

The bomb Jun had planted in the first ship they had arrived in should be going off any time now, and Hoshi finds himself needing it to go off now.

Jun barely opened his mouth to reply when the ship shuddered.

For a moment, Hoshi thinks the bomb in the brigs had gone off, but when he finds the clambering of boots to one side of the ship, opposite to where the ropes tied to Tigress, he realises their surrogate ship had given its last gift to the crew.

The rest of the ship would be bounding to the main deck to inspect the noise soon, so he shoots a quick, “Hurry!” behind him before stepping onto the main deck.

The entire deck is occupied with the ship that lies a ways away across the expanse of sea, the beginnings that would soon lead the entire ship to be engulfed in flames. It’s tilting at a dangerous angle.

Hoshi stands as he uses the crew straight towards the ropes that lead to Tigress. Glancing, he finds Mingyu and Chan already hanging on the suspended ropes, making their way towards the empty deck of their ship.

Hoshi keeps his eyes on the occupied men on board, still staring at the lightshow that was their old ship. It isn’t until one of them turns, eyes towards the stairs that lead to the lower decks, that his eyes dart to the unfamiliar men on the deck.

“Fuck,” Hoshi curses, before lunging, grabbing the man by the shoulders and covering his mouth, dragging him wordlessly to the edge before throwing him off the ship and into the icy waters below.

“Go!” he hears you rasp brom behind him, ushering him to the ropes.

The crew is gone, Jun making the last jump to land on the deck. They’re running around, pulling ropes and fastening the sails to push the ship off into open waters as soon as possible.

There’s two ropes that tie the two ships together, and Hoshi ushers you onto one of them, pushing you to suspend yourself before he follows.

“There’s not enough time, go to the other one!” you tell him, pushing him to hold onto the other tattered rope.

Soonyoung eyes your state, “Are you sure you can—”

“Yes! I promise I can, please, before they cut both the ropes.”

So he trusts you, eyes straight ahead to the railing of his ship, gripping the rough, frayed rope to push himself towards the deck. His hands burn, but he finds himself moving ever closer to his final destination.

His hand grabs hold of the wooden railing of his Tigress at long last, pulling himself onto the deck of his beloved ship. Immediately whipping his head to his right, he tries to find you reaching the ship with him. The crew is preoccupied in attempting to get the ship ready for departure, he finds your form nowhere.

When he looks back, the rope he had climbed was gone, leaving gaping space in its absence. He trails the second rope, from the hook that had dug into the railing of Tigress’s wood, trailing it to the naval ship’s deck.

What he sees puts his heart in his throat.

You stand on the deck of your father’s ship, swarmed by now alert guards and soldiers who swarm you, yelling profanities and orders as they watch their prisoners get away right in front of them.

Hoshi watches as you lift your dagger, and cut the last rope that ties you together, free to fall and hit against the hull of his ship.

He calls out your name in what could only be described as a guttural scream.

His crew halts whatever it was they were doing, taking the steps to realise what had just happened.

Hoshi’s boot meets the top of the railing, ready to take the plunge into the water. He’d climb back up the ship and get you out. He doesn’t know what you were thinking, what he was thinking when he left you there, but he’d get you out.

Arms pulling him, he’s yanked back and positively thrown onto the deck.

“What is wrong with you?” Minghao yells, pushing his captain back as he springs up.

“She—”

Your father emerges from the crowd of guards and soldiers that run rampant on the deck, approaching you at the railing of the main deck.

Hoshi sees the hand that remains on his shoulder, the blood that covers the still bleeding wound, the effort it takes him to simply walk.

The bruises on your neck, the wound at his shoulder that looks like it was slashed through by a knife.

And then it clicks in Hoshi’s head, what had truly happened in the hours that you were out of his sight. And all he sees is red.

WITH THE WAY THE words on the pages seem to double, you would’ve thought you were going mad.

You’re a child, barely grown into your own body as you sit in the dimly lit library of the palace, utterly exhausted, wishing to be anywhere but sitting at the wooden desk with your name on it. The moon barely shone through the window, your only source of light the fireplace that burned in the corner and your lamplight.

It was a time where you felt like you could prove yourself, that perhaps, the reason your father refused you his approval was because you were simply not working hard enough. And now, at an hour where you should be fast asleep in your four poster bed, you attempt to understand diplomatic structures and everything that made your country what it was.

It was late, and there was nothing you would’ve liked more than to put your head on the table and rest your eyes for a few tantalising seconds, which you do, right over the book you were reading.

You awoke in the same place, shaken awake by a panicked looking servant, the sun shining through the great windows of the palace library.

It seems your disappearance from your bedchambers had put the entire palace in disarray, not realising the princess was fast asleep behind the giant pile of books other servants had already skimmed past thrice.

Not only were you unable to recite the rankings of the constitutions with the vigour your father required, but you were unable to give him a reason as to why you were absent for both breakfast and morning lessons.

He made the servants kneel in the throne room for hours, and did not fail to tell you that it was all your fault.

And now, in the ice cold of the Green Islands, old and wise enough to know that your father simply needed a reason to despise his heir, you accept the hands around your throat as his final act of terror.

Red faced and arms shaking, your father does not speak to you as he presses down on your windpipe with all his might. Your vision is going dark and splotchy, and you decide, for a moment, to let him have this moment.

He’s too preoccupied in applying his pressure to realise that you’ve raised your right foot enough for your hands to fish out your knife from its place, taking positivity in the handle of your knife that fits in your hand.

Before you can lose consciousness, you raise your arm high, and plunge it directly into his neck.

Howling, he releases you from his hold, both of you dropping to the floor of the ship with a resonating thud. You cough, sputter and hack, cold hands finding your now warm neck.

Your father lays clutching his shoulder as he remains in agony on the floor, and you realise you missed the crucial plunge in your own disarray.

It was good enough, rendering the old man incapable of finding his bearings.

You watch as he writhes on the floor of the quarters that almost became your figurative deathbed, the same hands that wrapped around his own daughter’s throat now clutching the shallow wound that renders him useless.

Standing over him, throwing your own shadow on his body, you feel a surge of power, a rush of adrenaline that shoots straight to your head. Perhaps this was your circulation returning from the deprivation, but you let the feeling imprint in your soul, let your father’s broken figure bring you satisfaction.

You leave him there, writhing in pain, digging your knife under the lock of the quarters, pulling back to break it away from the door. The guards stationed outside do nothing as you leave, and it isn’t until you’ve taken to lower decks that you hear the distinct yell of, “Your Majesty!”

Two more guards, who don’t expect an altercation from their princess, simply buffer as you send your knife plunging into them both. You do it deep this time.

Nobody was innocent, you knew these people as your father’s closest men, and knew that all of them were to remain silent as their King murdered his daughter. And when the remorse doesn’t do that thing where it trickles in after doing a bad thing, you decide you weren’t part of the innocents either.

It’s easier than you would’ve expected to get to the crew in the brig, letting out a sigh of relief as you appreciate the familiarity of people on your side.

And when Hoshi took his place to guide everyone out and into the open space of the main deck, you let your racing mind rest and decide to trust the man in whatever decision he made to lead you all out. And he did, he led himself and his crew right into the ship that was theirs, safe and where they would have the upper hand.

Hoshi didn’t know it when he climbed onto the ropes that lead to his boat that he wouldn’t have made it if you hadn’t stayed, hadn’t used your voice of authority to keep the soldiers from attempting to shoot at the escapees, cut the rope while Hoshi remained suspended from it, still only halfway there.

You didn’t look at him when you sliced both ropes before either party could pull back, didn’t register him screaming your name across the void, pretending it wasn’t taking everything out of your strength.

But you couldn’t jump into the water, not now when a dozen of the royal guards remained ready to take the plunge to save their princess as their duty. The same guards that would comply with their king when told the princess was dead for reasons they all knew but were to forget.

The bomb had to go off first, and you had to keep them away from hooking another line to the ship in the meantime. You were operating on a flawed plan and an overenthusiastic crowd of guards that were moments away from shooting a canon straight into the side of the disconnected pirate ship.

The distraction comes in the form of your father parting the crowd of soldiers like the red sea, swatting every soldier that attempts to help his bleeding form for anything it was worth. He approaches you at the railing, and for once, you don’t look at the ground in his presence.

“Bold,” he heaves, the effort in his voice apparent. “Bold of you to think you could slip away.”

“I haven’t tried to slip away, father,” you correct. “I’ve stayed right here, even after you failed to kill me. And I, you.”

“Nobody is going to listen to you, child. Give in. This is the easy way out,” he says.

As if on cue, Jun’s bomb goes off for the second time, but this time the ship shudders with more force. It has your father unbalance and fall, along with multiple other soldier’s stumbling. You grip the railing tight, counting on your father’s need to live.

Despite your horrid throat and the ache in your body, you announce as loud as you can. “The bomb is in the brig, this ship is sinking.”

The fallen king trembles in a rage you had never quite seen before. Any other time of your life, you would’ve wished for the ground to swallow you whole to be the subject of such anger.

Except, in the setting sun, a burning ship in the background, a pirate ship that awaits you, and the ground beneath your feet that was actively sinking into the freezing water; you smile at your doomed King.

“Get to the brig! Secure the lower decks, do not let this ship sink or so help me God!” His voice rings across the deck, spittle blowing from his mouth at the situation.

And just like that, your father gives you the final gift of clearing the main deck out for you, leaving but a few straggling soldiers that are too preoccupied with either the sinking ship or their bleeding sovereign.

Looking back, you find the crew of Tigress standing at the railing, you find Hoshi already half over the edge and send him a slow nod.

Turning back to your father that remains on the floor of the ship that would become his coffin, you utter your next words; for yourself, and the girl that was every second before this, all the way to her first ever memory of sad:

“You’ve taught me to be a ruler fit to be the best for our Kingdom. Consider your death my first act of service for the Crown.”

And then you jumped into the darkening void of the waters below.

THE COLD FEELS LIKE every nerve in your body ceased to work.

It was nothing at first, the temperature so intense it had your body numb in the face of shock. And then it grew, to a striking cold, and then a feeling that pricked every inch of your skin like a million needles plunging into your body. It was only getting worse with each passing second, before it was so painful it was hot, going from cold to searing and blistering like you’d plunged into the licks of flames.

Nowhere in your body did you find a rational sense of mind, something to tell you to kick, flail or float. The warped sky was an orange through the green, only more vibrant. Like there were two ships actively burning on the surface of this water.

Hoshi’s face appears behind your closing eyelids, like a mirage or a taunt. Like he was there with you when he wasn’t.

Would he come for you? Would he take the plunge for the girl he held in his arms, promising her something to fill the gap of a companion, right before she killed her own?

You’d given him what he wanted; your father, his worst enemy, dying as he sank slowly into the bottom of the ocean. You’d run your course of use, and if he was as smart as people claimed, he’d leave you to suffer the same fate as your father.

He could find his freedom elsewhere.

And you would find your freedom in the close of your eyes, and the sinking feeling of nothingness.

Except, you feel a hardness against your body, stronger even than the current of the waters. Moving impossibly upwards, you remember opening your eyes to find a leather cord suspended in the float of the water, before you remember nothing.

THE GREEN ISLANDS WERE on fire.

But as unnatural as it seemed, Hoshi had no inclination to register anything but the way the ship in front of him tilts so far out it's already half submerged in the waters. He’d assumed they might have to ready the cannons, but with the way debris and hollowed wood floats in the waters below, they would not need to.

The King was about to be introduced to Davy Jones’ Locker at the hands of his enemy and successor, but Hoshi could not care enough right now to relish in it.

Right now, he stares at the direct circumference of water your body had made contact with and disappeared into, like the world would explode if he lost his place.

“Should I jump as well?” Mingyu asks, already half taking his boots off. However, when the man turns to find his captain gone, he lurches over the railing to find his captain diving into the water through all the debris.

Hoshi lets the momentum of his dive take him as further down as possible, whipping his head around as soon as his eyes open into the abyss. The water ripples and erupts in showers of bubbles as broken pieces of ship come apart to fall into the water. It blurs his vision immensely, any ripple that could be you in the water coming out to be yet another piece of wasted wood.

The deeper he goes, the more the water presses into his ears. He was a good swimmer, good at holding his breath when needed, but even he had limits.

When he cannot see any sign of you, he begins to feel the churning of something skin to panic brew. Panic was never good, not this deep in the water.

Twisting and turning, flailing about in place, moving dangerously closer to the burning ship that continued to drop flaming bits of killing slabs, he finds no sign of you in the water.

Instead, he watches men in uniform sink deeper and deeper in their failed attempts to stay afloat.

All he can think about is if they were losing the battle for air, then so were you, somewhere deeper in the void than he was. He prays that he’s looking aimlessly, that you’ve already somehow made your way to the surface by yourself, and you were safe on the deck.

The beaded bracelet that remained on his wrist, but belonged to you.

“A reason for you to come out of this alive.”

Even without the encasing on his wrist, you had given him more than enough reason to want to come out of this alive, to want to live beyond just for himself and his duty to the crew he’d taken in.

He chose the life of a pirate because it was his only out, and every member of his crew that he recruited in succession, he acted as the hand he had needed so desperately in that awful brothel where his mother despised him and his father, a faceless man of Port Ash.

Amphitrite was not kind, it was a lesson he learned quickly in his first ventures out at sea. So he too, had to learn to be unkind, to survive in the horrid bellies of ships that weren’t his own. And when Tigress came into his life like a vessel of hope, he found a home in her merciful wood, in the ship that he could call his very own.

Hoshi lived as a free man on his ship, with his crew that had become his brothers in ways beyond what the thick of blood could offer. He did not care if he lived or died after that, as long as it was on his ship, in the waters that held no quarter for anyone, but gave him everything that nothing else could give him.

And so when you approached him with a proposal so bizarre yet so apt for a man like him, he could not refuse. It may have been the way he saw himself in you, terrified of the prospects but thirsting for an escape more than the fear that came with it.

Besides, the king was a nuisance that needed to go, and he found himself agreeing to play the hand too complicated for you.

What he did not expect was to end up here, in the depths of the ocean in the most uninhabitable part of the earth, trying to pull you out of the cold, unrelenting sea.

Hoshi realises in that moment that this might ruin him, the possibility of breaking the surface without you.

He decides that if the heavens do not let him find you, he would simply drown in the same waters that gave him purpose, and find peace with the idea that he would lay rest in the same waters as the person who might have given him something more.

Kwon Soonyoung, the deadliest pirate to cleave the seas, was in love with you. A princess, so undeserving of a man like him; a bastard, a rogue, a good for nothing criminal.

And when he spots the all too familiar build of your form, the linen shirt under the corset he had tied for you just hours ago, the dark brown trousers that signified the change he’d brought into your life, he swore to leave everything he’d ever known to thank the skies and seas for bringing him to you.

His burning lungs, screaming and searing for air, grabbing for your suspended arm that looked as defeated as your closed eyes. Tugging you towards him, he wraps his arm around you to press you to him as tight as he could.

Relief. And with the warm sting in his eyes that he doubted was from the salt in the water, he’s sure of everything he’s felt with the feeling of you in his arms.

With the bruising on your neck, the bleeding wound in your father’s shoulder, he finds it within his breaking body to begin kicking upwards.

Every limb, every cell, every hint of life in his body shrieked with its efforts to make him stop. There was no air in his lungs and he’d lost track of time in his search for you, he doesn’t know how long he has.

But if the blots of nothingness in his eyes were anything to go with, he doesn’t presume he has much. In a last ditch effort, he attempts to kick his boots off to weigh him down a little less, holding your dead weight tighter than anything.

He was so close, he could feel the warmth of the upper levels of the water change in its temperature on his skin. The glow was near blinding as the orange refracted on the disrupted surface of the ocean, so close yet so far.

Inch by inch, kick by kick, memory by memory, he does everything left in his drained power to touch the surface.

And he does, breaking out hand first into the burning air of the world above, taking the longest gasp of air he ever has in his life. Once he’s sure he knows where he is, he pushes you up further on his chest, your head resting against his collarbone, still unconscious.

“Stay with me, princess,” he pants into your ear, hoping you could hear. “I’ve got you.”

Chan and Mingyu are in the water beside him, pushing him towards the pulley that awaited them.

Mingyu makes an attempt to take your weight of his already struggling captain, but Hoshi finds himself holding on to you tighter, simply urging him to help him back on the deck.

The minute your head hits the wood of the deck, he’s checking your pulse. There’s no regard for the chaos that ensues around Tigress, both him and his crew too preoccupied with the way you were not breathing.

“I–I can’t feel anything,” he stutters his words as Seungkwan places a less panicked hand at your neck, under your nose.

“It’s weak, she’s taken in too much water.”

In an instant, he reaches for his knife at his hip, only to realise it was gone, lost somewhere in his rescue.

“Knife,” he rasps before repeating louder. “Someone give me a knife!”

The minute a hilt is in his hands, he’s pushing you over, to reach the back of your constricting corset, pushing his knife into the complicated sailing knot he’d tied it into before, breaking it free. With both hands, he takes hold of the top of the corset and rips it clean in half.

Turning you back over, he presses his hands over your clothed stomach, pushing into it with all his strength in an attempt to get the water out of your system. He keeps his eyes on your face, and when he sees no sign of you coming round, he feels another set of hands pushing him off.

Seungkwan takes over for his weakened captain, pushing into your stomach harder, attempting to get a break out of you.

“Why isn’t she coming around, what’s going on?” He throws the question aimlessly as he takes your unmoving face in his hands, trembling from everything.

Only a moment later, he hears the glorious sound of you sputtering like something was stuck in your throat, promptly spilling out an ungodly amount of water onto the deck as you retch loudly.

Sitting up from the force, your hands clamp onto the deck as you cough and heave, Hoshi’s hand coming behind you to thump your back hard, pushing you to throw up any remaining seawater from your body.

The sight of your back moving up and down, the audible sound of you taking in air; it was enough for Hoshi to simply lay on the deck and pass out.

You rear your head and look up at him, both of you still breathing heavily.

“You’re okay,” he assures, gulping. He takes your face in hands cupping it very gently as he speaks to you. “Go with Seungkwan, you’re okay, you’re safe.”

Nodding, you let yourself be helped up by the rest of the crew, watching as you’re led to the lower decks of the ship.

“Open your shirt, let me see the wound,” Mingyu says, and Hoshi doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Looking down, he sees his shirt soaked in red, sticking to a wound on the right side of his torso. He didn’t even know where he got it.

It looks like a shallow gash, but enough to leave a scar. He takes it better to have it tended to while he was still high on adrenaline and he couldn’t feel much of the pain.

By the time Mingyu and Minghao are done cleaning him up and Hoshi’s standing upright with wobbly legs, he finds the two burning ships beyond his own mere floating structures of wood that were in slow flame. There’s too much debris, too many bits of everything that bob in the large expanse of water to make out any bodies.

“There’s nobody,” Mingyu tells him. “Most of them were in lower decks when it all went down. Trapped themselves.”

“And…?” he asks in silence.

“He stayed on the deck until it sank,” Minghao informs. “Yelling about how he…about how he should’ve finished her when he had the chance.”

“Horrible king and somehow an even worse father,” Mingyu scoffs. “Made it better to watch him die.”

“He didn’t suffer enough,” Hoshi croaks as the marks on your throat dot his vision.

Just then, floating in the water, illuminated by the final streaks of setting light, Hoshi sees it. A darkened purple cloth right next to the hull.

“That,” he points out. “Get that out of the water.”

The late king’s purple cape laid on the deck of Tigress, darkened with water, but also with his blood.

To the Kingdom, this cape would be the last piece of their King that was gone too soon. But for every person on this ship, it would forever be their spoils of war.

Hoshi makes sure the cape will be dried and stored, ordering his crew to begin their slow journey out of the Green Islands, before he too crumples onto the deck unconscious.

IT WAS A SPECTACLE to see Hoshi in his element.

Something about how he seemed to beam, like this ship was charging him a different kind of energy. It was infectious, the rest of the ship decreasingly sour as they put on musical performances on the main deck while they cleaned the floors.

As relieved as you felt, the tight ball of anxiety refused to leave the pit of your stomach as you grew closer to the Kingdom. Nothing could prepare you for the shitstorm you’d have to deal with the moment you’d step onto the soil off a pirate ship of all things—let alone as Queen.

The first few days following the ship's exit from the Green Islands were difficult, if that was all you had to describe it. You took to your hammock for most of the day, curled up as you pretended to sleep, only waking up when one of the crew would come down to force feed you and to make sure you hadn’t died.

You knew they were doing all this to make you feel better, and somehow it was working. More than halfway through your journey, you began to feel more like yourself, emerging from your cave to visit the deck on times other than the nights.

Even now, as you sit on the floor of the deck with Seungkwan, who hands you an all too familiar stack of parchment, you feel nothing as you take them into your hands. As you read his handwriting scrawled in ink, you appreciate your past self for having the sense to keep them all.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better now,” he says to you. “Had us worried for a while there.”

“Sorry.” You smile weakly. “But thank you for…everything. I don’t think I could ever express how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. All of you.”

“I’d like to think we’ve gone past the status of mere business partners,” Seungkwan chuckles. “Lion befriends the bear? Whatever it is. But know we’d do it again.”

Blinking back the sting of tears and doing your very best to not let the warm feeling in your chest overwhelm you, you place the letters on the floor next to your folded legs. When you look up, Seungkwan's eyes are on your neck.

“They’re taking their time to fade, aren’t they?” you say.

Seungkwan has a hard look in his eye, “I guess you didn’t need your letters to remind you of anything after all.”

Your mind wanders, drifting past how easily this crew could have been forgotten in the unforgiving elements. Perhaps you would have let the man that wrapped his hands around your neck finish his job.

“Was getting captured part of your grand plan?” you ask Seungkwan.

“Hm?” It takes a moment to realise what you may be questioning him about, smiling slightly. “What makes you think we went in with a plan?”

“I thought I asked you to man the wheel?” Hoshi stands above the both of you.

“Not to batten down the hatches,” he side-eyed his captain. “Clear waters ahead, the wheel does not need manning.”

You zone out as they squabble over nothing, not finding the heart to be entertained by their back and forth. Seungkwan either loses or forfeits, because you feel him rise from next to you, only for his captain to take his place.

“What are you thinking about?” Hoshi asks.

“Everything,” you sigh.

“How come Seungkwan gets a thank you for your service and I don’t? Need I remind you who jumped for you and who didn’t?”

Rolling your eyes, you answer him, “Thank you, Captain Hoshi Kwon, I am forever indebted to your service.”

He chuckles in exaggeration, “Oh please, all in a day's work.”

“I mean it.”

“Hm?”

“I never did say thank you. But you did jump for me when you didn’t have to.”

“Who said I didn’t have to?”

“Our deal was done.”

“Of course not,” he scoffs. “Our deal was to get you out when you jumped. I merely honoured that promise!”

“Merely?” you raise a brow. “Was it all merely a matter of conscience?”

His gaze locks with yours. “Don’t ask questions you know the answers for. I would’ve jumped even if you asked me to rope myself to the mast.”

“Please. I have enough blood on my hands and I haven’t even sat on my throne yet.”

“Blood is only on your hands if you tell a soul of what you’ve done,” Hoshi utters. “You’re the only living soul who knows.”

“And you are…?”

“Pirate. Our word means nothing.” Hoshi smiles.

The thought hangs in the air as you take in the man in front of you. He’s changed an era’s worth, yet all the same. His hair is longer, going from his initial shorter crop to curling around his ears, shielding his eyes. It makes him look younger, like a boy with much to live for.

That, and the multitude of notable scars he’s added to his collection, many of which have somehow been because of you. The wound at his torso is doing better, but far to go in its quest to heal.

Hoshi senses something amiss even after his sermon. Breaking his gaze, he turns to look straight ahead at the raised bow of the ship instead.

“Do you know how I got my splendid reputation for being the filthiest pirate on the seas?”

You can only stare, “I have a few guesses.”

He chortles, “Other than my criminal status.”

“Tell me.”

“Unnamed sailors have the odds of a peanut facing its inevitable fate of being crushed under a straggling boot. Pirates don’t see the government as their enemy when they’re own supposed brothers are more likely to jam a cannon in their mouths.”

He lets out a heavy sigh before continuing, “My mistake wasn’t that I was on the losing side in my early days, but more about how I was leaving nothing behind when I was done.”

“How humble,” you hum.

“Dead men tell no tales. When it’s worth it, it might be better to leave a straggler or two to live to tell the tale. A routine stab in the jugular can turn you into somewhat of a myth.”

“Am I a survivor?” you question.

“You may be sovereign on land, but you’re also an unnamed pirate,” he responds, turning back to lock eyes with you. “And you’ve left nobody to tell the tale.”

No one listens to a pirate, and everyone listens to a Queen.

“This isn’t to say there won’t be a legend that follows you.” He quirks a brow as he speaks. “Shows up and claims her father and his entire ship and crew sank at sea, only to befriend his sworn enemies in the aftermath. And then it evolves; she sent a cannon through her fathers ship, he died at the end of his own daughter's sword, she cursed him to captain a crew of the undead for eternity.”

“Have I planted the seeds for yet another ghost story?” It’s difficult to not giggle at the thought, despite how morbid.

“You’ve given yourself substance,” he says, a little stronger than before. His eyes too, wander to your neck and the bruises that refuse to budge. “Beyond just a royal or even a pirate. You did it for your honour as a human being, and that may be braver than anything I have ever conquered.”

In your anxiety ridden, feeble mind, your thoughts had convinced your conscience that everything would be over the minute your father’s heart stopped beating. That it would bring you peace at last.

And it did, especially when it felt like you’d gotten rid of this constant monster under the bed that had followed you far into adulthood. But from the bleeding heart of the creature emerged yet another one of its brethren, and then another and then another.

Smaller albeit, but monsters nonetheless. Problems nonetheless.

Weeks of this, and in one short interaction, Hoshi seemed to have given you the key to turn this monster into a pet.

On instinct, you feel your hand reach up, brushing against the skin of his cheek. It’s an all too familiar setting, seated on the deck of a ship too close for anybody but yours’ comfort. But without the rum and resentment, of course. And how you doubt he’d pull away this time.

Very lightly, you brush your lips against his. It was nothing but to simply feel him again, to feel a semblance of familiarity.

You feel him take your hand that rests on his cheek to place a kiss on your palm, nuzzling his nose into the concave of your hand.

Everything that was to come seemed a little more possible in that very moment.

Even more so when his fingers found the sensitive areas of your coloured throat, when his lips closed against your jaw, only to trail lower and to press into the marks his fingers continue to trail tucked into your neck.

That night, when slipping into your hammock felt like the most unbearable prospect in your near future, it couldn’t possibly be worse than uttering your next question to the man that seems to fix it all.

“Will you stay with me?”

With nothing but the light snores of the rest of the crew and the creaking of the ship, both you and Soonyoung laid in a hammock most definitely not meant for two. Head on his chest, ear pressed against where his heart beats under his scar, it’s bliss.

The feeling of his warm body against yours and the scent of him settling in your lungs, you decide that this was enough. At least for now.

IT WAS DIFFICULT TO give yourself the full list for obvious reasons, but it does seem to help when you tick off all the possible reasons why your patience has run as thin as it has.

Sitting at the decorated seat at the convened court of old men appointed by your father, you briefly wonder if you should finish them off too amidst your flash of anger. The men continue to squabble and babble about the next course of action, slamming their wrinkled hands on the pristine table and sending their own daggers of threats to the other inhabitants of the table.

“If you’d like to send a search party for the King’s body, be my guest,” you finally speak, having had quite enough when the throb in your temple worsens. “But remind me what troops you’ll be sending to the North if your best men will be gone for months attempting to find a body they never will.”

The dispute in the North side of the Kingdom was taking up most of the conversation anyway, and you doubt they’d put customary burial rites over their own glory of victory the North would bring.

“Your Majesty—”

“I would happily jump on the next search ship for my father,” you lie through your teeth. “But I watched him drown in front of my own two eyes, and as the next sovereign I cannot let you waste our resources for something that will both risk our soldier’s lives and have them come back home empty handed.”

Perhaps you had come off slightly more heartless than you intended, so you quickly add, “Please, let my father rest in peace.”

That seems to end the conversation easier than you had expected, but they’re quick to jump to the next issue not long after.

“The court would also like to bring light upon the palace guests.”

Tightening your jaw, you slump against your seat slightly. “What about them?”

They remain silent as their mouthpiece attempts to form the right words for the following question, mostly because you’ve addressed this multiple times beforehand but they continue to sit restless.

“Allow me to help you, Lord Bridge,” you sit up straighter, intending to put this matter to rest. “My guests will remain here for as long as they do, and if you have any more arising issues towards my guests I will only take it as your collective issues towards me.”

In the moment of silence, you continue, “The Kingdom is in a place of instability as we are all well aware. I find it most appalling that you remain fixated on trivial matters of the palace’s domestic code of conduct than you do for the wellbeing of this country!”

Silence yet again as you wait for their forcibly rehearsed chorus of apologies.

“Our greatest apologies, your Majesty.”

The pain in your temples becomes near unbearable as you dismiss the table after that, screeching your chair as you push it back as loud as you possibly can to do nothing but spite the men.

Turning the corner out of the room, you catch the open gates that lead to the paved gardens outside, the sun seeping into the marble floors indoors. Taking an instinctive step towards the gardens, you find most of the crew sprawled onto the grass as they soak in the sun.

Chan and Seungkwan look like they’re wrestling, their laughter ringing throughout the open court while their captain snaps at them to cut it out, only to get roped under one of their headlocks all the same.

There’s a call of your name and a giant wave from Mingyu, who spots you from beyond the flower beds. Still leaning against the gates, you smile and wave back.

Years the halls of the palace had gone, never hearing laughter in its walls. And something about watching them let themselves ruin the petunias and laugh so loud it echoes, heals you just a bit.

Even that night, when you find yourself in your giant four poster bed you’ve slept in since you were a child, this time dozing under the arm of another, you feel the itch of a healing wound somewhere in your heart.

Soonyoung laid with you for every night on the ship since that night, and stayed even here where the space was big enough to host the ghosts of your worries if not distracted.

He had found you on that first night in the palace still awake, haunting the library fireplace with another stack of papers to keep you company.

“Can’t sleep?” he’d asked as he picked up some of your documents.

“Clearly not,” you huff. The papers were mere decorations as you attempted to find an excuse to leave your rooms.

“You realise you won’t be much of an effective monarch if you exhaust yourself to death?”

There was no answer to that, especially when you were absorbing nothing of your new duties. You’d expected to fall asleep on the armrest of the uncomfortable settee whenever it was that you exhausted your brain of thoughts, even then refusing to sleep in that large bed.

He’s awfully persuasive, because as he tucks you into those very sheets, about to leave but not before placing a kiss on your forehead You stop him.

“Stay. Please.”

True as he has always been, he does.

THE CROWN IS HEAVIER than you had expected, even more so when it remains on your head for longer than your previously practised sessions walking around the throne room. The crew was exceptionally good at giving you things to train with, including fraudulent rodent scares to ensure the crown would not topple from your own head the minute you rise from your coronation.

And now, as you finally remove the decorative piece from your head after your actual coronation to replace it with something lighter for the following ball, you find relief in the fact that you’d only ever have to wear the actual thing only a few times in your life.

Everything moves as smoothly as it could, the decorated pirates that saved their Queen from a horrid shipwreck taking up most of the attendees attention as they either question inquisitively or send snarky remarks to the men who are well versed in how to rebut in true informal manner.

The past months had taken up more of your time than you had anticipated, and during the latter half of the still twinkling party, you attempted to spot the person you’ve been trying to corner all night.

Soonyoung stands at the edges of the gathering, empty handed as you watch him reject yet another offer for a drink from the trays that float about. His attire is the most formal you had ever seen, his face scrubbed and hair pushed back for the glorious occasion.

Approaching him from the sidelines, you take hold of his wrists and pull him towards one of the many doors in the ballroom and into a hallway you knew for a fact was rarely ever frequented.

“I feel I haven’t seen you ages,” you say once you’re sure you’re alone.

“Probably best for you to keep busy,” he replies with the smallest smile.

“Have the wrappings on your wound come off?”

Looking at his covered torso, he runs an instinctive hand over where the wound was. “Just a smaller patch now, but it’s nearly there. Disappointed it won’t scar too much.”

“Disappointed?”

“These are my spoils of war, miss princess,” he adds with a smirk, before correcting himself. “Ah, miss queen?”

“Doesn’t have the same ring,” you comment.

“The crown suits you.” His voice is soft and sincere.

Scoffing a little, you answer, “I would hope it did.”

“Although, I do prefer you in trousers and a knife.”

Laughing, you can only agree. Especially in your heavier than yourself dress and jewels. “I think I prefer them too.”

At the mention of your new status, he asks, “Shouldn’t you be milling between your new subjects?”

Keeping your eyes on his face, you wait until he meets your gaze. “I have more important things to attend to.”

He breaks eye contact first, and you can feel the distance grow further. One reach and you could take his hand in yours.

But you don’t.

“I know I’ve been quite busy, but…” you trail off as you attempt to find the words. “Is something the matter? What’s going on?”

With a long sigh, he runs a hand through his kept hair, effectively tousling it a little. “I was going to wait until after the ball to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

He makes no moves to look at you when he utters his next words. “The crew and I will be leaving at dawn tomorrow. We’ve taken up enough of your space and it’s best if we don’t intrude any further.”

It’s like you’ve taken a blow to the chest, the air knocked out of your lungs as you register what he’s just said. “You’re….you’re leaving?”

“I would think we’ve both gotten what we wanted. We had a deal.”

Deal? Why was he mentioning that now?

“Are you going to abandon me too?”

His head snaps up to finally meet your eye, mouth opening closing as words betray him.

“What happened to what you said about gaining you? All of you?” There’s a blatant accusation in your words.

“And you have! We’ll visit. Assuming the state doesn’t want my head on a pike anymore,” he chuckles uncomfortably.

In a moment of desperation, you take his hand in both of yours; his scarred, gnarled hands that tell you even in the dark who’s warmth it is that you feel every night next to you.

“Stay. Stay with me, please,” you plead. “I can’t live in this place alone, I despised it when I was young and I’ll only despise it even more now.”

Soonyoung brings his other hand to clasp over both of your own, eyes closing as you hear him take a somewhat shaky breath. “I’m doing this for the both of us.”

“So am I! I can’t possibly rule a kingdom by myself.”

“I’m sure you’ll find someone—”

“I don’t want someone! I want you!”

He begins to whisper your name, moving his face away to blink rapidly.

“How do you feel about becoming a pirate king? I can never forbid you from the waters, that’s your home, and you will have it.”

He does not look at you, but you know he’s listening more intently than ever before.

“But I ask you as someone who loves you more than I have ever anything else, will you stay and marry me?”

Soonyoung falters as he absorbs the fact that you’ve just proposed to him.

“I—” he stutters. “The court—”

“The court wouldn’t dare to deny me the man that saved my life.”

You squeeze his hand tighter, moving impossibly closer.

“And even if they do, I'm ready to fight for the man who fought for me. So answer me as a man and not a pirate, Kwon Soonyoung, will you marry me?”

Soonyoungs mouth enclosing over your own is all the answer you need as you feel him break free of your hands to let them find your waist instead. Amidst the pile of fabric he pushes himself into you as close as possible, letting your hands guide his head to move against your mouth.

It’s everything, as you grip onto the back of his shoulder, pressing unforgettably into his open mouth. He takes in your bottom lip between his own, sucking before letting go, only to engulf your mouth once again.

“We’ll figure it out,” you whisper against his lips, feeling the nuzzle of his nose against the apple of your cheek, hot tears spilling from your eyes. “I promise, we’ll figure everything out.”

He shushes you when he feels you shudder in his hold, pulling away to rest his forehead against yours. “No need to torment your pretty head. Not right now.”

For once, you listen to your pirate captain without a fight, simply feeling the stretch of your lips as he moves down to capture them once more.

The pressure of his hands isn’t nearly as strong as it would’ve felt without the layers upon layers of fabric that cover your form, but standing in this desolate hallway, you swear his fingers might as well be caressing your bare skin underneath.

The thought sends your mind into a dazzling spin, letting go of his mouth with a gasp, suddenly needing to take a step back.

“I have to—I have to go back inside,” you breathe into his slick mouth. “Meet me outside my quarters at midnight.”

As scandalous as it was, you could not deny how alive it made you feel to be like this, meeting in darker corners in the dead of night. But for now, you allow him to fix the bits of your ensemble you could not see. With the bad of his thumb, he blends in the smudges of your rouge, swiping at your lips ever so delicately to ensure he leaves no trace of himself. Tucking the loose strands of hair back behind your ears, and finally, fixing the encrusted crown on your head, a flash of one of the diamond’s gleams reflecting onto his perfect face.

“You’re beautiful.” There’s a dazed look that graces him. “Beyond beautiful.”

With one last innocent press of your smiling mouth onto his, you promise him your midnight.

BY THE TIME IT was finally an appropriate hour for you to excuse yourself for the evening, you were near to exploding entirely.

Whispers of “Are you alright, your Majesty?” plaguing you through your already racing mind. It was beyond difficult to keep the constant shaking of your foot unobvious, however you could not simply up and leave whenever you wanted—at least not yet. The monarch would remain in an unstable authoritative position for quite some time after ascension, and with the unorthodox situation at hand, you assume you’d really have to push yourself if you were to be of any use as sovereign.

But when the time finally came and you were escorted out of the grand ballroom, only mere ticks away from the resounding bells of midnight, you were holding back from breaking into a sprint. Outside your quarters it was empty, but you remain steadfast in your refusal for your ladies in waiting tonight, promising you could dress yourself for bed on your own.

Standing at the double doors of your rooms, still the princess’ quarters as you refuse to move into the Queen’s rooms, you stand waiting. The two guards remain staring straight ahead, and you wait for the clicking of your ladies to go muffled before you ask.

“Has the Captain approached?”

“No, your Majesty.”

You try not to feel disappointed, despite knowing the midnight bells were yet to sound. “If he does, allow him in, please.”

Opening the double doors, you half wish you had let your ladies help you out of the god awful dress, tight and loose in all the wrong places. The jewels are thrown haphazardly on your vanity, needing the heavyweight of them off of your body.

Perhaps months of little to no bedazzling had rendered you incapable of wearing anything mildly less comfortable than linen and leather, but you suppose you’d slip back into the habit just as easily as you slipped out of it. Your nightgown feels like heaven on your tired, tired body, and the dimly lit interior of your bedchamber is only encouraging you to slip under your covers and fall deep into sleep.

That was one thing about the ship you doubt you’d ever miss.

Three rapt knocks outside of the heavy double doors have you sitting rapt at attention, hastily making your way to the door from your vanity. Pressing the front of your nightgown down, you open the door slightly and poke your head out.

Soonyoung stands at the door, nervous of all things, still clad in his full suit. You smile as you let him in, closing the door to turn the lock.

“Your guards mortify me.”

“Oh? So they’re doing their job right?” You walk up to him and grasp onto his lapels, pulling him down to meet the lips you’ve missed so much despite only being hours apart. “Why? Has this big bad pirate found his match in the palace guards of all places?”

“Hmm,” he’s humming against your lips. “I could take them both.”

Giggling like you were in love, you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him close.

“I hope you weren’t bothered too much,” you say. “The aristocracy seem to have being a pain in the ass written in their birthrights.”

“I think they were too scared to approach, probably thought I’d start swearing and snatching the pearls right off their necks. Some of them were bearable, asked me how long my sword was.”

It’s difficult to not laugh at that, “Well?”

He raises his brows unceremoniously, “Won’t you like to know?”

Taking the opportunity while you giggled uncontrollably at the situation, he goes back placing never ending kisses to your mouth. Sighing involuntarily, you melt into him once again, infinitely more relaxed than in the hallway.

Soonyoung’s eyelashes brush against yours in a whisper of their own, only reminding you how close you were to him in the moment. His kisses go from soft and fleeting to something with a little more vigour. The warmth of his mouth goes back to overtaking the lower half of your face, sucking and licking into your mouth like his life depended on it.

If your mind was reeling when his hands were merely ghosts of pressure over your heavy dress, the feeling of his palms and fingers so distinct over your nightgown, the only thing separating you two, is enough to have your knees begin to buckle.

From your waist, they move to your back, before caressing back to the sides of your waist, thumb running in circles. Gentle handfuls of your flesh, bunching and letting go of the material of your nightgown. Very soon, his mouth leaves yours and instead moves to your jaw, the air in the room letting you feel the wetness that he leaves behind as a passionate trail.

He soon reaches the junction of your jaw and neck, leaving a particularly long suck in the area that has a gasp leaving your mouth. Remaining in that area, you feel the pleasant graze of his tongue on your skin, only making you tilt your head farther out to let him carry out his loving.

Your mind wanders back to the hands that grope you in ways that would defame you, the unseemly palms that have you needing to feel him all the same.

With grazing hands, you slip your fingers underneath his jacket, pushing it off one shoulder. He understands the message, flicking it off of his frame before loosening his cravat and throwing it somewhere behind him.

Unlatching from your neck, he comes round to face you to find your face the epitome of disconnected and dazed.

“Can you wait for me on the bed, my love?”

“But—” The thought of him being even an inch away was most aggravating, but he cuts you off before you can refute.

“I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” Soonyoung rests his forehead against your own, taking your hands in his. “I’m right here. I just need to take this awful suit off.”

Your face must have been peculiar because he’s immediately jumping, panicked. “Uh—do you not want me to, we don’t have to, I just thought—”

“No!” you yelp, wide eyed. “I, um, I’ll wait. On the bed, I mean.”

He lets you walk over to the giant four poster bed, pushing the flow of your gown down when you realise how high it had ridden, cheeks burning scarlet at the thought of exposing so much.

Hearing ruffles from behind you, you cannot bring yourself to look back at him, already extremely lightheaded and afraid that the sight might make you faint altogether.

Perhaps you were experiencing a delayed case of sea legs, because it’s more difficult than usual to make yourself comfortable on the soft beddings. You make a futile attempt at slowing your breathing.

By the time Soonyoung is done, meeting you in the middle, you keep your eyes on his face as he’s immediately climbing over to kiss you softly. Hand on the back of your head, he guides you to lay flat, adjacent to the headboard so you’re laying on the breadth of the bed.

He handles you like you were made of glass, and it only makes the strange ache between your legs increasingly present and uncomfortable.

Noting a cool feeling on the base of your throat, you open your eyes and catch the leather cord that dangles from his neck, the letter opener charm that’s attached to the end of it connecting you two as your lips part. Just beyond, through the dip of his collarbones and the valley to his chest, you catch the scar that curls above his heart. Even lower, you find the smaller wrappings of his scarring wound.

You trace over the edges of the new addition, shaking hands as you try your best to not brush over the wound.

On the other side, Soonyoung has his hands on shin as his body hovers over you between your legs. Curling around, he caresses the skin of your bare calf, drifting to the back of your knees. He takes the opportunity to lift your leg, urging you to wrap it around his waist.

The action has gravity doing what it does best, the hem of your nightgown dropping to bunch over the junction of your leg, your entire thigh exposed for the air.

Soonyoung takes no time to let his hands wander higher, taking light handfuls of the flesh of thighs, dragging his grip further and further up.

“Nearly tipped the ship over when I saw you in those fucking trousers,” he says, eyes closed as he drags his mouth over the inner part of your thigh.

The sound that leaves your mouth is breathy, mind preoccupied with how quickly he was making his way towards the apex of your thighs. He’s using his mouth like he used it on your own lips, nipping at the flesh before biting down hard.

“Soonyoung!”

Tongue running over the patch, he sucks on the area to sooth the bite. It’s taking everything out of you to not twitch uncontrollably in his hold, the heat in your core reaching temperatures you’ve never experienced.

Unlatching himself from your thigh, Soonyoung rears his head slightly. The sight has your head rolling back, mind drifting to the face of the man who’d visited you in your dreams, the same man that had now made home between your legs.

Before you realise it, the bunched hem of your nightgown is flown upwards entirely, fluttering as the fabric lands on your stomach.

Your heat is bare underneath, evident with the way Soonyoung keeps his eyes on the now fully exposed part of you. Your chest continues to rise and fall as you lift your head to look at him, eyes half closed and mind muddled.

“What…What’re you doing?”

Soonyoung looks like you’ve disturbed him from a trance, snapping up to look at you as you ask him your question.

It hardly registers in his mind. What was he doing? Was it not obvious—

Ah.

If the mere sight of your bare thighs weren’t enough for him to release his load onto the sheets untouched, your unawareness might just end up doing it for him.

Of course you didn’t know why he was at eye level with your cunt; women from this world were not supposed to know.

The buzz in his mind renders him useless for a few moments as his vision blurs, the pain in his lower region unbearable. The thought of him being the first person to do this to you, to pleasure you like this; he wasn’t sure if he’d make it till the end of the night alive.

Screwing his eyes shut, his palms full of your thighs, he drops his head and counts to ten.

“Will you let me show you how a Queen is meant to be worshipped?”

Wet mouthed and unhinged eyes, your arousal was doing nothing but multiplying at the sight of him.

“Do you trust me?” he asks. “I promise I’ll make you feel good.”

It takes you less than a moment to nod your head, eyes locked with his.

Bringing a hand closer, he dips one finger into the beginnings of your hole. Bringing some of the glisten onto his fingers. Your lips are parted and he brings a second finger to gather your arousal, rubbing over your entrance ever so slowly.

The motion makes you let out a heavy exhale, gripping onto the bunched fabric at your stomach till your knuckles turn white.

With little warning, you feel his fingertips push and drag upwards, right over the sensitive bundle of nerves. Immediately, he’s rubbing your arousal all over the area, rubbing your clit in rhythmic circles with both fingers.

You can’t stop it when you throw your head back and let out a slight whimper, relishing in the feeling that overtakes every last sense and capability, anticipating the next surge of pleasure that courses through your entire body like you've been struck by a bolt of something.

Vision obscured, you loll your head to the side when you feel his fingers retract, confused.

All you catch is the outstretched nature of his tongue, and how it lands directly where his fingers were.

You let out the loudest moan yet, back arching off the bed as he licks a forceful drag up your cunt before moving back down your clit, circling your hole with the tip of his tongue, right before repeating. He flicks your nub right where he’s found you twitch the most, back and forth as your hips begin to fail at your suppressed stutters, his hands needing to pin you down onto the sheets to continue.

He becomes more generous, laying his tongue flat now as he massages your nub so good. Your thighs are closing around his ears and he does nothing to stop you, nearly suffocating between them. Hips going from their stutters to a grind, you find your hands flying to his hair, grip tighter than you thought you’d come down with. It doesn’t help that he’s now taken a finger to circle your entrance while his lips suck on your clit.

“Soonyoung.” It’s all you can say, throat incapable of forcing anything but his name, the burn behind your eyes only making it harder to not say it louder.

When he pushes the finger in, it has you letting out a moan, the foreign feeling against your walls only forcing them to clamp onto his digit. Gradually, you feel his pace quicken as he slides his finger in and out of your hole, his mouth still doing beautiful things to your cunt.

It doesn’t take long for him to shove in another finger, stretching your hole as you let out a constant string of noises through the pleasure, ever-building as every passing moment only scrambles your brain further.

And then you feel him groan, a vibration throbbing through your system.

It’s suddenly all too much, and before you can tell him what’s going on, you’re rendered incapable. You don’t know where your limbs fly, but all you feel is white hot and overwhelming to an unbelievable degree.

“Oh–ungh—” Your body is telling Soonyoung all he needs to know as he only pushes into your pussy even further, letting you ride out your high as you claw at him in every way possible.

Inevitably, the feeling subsides and you realise you’ve been reduced to sobs, tears streaking the sides of your face. Laying flat with your head still on the sheets, you stare at the ceiling of your four poster, trying to remember where you were.

Barely noticing the man that now hover above you, you hear him whisper. “Are you alright?”

Nodding weakly, you don’t even try to lift a finger in the remaining aftermath.

“I need words, my love.”

Swallowing thickly, you give him a breathy, “Yes.”

The lower half of his face glistens in the light like unorthodox diamonds, and all you can think about is how you need him closer to you.

You make an attempt with your nightgown, your trembling arms, still coursing with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

Soonyoung decides to help, hands pushing your spine into an arch as he pulls the slip up and over your head, now entirely bare in front of him.

You watch as instead of throwing the fabric away, he brings it to his mouth to wipe the slick off, tainting the gown with your essence.

Mouth over yours in a salty kiss, you pull him into you as close as humanly possible, needing to feel his heat, his weight, his scent as close as possible. His mouth reaches your throat again, lips brushing over the expanse as he places open mouthed kisses over the nearly faded marks.

His hands are lingering once again as they ghost the sides of your breasts, thumbs coming close to your nipples before retracting in a caress. He takes them in handfuls as he goes back to busy your lips with his own, massaging the mounds with a pressure just enough to have you reeling.

Flicking your nipple lightly, he goes back to circle the bud with thumb again. Making himself further familiar, his fingers begin to pinch and pull at them, pressing down to get a noise out of you, one that you sound as you breathe into his mouth.

Trailing over your stomach, he pushes himself off of you. On his knees, he takes the distance as his chance to look at you in your entirety for the first time. Your fucked out expression and your lack of words is doing nothing but fueling him, your loud breaths somehow more sinful than anything he could ever do to you.

In one swift motion, he’s slipping his arms beneath you, pulling you up so he can lay you against the headboards and pillows. You barely register what’s happening, having given yourself up to him long before.

Grabbing one of the millions of cushions on the bed, he swings one over. Using no strength of your own, he lifts your hips and places it down beneath you, effectively propping you up.

And then he’s meeting you at eye level, hands cupping your face. “I need you to listen to me, darling.”

He waits for confirmation, of which you can only nod, still seeing mild stars. “Do you want to stop?”

It's a visceral reaction; the violent shaking of your head, the hand that flies to his bicep. “N–no!”

You pause as he grips onto your upper arms tight, right as you continue. “I just—a moment. Don’t stop, please.”

Leaning down, he places a long kiss on the corner of your mouth before moving his head to fit into the crook of your neck. He nuzzles his nose against the skin below your ear.

“I’m right here,” he whispers. “For as long as you want me.”

His kisses go from desperate to something with a little more intent, pressing his lips into your neck consistently. Oh so gently, it begins to feel like a draught. He turns into calm just as he could become chaos, bringing you down from the after effects of his own actions.

The hum that leaves you is unthinking, fingers remaining deep in the roots of his hair. Your own nose is pressed against his hair, his scent mixed with sweat infiltrating your nostrils. It fills your head with a pleasant buzz, one that you feel force a pull at the corners of your mouth.

“I meant it when I said it,” you murmur into his hair. “I don’t want anyone but you.”

Raising his head, he meets your eye, smiling slightly. “I believe you. Forgive me for making you believe I was trying to leave you.”

“You weren’t?”

He presses his lips into a line, exhaling as he drops his chin to his chest. “I’ve needed to be selfish my whole life just to survive. Leaving…I wasn’t sure how I would’ve gotten on that boat in the morning without taking you with me somehow.”

Moving back to look at you, you realise very quickly there’s more to the mere glassy look in his eye. “For once, I wished to be anything but a pirate, to be anywhere but near the sea. Not when you wouldn’t be there with me.”

Taking one of his beautifully decorated hands to your mouth, you kiss the soft of his palm. “You’ve done more than anyone ever has to protect me.”

You laugh against his hand, “This is my turf, captain. Let me protect you… protect us.”

Something injects you with a dose of bold, and you find yourself wrapping your arms around his raised shoulders. “But…I believe we were in the middle of something. I’d hate to ruin the mood.”

The smirk that graces his lips is immediate, pushing you back down onto the sheets as you let a laugh escape you.

And then you feel something warm graze your bottom lip, pointed in the way it pushes inwards. He’s brought the glinting letter opener charm up to your lips, the trinket pinched between his fingers as he continues to keep it on your mouth. He kisses you deep as the metal remains between you two, your hands run across the expanse of his back, feeling the muscles ripple as he props himself between you.

“I love you,” he cuts between the kiss to groan, the charm dropping from between your mouths to your chest.

“I love you, mmh—” His fingers have found your clit mid confession, rubbing quickly as he attempts to get you all hot and withered again.

Your legs raise on instinct, back arching as he rubs you mercilessly, the pressure building quicker than it had before.

“I–I think—” you start to tell him, and it seems it’s all he needs to remove his fingers entirely.

“Soonyoung!” you yelp, landing on the bed with a thud.

Looking down, you find his hands wrapped around the length between his own legs, and you realise this was your first time seeing it. Past the white-oozing slit, his tip is a painful looking red. If his hands weren’t already pumping and he hadn’t already lined himself up to your hole, you would’ve taken him into your own palms, done exactly with your mouth that he’d done with his own.

But you can’t find it within yourself to stop him when you feel the initial push of his bulbous tip against your hole, the stretch causing you to drop your mouth open.

“Fuck,” you hear him curse, and when you look up you find his own eyes screwed shut. His hands grip the plush of the pillow beside your head as tight as ever, face askew like he was holding himself back from combusting entirely.

Slowly, you feel the stretch turn into something akin to a burn, a sting in the back of your eyes. You let him push himself into you at his own pace, the never ending battle between your mind and your refrained hips ever present as you attempt to keep them at bay.

He keeps his pelvis flush against yours ince he’s sheathed himself inside you entirely. BOth of your pants fill the thick air of the room, the throb of your walls around his shaft leaving a tremble in his forearm despite your forsake.

Hand somewhere above your head, you feel Soonyoung pull out ever so slightly before pushing back in. Just like this, in shallow thrusts, he pumps himself in an out of your walls in a slow pattern.

It begins with a simmering tremble of pleasure that prolongs as he drags his cock in and out, and then in and out, and then—

Your eyes fly open when you feel his hips slam against yours with a resounding sound, fingers gripping his arm as he does it again, your moans penetrating the air. Before you know it, he’s hiked your legs up to wrap around his waist, ankles locking as he goes back to snapping his hips into you.

“Oh, Soonyoung.”

Your nails are digging into his bicep like it was the only thing tying you to this earth, the only thing keeping you from passing out entirely. He’s taken up a brutal pace, pistoning into your clamped walls with a vigour unmatched.

All Soonyoung can hear is the stretch of your moans and groans directly in his ear, the obscene squelch of both of your fluids mixing at your middles. Your hands have migrated to his back, clawing at the skin like you’ve been utterly possessed.

He can’t seem to mind, not when they’ll simply become reopening wounds every time he’ll have you like this, all to himself and no one else. He wonders vaguely if your guards outside can hear the way you’re losing yourself in him just as he is in you, wonders if it appalls them that a filthy pirate gets to have their Queen in his arms as her vindictive pleasure.

One hand rubbing over your slick clit, he pulls back to sit on his heels, the angle allowing him to keep ever part of you occupied, his spare hand coming up to toy with the pillow of your breast.

It’s all too much, for the both of you as your collective noises become increasingly frequent and high pitched.

And then he’s pushed you over the edge, the shake of your thighs electrifying as you nearly scream out in the bliss of your high. Hands moving every which way to find a grip as you let the feeling crash into you over and over again.

“Oh, that’s so good, so good, oh my goodness.”

You’re still in the middle of your climax when Soonyoung can’t take it anymore, letting himself release his load inside of you like a mark. It’s a mess of force and pleasure as the both of you lose sight of your strengths and weaknesses, the feeling of his hot cum shooting into your walls only prolonging your orgasm even further.

He continues to thrust, continues to play with your nub, continues to flick at your nipples despite the orgasm subsiding. It’s all suddenly too much all at once, the sharp jerk of your body and your voice asking him to stop.

“Soon—Soonyoung, it’s too much.”

Hands coming to a halt and his thrusts slowing, you feel him ease himself out of you.

It’s a sight Soonyoung doubts he could ever forget even if he tried, your still pulsating walls doing everything but keeping the milky white of his load inside you, globs of the liquid spilling out as you shudder near lifeless on the bed. His hands grope at the inside of your thighs, pulling your lips apart to take in the mess he’s made.

He can’t help himself when he pushes two fingers into your hole, feeding his cum back into your hole right where it belongs.

You’ve only barely started to come round when he meets you at eye level, plopping next to you on the bed.

“Hi,” he grins.

“Hi,” you breathe back, hands coming up to touch his face.

He lets you breathe for a few moments as he finds himself getting off the bed to find your tainted nightgown, moving back to you to spread your legs and wipe you clean as best as he could.

You find it within yourself to allow him to pull you into a sitting position, a cup of water from the nightstand pressing against your tired mouth.

“Come on, just one,” he urges as you slump against his chest.

You take a few sips as he coaxes you into drinking the full cup and half of the second helping.

He gives up as he holds you against his chest, brushing his fingers through your tangled hair to push past your face.

“Are you alright?” he asks you. Your eyes are closed when he leans down to place a peck on the apple of your cheek.

“Mhm,” you muffle. “Want to sleep.

“I’d let you, but…”

“Soonyoung, I can’t go again,” you whine.

He chuckles, “I meant to ask where we could find some sugar around here. You barely ate anything at the ball.”

“The kitchens?” you answer with a floating question mark.

Soonyoung can’t help it when he squeezes you so tight it has you complaining loudly, not being able to sustain the love just in the tiny expanse of his heart.

“Come on, let’s get you some cake before both our hearts give out.”

BUNDLED UP IN WARMER clothes, the only thing the palace walls hear is the tiny whispers and giggles of you and your lover as you make your way to the kitchens.

It’s empty at this time of night, the dying embers of the fireplace the only source of light. Soonyoung uses every last bit of his thievery to manage to find a basket of dough balls, the syrup more readily available at the table in the centre.

The tingling in your brain can’t seem to decipher the overwhelming happiness that floods you from the ends of your hair to the tips of your toes. Especially when you call out his name amidst his shuffling, your heart can’t take the grin on his face as he hurries to join on the floor in front of the fireplace.

Arm looped through his own and your head on his shoulder, you decide you’d be quite okay dying like this.

The dough balls are cold and the syrup is probably a little too sweet, but you can’t possibly complain when it warms you just the same.

“I’ve despised my name my entire life,” Soonyoung starts in the silence, picking at the insides of his treat. “Some old merchant sailor was giving his ship away in exchange that the taker would take care of it. He’d built his Tigress from the first board to the last sail, but the years had made their mark. It was practically falling apart when I took it off his hands.”

He pushes the remaining bit of the pastry into his mouth, muffled as he continues, “He had a strange name, said it was given to him by his crew when they realised he was born without a name. Hoshi. I liked it well enough so I kept it.”

“Soonyoung—”

“That one. I wanted to replace the name I loathed, the one my own mother gave me.” You watch as his throat bobs as he swallows. “Ash is my birthplace, my mother worked in the brothels where I was born only because she couldn’t get rid of me.”

Taking one of the hands that wrap around his arm, he brings your fingers to your mouth, kissing the tips of each one. “I despised that name, until I heard it from your lips.”

“Soonyoung.” It felt right on your tongue, like you were destined to say his name.

“Yes, my love?” He smiles softly.

“I love you.”

“I love you more,” he says as he kisses you again. “Thank you for keeping my name, thank you for giving it life.”

You take the opportunity to grab one of the syrup soaked dough balls from the basket and stuff them into his mouth. “Enough, don’t tell me all this luxury’s made you soft.”

It was a jab but a lighthearted one in any case, you loved to see this side of him and you doubt you would ever get enough of seeing him like this. Vulnerable with his softer smiles and squinted eyes.

Bringing one of your digits to your mouth, you suck the remaining syrup off your fingers.

Soonyoung is quick to take notice as he takes your hand and brings your fingers up to his mouth, running his tongue over the pads of your fingers to take in the remaining sugar left on your fingers.

He keeps his eyes locked onto yours as he sucks on the tips of your fingers, making sure every last hint of sweetness is gone.

And then he’s kissing you, tongue in your mouth as he moves against your lips slowly.

Breaking apart, you whisper, “As much as I’d love to, the bakers will be coming in any minute now.”

Soonyoung’s grin is dangerous, and you find out why the minute you feel his arms loop around your waist and under your thighs, lifting you clean off the floor of the kitchens.

You squeal before you can help it, his lips finding home in your neck as you laugh as loud as your chest would allow.

You could get used to this. And you will.

THE SERVANTS CARRYING THE giant stack of plates nearly topple over when you sprint past them, yelling a loud apology over your shoulder as you do nothing but hasten your pace.

The paper in your hands is clutched tight in your fists as you run to where your carriage awaits, near yelling at the driver to make it to the docks before the streets would be full of the early morning merchants and bakers, slowing the gallops of the decorated horses.

The town is waking as your carriage races past, the beginnings of the new day making itself known as the sun peers through the gaps of the houses. You’re incapable of sitting still, your heels tapping against the floors of your cabin incessantly as the docks grow nearer and nearer.

And then you see it, the rush of dock handlers that see the royal carriage slow to a stop in front of the boardwalk. You slam the door open before any of the tens could do it for you, breaking into a sprint as you find the distinct flag of the royal crest wave high on the other end of the docks.

You had already seen Soonyoung off in the dark of the night as he made his way to the ship that was near ready to depart as you slide to stop in front of the anchored ship.

There was nothing sane about what you were doing, the chortles and shocked noises of sailors and merchants deaf to ears as you finally spot him near the prow.

His eyes meet yours and he has to do a double take.

Panting and needing to hold onto your knees for support, you peer up as you watch him run towards the ramp that leads down to the docks to see you, to ask why you were here when he’d kissed you goodbye mere hours ago.

By the time he meets you at the wobbly boardwalk, you’ve somewhat recovered.

“Are you alright?” he asks you as soon as you’re within earshot, hands grasping onto your upper arms in evident concern.

“I had to tell you, this came in right after you left.” You brandish the paper clutched into your fist, smoothing it over as the light catches the red stamp at the bottom.

It takes him less than a minute to realise what it said, eyes blinking rapidly and mouth gaping like a fish. “They…They said yes?”

“They said yes,” you repeat, nodding furiously as you break into a smile. “We can get married, Soonyoung, they said yes.”

His arms are crushing you before you know it, wrapped around you so tight as he buries his face into your neck, repeating it like a mantra, “They said yes…”

By the time you part, he keeps his arms around you, still embracing you in front of the entire port. You take hold of his face bringing it closer to you.

“Three months, and then you come home,” you breathe. “And I get to marry you, in front of everyone.”

Soonyoung lets his lips meet your own in a chaste kiss as he corrects you, “I get to marry you in front of everyone.”

There’s a thud of something nearby, and you look up to find the crew of the Tigress hanging over the railings of the newly appointed naval ship that looked suspiciously like a pirate’s.

“He can’t come back home, if he doesn’t leave!” Seungkwan yells over cupped hands.

You’d like to send him an affectionate gesture involving your middle finger, but choose to save him in front of the crowded port.

“You’ll miss me, Seungkwan, just you wait,” you send him a pointed glare that he simply scoffs at.

He might miss you, but you’ll definitely miss the lot of them when you return to a significantly emptier palace.

“Don’t let the royal snobs walk over you, you’re a better sailor anyway,” you tell Soonyoung. “Not that I needed to tell you, anyway.”

“I promise on our future wedding to be a complete menace.” He grins at the declaration as you admire him in the morning light.

One last time, you memorise the dips and hills of his features, pressing your final kiss into his lips as the voices telling him to hurry it up grow louder.

He blows you a kiss from the railings as the anchor is hoisted, and you send him one right back.

As your carriage trudges its path back to the palace, at a pace more acceptable for both the stamina of the horses and the integrity of the structure, your eyes remain glued to the shrinking ship that fades into the distant horizon.

There’s a pang in your chest, one that brings a tear to your eyes. It’s all very dramatic, the way the melancholy makes a home in your heart. An inkling tells you how you’ll probably become quite used to the feeling, learn to greet it like a friend.

For now you enter the lighter palace, and take your place on the chair in your study and find solace in the ideas your mind brings.

That no matter how long Soonyoung will remain far from you, he will always come back home to you.

Always.

[AN]: ty for joining my babies on their journey, i cannot thank you all enough for reading all 48fuckingK words of this i love you guys truly!!! thank you for all the reblogs and comments on the other parts, it makes me genuinely so happy to see you guys enjoy this universe that i've built. I read every single comment and know i appreciate all of it so so much <3

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503week · 30 days ago

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[Image ID: Illustrated banner featuring Edward Elric and Winry Rockbell from Fullmetal Alchemist. Their wistfully smiling portraits are positioned on either side of the text that reads "503 WEEK May 1 - May 5"]

⚙️💛 503 WEEK IS COMING 💛⚙️

From May 1st to 5th, we’re celebrating the ultimate slow-burn, wrench-throwing, automail-loving ship: Edward Elric x Winry Rockbell 🛠️✨

Whether you’re here for the fluff, the angst, the canon crumbs, or the sweet emotional damage, this is your time to shine. Because nothing says “I love you” like delicate wrench violence and years of unresolved tension. 💥🔧

Artists, writers, meme lords, screamers — everyone’s welcome!

We'll have daily prompts and a whole lot of EdWin feelings. Here’s the lineup:

• May 1 – Altar • May 2 – Ignite • May 3 – Simplicity (or OP's choice) • May 4 – Dreams • May 5 – Ghosts

Use #503Week to tag your posts so we can all cry, scream, and spiral together 💛

Rules and guidelines under the cut ↩️

EdWin is the focus. Other characters can appear, but the main spotlight should stay on Edward and Winry.

Prompts are flexible. Interpret them however you like! Any FMA universe is welcome — manga, anime (03 or Brotherhood), movies, light novels, games, AUs, all fair game.

Late entries? No problem! Life happens. Post when you can — we'll still cheer you on.

Original content only. Fanfiction, fanart, gifs, edits, animatics — yes! But it must be your own work. No AI-generated content, reposts, or stolen works, please.

Keep it SFW. This is a safe-for-work event. NSFW or explicit content won’t be reblogged.

#503week #edwin week #fullmetal alchemist #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #edward x winry #edward elric #winry rockbell #ship week #fma #fmab #fma03

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ancha-aus · 6 months ago

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SansNautica Sneak Peak - The Selkie and the Shiver

here is a tiny drabble from the gangs point of view :3 @0p1er0 because you wanted a tag when i did these lmao

*--------------*

Horror watches as pup looks around anxiously.

Killer looks amused as he circles the cuddlefish “It is okay Crossy! We will find your little friend.”

Cross just looks more stressed “This isn’t funny Killer! He is not a strong swimmer and now everything is even more aggressive with it being their mating season. The reapers normal mating area was ruined by that big ship. They will move more into the shallows to do their own nesting and I don’t want Little Flippers to get caught by surprise by that!” Cross wriggles his hands together as his tentacles lash around anxiously.

Horror goes to his mates side and nuzzles him “We will find him. If he managed to make it this far he will be okay for the day it took for you to get us and for us to start searching.”

Cross looks unsure as he rubs his hands. Horror understands of course. If Cross is right about what he think happened to the other it would bring back a lot of bad and traumatic memories for Cross. Horror is so proud of him for being able to push through all that hurt and be willing to help the other.

Dust yawns as he lounges on a ledge “We can split up. Search the area near the surface. I doubt he will want to go deep if he is a bad swimmer and with fish being more aggressive.”

With the plan laid out they get to work. Horror makes sure to check each cave system. He himself knows better than to go into them but if the other really doesn’t know this planet he may think it is safe and get cornered.

Horror makes sure to keep his eye out. He needs to be alert and-

There!

Horror sees a strange kinda land dweller form shoot out from a cave with a crashfish hot on his trail. Horror rushes over and hits the crashfish with his tail before it can explodes on little flippers.

At least Horror assumes this is him.

Horror nears him but he can see that maybe Little Flipper leans back a bit. Horror watches as the other starts to sink. It is clear the other is cautious about him but Horror thinks this is him.

“Are you okay?” Horror tries as he keeps his distance.

That is when Horror sees pup rush over “You found him! Oh Horror thank you!” he focusses on the other and looks so happy at him. Cross reaches for the other’s head but pulls his ahdns back quickly as he looks slightly embarrassed “Sorry. I just… sorry.”

Little Flipper looks slightly in his direction. Maybe to see if it is really okay? To see if he is really safe? But then he removes the little head part of his skin. Maybe pup had a point with him being a weird selkie of some kind.

Cross looks so happy as he speaks “Oh you are okay! I was so worried. Don’t just swim off okay? I may not look the part but I can protect you just fine.” Little Flipper seems happy with Cross’s happiness as the other seems to laugh soundlessly.

Right… Cross mentioned that Little Flipper may have been forced to adapt to land… leaving him unable to fully communicate in the water.

Horror notices of course when hie other two mates join him. The three of them watch Cross happily interact with the other.

Dust hums and mutters “I can see why Cross calls him Little Flipper. Guy is tiny.”

Killer snorts “For real. He is even tinier than you Dusty.” And he grins as Dust sends him a glare.

Horror just watches their mate interact with his new chosen as Cross starts to nudge and guide Little Flipper towards them. Little Flipper looks at them but looks shocked as his eyes shoot between all three of them. He has very large sockets and his face is very expressive. Maybe this won’t be too hard to manage without communication after all.

There is caution but mostly there is curiosity on his face. He studies their tails and it is clear he is more intrigued than actually worried. Horror also gets why Cross is worried about Little Flippers now. The little guy may not have nay survival instincts after whatever happened to him.

Cross looks so excited “Guys. I assume you figured it out but this is Little Flippers!” he looks so proud of himself.

Dust snorts “We figured. And he is little alright.”

Killer laughs “A little cutie! I can’t believe you were going to keep him hidden.”

Cross sputters “I wasn’t! I was just going to make sure he was a bit more comfortable first.”

Horror hums and shoots Killer a look “Be nice. Don’t be too much.”

Killer pouts but before he can answer Little Flippers raises a hand and gives it a little wave. Very friendly and curious than. Smart enough to figure out he is being introduced and is trying his best to go along with it.

Cross then looks at Little Flippers and waves at the cave. Trying to understand why Little Flipper would risk something like that.

Little Flippers frowns as he seems to think and look around. Probably trying to look for a way to get his own message across. He ends up pointing to some fish stalkers off in the distance doing their complex half fighting half dancing mating ritual before he points at the one of the normal egg nests for some rabbit rays and lastly he points at the cave. Looking very satisfied with himself.

Horror frowns as Killer speaks up with a snort “He can’t possibly be confusing fish mating season with his own? That is so stupid.”

Dust disagrees with a shake of his skull “I don’t think it is stupid. If Cross is right about him still having to learn everything concerning himself. It isn’t weird to look at other sea creatures and just copy what they are doing. To get a general feel for it.”

Cross looks nervous “So he is nesting? Without realising what it means of includes?”

Dust shrugs “Not exactly nesting. He is just imitating the other fish I think. But I am not sure.”

Killer frowns “Then we should stop him right?”

Horror frowns and speaks slowly “No… I don’t think it is a good idea to stop it… He is learning about himself and his instincts. If his instincts are telling him to hide and nest because o the other fish it is best to just let him experience it… And to make sure he doesn’t go anywhere near others who could hurt him while his instincts are fragile and he is learning.”

Cross looks excited “Then we help him! we can find him a safe spot and get him comfortable. Help teach him what to do when he feels this way!”

Killer snorts and looks amused “You just want to sneak in some courting and wooing while you can.” Cross looks embarrassed but doesn’t go against it.

With their plan made they look around thinking and muttering about possible places. It is Dust who reminds them that there are always caves in the kelp forest that aren’t used as the stalkers themselves prefer nests out of the open and nothing goes there as the stalkers are territorial.

Horror watches Killer swim near Little Flippers and touch the thing attached to his back. Little Flippers turns quickly and looks unhappily at Killer.

Cross notices and rushes over “Killer don’t do that! He needs that to swim and he may be hurt!” Killer shurgs with a grin before nuzzling Cross’s chin and circles him as he keeps giving Cross nuzzles. Then Killer makes his circle include Little Flippers and pushes the tiny being near Cross. Cross yelps and quickly snatches him and stabilises him before glaring at Killer “Killer!! What did I just say?!” Cross then is quick to check Little Flippers.

When they are side by side it is so obvious that Little Flipeprs is well... little. His skull is much smaller than Cross’s and the length of his arms are shorter. Horror isn’t sure how big the other’s ribcage is and he doubts he will feel safe enough soon to show his complete landdweller form like other selkies can. But Horror can only guess that if he wear a mer like them he would be at most half of Horror’s size…

Little Flipper looks at Cross and gives him a signal with his hands and a smile. Maybe to show he is fine? He doesn’t seem hurt or bothered. Cross shoots Killer one more warning look but Killer looks smug as he relaxes back.

One of the stalkers growls in the distance and they can see Little Flipper tense up and look around anxious.

Little Flipper pushes off of Cross and uses his shoulders to get higher in the water as the little tool on his back starts working. Dust is luckily fast as he just gets near the other and takes hold of him and tugs him into the kelp forest.

Cross looks panicked but relaxes as soon as he sees that it is Dust who has their little future mate.

They all follow Dust’s lead as Dust knows these areas best from his own exploration. Little Flippers can’t really keep up but that is why they just keep him with them. Easy enough and he seems excited about it as he watches how their tails move and how easily they swim. Horror wonders if the other knows what he misses or what those people have done to him by forcing him to adapt…

Dust finds them a few options and they check them out critically before settling on a bit of a bigger one. Mostly because they need to all fit to be able to work.

Cross finishes his inspection and nods happily. Seems like they found a place that Cross finds up to standards for his little friend. Cross is the one who gets Little Flippers inside. He seems to look around and like it well enough even if he looks a bit unsure.

Well Little Flipper had been nervous in the kelp forest with all the stalkers nearby but they will just have to make sure he knows he is safe. He lets himself sink to the sea floor and stands on his legs.

Cross swims over and smiles “And? Do you think this will work for your nest?” and he waits.

Little Flippers looks around the cave again before giving a tiny sweet smile and nods. Clearly understanding what they had been doing for him or at least getting it enough to accept.

Cross looks so excited and Horror can see he is close to nuzzling Little Flippers before stopping himself. Then he goes to them and nods “Okay! He accepted this place. Lets get to work.”

Killer grins and stretches “I will get some pretty things and some plants to light this place up when it is night. We don’t know his night vision situation.” And he rushes out.

Dust yawns “Will get stuff for nest.” And he gets ready to leave.

Cross shouts after him “Not just metal scrap! Also kelp!” he gets a confirmation back.

Horror smiles at Cross and nuzzles him “I will get food. You get started with the nest and keep Little Flippers company?” Cross looks so relieved and nods.

Horror gives him another nuzzle and swims off. There had been something worrying him. Little Flipper seemed vulnerable and fragile. Just looking at him and Horror got the feeling he could he hurt easily. Which makes him worry about the illness that the visitors from long ago left for them to deal with.

Horror searches the area and sees a peeper with the enzyme trail. He quickly catches it.

They have no idea if he is already sick or ate something that has the sickness. Horror hopes that by giving him these they can at least neutralise it or make it not harm him even if he carries it like all of them. Make sure he is okay.

Horror considers how many to get and decides to just keep catching them when he sees them. In the end he has six and he considers if it is enough.

He doubts it is enough for a long time but it should be enough to give him a bit of a boost and nudge his body and health in the right direction.

Horror decides that for now it is enough. They can always catch more of these for him tomorrow. He turns back around and goes back towards the small hidden cave.

Horror makes sure to only get nearer when he knows he isn’t being followed. No need to stress the little nesting selkie out by bringing aggressive predators near.

He gets into the cave and can’t help but smile. Seems like the others already finished the nest and made sure Little Flippers is comfortable in it.

Little Flippers shoots him a curious look while the others all happily greet him. Dust going as far as to give him a greeting nuzzle.

Killer snorts as he tilts his skull “You were in the mood for peepers today?”

Horror shakes his skull as he answers “It are the once with the golden trail. We don’t know how the illness left by the precursors will affect him. Best to give his body and health a tiny boost just in case.”.

Cross nods as Killer looks at him in awe “I hadn’t even thought about that! Good thinking Horror!”

Horror nods before slowly going close to the nest. Trying to make sure he doesn’t trigger any distressed instinct in the other. But Little Flippers just seems curious and watches him go closer.

Once he is right by the nest he offers him one of the good peepers. Little Flippers looks at it before looking back at him. Waiting.

Killer groans “Why isn’t he taking it?”

Horror watches as Little Flippers starts to watch Killer and he makes sure his voice so soft “Because he isn’t used to this Killer. He is still trying to see what he probably can and can’t eat. Don’t be mean to someone who is trying to learn.” His speaking seemed to have caught Little Flipper’s attention as he watches him again.

Eventually Little Flipper ends up taking the peeper. That is good. That is progress.

Horror slowly shows bringing his hands closer to his teeth and biting down on nothing for him. Showing him to eat it.

Little Flipper pulls a face of disgust and tried to give the peeper back to Horror. Horror just pushes it back to Little Flipper. It is his. But this does reinforce that Little Flipper hasn’t been eating the right food. Horror saw those tiny fangs. Not perfect but very much able to bite through raw meat.

Little Flippers looks at the fish with clear distaste before looking at Cross and offering it to him.

Cross looks thorn as he looks at Horror. Horror shakes his skull. Cross sighs before looking back at Little Flippers and pointing between the food and him. Making it clear it is for him.

He even glances at both Dust and Killer but hey make it obvious with their own staring that they expect him to eat it himself.

Little Flipper keeps looking unhappily at the fish. Turning it this and that way to look at it from different angles. A small annoyed little grumble leaves the tiny guy and Horror can’t help but find it adorable.

Eventually he raises it to his teeth and bites into it. The face of discomfort and disgust turns surprised as the exact thing happens that Horror thought would happen. Him being able to easily take a bite and get a piece of meat of the fish. Still he pulls away from the fish and chews the mouthful. The unhappy look turns more surprised as he chews and shallows.

He blinks a few times before staring at the peeper full of shock.

Yeah… Horror gets it. Eating what your body needs when you haven’t been able for a while is unbelievable good.

Little Flippers looks angerly at the fish and mutters some words as a few bubbles of air leaves him. Clearly displeased by the fact the food turned out to be good and feeling betrayed by this change of events.

Killer and Dust start to laugh and chuckle and Horror shoots him a disapproving look “This isn’t funny. He most likely has had anything yet that his body actually needs. Don’t laugh at him.” which just causes them to laugh more even as Cross looks disapproving at them as well.

Then a peeper hits Killer right in the face. Horror turns and sees Little Flippers looking annoyed at Dust and Killer. His arm outstretch to show he threw the fish at them.

Dust looks dumbfounded before his laughing fit just gets worse. Cross sighs but grabs the peeper and brings it back to Little Flippers. After inspecting it Little Flippers keeps eating his first fish.

Horror smiles as he watches the other “I understand why you did it but please don’t throw your food. You need to energy it gives you.” Little Flippers just shrugs as he keeps slowly nibbling. Little Flippers eats just the meat before he moves to throw the only half eaten peeper off to the side but Horror stops him. Pointing at the fish and back at Little Flippers. The other freezes and Horror points at the uneaten organs. The parts of the fish which holds the most of the deeply needed enzyme that Little Flippers need.

Little Flippers looks horrified and shakes his skull again but Horror just nods. Seems like he was with landdwellers. They always throw away parts of the fish or meal that are just fine to eat. Poor guy hadn’t even been allowed to finish the meals he needed. Little Flippers shakes his skull again.

Horror is thinking about what to do when Killer laughs “Tiny picky eater isn’t he?” and he swims over. Little Flippers glares at Killer and aims the half-eaten peeper. Ready to make good on the threat.

Killer snorts and points to the peeper “It is okay little sweety. Just give me it okay?” and he holds out a hand. Little Flippers watches him before first picking up a rock before giving up his weapon. Horror chuckles as he watches Killer look beyond delighted.

“Oh hell yeah little sweetie is a little spitfire!” He holds up the peeper as Little Flippers starts to aim the rock in warning. Killer waits it out and Little Flipper slowly lowers the rock again. The Killer turns to the peeper and digs lightly around and manages to get the stomach out easily enough. Killer grins and holds it out to Little Flipper. Who looks beyond disgusted and shakes his skull stubbornly.

Killer grins as he inches closer “Oh it is okay sweetie.” He coos as he gets nearer “It will be so good for you.” Little Flippers clearly disagrees as he stares with pure disgust.

Killer keeps cooing and trying to encourage the other to take it. Little Flippers shoots Cross a look and Cross looks so guilty as he points between the stomach, Little Flipper and his teeth. “I know you don’t like the idea buddy… but you really need it.” Little Flipper remains stubborn and shakes his skull again.

Killer frowns as he looks at Cross “I don’t think he will take kindly to me force feeding him. Even if it would be better for him to eat this.”

Cross frowns before smiling “Oh I know!” he rushes over and smiles at Little Flippers as he starts pointing at a few things in quick succession. Little Flipper looks considering as he seems to think it over.

Horror shoots Cross a look “What did you say?”

Cross smiles “He has this tool thing that gives him information. I tried to imply that you guys would be fine with him using it in trade for him eating the meal!” he looks relaxed “It is fine. He already used it on me and it doesn’t hurt or harm us in anyway.”

Little Flipper ends up nodding but looks mad about it. Cross is so excited and clearly can’t stop himself as he nuzzles Little Flippers. His whole being purring as he mutters full of praise “Thank you. You are so good. I am so happy you are willing to eat it.” Little Flipper just looks very confused about the affection given to him.

And isn’t that just a sad thought? That he hadn’t just been starved of food but also basic affection? Dust and Killer both seem to agree with him.

Little Flipper pulls out his little tool as Cross smiles “Okay! lets do this! Just hold out an arm.”

Killer blinks but nods “sure.” He swims over and holds out an arm. Blue light comes from the tool and reflects slightly off the bone. Then Little Flipper looks excited at the screen before tilting his little skull.

Killer grins as he holds out the other hand “Your turn little sweety.”

Little Flippers looks so unhappy about this but takes the little ball of nutrients. Then he just pops it in his mouth with a tense face.

Surprise and annoyance on his face. Much like it went with the fish itself.

Killer looks at him sadly but is met with an angry face on Little Flippers face. Killer gets the message however and backs up even if he keeps frowning. Probably finally starting to realise just how little food Little Flipper must have been getting for him to be this surprised by the most basic food source for them.

Horror keeps his voice soft “Hey… it is okay. ready for your next fish?” and he holds out the next peeper. Little Flippers stares at it but takes it and starts eating without complain.

By the time it gets to the insides Little Flippers pauses before moving towards his little hand fins. He nudges the skin and- huh. He undoes the hands?! Showing normal skeleton hands underneath. He can remove different sections of his skin? Horror is intrigued as Little FLippers lays the skin hands on the side of his newly made nest. Then he starts messing with the peeper until the stomach pops out and he eats it whole this time.

After a bit of signing and pointing they manage to make it obvious the eye and pretty much all of the fish is also fine to eat. They do find out that Little Flipper’s teeth aren’t strong enough to crush the bones to eat as well. Horror hopes that with time he recovers enough to gain that strength.

They keep giving him fish as they all relax as Killer gets them their own meal to eat. Little Flippers doesn’t even seem to realise that he is softly purring as his body gets the badly needed nutrients and energy.

By the time that they managed to get Little Flippers to eat the last fish it is already dark and Little Flippers looks kinda dazed and tired. He probably had been swimming looking for a nesting area for a long time before they found him. Maybe he had even been swimming and searching for a safe spot since Cross saw him last.

A small yawn escapes him and Little Flipper seems annoyed before just giving it up as he starts to mess with the tool stuck on his back and-

A click and it is loose.

No! Little Flippers needs that to swim!

He just looks at them confused with the tool in his hands before pointing at the small clips in his skin. Looking completely integrated and part of it and Horror feels sick in his stomach.

Did those… creatures seriously alter his selkie skin? Not just branding it with their sign was enough but also edited it? Horror is happy none on that ship survived. How dare they hurt Little Flipper so much?

Little Flippers puts it to the side of the nest before rolling up and getting comfortable. Horror can see both Dust and Cross look anxious as the little selkie gets comfortable. He very quickly closes his sockets and is asleep within moments.

Safe and sound. Well-fed and comfortable.

Cross looks anxiously at them “What do you guys think? About… what I thought? Do you think? It is like I thought?”

Dust frowns as he thinks “I am not sure… but it fits. His behaviour how he seems surprised to eat things he likes and are tasty. The way he didn’t seem to understand that we were even building the nest. It does seem like something or someone was keeping him from being allowed to use his instincts.”

Killer crosses his arms “He didn’t even want to eat even when he was clearly hungry… like what must happened to cause that? He didn’t even want to try eating the fish… It is like he enver ate fish before.”

Horror hums “Maybe he just never ate it raw before? I know that Farm used to have to cook and make his food. Process it before he could eat it… maybe whoever had him or where he was treated food like that?” it doesn’t make Horror happy. Because it means he still didn’t get what he needed.

Cross frowns as he rubs his hands “So I was right?” he looks close to an anxiety attack.

Dust is quick as he nuzzles him “We don’t know. And we won’t know until we can ask him. Until then we can help him.” then he looks at Cross teasing “You really just want to keep him don’t you?”

Cross looks beyond embarrassed but nods “I like him a lot…”

Killer snorts “I am down. Little spitfire is cute.” As he lounges not in a hurry.

Horror hums “We can ask Nightmare if he can join the group. Maybe ask him to all for Dream.” As Dream had powers to enable landdwellers to communicate underwater he may be able to help Little Flippers as well.

Cross looks hopeful “Maybe they can do what they did for Farm!”

Killer shrugs “Who knows. We can ask.”

Cross looks a lot more relaxed as he lays close to Horror to snuggle for a moment. They will just remain near the other for now until things are a bit calmer. Then they will go back to Nightmare and discuss what they know and think.

Horror is sure they can get this to work.

*--------*

#Sansnautica #The gang is convinced Sans is an alien selkie who was captured and held captive #nah #sans is just a dude. just a skeleton.#but he has alot of magic and tha tmagic is slowly adapting which keeps surprising/blindsiding sans #as he isn't aware how fast his magic is helping him adapt

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staycalmandhugaclone · 28 days ago

Text

Reprocussions

Part (1) of the next arc of Doc's Misadventures! If you're new, start at the beginning with Touch Starved!

Did the first series of cuts to my taglist - you don't reblog or comment, I don't tag - that's how Tumblr works, my dearies.

Warnings: Emotions. That's a warning in itself. Dread, arguing, guilt, regret, feeling overwhelmed. Also a touch of profanity. Also racism style prejudice. Oh, and some Hunter thirst.

WC: 3,874

Mando’a translation

ori’buyce, kih’kovid – all helmet, no head: someone with and overdeveloped sense of authority

Kamino was, at its core, a failed science experiment; what few inhabitants still clinging to life above tumultuous, unforgiving waves doing so purely from a futile denial of the impending ruination already evident in the violence of the oceans that overtook nearly the entirety of the planet’s stormy surface eons prior. That destruction was predestined; a simple consequence of climate, but what befell those inhabitants in the centuries that followed could be blamed on no one but themselves; driven to the edge of extinction not from natural catastrophe but from some ill-conceived need to eliminate traits arbitrarily deemed undesirable, altering the very code of their existence first through selective breeding, and then through artificial splicing until natural reproduction was not only deemed obsolete in their strive toward perfection, but became biologically impossible.

Perfection is the great myth of social naivety, offering aspirations veiled beneath the façade of a motivation that, in truth, results only in the inevitable collapse of will as goals prove eternally beyond reach. This toxic mentality, however, persists far longer than the spark of brilliance crushed beneath its unreachable expectations, but that illusion of perfection is infectious, destined to poison any subjected to its ideals not only with feelings of crippling inadequacy but also in granting false justification for prejudice against those labeled lesser through simple consequence of genetic expression.

I hated how that mentality had seeped into not only so many of the clones they’d created, but into myself as well, tainted by those beliefs not through direct correlation, but from a nearly equally unjust bias toward the clones themselves. Had I never met Hunter and his brothers, I’m not sure I would ever have truly noticed, but, after living with them and witnessing firsthand the cruelty their squad was subjected to because of it, each reg I saw instantly filled me with a distrust that brought with it a bang of guilt. It wasn’t every reg. I knew that. But it was enough to leave me torn between that guilt and the nagging reminder of just how damaging granting them the benefit of the doubt could be.

It was because of that bias that I refused to leave the medbay of the Vigilance for even a moment; not while Hunter was still bedbound and Crosshair needed to make frequent visits to continue monitoring the progress of his eyes. Admittedly, the term ‘bedbound’ was rather fiercely contested… particularly by Hunter, himself.

“No! You’re on med-leave for at least another week!” I was shouting again. “I don’t care if those orders came from the damn Grand Chancellor, himself!” I’d been doing that a lot lately, whether in response to Hunter’s increasingly frustrated demands to be released or toward the ship’s staff insisting that I let them relieve me for a while. “It’s barely been four kriffing days since you were in hemorrhagic cardiac arrest!” It wasn’t healthy. “You’ve barely even started physical therapy!” I knew it wasn’t healthy.

“Because you won’t let me out of this kriffing bed!” He snarled back.

“Two weeks is the minimum recovery time for an injury like-”

“For a nat-born! Not a clone!” He interrupted. I still couldn’t look at him without seeing how pale his skin had been when I’d found him.

“You died!” The emptiness in those captivating eyes. “I barely managed to bring you back! Any other medic would have given up long before I did!” The terror I felt any time he was out of my sight, that fear that I might miss something critical; I knew it wasn't healthy… but I couldn’t risk seeing him like that again…

“Then get your head out of your shebs before we get do get stuck with some ‘other medic’!” He snapped, and my entire body froze with a sudden chill, muscles locked as the air stilled in my lungs. “You give them reason to think you can’t be objective with us, then there won’t be a damn thing I can say to keep some ori’buyce, kih’kovid from pulling you.” It wasn’t a threat. Despite how his voice dropped into that frightful growl, I knew it wasn’t a threat. He was begging me.

My teeth ground together, nostrils flared with barely controlled, shallow breaths. I said nothing as I turned and left. No words would come to me, nor did I have any confidence in my ability to force them past taut lips even if they did. I told myself it was rage that left my ears ringing, that sent a nauseating tingle dancing beneath my skin and prickling my fingertips, but I knew it was nothing so kind as that, nor so simple.

I thought of that night hidden away with Tech in the cockpit, how he’d teased me for admitting that I had nothing beyond him and his brothers; what that would leave me with if I was ripped away from them. Sick… Maker, I was going to be sick…

Clones did heal faster than nat-borns… but something about forcing them back into a war zone after so little time to recover… It wasn't fair… In so many aspects of life, clones were treated and viewed as lesser; granted fewer rights, spared little consideration for basic needs or comforts, awarded no thought toward self-autonomy… Forcing myself to adhere to those unjust standards ground against the very core of my being… but Hunter was right… If I pushed too far, if I was called out and removed, they'd be subjected to those same rules with far less compassion.

Despite the size of the Star Destroyer, it seemed impossible to find a breath of solitude, constantly dodging patrols or maintenance crew or janitorial workers; so, I walked. I’d barely glanced at the mission brief before lashing out, balking at the departure date looming in a mere three days, but it seemed a shockingly straightforward reconnaissance objective: confirm the presence of a droid factory that had supposedly just begun construction, and, if the reports were correct, plant enough explosives to level it before the thing could become a threat. Simple…

It wasn’t hunger that drew me toward the mess hall. I knew they’d be there, most of them, at least, and, though I wasn’t ready to actually speak with them, emotions still too raw to even feign some appearance of calm, I needed to see them. Tech’s arm no longer needed the support and protection of the sling, a fact he took advantage of before I’d properly cleared him, and he’d assured me that he’d tended both Echo’s shoulder and Wrecker’s knee while my attention was focused on Hunter and Crosshair, a kindness that only deepened my own growing sense of inadequacy even as I’d forced myself to offer my gratitude.

In the sea of nearly identical faces, my men screamed their defiance both through stature and in the striking contrast of their darkened armor amidst the white and gold of the 212th. It was because of that contrast that I was surprised to note an additional figure beside them; beside Wrecker. He dwarfed the man, an illusion that was only further accentuate by Crosshair and Tech's towering frames seated just across from them. Still, I found myself tensing, shoulders drawing back as my teeth ground, lips just hinting at a scowl, but I froze before taking that first step toward them. Smiling… Wrecker was smiling.

While I couldn't see their expressions from where I stood, Crosshair had his chin nestled atop his palm, elbow lazily hiked up on the table, an air of impatience screaming from how his head hung down toward a shoulder, more resigned than annoyed, and Tech appeared to actually be just as engaged with the reg as Wrecker. That guilt returned in force. They were talking; laughing… and I’d been so ready to assume the worst…

I studied them for a moment longer, gaze lingering on the gleeful face of the reg as I absently noted the faint scar bisecting one of his eyebrows. This wasn’t me… This neurotic mess, jumping to respond with violence before even granting a chance to speak… That man was no different than the troopers Emmy gave her life trying to help… His broad grin only twisted that bitter taste of shame and regret deeper into my chest, tightening some unseeable noose. It felt like something was about to snap, muscles locked so taut they threatened to shake.

Air fleeing me in a sharp huff, I turned on my heel and all but fled, boots clicking loudly against the harsh metal below in rushed strides just shy of running. Cody once warned me of how traumatic events could alter the dynamic of a group. I wondered, suddenly, why he knew that. It felt odd to think that the Kaminoans might have chosen to include such concepts in whatever glimpses of psychology they might have included in their training programs, but his words had held none of the hesitation of one speaking only through thin fragments of forced studies, the details of which had long since been forgotten. I wouldn’t doubt that his General was surely well versed in such things, but the Commander’s words held a weight far greater than what might be found through secondhand allusion. Had he seen the consequences of some similar horror? Watched the fallout helpless to stop it? What would he say to this? How might he judge the depth of my connection – my dependency – to these men? How quickly might he replace me?

I knew Hunter was right. There was a balance between what care I was allowed to give and the merciless demands of the GAR, and if I faltered too far in either direction, I’d lose them…

Hunter’s eyes snapped up as I reentered the room, body tensing where he stood just a few careful steps from his bed, and I watched that initial panic of being caught flare into a defensive glare, but I didn’t allow myself to sink back into what fears had fueled my earlier outbursts rebuking his every attempt to push himself; I didn’t allow myself the freedom of even acknowledging that fear, that whisper of doubt that I was still missing something; I couldn’t.

“I’m ordering a stress test.” I stated before he could bark out whatever argument clearly churned behind taut lips. Instantly, that tension fled him, powerful shoulders sinking beneath a hesitation that only further emphasized how apparently unreasonable he’d believed me to be, and I had to let my gaze fall to the now empty bed beside him to keep that realization from breaking me.

“If the scars hold and you don’t start bleeding out again, I’ll clear you for duty.” I didn’t look at him as I said it, and the silence that followed was anything but kind. I had to keep myself from fidgeting, jaw ground.

“… Doc…” The quiet sympathy in his voice only pulled me nearer to the edge of breaking. Wrenching a quick, deep breath into my lungs, I snatched my datapad and rapidly typed in the order before I could talk myself out of it.

“You deserve better than this…” I barely whispered it, rage and despair twisting through the words. He called my name, and my throat seized against the ball of tears straining to escape.

“I'll get you some clothes.” I said stiffly and, before he could respond, before he could further justify the cruel reasoning behind his rushed return to the battlefield or offer some softly murmured reassurance that I couldn't risk letting myself believe, I turned away, steps once again tapping loudly on the hard floors. Three days… we had only three days before being forced to fight again... It was wrong…

I’d brought him a comfortable shirt along with his shorts for the stress test. He elected not to wear it. Whether that choice stemmed from a hope to flaunt how quickly his wounds were healing or something far less innocent, I wouldn't let myself think too deeply on it - straining to keep my gaze on the datapad in my hand instead than the wealth of power illustrated by his every stride.

Hunter’s hair was tied up in a messy bun rather than loosely held back by that faded bandana, revealing elegant lines of muscle sweeping from his thick neck down to broad shoulders honed to frightful perfection from years of ruthless fighting, from racing across battlefields with heavy weaponry held at the ready, from driving fist and blade alike through enemies made of flesh and metal and every combination in between. He’d gained nearly ten kilograms in the time I’d been with them, and that boon had only added to the lethal effigy of raw power before me; added to the very real danger he represented. That power scared me, once… but that was a long time ago.

“Pain level? Say anything less than three and I’ll throw a damn weight vest on you.” I threatened, speaking as though I wasn’t fighting to keep my gaze from following every drop of sweat as they slid down the valleys carved between abs accentuated by dark, coarse hair that narrowed in such a cruel invitation between the V is his hips before vanishing beneath the waistline of his shorts.

“Three.” I could hear his smirk, jaw tensing against the way my lips threatened to pull into a grin of my own even as I pointedly rolled my eyes at him.

“Any difficulty breathing? Stiffness or pressure or-”

“Pretty sure one of those fancy scanners would have started yelling at me if my lung was collapsing again.” He drawled, turning toward me with a knowing look. He’d been running for nearly an hour, and the man was barely winded… Still, I couldn’t silence that fear… that certainty that there was something…

“Alright…” I finally murmured, hand reluctantly reaching out to flutter over the controls. His attention didn’t waver as he gradually slowed to a stop, chest swelling with barely quickened breaths. There was a sense of defeat sown deeply through that single word that forbade me from meeting his eyes for a long moment, studying the readout of his vitals one last time before making myself look at him. “If anything feels off – if the pain gets worse or you feel short of breath, I swear to the Force, Hunter, you need to tell me.” It was supposed to be an order, but the desperation drowning me left it anything but, and the softness in the way he sighed my name robbed me of even a sliver of denial that he hadn’t noticed as he slowly crossed the room.

“I will.” He could have mocked me; could have dismissed my fears with overly confident boasts and promises, but he didn’t, and that granted a far greater comfort that he could possibly know… Still…

“I don’t like this…” I barely whispered it, finally letting the weight of that terrible dread tug at the corners of my lips, shoulders sinking with a helplessness neither of us had any hope of fixing.

“I know.” He murmured. For just a moment, his shoulder tensed, arm just beginning to move before he forced it still, and I mourned the loss of that touch he hadn't allowed himself to give, the warmth of his hand stolen from me for fear of wandering eyes and over-eager rumors.

My gaze fell, lingering for just a moment on that hand, on the ridges of veins and spiderwebs of scars, on the memory of the dizzying contrast between the roughness of calluses stretching across palm and fingertips alike, and how gentle I knew his touch to be.

“Someone stays with you.” That, at least, carried some hint of authority as I drew a shaky breath before looking back up at him. “I don't care what happens, someone stays with you at all times.” The patches of bare skin where the electrodes had gone refused to let me forget how still he’d been between those horrid moments when his body had seized beneath the flood of electricity meant to restart his heart. The bruising had already begun fading from his chest, but I’d never be able to forget how stark the outline of my palms had looked, how dark the mottled purples and red were in those hours after bringing him back…

He let out a quiet huff at my order, head tilting down slightly to better hold my gaze.

“Yes, ma’am.” My lips pursed slightly at that teasing lilt, and I had to fight back the threat of heat spreading up my neck at the low rumble of his voice.

Drawing a deep breath, I finally turned away from him, attention falling back to my datapad to clear him before I could find some excuse not to.

“And you’re wearing a chest brace.” I added, cheeks burning at the quiet chuckle it drew from him.

“Alright.” He hummed through that little smirk that sent my heart racing, brow hitching slightly. “Anything else?” My jaw jut forward against the smile toying with the edge of my own lips.

“Give me a sec, and I’ll think of something.” I shot back, arms crossing my chest with a heatless glare, but he only responded with another soft laugh.

The following day passed in a blur; endless paperwork to finish, a shocking amount of supplies to restock, as well as overseeing what precious few hours of physical therapy I could force each of them through before we were scheduled to leave. Nearly each of them, at least. Wrecker's knee had some lingering stiffness, but that faded with minor warmups. Tech's arm was still notably weak, but he assured me he'd already tested for nerve damage, and I had no reason to doubt him, resigned to merely monitor it over the coming weeks. Crosshair had spent much of the time aboard the massive flagship in their gun range, and he had no qualms with proving just how thoroughly his eyes had healed. But Echo… Echo had vanished under the guise of “requisitioning" materials to finish building his new legs, an occasional message our only reassurance that he was still onboard.

I shouldn't have been surprised to note the missing supplies during my final check of the Marauder's medbay, but the little pang of disappointment was there regardless. The night cycle had nearly begun, and the thought of sinking in-between warm sheets and warmer arms taunted me as I reluctantly noted the missing bacta and bandages, and started wearily back to the hanger's storage room, empty box cocked against my hip.

Night had little meaning in space. It was a label meant only to grant some illusion of familiarity; a place-keeper for the sake of simplicity despite the fact that “night" had a thousand different meanings on a thousand different planets. What days or weeks spent in the in-between of hyperspace were usually used to gradually adjust perception to match the cycle of one’s destination.

The Vigilance, however, had no destination. If she neared a planet, it was for the sake of a brutal onslaught void of any consideration toward night and day. Men died in the darkness just as easily as in the light. So the Vigilance rotated between an imagined night and day solely because such a thing was expected, but, in truth, it made no difference beyond a simple shift change to those sentenced to remain in that liminal existence. Solders still marched through halls on patrol amidst maintenance crews and cleaner bots and all manner of workers striving to keep the vessel ready to fight at a moment's notice, and they spared me little consideration as I wove between them, just another cog churning within the Republic’s war.

“It was a trick question.” My attention snapped up, surprised to find a clone standing a few meters away just within the door of the supply room, a tentative smile on his youthful face. I nearly glanced behind me, but there was no mistaking who he was speaking to.

“I… didn’t ask a question.” I replied hesitantly, mind struggling to make sense of the odd interaction as I studied the man before me. His left brow was split from some barely visible scar, and his nose was ever so slightly askew, but his eyes were free of that haunted distance that had become far too common among the more war-hardened soldiers.

“Droid poppers.” He said as though that might explain everything. A moment later, I finally realized that it did, eyes widening, and his lips pulled into a broad grin, shoulders shaking with the faintest hint of laughter. My mouth opened, but I was too surprised to fathom a response.

“Jester.” He offered stealing a few slow steps closer., and I couldn’t quite hide the wince, but he only laughed harder.

“Feel like I might owe you an apology for that.” I offered with a sympathetic chuckle.

“Well, I did have a couple more… exciting names I would have preferred, but…” he shrugged, “I kind of earned it.” The ease of his aloofness was a stark balm to the heaviness of the past several days, and I readily welcomed that lightness with a smile of my own.

“I don’t think that was a trick question.” I belatedly retorted, instantly earning an animated eyeroll.

“But it was definitely meant to make me look like a damn fool.” I couldn’t help but snicker, nose scrunching with a knowing smirk.

“Just be glad I sent you to Wrecker instead of Tech.” He let out a heavy huff at my response.

“Tech was there.” He stated flatly, and I let out an unapologetic snort. “I think he’s going to try to make my entire batch repeat basic chemistry…”

“But now you know how to make an incendiary grenade from spare parts.” I teased. His shoulders dropped, brows furrowing above a fond glare.

“Yeah. Several ways, in fact.” He drawled, earning another bout of laughter from me.

“He’s… really nice.” Jester’s voice fell into a near whispered, expression softening with a touch of remorse.

“Yeah,” I murmured quietly, “He really is… They all are.” I added, but the skeptical look he shot me drew a knowing chuckle even as I tried to suppress it. “They are.” I pressed. “Just… need to earn it, first.” His gaze fell at that, jaw shifting stiffly as that remorse grew.

“I tried to apologize… He wouldn’t even let me finish.”

“Words… don’t really matter much to him.” I explained gently. “You reached out… And since Crosshair was there and you don’t have any black eyes, I’m assuming you did it respectfully.” He let out a quiet huff.

“Thanks.” He whispered after a brief moment of silence. I didn’t have to wait long before he continued. “I needed some sense knocked into me… would have preferred you do it in a less embarrassing way, but…” His eyes rose back to meet mine. “Thanks.”

“Let’s not make a habit of it.” I replied, words quiet before drawing a deep breath and glancing back at the still empty crate. “You got out of it last time, but, since you’re here, how about you help me pack for our next mission?” That beaming smile instantly returned to his lips as he eagerly started toward me.

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leclercvsx · 1 year ago

Text

FANBOY | SMAU

CHARLES LECLERC

pairings: Charles x singer!reader

summary: charles (and some other drivers) fanboy over y/n and her music.

faceclaim: Huh Yunjin (my wife xo)

warnings: none

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo and 1,824,264 others

yourusername: i can change everything about me to fit in

y/nfan: IS THIS A SONG LYRIC?!?!

y/nlover: i might cry like actually

fancyy/n: MOTHER IS MAKING A NEW ALBUM IM CALLING IT RIGHT NOW

luvy/n: UGH i need new music rn pls

y/nlover: no because actually

lilymhe: this album will make me sob won’t it

yourusername: maybe🤭

lilymhe: AH HELLO

riabish: so excited !!! 😭

liked by yourusername

loveyy/n: this album gonna be so relatable, i can just tell🫣

l0vey/n: release it already🫣

chae_yung: i heard it first😊

yourusername: don’t tease them😠

eun.7: y’all are about to lose your shit😹

liked by yourusername

—

y/n.jpg

liked by charles_leclerc, lilymhe and 2,836 others

y/n.jpg: opened the jpg account for a few minutes so welcome new people and old people 🙄

TAGGED: chae_yung and eun.7

lilymhe: i’m honored

chae_yung: i will smack that look off your face

y/n.jpg: girl be for real, i can take you in a fight😤

chae_yung: stfu

danielricciardo: made it just in time😰

y/n.jpg: please go back to redbull, i need it in my life😭

charles_leclerc: i barely made it🙄

y/n.jpg: leave ferrari !!! jk…unless🫣

y/nfan: MOTHER WHEN IS THE ALBUM BEING RELEASED

y/n.jpg: SOON VERY VERY SOON, MY CHILD

eun.7: ew

y/n.jpg: you’re my biggest hater

y/nlover: release the album now🤭

y/n.jpg: how about, no🤭

alex_albon: my girlfriend loves you more than me😔

y/n.jpg: your girlfriend is now my wife 🫶

lilymhe: YES I LOVE YOU

alex_albon: i love you too❤️

lilymhe: not you🙄

—

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, lilymhe and 2,538,284 others

yourusername: my new album ‘folklore’ is finally out and available for streaming on ALL platforms!! I hope you guys enjoy this album as much i did making it.

This album means a lot to me and has a few of my favorite songs i’ve ever written on it. Such as ‘This Is Me Trying’, ‘mirrorball’, ‘seven’ and ‘the lakes’.

stream now !! 🫶

y/nfan: NO COS SHE ATE WITH THIS ALBUM

y/nlover: don’t mind me just sobbing over seven

fancyy/n: i BALLED listening to this whole album😭😭

lilymhe: my new favourite album, i love it so much☹️

yourusername: i love YOU so much🫶

charles_leclerc: honestly, one of your best albums.

yourusername: why thank you mr leclerc🤭

alex_albon: lily’s been crying nonstop over this🙄

yourusername: my poor wife :( i didn’t mean to make you cry 😔🫶

lilymhe: you’re forgiven babe❤️

alex_albon: leave MY GIRLFRIEND ALONE

eun.7: meh, it was alright

yourusername: 🙄

chae_yung: so proud of you🫶

yourusername: ily😭

l0vey/n: no cause seven’s chorus made me want to kms☹️

yourusername: please don’t !! 🫶

—

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 1,274,628 others

yourusername: in the words of sebastian vettel (my lover) “Everyone is a Ferrari fan. Even if they’re not, they’re a Ferrari fan” ❤️🏎️

TAGGED: charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, ferrari and eun.7

ferrari: ❤️

liked by yourusername

charles_leclerc: it was great meeting you ❤️

yourusername: you too!! 🫶

carlossainz55: ❤️

liked by yourusername

lilymhe: meeting you has made my life complete btw😘

yourusername: AH MY WIFE I LOVE YOU

alex_albon: first you take my girlfriend and now you’re not even a williams fan🙄

yourusername: no one’s a williams fan 🫶

y/nfan: not eunchae wearing a CHECO hat

yourusername: don’t. we’ve had our discussion about THAT.

eun.7: it was so fun tho, even with you there x

yourusername: girl the only reason you were there was because of ME

—

y/n.jpg

liked by charles_leclerc, lilymhe and 1,728 others

y/n.jpg: currently falling in love with charles leclerc, don’t mind me x (the toto pic is off pinterest…dilf<3)

TAGGED: charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc: im honoured love😉

y/n.jpg: on my knees rn

eun.7: obsessed much

y/n.jpg: i will literally fight you right now

chae_yung: i ship it 😚

y/n.jpg: 😙😙

lilymhe: i know something people don’t👀👀

y/n.jpg: shh now😉

y/nfan: new relationship = new music 🤪

y/nlover: f1 y/n is my fave y/n😫

eun.7: just realised, don’t you hate ferrari? 🤨

y/n.jpg: when they’re screwing my man over, yes.

—

y/n.jpg

liked by charles_leclerc, eun.7 and 2,372 others

y/n.jpg: can i go, where you go❤️

feat freddie the horse cos i missed him sm and duke my not so little puppy 😙

TAGGED: charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc: i love you ❤️

y/n.jpg: AH i love you too, so much😭😭

y/nfan: NEW SONG??? NEW BOYFRIEND?? IM GOING INSANE

y/nlover: omg an album about being in love💔💔💔

eun.7: why didn’t you take me with you to see freddie😔

y/n.jpg: you didn’t deserve to come x

charles_leclerc: i went with her instead🤭

eun.7: wow, i’ll remember this

lilymhe: HAHA I KNEW THIS FIRST🫶🫶

y/n.jpg: of course bby😘

chae_yung: happy for you!! ❤️

y/n.jpg: i love you so much😭🫶

—

charles_leclerc

liked by carlossainz55, yourusername and 875k others

charles_leclerc: stream y/n’s new album, lover ❤️

TAGGED: yourusername

yourusername: hehe, thank you baby😘

charles_leclerc: you’re very welcome sweetheart❤️

charlesfan: they’re adorable🙄

y/ncharles: he’s promoting her new album :((((

carlossainz55: i like the song cornelia street

yourusername: and the song cornelia street likes you, carlos <3

eun.7: makes no sense

yourusername: fuck off

y/nfan: thank you Mr leclerc for being an inspiration for mother to produce a new album🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

y/nlover: i need maathp shooting through my veins

ferrari: ❤️

sebastianvettel: congrats mate, the album is amazing too y/n!

charles_leclerc: thanks mate, but you made her cry of happiness😭

yourusername: i love you😭😭

danielricciardo: i was her fan first btw

yourusername: of course danny😘

ferrarifan: she’s already getting along with his friends😭i😭love😭them😭

i hope you all enjoyed this one shot! i loved making it! although he didn’t really fanboy over her but that’s fine lmao. Small reminder, requests are still open!! 🫶

masterlist | request

540 notes · View notes

littleminigenius · 3 months ago

Text

rosekiller long fic recs

i know how hard it is to find multi-chapter fics where rosekiller is actually the main ship so here's my current list of ones i've read / am reading:

(i copy pasted the full ao3 link with the tags and summaries and everything so there's a lot of text beneath the cut btw, i'd just rather have more info than not enough)

100k+ words & completed:

Head Over Feet (136890 words) by sanguinerose Chapters: 27/27 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Barty Crouch Jr./Evan Rosier Characters: Evan Rosier, Barty Crouch Jr., Regulus Black, Marlene McKinnon, Pandora Lovegood, Emmeline Vance Additional Tags: Friends to Lovers, Alternate Universe - High School, Slow Burn, Fluff and Angst, Internalized Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Bad Parenting, Falling In Love, Everyone Is Gay, Smoking, Evan Rosier Needs a Hug, Idiots in Love, Explicit Sexual Content, Developing Friendships, Drinking, First Love, Barty Crouch Jr. is a Little Shit, French Evan Rosier, Bisexual Barty Crouch Jr., Demisexual Evan Rosier Summary: “This is a really bad idea, Barty.” Barty hums, nose brushing against Evan’s. Despite his words, his hand found its way to the back of Barty’s neck, keeping him close. “Then tell me to stop.” “You know I won’t." Evan moves back from France to England after over a decade with very little expectations. He’s never really had any friends and he’s used to people stepping out of his life—why would this time be any different? He’s ready to spend his remaining years at high school alone. Luckily for Evan, a few people don’t seem to let him.

So Look At Me In The Eye (Is Anyone There At All?) (169768 words) by picture2burn Chapters: 43/43 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Barty Crouch Jr./Evan Rosier, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Regulus Black/James Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, Marlene McKinnon/Dorcas Meadowes Characters: Barty Crouch Jr., Evan Rosier, Regulus Black, Dorcas Meadowes, Pandora Lovegood, Sirius Black, James Potter, Remus Lupin, Marlene McKinnon Additional Tags: Slytherin, Chaotic Barty Crouch Jr., slytherin skittles, Rosekiller, Alternate Universe - No Voldemort, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Happy Ending, everyone will be happy mark my words, Fluff and Angst, Lots of Angst, i'll add tags as the story goes on, POV Multiple, evan and barty pov, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, i cant believe i forgot to add that tag, this shit is very slow burn tho Summary: Barty Crouch Jr. and Evan Rosier have been friends since they were kids. Nothing could change the bond between them, no matter what. Until they start falling in love with each other. - Or, Barty and Evan realize things aren't how they were meant to be.

like real people do (147431 words) by tsprongs Chapters: 19/19 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage Sex Relationships: Bartemius Crouch Jr./Evan Rosier, Pandora Rosier & Evan Rosier, Pandora Rosier & Bartemius Crouch Jr, Regulus Black/James Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, Pandora Lovegood/Emmeline Vance, Mary Macdonald/Lily Evans Potter Characters: Bartemius Crouch Jr., Evan Rosier, Pandora Rosier, Original Male Character(s), Regulus Black, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, Dorcas Meadowes, Marlene McKinnon, Andromeda Black Tonks, Narcissa Black Malfoy, Lily Evans, Mary Macdonald (Harry Potter), James Potter, Emmeline Vance, Hestia Jones, Benjy Fenwick, Caradoc Dearborn, Amelia Bones, Edgar Bones Additional Tags: Rosekiller, Jegulus, MacEvans, dorlene, wolfstar, Everyone Is Gay, Modern Marauders (Harry Potter), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternative Universe - FBI, Alternate Universe - Criminals, mexican barty, POC James Potter, Good Peter Pettigrew, Gay Evan Rosier, Gay Bartemius Crouch Jr., bartemius crouch jr & pandora rosier friendship, Lesbian Lily Evans, get lily evans her own tag, ex snily friendship, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst, Fluff, Marauders as Found Family, Alternate Universe, james potter & bartemius crouch jr. friendship, Friendship, Pre-Relationship, Developing Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, POV Multiple, Minor Character Death, Original Character(s), Plus-Size Lily Evans Potter, Non-binary character, Endgame Barty Crouch Jr./Evan Rosier, Regulus Black & Evan Rosier Friendship, POV Alternating, Regulus Black & Barty Crouch Jr. Friendship, Trans Regulus Black, Trans Pandora Lovegood, Trans Male Character, Trans Female Character, Autism, Autism Spectrum Summary: “First of all, I would like to say that every single bit of work you’ve done in this case is greatly appreciated, and you have saved so many lives,” she says. Barty’s heart drops for a moment. “You’re not taking me off it?” He says. “No,” she shakes her head quickly. “Of course not. I’d like you to be the agent who stays with Evan Rosier in the safe house.” “You what?” Barty stares at her. No way. “Absolutely not. No way in hell. I respect you, Andromeda, but there is no way I’m staying in a house with that man for however long we have to.” - - - - "so i will not ask you, why you were creeping, in some sad way, i already know." like real people do by hozier

A star for a summer's day (142778 words) by her_smile_forges_galaxies Chapters: 26/26 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Regulus Black/Barty Crouch Jr., Regulus Black/James Potter, Barty Crouch Jr./Evan Rosier, James Potter/Evan Rosier, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Sirius Black/Remus Lupin Characters: Regulus Black, Barty Crouch Jr., James Potter, Evan Rosier, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Pandora Lovegood, Dorcas Meadowes, Euphemia Potter, Poppy Pomfrey, Peter Pettigrew Additional Tags: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Alternate Universe - No Voldemort, Bartylus, Rosekiller, Jegulus, Remus and Regulus friendship, wolfstar, slytherin skittles, Jealousy, Fluff and Angst, Gay Regulus Black, Bisexual Barty Crouch Jr., Gay Evan Rosier, Pansexual James Potter, Gay Remus Lupin, Bisexual Sirius Black, Moonseeker friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Background Wolfstar, family trauma, POV Multiple, Angst with a Happy Ending, Two can play at that game, Fake Dating, Implied Sexual Content, Quidditch, Past Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Slow Burn, Gryffindor Party, No beta we die like Regulus Black did in the cave, Asexual Evan Rosier, Regulus Black Needs a Hug Summary: Barty is in love with Evan, and he doesn't know what to do about it. Regulus is in love with James, and he doesn't know what to do about it. Luckily for both of them, Barty has a foolproof plan (or maybe not so full proof after all, but you can't blame a guy for trying)

note: i know the first two ships tagged are bartylus and jegulus, but this fic is basically equally rosekiller and jegulus, bartylus is just an intermediate

Beneath the Mask (105164 words) by orphan_account Chapters: 44/44 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Barty Crouch Jr./Evan Rosier, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Regulus Black/James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Pandora Lovegood/Xenophilius Lovegood Characters: Evan Rosier, Barty Crouch Jr., Minor Characters, Patil Family (Harry Potter), Pandora Lovegood, Regulus Black, Winky | Crouch Family House-Elf, Gregory Goyle's Father, Rosier Family (Harry Potter), Bartemius "Barty" Crouch Sr., Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody, James Potter, Lily Evans Potter Additional Tags: Angst, Fluff and Angst, Domestic Fluff, Death Eaters, Azkaban, Not Canon Compliant, Department of Mysteries (Harry Potter), Asexual Evan Rosier, Bisexual Barty Crouch Jr., Friends to Lovers, Seer Evan Rosier, Evan Rosier-centric, Past Regulus Black/Barty Crouch Jr., Established Regulus Black/James Potter, Established Regulus Black/James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, POV Barty Crouch Jr., Evan Rosier Lives, Barty Crouch Jr. Lives, Unspeakable Regulus Black, Unspeakable Pandora Lovegood, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking, Canon-Typical Violence, Anti-Muggle Content, Propaganda, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Hurt/Comfort, The Power Of Love, They're both a bit not good, POV Evan Rosier, POV Alternating Series: Part 6 of Through the Pensieve Summary: It's been nearly a year since Evan was released from Azkaban, and he needs to move on with his life, but it's hard when he's followed by Aurors and pressured by his family to begin working with Robert Goyle, all while being haunted by his past and unsure if he's losing his mind. Evan's story is broken up with the memories of Barty Crouch Jr, starting with their first year at Hogwarts and leading to where they are now. -or- Is Love the most powerful form of magic, and can it counter a blood curse?

Incomplete but on their way to 100k+ words:

Psychotic kids (85573 words) by QuillFire Chapters: 15/? Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Barty Crouch Jr./Evan Rosier, Regulus Black & Barty Crouch Jr. & Pandora Lovegood & Dorcas Meadowes & Evan Rosier, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, Regulus Black/James Potter, Pandora Lovegood/Xenophilius Lovegood, Marlene McKinnon/Dorcas Meadowes Characters: Evan Rosier, Barty Crouch Jr., Regulus Black, Pandora Lovegood, Dorcas Meadowes, James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Lily Evans Potter, Mary Macdonald (Harry Potter), Marlene McKinnon, Xenophilius Lovegood, Emmeline Vance, Sybill Trelawney, Fabian Prewett, Gideon Prewett (Harry Potter), Molly Weasley, Arthur Weasley, Benjy Fenwick, Alice Longbottom, Frank Longbottom, Bellatrix Black Lestrange, Narcissa Black Malfoy, Andromeda Black Tonks, Lucius Malfoy, Rosier Family (Harry Potter) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Alternate Universe - High School, Pandora Lovegood and Evan Rosier are Twins, Demisexual Evan Rosier, POV Evan Rosier, French Evan Rosier, Bisexual Barty Crouch Jr., POV Barty Crouch Jr., Trans Regulus Black, Strangers to Lovers, Slow Burn, Mental Health Issues, Recreational Drug Use, Underage Drinking, Angst, French Sirius Black, French Regulus Black, Family Issues, Dysfunctional Family, Family Dynamics, Family Bonding, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags May Change, Tags Contain Spoilers, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied Sexual Content, Suicidal Thoughts, Child Abuse, Transphobia, Suicide Attempt, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Domestic Violence, Past Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Coercion, Emotional Manipulation, Manipulation, Child Neglect Summary: The first thing Evan ever remembered was sunlight streaming through a window, warm and golden, brushing over his skin. It felt like a promise, but promises lie. After his father’s death, Evan returns to the UK, to a family he doesn’t know, people he doesn’t trust, and a life he doesn’t want waiting for him. Barty is chaos incarnate: loud, touchy, and impossible to ignore. He’s hell-bent on breaking every rule, but somehow, Evan doesn’t crumble. That only makes Barty want to tear him apart — or hold him closer. Pandora has always felt like something is missing — a piece of herself ripped away before she could understand what it was. Her dreams are fleeting, but her determination to find what’s lost is unshakable. Regulus is sharp-eyed and sharper-tongued, keeping his emotions locked away. Beneath his calm exterior lies quiet rage and unspoken battles. Dorcas is bold, sarcastic, and fiercely loyal. She offers no pity — only the strength and love that demand you keep going, even when you want to stop. In a world full of noise, anger, and desperation, the question isn’t whether they’ll tear each other down — it’s whether they’ll find a way to hold each other up before it’s too late.

Perilous Things (96653 words) by cuntycrouch Chapters: 15/? Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Barty Crouch Jr./Evan Rosier, Regulus Black/James Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, others, Regulus Black & Sirius Black, The Marauders - Relationship, Regulus Black & Barty Crouch Jr. & James Potter & Evan Rosier, Sirius Black & Remus Lupin & Peter Pettigrew & James Potter, Marlene McKinnon/Dorcas Meadowes, Regulus Black & Barty Crouch Jr. & Pandora Lovegood & Dorcas Meadowes & Evan Rosier, Regulus Black/Barty Crouch Jr., Grant Chapman (MsKingBean89)/Remus Lupin, Mary Macdonald/Peter Pettigrew Characters: Barty Crouch Jr., Evan Rosier, Remus Lupin, James Potter, Regulus Black, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, Marlene McKinnon, Dorcas Meadowes, Mary Macdonald (Harry Potter), Lily Evans Potter, Pandora Lovegood, Ted Tonks, Andromeda Black Tonks, Grant Chapman (MsKingBean89) Additional Tags: Barty Crouch Jr. Being an Asshole, Evan not having it, Football | Soccer, Angst, James the sun potter, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Marauders, Alternate Universe - High School, Daddy Issues, Reg and Barty are literature nerds, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Peter and Evan are besties, Alternate Universe - Football, Rosekiller AU, Modern Marauders (Harry Potter), Enemies to Lovers Summary: A Rosekiller centered football/high school au. Barty never care much about making friends. He never cared much about anything, to be honest. Then came Britain, a new school, football and mainly James fucking Potter need for team spirit.

Complete fics <100k words:

A serpent and his rose (65028 words) by LovelyLittleManiac Chapters: 18/18 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marauders - Fandom, Marauder - Fandom Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Bartemius Crouch Jr./Evan Rosier, Regulus Black & Bartemius Crouch Jr., Regulus Black/James Potter Additional Tags: Minor Marlene McKinnon/Dorcas Meadowes, Minor Pandora Lovegood/Lily Evans, Minor Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, LGBTQ Character, Mild Sexual Content, POV Barty Crouch Jr., Bisexual Barty Crouch Jr., Trans Regulus Black, Gay Regulus Black, Gay Evan Rosier, Non-Binary Pandora Lovegood, Rosekiller, Starchaser, Bartylus, Slytherin skittles dealing with Hogwarts life, love drama, Barty being a dramatic little shit, lots of fluff, Some mild traumatic homelife stuff, Not Canon Compliant, Evan is Amazing, JUST KISS ALREADY, CAN SOMEONE TELL THESE IDIOTS THEY'RE IN LOVE? Summary: A Non-canon compliant, Barty POV, Rosekiller fic, that starts off with a fun Darkstar (Bartylus) FWB relationship and shows a glimpse into the life of the Slytherin skittles in their final Hogwarts years. Lots of love drama, lots of fluff, some pain. Rosekiller (and Jegulus) endgame!!

when the butterflies turned to dust (26865 words) by cukrkandl Chapters: 8/8 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Barty Crouch Jr./Evan Rosier, Regulus Black & Barty Crouch Jr. & Pandora Lovegood & Dorcas Meadowes Characters: Barty Crouch Jr., Evan Rosier, Regulus Black, Pandora Rosier, Dorcas Meadowes Additional Tags: Fake Dating, that's the only cute part now for the warnings lmao:, Self-Worth Issues, Past Sexual Assault, Internalized Homophobia, Internalized Acephobia, people pleaser barty crouch, but it's like super intense and not healthy at all, First Kiss, First Date, Asexual Barty Crouch Jr., Asexual Evan Rosier, Trans Evan Rosier, Friendship, Angst, Fixing broken friendships, barty just wants to be a good person, it's kinda sad ngl, Allonormativity, No actual sex happens, just past references, Minor Jegulus, Minor Dorlene, past unrequited bartylus, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Past Abuse, Happy Ending, Alternate Universe - No Voldemort, Transphobia Summary: Instead of dealing with his extensive issues, Barty somehow finds himself the Hogwarts' go-to guy for girls who want to lose their virginity. It's weird, he knows, but he doesn't realize exactly how weird until Evan asks him too. Barty doesn't know him very well; he and Pandora only switched places at the beginning of the year, and Barty's never talked to him much before. What he does know, though, is that he can't just do that to his best friend's brother. Instead, he decides to fake date Evan to show him what a perfect relationship should look like. Despite never having been in one. And not liking boys at all. Or sex.

Straight A's (32167 words) by stargirly161 Chapters: 14/14 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Barty Crouch Jr./Evan Rosier, Minor or Background Relationship(s) Characters: Evan Rosier, Barty Crouch Jr., Pandora Lovegood, Regulus Black, Dorcas Meadowes, Lily Evans Potter, James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Muggle, Academic Rivals to Lovers, Rivals to Lovers, Rivals to Friends to Lovers, Pandora Lovegood and Evan Rosier are Siblings, rosier twins, POV Alternating, POC Evan Rosier, Gay Evan Rosier, Everyone Is Gay, background Dorlene, background jegulus, they hate each other, or do they, Betting, Texting, Happy Ending, Fluff, I just want them to be happy, Fluff and Angst, barely any angst though, they are so stubborn, Slow Burn, Like really slow, not canon whatsoever, no beta we die like regulus in the cave, Underage Smoking, Tension, Flirting, Getting Together, Falling In Love, Background Pandalily - Freeform, toxic family expectations Summary: "Their grades had been acting like a sick game of tug-of-war, alternating like the phases of the moon, waxing in one of their favours before waning and swapping power to the other. Switching between first and second place like neither of them could find their footing on the podiums." Or, Evan Rosier and Barty Crouch Jr start their last year of sixth form determined to each be top of their class. Tests, bets and group projects force them to reconsider their fierce academic rivalry and maybe, possibly, discover that there's a thin line between love and hate.

Two Sides of the Same Coin (24827 words) by anything706 Chapters: 15/15 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Barty Crouch Jr./Evan Rosier, Lily Evans/Mary Macdonald, Marlene McKinnon/Dorcas Meadowes, Regulus Black/James Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, Barty Crouch Jr. & Mary Macdonald Characters: Barty Crouch Jr., Evan Rosier, Mary Macdonald (Harry Potter), Lily Evans, Regulus Black, James Potter, Marlene McKinnon, Dorcas Meadowes, Pandora Lovegood, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew Additional Tags: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Idiots in Love, Angst, everyones whipped, and oblivious, Established Jegulus, established dorlene, established wolfstar, I'm Bad At Tagging, everyones gay, i know barty and mary wouldn't have the same potions class, just roll with is, probably add tags later, short ass chapters, sorry about that, i don't know how to properly end fics, asexual evan, BI BARTY, bi lily, bi mary Summary: “You want me to flirt with someone in front of Lily?” Mary asked skeptically. “Why not take it a step further and date somebody, then see her reaction to you doing all these coupley things with someone that isn’t her, it’s perfect.” “Why would I want to string somebody along just to break up with them once I figure out what Lily thinks.” Oh he didn’t really think of that. “Eh so what?” He shrugs, “not that big a deal.” “That would just be cruel Barty.” “Then just get someone to fake date you.”

Cause I'm Just A Teenage Dirtbag, Baby (29095 words) by trinaveva Chapters: 7/7 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Barty Crouch Jr./Evan Rosier, Regulus Black/James Potter Characters: James Potter, Regulus Black, Sirius Black, Evan Rosier, Barty Crouch Jr. Additional Tags: Enemies to Lovers, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking, Jealousy, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Evan Rosier Needs a Hug, Pandora Lovegood and Evan Rosier are Twins, Protective Barty Crouch Jr., Minor Regulus Black/James Potter, Body Shots, barty calls evan rosie, Internalized Homophobia, Sharing a Bed, Evan Rosier is a Little Shit, Good Barty Crouch Jr., James Potter & Evan Rosier Friendship Summary: Evan wasn't looking at Crouch, He was just … glancing around. It's not his fault if Barty’s stupid bright green strands stood out, or the fact that black lines of whatever tattoo he had could be seen peaking out from under his shirt, tracing down his back, or how when he stood up and stretched Evan got a glimpse of his waistband, and if he looked closely he could make out the h- ‘-VAN?! Mate, lunch is over, everyone left. ‘ James was stood over Evan, looking at him with soft brown eyes, a steady tan hand on his shoulder, gently shaking him. ��You were staring again..’ Or; Evan is a handsome, popular footballer. Barty is a skater, outcast. They have never really gotten along, but for some reason they can't quite seem to leave each other alone.

#rosekiller #barty crouch jr #evan rosier #slytherin skittles #marauders #the marauders era #evan rosier x barty crouch jr #evan x barty #barty crouch junior

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licorice-tea · 1 year ago

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Duty At The Expense Of Desire

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x reader

Content: mild cursing, lots of arguing between reader and Law, reader is nervous to be in a relationship, platonic luffy and reader <3, reader loves the strawhats a lot :)

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: i spent so long just rereading this, i don’t know why but it feels kind of hard to understand? so i might revise it again in the future idk yet! i hope you enjoy reading, again this is very very loosely based on kate and anthony’s season in bridgerton! it was originally going to be 2 parts, but it’s looking like a full on series now… lmk if you want to be tagged in future parts! enjoy! <3

Part 2 | Part 4

Now that your feelings for Law have been revealed- not only to him but to yourself- you find the tension between the two of you is undeniably different from before.

What were once looks of contempt now harbor some quiet desire. Chances of accidentally brushing shoulders when you pass by each other are avoided altogether, for fear of fueling a fire neither of you know how to deal with. And any crass or biting quips are cut out of your minimal interactions completely, as you both now feel they come off as flirtatious rather than standoffish.

A few days have gone by since you confronted Law and he admitted his true feelings for you, all of which have been spent at sea. Nami says there won’t be an island to dock at for at least another three days, given how the weather is slowing the ship, so your crew’s only source of entertainment is each other.

“Y/n,” she asks while the two of you along with Robin relax on the deck, “what happened between you and Traffy the other day?”

Your breath hitches and you cough unnecessarily, already giving away your nervousness to the two very observant women. “Uh, not much.”

“Well, what did you two talk about? You didn’t come back to the table after, so I thought you must have stayed together…” Robin smiles softly, baiting you to reveal more.

“What? No, no, oh my god no… We just…”

Nami urges you on with a sing-song voice; “You just?”

“We… talked.”

“Talked about what?”

“I don’t know. Our issues with each other.”

“And you resolved them?”

“Come on, y/n, tell us what happened!”

“Nothing happened.”

You stand up then, too annoyed to continue talking to your friends. It’s not even their fault really; you would want to know what had gone on too, if the roles were reversed. Maybe you’re just annoyed with yourself for not being able to face your own feelings.

With no particular destination in mind, you find yourself in the Thousand Sunny’s library. When you open the door, you see Law browsing the selection of books your crew has accumulated throughout your travels. You shouldn’t be surprised to see him, but you are.

That’s what it must be; what other reason could there be for the sudden raving of your heart and your breath hitching? Any feelings you ever had for him were buried deep inside after last night; too deep to allow yourself to feel them to the extent you were currently, and so these must all be signs of surprise.

You steel yourself and walk in, letting the door close behind you. Law looks up to find out who the person intruding on his studying is, but his eyes are blown wide when he makes eye contact with you. Neither of you speaks as you turn away and cross the room in quick strides to another section of the library.

“Stupid Law,” you think as you try to calm your mind- an impossible task when he’s standing anywhere in the same room. “Stupid weather,” preventing you from getting to an island so you can get some damn space from him. “Stupid library, ” because of its shelves that make it all too easy and tempting to peak through and catch a glimpse of him.

Actually, maybe that’s not too risky of an idea. Cautiously, you bend down slightly and pretend to scan the titles on the shelf. You allow your eyes to slowly wander off the books until you can see Law by peering upwards. But low and behold, he’s staring right back at you.

You gasp and stand up straight, silently cursing your silly plan.

“Y/n.” He walks over to you, 2 books tucked under his arm. “l was under the impression you wanted me to keep your distance from me.”

“I do.”

“I find that hard to believe with the way you’ve been acting around me.”

“It’s just weird. You made me admit that I had feelings for you, and now things are weird.”

“I made you? You didn’t have to say anything, you could’ve rejected me and we both would’ve moved on.”

“I did reject you.”

“By telling me you feel the same? That’s some rejection.”

“You shouldn’t have said anything in the first place.”

“I had to, you told me that you thought I hated you.”

“But I didn’t make you say that you have feelings for me, and so now you’ve made it impossible to ignore.”

“Believe me, I tried to ignore it. To ignore you. It was pointless.”

“Then you weren’t trying hard enough. I could’ve gone a lifetime without bringing up the way I feel for you if it means my crew will be able to continue this alliance for our goals.”

“Don’t give me that shit, your captain made this alliance because he thinks we’re friends. You seriously think he had a goal in mind while doing so?”

With a roll of your eyes, you cross your arms over your chest. “Maybe not, but Luffy is the captain- I trust him, and so I follow him in any endeavor he believes in.”

“Well, I’m the captain of my own crew, and I believe that whatever we have going on is a little more than ally-ship.”

“Regardless of whatever is going on between us, is it really a smart idea to complicate such an important alliance?”

“…No. I suppose it’s not.”

“Then drop it-” You turn, ready to forget about this conversation and continue hiding your feelings away when he grabs your wrist.

“But they wouldn’t care, y/n, and you know that. Your crew thrives on-” he gestures vaguely with his free hand, “-friendship and rainbows and joy.”

Shaking off a smile, you bite back. “That might be true, but you know what’s even more important to my crew? Protecting each other. They wouldn’t like me being with you; even if we are temporary allies, you’re a Captain of another crew and one of the Supernovas. So don’t tell me what they would and wouldn’t be ok with.”

Law seems to think for a second before he releases your wrist. “Hmph.”

Finally, you take your leave to find somewhere- with no Law and no watchful friends- to just think.

You settle on the bow of the ship. If you had an ability like Luffy’s or any guarantee that you wouldn’t slip right off and into the sea, you would like to sit on the masthead of the Sunny. A clear, unobstructed view of the world ahead, and the breeze to keep the hair out your eyes could be so peaceful. But, this has some sort of charm to it as well; you do seem to love a challenge (even if it’s one as simple as having to lean over the railing of a ship to see the horizon).

With a cheerful call, the man you had just been thinking of joins you on the railing by the ship’s bow. Luffy speaks animatedly of his plans for all sorts of things, but during a lull in conversation, he asks you something unexpected.

“Do you love him?”

“What?”

“Traffy! Do you love him?”

“I…”

“You’ve said how much you hate him, but that just means your feelings for him are strong. So you love him, right?”

You’ve never been more bothered to hear Luffy say something so uncharacteristically observant.

“I love you guys.”

He hums. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t love other people, too.”

“…I won’t ever leave this crew, Luffy.”

“Of course you won’t!” He latches onto you in an iron-grip hug, and you smile ever so slightly. “But, y/n.”

“Yeah?”

He releases you and instead grabs your shoulders to talk to you face to face. His face seems especially serious- the same way it does when he makes a bold declaration of his dreams or beliefs. “If you love someone, you tell them. You don’t hide it, because you never know when they could be gone.”

Finally, your barely-there smile opens into a full grin. “When did you get to be so wise?”

Luffy shrugs. “Shanks told me that once, I just felt it made sense for you too.”

You and your captain stay there a while longer, giggling over this and that until the sun starts to set on the horizon.

“I'm gonna go sit on Sunny- you wanna come with me?”

Though you’d been fantasizing over what it would feel like up there just a few minutes ago, you shake your head. “No thanks. But, uh, Luffy?”

“Yeah?”

“Could you… not tell anyone about what we talked about?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, for sure!”

You would come to regret being so vague with your captain, even if he does occasionally display astonishing emotional intelligence.

At dinner- where there’s always something going on- you make an effort to sit far from Law. Your attempt is in vain, however, as he ends up right across from you. Luffy sits to your left, and while he takes a small break from stuffing his mouth, he nudges you with his elbow.

Your eyes meet your captain’s as he winks at you, then looks over at Law, and back to you. You can practically see the gears turning in his head as he had some sort of… plan in the works. With a wide grin, he asks, “Soooo Y/n, when are you and Traffy going to get married?”

A moment of silence passes before laughter erupts around the table from everyone except you and “Traffy.” The latter covers his face with one hand and pinches the bridge of his nose while you look simply horrified.

What had happened to not speaking of your earlier conversation? Admittedly, you had spoken of several subjects after your discussion of your feelings for Law… and knowing Luffy, he could have mistaken your vow of silence to be for any one of those subjects.

Since you’re sure your captain didn’t mean to embarrass you with his straightforward view of relationships, you just shake your head and give a muttered response. “We- we’re not, um, going to….”

Law, on the other hand, appears too bothered to stick around and listen to any more jokes. He stands abruptly and disappears in a flash of blue light.

You stick around long enough to finish your plate, then thank Sanji and leave quietly. Some unknown force draws you to Law, when you see him in Nami’s little grove of orange trees. Cautiously, you approach him.

“…Law? I- I’m sorry about that. I don’t know why Luffy said that.”

“It was embarrassing.”

“Okay, Law, they were all just joking. And I can’t even really blame them, because this entire situation is pretty fucking ridiculous.”

“No, y/n, it’s embarrassing that everybody knows how I feel and that you feel the same, and they’re all happy with the idea of us together, but you still don’t want to be with me.”

“It’s not personal, you know that.”

“How can it not be personal?”

“Everything I do is for my crew. I have a duty to them, and not even you or my own feelings will get in the way of that.”

“Do you seriously still believe that they would care if we were together?”

You purse your lips.

“I took your word for it at first, because you know your own crew better than I do, but clearly they have very little regard for what we do. Now I am inclined to believe that you made it up when you said they wouldn’t like us being… being something. And as foolish as I feel after believing that ridiculous excuse, I still want you, y/n. Tell me you want me too.”

“How much?” You ask with a fierce look.

“How much what?”

“How much do you want me, Law? You keep talking about your feelings for me, but you haven’t even said what they are.”

Again, you seem to find any way to continue arguing with the man before you as a means of releasing pent-up feelings. Just kissing him might be easier, but also a whole lot more terrifying and uncertain.

“Desire, attraction, whatever you want to call it-“

“Well, I’m not going to put everything on the line for someone who is attracted to me.”

“It’s more than that, you know that-“

“You know what I think?”

“…What?”

“I think that you can’t even admit to yourself- let alone aloud- the extent of your feelings for me. You want me to say it first so that nothing bad will happen if you put yourself out there, and that’s not going to happen.”

“I-“ He starts to speak, but can’t think of a rebuttal. You have him pegged. “I may not know exactly what my feelings are yet, but I can feel them, y/n. You remain on my mind constantly- so if you want me to stop feeling for you, then you need to stop.”

“Oh, I need to stop?”

“Yes, you-“

“You’re the one constantly making me reconsider everything I tell myself. You are the one who needs to stop.”

“Before what? Before we give in to this… obvious desire, and put aside duties to do something for ourselves?”

Heavy breathing fills the silence. He always manages to rile you up, and you can’t stand it.

“You should go. No, in fact,” you raise your hands in a gesture of surrender, “I’ll go.”

Without giving him the chance to respond, you flee down the stairs to the main deck and through the doors to the cabin hall. All this back and forth with Law is giving you a headache.

You can’t deny it any longer though; now that your captain knows too, it’s like you’ve spoken it into permanent existence. You’re in love with Law, and there’s next to nothing stopping you from being with him in the way you truly desire. Not even your sense of duty.

You should never have counted on the Strawhats to hold you back from something- or someone you love.

Taglist: @augustanna @lavanderdreamve @pinksaiyans @khaleesihavilliard @jennapancake @pinki-minki @loserbee14

#fanfic #one piece x reader #one piece #one piece x you #x reader #law x reader #law x you #law x y/n #straw hat pirates #trafalgar d law x reader #law fluff #law angst #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law #straw hat reader #luffy x reader #platonic luffy x reader #cat burglar nami #nico robin

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iamnot-crazy · 3 months ago

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Brainwaves Full post

Summary: One day, Trafalgar Law wakes up to a nightmare: you are in control of his body. He can hear you, he can feel you… and he can't do a damn thing about it. Now, the two of you are on a quest to unravel the mystery of your unexpected cohabitation, a quest that's going to be a lot more chaotic than Law would prefer.

tags: Pre-Grandline; Body Swap; Humor; Confused Heart Pirates; focus on Ikkaku; I guest Law x reader;

Word Count: 8,773

A/N: I wanted an excuse to write Law as a silly smiling character and doing things he never would so here is this short story. I am also testing how my post do as being posted as one big post rather than multiple post. To fit this format I did edit the story a bit for a better flow. Please let me know what you think and if you having fun suggestions for me to write next

MasterList

You wake up feeling stiff, as Bright lights assault your eyes you reach your arm up shielding them while trying to take in your surroundings. Nothing looks familiar, and you can’t recall how you got here. You place a hand down, feeling a cold metal table underneath. Looking around, you notice bookshelves crammed with medical texts and a table covered in tools, making it clear you’re in some kind of medical bay. But how did you end up here?

A pressure builds in your head as you swing your legs over the table. When your feet touch the floor something immediately feels wrong. You stumble, nearly falling, and grab your head as the pressure intensifies. You took a step back only to bump into a side table knocking it over.

“Watch it!”

You whip your head around, searching for the source of the voice. “Who’s there?”

“Up here,” the voice replies. You spin around, your back slamming into the bookshelf and sending some books tumbling. “Can you stop running into stuff!” the voice grumbles.

“Who are you? What are you doing inside my head?”

“Your head? I have a better question: What are you doing inside my body!” the voice shouts.

You freeze, your heart rate quickening. Slowly, you look down at your hands and body. Two large hands, covered in elaborate tattoos, stare back at you. You’re tall, looking down at an extremely unfamiliar body. You feel a strange disconnect, like your mind is piloting a machine it doesn't understand.

Quickly, you push off the shelf and head to a mirror across the room. The face staring back is worn and tired, “Holy shit!” you exclaim, yanking at your cheek. “Your bags are ginormous! And your hair is so… greasy.”

“Thanks,” the grumpy voice retorts. “Now, who are you, and why are you in control of my body?”

“I don’t remember,” you say, inspecting the body closer, lifting your arms to catch a whiff of salty seawater and raw fish. “Gods, you smell awful.”

“Hey! Focus!” the voice shouts. You roll your eyes and turn away from the mirror to investigate the room further. “What do you mean you don’t remember?”

You shrug, “I just don’t? Where are we?”

The voice sighs. “It looks like we’re in the medical bay on my ship.”

“Your ship? Are you like a pirate? And why are we in a medical bay?” you ask, flipping through a notebook on the table filled with scratchy handwriting.

“Stop going through that!” the voice orders. “And yes, this is my ship. I am the captain of the Heart Pirates. And I don’t know why we’re in the med bay.”

You slam the notebook shut, rolling your eyes. “Well, Mr. All-Knowing Captain, what do we do now?”

“If you give me control of my body, I’ll gladly try to figure that out.”

“One, I don’t even know how to give you back control, and two, if I do, who says I won’t just become trapped in the back of your head?”

“Like what you’re doing to me right now,” the voice grumbles. “It’s my body, which means I need to have control over it. Just let go of your hold, and I’ll do the rest.”

“No!” you shout, feeling the pressure in your head grow stronger as the captain tries to push against you. You grab your head and run towards the door.

“What are you doing! Just let go!” the voice shouts angrily.

“No, I can’t!” You barrel out the door and down the hall until you bump into something and was quickly thrown to the floor.

“Captain?” the figure above you asks. You look up to see a man in a white boiler suit with a killer whale hat perched on his head.

“Are you alright?” a second figure asks. You look over to see another man in a similar outfit with a penguin hat.

You push yourself up in uncoordinated movement, “Yes… Uh. I’m just fine,” you mumbles, avoiding eye contact.

The men frown. “We were just about to check on you. What happened in that cave?” the one in the whale hat asks.

“What cave?” you ask.

“We found you passed out in the cave you were supposed to investigate. Are you sure you should be up, Captain? I think we should do a concussion test.” The one with a penguin hat reaches to grab you and wave a finger in front of your face.

You quickly yank away from him. “No, no, it’s fine! Look, see?” You jump on your toes in a silly dance, nearly losing your balance again. “I’m great and in peak health.”

“Oh my gods,” the voice moans.

“Anyways! I’ve got to go! Gotta do my captainy thing and check on what’s been going on since I’ve been out,” you say with a forced smile before taking off down the hall. “Have a great day!”

You can feel the voice irritation and annoyance “Please kill me now.” he grumbles.

You finally reach the door leading to the ship’s bridge after taking many wrong turns. You jump off and onto the dock, then take off running up the village street.

“What are you doing now! Just go back and give me back control, and we can return to our normal lives,�� the voice pleads.

“No, I don’t trust them,” you state, "They're pirates."

“Well, I trust them, and if you just give me control, I can figure this out faster.”

“And your a pirate captain what makes me want to trust you anymore than them!”

The voice groans. “It’s Trafalgar Law.”

“What?”

“Trafalgar Law. That’s my name.”

As you pounder the scent of cooked food fills your nose. Your stomach immediately growls, and hunger floods your system. You moan in delight before changing your direction into the tavern the delicious smell is coming from.

“What can I get you?” the man at the bar greets.

“Whatever that delicious smell is, please,” you smile, looking behind him for the source. The man raises an eyebrow but turns to retrieve the food.

“What’s your name?” the voice asks once the man is gone.

“Uh… I… I don’t know,” you admit, a wave of confusion washing over you.

“So you have absolutely zero memory?”

“I guess.”

“So then, Nameless, what are you hoping to accomplish?”

“Don’t call me that,” you snap.

The bartender stands before you, holding a plate with a burger. He looks at you strangely as you seem to be talking to yourself. You smile sheepishly and take the plate, bringing the burger to your face.

“Don’t!” the voice shouts, and you quickly pull the burger back.

“What?” you hiss.

“Don’t eat that! It has bread on it.”

“So?”

“So! I have a severe gluten allergy! Do you want to kill us?!” he hisses.

You groan and hold up the plate, waving over the bartender. “Hi, I’m sorry, I have an allergy to bread, apparently. Can I get something else?” The man kindly takes the plate and returns to the kitchen.

“Thank you,” Law sighs in relief.

“Yeah, whatever,” you groan as your stomach growls loudly. You grab your stomach in pain and rest your head on the table. “I’m just so hungry. It feels like it’s been years since I last ate.”

“Well, it’s been at most a day for me, so you’ll live,” Law replies in a annoyed tone, “So, if you don’t want me to call you Nameless, what should I call you? Bodysnatcher?”

“I don’t know. I feel like my name started with a ‘I’ or a ‘Ish.”

“Ish? Okay, Ish, what are you trying to accomplish?”

“Accomplish? I don’t know… to get my own body or my memories back?”

“Well, the only way we can do that is by working together, and if you just give me back control, I can…”

“No!” you shout, slamming your hand on the table. Everyone looks over, confused. You lower your head, waving sheepishly. “No,” you whisper. “I can figure this out myself.” The bartender brings over some rice, which you gratefully accept, shoveling it into your mouth. The simple, bland taste is heavenly; you devour it in a few bites.

“Unlike you, I have a memory and a crew who can help us figure this out much sooner,” Law reasons.

“Exactly. You have a crew, a memory, and a body. I have nothing,” you say, fighting back a tear. “You have no reason to help me.”

Law sighs. “I promise I’ll help you. I don’t want this anymore than you do.”

“Good. And you can keep that promise from inside my head.” You stand up, pushing the empty bowl away.

You start to walk out when the bartender shouts, “Hey! You gonna pay for that?”

You freeze and dig through your pockets, finding only lint. “Shit,” you mumble.

“Run!” Law orders, and you push your way out the door. You look left and see Law’s crew, all wearing matching white boiler suits, walking up the street.

“Hey! Captain, wait up!” the giant walking polar bear shouts when they spot you. Your eyes widen, and you take off in the other direction. “Wait, Captain!” The crew starts running after you.

“Why the hell is that polar bear walking?!” you shout as you sprint away.

“His name is Bepo. He’s my first mate,” Law explains.

“That doesn’t explain how he’s walking,” you complain as your strides lengthen, and you glide through the streets at an unbelievable speed. “Damn, your legs are so long,” you comment.

“Hey! Stop!” a new voice shouts from behind. You whip your head around and see a Marine now chasing you as well.

“Shit,” Law groans. “Give me control now!”

“No!” you shout, ducking between crowds of people. Suddenly, a sword swipes towards your head. You drop to the floor at the last second barely missing the blade. You look up to see an angry Marine standing over you, sword raised to attack again.

“Ish, give me control and I’ll take care of them!” Law shouts, his voice edged with panic.

The Marine’s sword swings downward towards your head, but you roll out of the way, pushing yourself up only to be faced with another Marine, this one with a musket pointed at you. You raise your hands in fear. “Fine!” you shout and close your eyes.

When Law’s eyes reopened, they shifted to yellow and a smirk took over his face. With a quick wave of a hand a a mumble of the word, “Room”, a blue sphere encapsulated the area. With another wave, all the items on the ground floated upwards, then dashed around inside the sphere.

Both Civilians and Marines screamed as they dodged the flying debris. Law dropped to the ground and swept his leg under the Marine in front of him, sending him sprawling. He grabbed the musket out of his hand and threw it behind him, hitting the Marine with the sword. That Marine, in turn, dropped his sword as the musket connected with his face, and he fell. Smoothly, Law caught the sword mid-air and stood upright. He cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders, acclimating to his body again. He took a deep breath, another smirk growing on his face, and then he twirled the sword in a wild, rapid series of movements.

When he stopped, he stood proudly. All the Marines began screaming as their body parts became detached, flying through the air. They entered a swirling cyclone of mismatched limbs. Law twisted his fingers again and the blue sphere vanished, causing the flying debris crashed to the ground. The Marines, now a comical jumble of parts, took off running as best they could as a pile of mixed limps

“Captain!” a voice cried before Law was engulfed in a hug and was lifted off the ground.

Law groaned, “Bepo, put me down.”

The polar bear complied. “Sorry, Captain. Penguin and Shachi said you were acting weird, and then you started running away from us,” he whined.

Law rubbed the back of his neck. “I just momentarily forgot where I was. I’m fine now. Sorry to worry you,” he said, turning back toward the ship waving his hand. “I’ll be in my office. I have some things to work out.”

Law returned to his office, closing the door behind him. He walked to the mirror and leaned in, looking into his own yellow eyes. “Ish?” he called.

“What,” your voice echoed back, tinged with sadness. “You got what you wanted. You’re back in control.”

“Look, I made a promise to help you, and I plan on keeping it, but only if we do this my way.”

“Which means I’ll be trapped inside here while you run around doing whatever you want,” you pout.

“We’ll figure this out together. I promise I won’t do anything unless we both agree, until we get you into your own body with your memories back.”

“Is that why you didn’t tell your crew?”

Law nodded. “You don’t trust them yet, and I get that, but I promise we can trust them.”

“I don’t like being trapped here. It’s cold and feels empty,” you whine.

Law sighs. “Fine. I’ll give you control whenever we’re in this office, but outside of it, I’ll stay in control.”

“And when we’re eating!” you ask excitedly.

Law groans, rubbing his hand over his face. “Fine.”

“Then we have a deal.” Law closed his eyes, then snapped them open again, revealing your blue eyes. You smiled brightly.

Law’s hand glides over the stone walls of the cave, gently analyzing the grooves and texture.

“This is where Shachi said they found me, thirty minutes after I went in,” he thinks aloud. “It took at least ten minutes to walk from the entrance to this point, so that leaves twenty minutes unaccounted for.”

“Now that we’re far from the crew, can I take control again?” you groan in his head.

He rolls his eyes. “I already told you, no. Our deal is you have control in the office and while eating, and I have control the rest of the time.”

“But it’s so…”

“Cold and empty, I know!” he cuts you off, his voice tight with impatience. “Look, I need to be in control right now. Because if something happens, I need to use my powers to get us out safely. “

You huff in reply as he continues down the dimly lit cave. “Looks like I was fighting something?” he ponders, running his fingers over a deep, Sword-like slashes dug into the wall.

“Are you sure I just looks like very intense game of tic-tac-toe to me,” you snicker in his head.

He rolls his eyes, pulling out his sword and comparing the marks with the movements he would have made. “I was throwing my sword rather chaotically, and I don’t think I made contact, seeing how the walls seem to have taken the brunt of my swings.”

“Or maybe you were just showing off. You know, ‘Look how strong I am!’ Slash! ‘Look how cool I am!’ Slash! Slash!’” You giggle at your own joke as he continues to ignore you. You pout, a flicker of annoyance in your thoughts. “Fine… you were fighting something invisible. Does that bring back any memories?”

He shakes his head. “unfortunately not”

You sigh. “Do you at least remember why you were in this cave?”

“Shachi said it was because I was getting weird feelings from the cave.” He explained moving deeper in the cave.

“I know. I was there for that conversation, remember?” you say in a duh tone.

He sighs in annoyance. “Okay, well, what about you? Clearly, this all started in this cave. Do you remember anything? Recognize anything?”

You ponder for a moment. “Nope!” you pop, earning a groan from him.

“Well, this cave has to have some answers. We just have to keep looking.”

“Or… we go back to the ship and see what Shachi’s cooking for dinner!” you offer, a bubble of humor in your voice.

“What is it with you and food?” he questions as he walks deeper into the cave. “Shachi’s food isn’t even that good. It’s barely edible and all he makes are rice balls.”

“I just feel like I haven’t eaten in years.”

“Well, you literally ate an hour ago, much to my embarrassment,” he shivers as he thinks back to the moment when you were in control, shoving food down his throat before asking everyone on the crew if you could have the rest of their meal. His stomach still groans from being so full.

“Whatever.”

Law elected to ignore you as he tried to adjust his eyes to see deeper into the dark cave. Suddenly, a small bat flies at him. He throws his arm up, swatting at the bat as it dances around his head. “Get the fuck away.”

“Hey, leave it alone.” He continues to swat at the bat, ignoring you. “Hey, I mean it! Stop that!”

“I’ll stop when it leaves me alone!” He then makes contact with the bat, and it flies off squeaking.

Your stomach drops, and you are overwhelmed with a sense of fear, “Law… run,” you whisper, your voice trembling.

“What?” he asks, confused.

“Run! Now!” you yell, your voice laced with terror.

He turns to run as a roar echoes down the cave, and the sound of large, beating wings propels him forward. “What the hell is that?!” he shouts as his stride lengthens.

“It’s Mother,” you state, your voice filled with dread.

He turns his head to see a giant bat that fills the entire cave and is three times the size of him. The bat’s back legs are extended, ready to claw him, and it’s gaining ground quickly, nearly on his heels.

“Slide to the left!” you ordered.

He obeys, dropping to the ground and sliding into a small opening to the left. The bat’s claws scratch at the edge of the opening as he shifts deeper into cover. After another foot, the top of the cave opens up, allowing him to stand and catch his breath.

“What the hell was that?!” he pants, his heart pounding in his chest. “And how did you know about her and this hiding spot?”

“I don’t know. I just felt a wave of déjà vu. Like I’ve witnessed that scenario many times,” you ponder, your brow furrowed.

“Interesting.” He puts his hand to his chin in thought as he looks to see that the cave splits into two direction. “Well, do you have any déjà vu on how to get out of here?”

“Maybe, if I had control, I think I could figure it out.”

He groans. “Fine, but as soon as we’re out, I’m taking back control.” He closes his eyes tightly, and when they open, they’d shifted to your blue eyes.

A smile quickly overtakes the grumpy face. You stretch, getting familiar with controlling the body again. “Alright, this feels better already!” you laugh, popping your knuckles.

“Will you stop that! I’d rather not get arthritis,” he groans in your head.

“That’s just a myth, you baby,” you roll your eyes before starting to walk down the tunnel. You quickly pause, a weird feeling washing over you, as if something was telling you not to go down there. You spin around, heading the other way.

“You better be able to get us out of here in a decent time,” he says, his voice laced with impatience.

“Can you just say something nice, or say ‘please’?” you sigh.

He groans. “Fine… can you please get us out of here on time?”

You smirk. “Thank you. Yes, Law, I’ll do my best to get us out of here on time.” You then disappear into the cave. “Besides, the sooner we get out, the sooner we can eat!”

He groans as you laugh, skipping down the cave.

You found your way out of the cave with ease and no further trouble. Now you’re sitting in the back of Law’s mind as he leads a meeting with his crew.

“This is so boring…“ you moan.

“Be quiet,” he hisses under his breath, covering his mouth with his hand as he leans back in his chair while his crew discusses.

“But I’m bored.”

“That’s not my problem.”

“Captain?” a voice asks, gaining Law’s attention. He shakes his head and sits up.

“Yes, Ikkaku? Sorry, what was the problem?” he asks.

“Ku,” you mindlessly correct.

“What?” He shifts his head away from the crew, hissing at you.

“I’m sorry, Captain?” The woman in front of him asks, looking confused.

He shakes his head. “Sorry. Continue.”

Ikkaku nods, turning back to the board with a map of the North Blue. “I was saying, in order for us to get to the Grand Line, I’ll need to upgrade the engine to make it through the Calm Belt. The island we’re on doesn’t have the parts I need, but this island and this island should,” she points to two islands. “Both are within range, but deciding which one we go to will determine where we start on the Grand Line.”

“We’re going to find my body before you go to the Grand Line, right?” you ask, worry now lacing your voice.

Law sits back in thought. “Bepo, what do you think?” he asks.

The polar bear sitting next to him sits up. “If we go to Island One, we’ll start further back on the Grand Line. But if we go to Island Two, we’d start in more dangerous parts with no experience.”

“Yeah, but we can handle it!” Shachi slams his hand on the table excitedly. Penguin agrees, nodding enthusiastically.

Law holds up a hand to silence them. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Starting further back on the Grand Line isn’t ideal, but it would give us more experience,” he reasons.

“I also have a reliable source that says the parts we need WILL be on Island One,” Ikkaku states.

He pushes himself out of his chair. “Then it’s settled. We’ll head out to Island One, where Ikkaku can get the parts, and then we’ll head straight to the Grand Line.”

Everyone in the room nods, standing and filing out.

“Law?” you question. “We are going to figure this problem out first, right?”

He turns, facing the porthole. “Yes, Ish, we’ll figure this out first,” he says quietly.

“Captain?”

He turns to find Ikkaku standing beside him, looking puzzled.

“Yes, Ikkaku?”

“Ku.”

He frowns at the sound of your voice in his head, and Ikkaku raises an eyebrow.

“Are you alright, Captain? You’ve been acting weird.”

He relaxes his face and nods. “Yes, I’m fine.”

Ikkaku smiles and give a nod, “Good because when we enter the grand line we can’t come back.”

“Can’t come back! Law we need more time to figure this out.” You whine in a panic.

Law frowns in thought before letting out a long sigh “You know what Ikkaku you’re right something weird is going on and we might have to push back leaving this island.”

Ikkaku looks puzzled, “Is there anything I can help with?”

Law grabs the hat off his head before combing his fingers through his hair, “Maybe. Have you ever been called ‘Ku’?”

Ikkaku’s breath hitches. A flicker of pain crosses her face before she schools her features into a neutral expression. She lets out a small, shaky breath. “Captain,” she says, her voice barely a whisper, “I forgave you a long time ago…but some things still hurt.”

He looks down at the woman, confused, his eyes darting around, searching for answers, but he can’t find a response. “What do you mean?” he ask.

Ikkaku scoffs turning around but Law quickly grabbed her arm “Who used to call you Ku?” he spoke strongly, his eyes filled with a desperate plea and determination

Ikkaku yanks her arm out of his grip, “I don’t know what you’re playing at, Captain, but I don’t like it. You know it was my sister, and what you did to her.”

Law’s jaw dropped, his eyes widening in shock. “Your… sister… Ish?” He spoke to you looking for answers from you.

“Sister?” you repeated, confused and in shock.

Law grips his hair, “Ikkaku, I’m very sorry for anything I’ve done,” he said, his voice thick with guilt, “but I don’t remember and I need your help. Two days ago, after I went into that cave, I woke up, and there was this voice in my head, and I wasn’t in control of my own body. Ever since then, I’ve been sharing my body with another, and I think they’re your sister. They don’t have any memories of their past, but I’ve been calling them Ish.”

Ikkaku looked alarmed at Law’s confession, her emotions shifting as she tried to understand what he was saying. “Can you prove it?”

Law nodded. “Ish, can you come out?” he asked.

“NO! I’m scared,” you admitted, the words barely a whisper. “What if I’m not her sister? What if she hates me? What if I scare her?”

“Ish, you won’t know until you come out,” Law reasoned, his voice gentle.

“Can you ask nicely?”

Law groaned, rubbing his hand over his face. “Ish, can you please come out?”

“Okay. But you’ll still be here?”

Law rolled his eyes. “Where else would I be?”

He closed his eyes tightly, and when they opened, they revealed your blue eyes. Ikkaku gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. Recognition instantly flooded her as she look into your eyes

You took a deep breath, your hands fidgeting nervously. Your posture slumped slightly, mirroring a weariness that seemed to settle over the body. You lifted a hand and gave a soft wave. “Hi.”

Ikkaku jumped up and grabbed your face, yanking it towards her. “Isra?” She scanned your eyes as you looked back at her, wide-eyed.

“Isra? Yes, Yes that’s my name!” you shout in excitement feeling as if a fog has been slightly lifted.

Ikkaku’s eyes began to tear up as she pulled your head into her shoulder, wrapping her arms around you tightly. “What happened to you?” She asked.

You pushed away gently, a flicker of confusion in your eyes. “I don’t know, but I have a lot of questions.”

Ikkaku sighed, wiping at her eyes, "So do I." She pulled out the chair law was sitting on during the meeting before sinking into it.

"What happened to me?" you asked as you leaned against the table, the wood cold against your skin.

"You… Captain… you really don't remember?" Ikkaku questioned in shock. You shook your head biting your lip.

Ikkaku sighed again, a long, drawn-out sound filled with grief. "Ten years ago… Captain was just a kid. He was always with Shachi, Penguin, and Bepo. You were… you were ran Papa's fabric stand." Her voice caught in her throat. "One day Shachi… he stole something. Papa told you if you let him steal any more from the stand he would have to stop getting your favorite snack so you chased after him.” She smiled slightly at the thought. “When captain saw he went to defend shachi,” Ikkaku's breath hitched. "Law… he didn't.. He didn’t fully understand his powers yet. So when he went to defend Shachi… Something went wrong and you collapse.. He didn’t mean to but…" Tears streamed down her face.

You reached out, your hand finding hers, offering comfort even as you felt a growing unease within yourself.

"They… they took you to the hospital after they realized what they did," Ikkaku managed, her voice choked with sobs.

"You've been in that hospital in a coma ever since," Ikkaku finished, her voice choked with emotion.

Your gaze remained distant, your mind struggling to grasp her story, “Law?” you whispered, a chill creeping up your spine as he remained silent. “You did this?” The accusation hung in the air, heavy with unspoken fear. You sank to the ground, “Law!” you cried, anger and desperation fueling your voice.

“In the cave,” he whispered, his voice strained, as his memories clawed their way to the surface.

“In the cave, what?!” you demanded. “I need answers!” You grabbed your head trying to pull him to answers, “Did you do this to me!” Law remained cold as his thought swarmed him trying to remember. “Law please, answer me!” You plead.

Ikkaku placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Can I talk to him?” she asked gently.

You looked up, met her reassuring gaze, and nodded. You closed your eyes, bracing yourself. When you opened them, they were Law's, his eyes filled with a haunted pain.

“Ikkaku, I’m sorry,” he said, his voice thick with remorse, his shoulders slumping slightly. “I didn’t… How did I forget that. I… Ikkaku, I’m sorry.”

Ikkaku, her expression softening, placed her hand over his shoulder. “Captain, I know, but I need you to focus. I almost have my sister back please. What happened in the cave?”

Law grabbed his head, his fingers digging into his temples as he squinted, struggling to grasp the elusive memories. The images became clearer, “The cave… there was a voice. It was Ish. She was screaming at me.” His breath hitched. “And then I saw… a glowing orb. No… a soul. It was Ish’s soul. She was screaming at me, saying it was my fault, that I did that to her.” His voice trembled. “The soul came towards me, and I tried to fight it off but it… if flew into me.” He looked at his chest placing. hand over it. “That was your soul… That day... Ten years ago... I kicked your soul out of your body.” His voice was barely a whisper, filled with horror. “That’s why you went into a coma. Your soul flew off. It ended in that cave.” A shudder ran through him. “Room!”

A blue sphere expanded around Law, the familiar hum of his power filling the air. He concentrated on the feeling in his chest, the echo of Isra's soul, the connection that still lingered. A blue, glowing sphere, pulsing with energy, began to materialize, slowly pulling out of Law’s chest and into his outstretched hand. It was you, or at least, the essence of you.

“What is happening?!” you shrieked, panic seizing you as you felt yourself wrenched from the familiar warmth of Law’s mind, “Law, stop! I don’t like this!” A wave of icy dread washed over you as you felt the cold air, the familiar, terrifying nothingness closing in. “Stop Please!” You beg you voice cracking with desperation.

Law, his face set with determination, ignored your cries and continued to pull at the glowing orb, his movements precise and deliberate, until it popped free from his chest and rested in his outstretched hand, pulsing with a faint blue light.

The world around you dissolved into a hazy, echoing blur. Sounds became distant and muffled, as if you were underwater. You could sense the space around you, the faint warmth of Ikkaku’s presence, but your vision was gone, replaced by an unsettling, formless awareness. You faintly heard Ikkaku’s voice, a distant echo calling your name. “Ku?”

Ikkaku looked up at Law, her brow furrowed with confusion.

“Ish?” Law asked, his voice laced with concern, his gaze fixed on the orb in his hand. “Are you okay?”

“No! I’m not ok!” you screamed, your voice a disembodied wail, the cold and emptiness intensifying, pressing in on you from all sides. You felt yourself drawn upwards, pulling you towards Law’s face. “What did you do to me?!” you cried, your voice filled with terror.

“What is she saying?” Ikkaku asked, her brow furrowed in confusion. Instead of hearing your voice all she could hear was the sound of wispy chimes.

“She’s not happy,” Law explained, his voice strained, as he leaned back slightly from the orb, as if trying to distance himself from your distress. “Ish, I needed to prove my theory right.”

“Theory?!” you shrieked, your voice laced with accusation and fear. “You didn’t know what would happen when you did this! You ripped me out! What if I died!”

“You didn’t die beside this is a good thing!” Law said, his voice calm but firm, trying to reason with you as you hovered closer to his face. “It means we know where your body is, and we know how to return you to it.”

“I feel as good as dead!” you wailed, your voice filled with despair. “I’m just an orb again! Why are you constantly attacking me and my life?!” You drifted downwards, a sense of hopelessness washing over you, and floated towards the door. “You know what? I don’t need you anymore. I can figure this out myself.”

“Shit, Ish, don’t!” Law shouted, reaching after you, his hand outstretched, but he ended up crashing into the door as you passed through it, leaving him stumbling.

“Where is she going?” Ikkaku asked, running over to Law and helping him up, her eyes wide with worry.

“I don’t know,” Law groaned, rubbing his shoulder, before swinging the door open. They looked down the hall to see the blue orb floating away, disappearing around a corner.

They jumped out of the room and chased after the orb, but it was moving fast. Law led the way, rushing into the wall the orb had just disappeared into. He quickly pushed off the wall, ducking around the corner to the room the wall led to. “Ish!” Law shouted into the room, only to see the blue orb disappear into the next wall, a mocking flash of blue. Law groaned, frustration building, before taking off down the hall again.

Shachi and Penguin stood in the hall, watching in confusion as a mysterious blue orb floated past them, quickly followed by their frantic captain shouting at it to stop, and Ikkaku hot on his heels. They shrugged and turned the other way, minding their own business. “Shachi!” their captain shouted, stopping them in their tracks. “I need some rice balls, now!” The captain ordered before disappearing around a corner.

“Rice balls?!” Ikkaku questioned his wild request, her voice laced with disbelief.

“Trust me!” Law shouted as they barreled down the hall. “Ish, come back!”

"Why should I?" You shouted, your voice echoing in his head, laced with hurt and anger. "You did this to me! This is all your fault!"

"I know, I'm sorry," he pleaded, his voice laced with desperation, "but let me make this right."

"I don't want your help anymore!"

"Ish, please! Don't do this to Ikkaku again," he begged, his voice cracking slightly, the image of Ikkaku's tear-streaked face flashing in his mind as she screamed at him in front of the hospital.

"It's ISRA! And I didn't do this to Ikkaku. YOU did!" You paused, hovering near Law's face, the coldness of your form brushing against his skin. Law, seizing the opportunity, threw his hand up, gripping the orb tightly. You felt the slight pressure, the familiar sensation of being contained returning, a wave of claustrophobia washing over you.

"Ha! Got you!" Law celebrated, a triumphant grin spreading across his face.

“If I had eyes right now, I would roll them,” you thought, before you faded out of his hand, the pressure easing, the cold emptiness returning, a familiar and unwelcome sensation.

"Shit, Isra, stop, I'm sorry," Law said, approaching cautiously, his voice laced with a renewed sense of desperation. "I promise we'll head straight to your body, and then you never have to see me again," he reasoned as you floated in front of him.

"Captain!" Shachi turned the corner, a plate piled high with rice balls in his hands. "I got those rice balls you asked for." You looked over before immediately flying over to them, a desperate craving taking hold. "What the hell is this?" Shachi questioned as you tried to interact with the rice balls, but only found yourself floating through the plate, the delicious food taunting you from just out of reach.

You let out a frustrated cry, a desperate longing for the taste and texture of the rice balls as hungry fills your system. You lunged at them again and again, but your formless self slipped right through, leaving you with nothing but the phantom taste on your tongue. "I can't even taste them!" you wailed.

"Isra," Law said, approaching cautiously. "If you come back, you can eat those rice balls. And we'll return you to your own body, and you can eat as many rice balls as you like." He held out a hand, palm up, a silent invitation.

You hesitated, the scent of the rice balls taunting you, the memory of their taste a distant but powerful draw. The sadness of your current state washed over you, the frustration of being so close yet so far from your goal. "I told you to stop," you whispered, the words filled with a quiet despair. "I told you I didn't like it, and you did it anyway."

"I know, and I'm sorry," Law replied, his voice contrite. "I promise I won't do it again, and we'll bring you straight to your body."

"How can I trust that when you couldn't even keep your second promise?" you challenged, your voice laced with hurt.

"My sceond promise?" Law asked, his brow furrowed.

"You promised you wouldn't do anything unless we both agreed!" you shouted, the frustration bubbling over. "I should have never trusted a pirate."

Law flinched, "You're right," he admitted, his voice low. "I was selfish and impatient. I'm sorry. If you come back, I won't do it again, and you can have as many rice balls as you like until we get you back to your body."

"Can you at least say please?" you asked, a hint of playfulness creeping into your voice.

Law rolled his eyes, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Please, Isra, will you come back?"

"Deal!" you shouted, the word echoing in his mind, the promise of food and the hope of returning to your body outweighing your lingering doubts. You flew into Law's chest, the familiar warmth and solidity of his body a welcome sensation, a stark contrast to the cold emptiness you'd just experienced.

Law took a deep breath, the shift in his posture subtle but noticeable, and his eyes reopened, revealing your eye color. He quickly lunged at the plate Shachi was holding, shoving two rice balls into his face, the taste and texture a burst of sensory overload.

Shachi stepped back, shocked, leaning over to Ikkaku, who was leaning against the wall, catching her breath, a mixture of amusement and bewilderment on her face. “What the hell is going on?” Shachi whispered, his voice laced with confusion, and Ikkaku just laughed at the sheer absurdity of everything, the relief of having her sister back outweighing the strangeness of the situation.

“That’s Isra,” she bubbled, her voice filled with warmth.

“Isra? Your sister? How?” Shachi looked between the captain and his differently colored eyes and contrasting posture to the captain he knew, trying to reconcile the familiar face with the unfamiliar behavior.

Luckily, your home island was on the way to the island the Heart Pirates were heading, and Law and Ikkaku were able to get you there by the next day.

Ikkaku stood next to Law as they approached the hospital, a place they had visited countless times. They moved through the hallway, the route ingrained in their muscle memory. The two paused in front of the door to your room.

“Isra, are you ready?” Law asked, his hand hovering over the doorknob.

“I think so,” you replied, your voice barely a whisper, the sound trembling slightly in the quiet hallway. “Can I take control first? I want to see it first.”

Law nodded, closing his eyes briefly before reopening them, revealing your blue eyes to Ikkaku. A nervous tremor ran through your hands as you gripped the door knob, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs. “You okay?” Ikkaku asked, her voice soft with concern, her eyes searching yours. her hand reached for your gripping it tightly in reassurance.

You nodded slowly, your gaze fixed on the closed door, "I'm...scared," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "What if it doesn't feel...right? What if it feels...wrong?"

“What do you mean? It your body,” Ikkaku said, her brow furrowing slightly.

“I mean…” You hesitated, your fingers tightening around Ikkaku’s hand. “I’ve gotten so used to Law’s body… what if it feels different? What if it hurts?” The thought of inhabiting a body so long dormant sent a shiver down your spine. “What if it feels… lonely?”

“Lonely?” Ikkaku questioned, her voice gentle.

“Well, Law and I shared the same headspace and thoughts for the past four days,” you explained, your voice barely above a whisper. “What if… I don’t know. I miss him.” The admission hung in the air, a fragile and unexpected confession.

“Miss me? Isra, it’s not like I’m going away,” Law said, a hint of amusement laced his tone.

“I know, but…” You sighed, your gaze dropping to the floor. “I know it’s stupid, but… I still don’t have my memories, and sharing your head has been all I’ve known.” You fidgeted with the doorknob, your knuckles white, the cold metal a stark contrast to the warmth of Ikkaku’s hand.

“Are you talking with the captain?” Ikkaku asked, and you nodded, a silent acknowledgment of the constant presence in your mind.

“Ish, when you enter your body, your memories should come back,” Law reassured, his voice gentle and patient. “And if not, then you get to make new memories on your own, without me.”

“But what if I don’t want to?” you whispered, a flicker of fear in your eyes.

“Want to what?” Law asked, his brow furrowed.

“Make memories without you.” The words were out before you could stop them, a raw and honest expression of your vulnerability.

Law sighed, a soft sound that conveyed both understanding and a touch of sadness. “Isra, when you get into your own body, you can make your own decisions and make memories with whoever you like, including me.” he explained, his voice gentle and reassuring.

“You promise?” you asked, your eyes searching his, seeking reassurance.

“Yes, I promise,” Law said, his voice firm and unwavering.

You nodded and turned the doorknob. The room was smaller than you expected, filled with the hushed hum of machines and the faint, lingering scent of antiseptic. You hesitated, your breath catching in your throat.

On the bed, a body lay still. Your body.

But it didn’t feel like yours. It was… a shell. A long-forgotten vessel. Your hair, a tangled mess, spilled over the pillow, far longer than you would have thought. Your skin, pale and almost translucent, seemed stretched too tightly over your bones. You looked… fragile. Broken. A wave of dizziness washed over you. Was this really you?

Ikkaku moved beside you, her presence a comforting anchor in the swirling confusion. She walked around the bed, her movements familiar, practiced. She sat down and lifted the hand of the body into her own hands.

You stepped closer, drawn by an invisible pull. You hovered above the bed, your gaze taking in every detail of the face that was both yours and yet not yours. You reached out, your fingers brushing against your cheek. The skin felt… strange. Soft. Vulnerable. A flicker of recognition stirred within you, a whisper of something familiar in the midst of the overwhelming foreignness.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the frantic beating of your heart. “Okay, Law. I’m ready.” You closed your eyes to allow Law to take back control.

Law's presence was immediately apparent, a sense of focused power that hadn't been there before. He raised his hand, the familiar blue light of his Room shimmering into existence.

He placed his hand over his chest, his fingers finding the spot where your soul had resided. He concentrated, drawing upon the remaining connection, the faint echo of your presence. A warmth spread through his chest, a tingling sensation that grew stronger as the orb began to materialize, pulled from his very being.

The orb, pulsating with a vibrant blue light, emerged slowly, its radiance intensifying until it became blinding surge of energy, Law and Ikkaku, raised their hands to shield themselves from the overwhelming light.

When the light finally subsided, leaving lingering spots in their vision, the orb was gone, vanished without a trace, leaving only the memory of its brilliant glow.

“Where’d she go?” Ikkaku questioned, her voice laced with rising panic as she frantically scanned the room. Your body remained unnervingly still on the bed, the only sound the rhythmic hiss of the machines.

“Give it a second,” Law said, his voice strained, a flicker of worry in his eyes. He leaned over, his touch gentle as he took your other hand in his, his fingers wrapping around yours. He cupped your cheek with his other hand, his thumb lightly brushing against your skin. “Isra, it’s time to wake up,” he murmured, his voice soft yet urgent.

You lay unresponsive, your face pale and still. Law gave a few small taps to your cheek, his touch becoming slightly more insistent.

“What if it wasn’t her?” Ikkaku whispered, tears welling in her eyes, her voice choked with fear.

“It was her,” Law insisted, his voice firm, though a knot of unease tightened in his stomach. “She just needs to wake up.” His hand shifted to your forehead, his fingers pressing against your skin, feeling for any sign of warmth, any flicker of life.

Suddenly, the heart rate monitor shrieked, a piercing wail that made Law jump back, his heart leaping into his throat.

“What’s happening?!” Ikkaku cried, her voice cracking with panic as she jumped up, her eyes wide with terror. Your body began to convulse, shaking the bed violently, the crisp white sheets twisting beneath you.

Law quickly pinned your shoulders to the bed, trying to stabilize you. “Her body is rejecting the soul,” he stated, his voice tight with fear.

“What does that mean?!” Ikkaku cried, her voice breaking as she held down your legs, her knuckles white against your skin.

“It means her body has been lying here too long without a soul,” Law explained, his voice strained. “It doesn’t remember what it feels like. Isra, you need to take control! Remind your body what it’s like to have a soul!” he shouted over the escalating beeps of the monitor, “It’s your body. You need to take control of it!” He leaned closer, his voice filled with determination, “Feel yourself, Isra. Push to the front. Feel your nerves. You are in control.”

Your body slowly stopped convulsing, the violent tremors gradually subsiding, leaving you still and breathless. Your eyelids flickered, then snapped open. Law and Ikkaku, their breaths held tight, released their hold on your body. You snapped forward, quickly taking a deep, gasping breath, your chest heaving as your lungs filled with fresh air for the first time in years. Law’s arms, instinctively outstretched, catching you before you fell, his body trembling slightly with relief. You leaned against his chest, your own body shaking, your senses slowly returning, the world around you coming back into focus.

“Isra,” Law called, his touch was gentle as he pushed your shoulders back to get a better view of you. “How do you feel?”

You leaned back further, your gaze drifting down to your hand, your fingers curling and uncurling, marveling at the familiar yet foreign sensation. The skin felt soft, delicate, yours, yet so different from the calloused hands you’d become accustomed to in Law’s body. Your gaze shifted to Ikkaku, who was sitting patiently, tears streaming silently down her face, her expression a mixture of relief and overwhelming joy. “Ku?” Your voice was scratchier than you remembered, and much higher pitched than what you were used to speaking with in Law’s voice, a strange and unsettling feeling, as if someone else were speaking through you.

Ikkaku, unable to contain her emotions any longer, jumped onto the bed and into your arms, hugging you tightly, a wave of warmth radiating from her. You wrapped your arms around her, feeling her warm body against yours, the simple physical contact a wave of comfort, a return to the familiar.

You peeked over her shoulder to see Law standing relieved above you, a soft smile playing on his lips. You reached out a hand, your movements still a little shaky, a silent invitation for him to join the embrace. He took your hand, his grip reassuring, his touch warm. “Isra, do you remember anything?”

Ikkaku pulled away slightly, her eyes filled with anticipation, eager to hear your answer.

You sighed, a small, weary sound, trying to think back, your brow furrowing in concentration. “I don’t remember much,” you admitted, your voice still rough. “Mostly… feeling cold. In that cave.” But… it wasn’t just the cold. It was the emptiness, the isolation, the feeling of being adrift. “But I don’t feel blocked from my memories like before,” you added, a flicker of hope in your eyes. “Most of my memories are just… that cave.”

Law nodded, understanding dawning in his eyes. “You were in that cave for Ten years,” he reminded you gently. “So that makes sense. The rest should come back to you eventually.”

You nodded slowly, leaning back into the bed, your body sinking into the soft mattress, a feeling of exhaustion washing over you. You fidgeted with the sheets, the cool fabric a welcome sensation against your skin, a flicker of unease still lingering in your eyes. “Yeah, probably.”

“How are you feeling?” Law repeated his first question, leaning over, his gaze warm and concerned.

“Hungry,” you complained, a small smile tugging at your lips as you grabbed your stomach, a familiar pang of hunger gnawing at you.

Law chuckled, a hint of amusement in his voice, and gently began removing the wires and tubes that had tethered you to the machines. “Well, let’s get you out of here and to the mess hall,” he said, his gaze warm and inviting.

You smiled as Law helped you out of bed. Your legs felt weak, your muscles ached from years of inactivity. You stumbled, your feet struggling to hold your weight after so long lying still, the world tilting slightly beneath you. “Can Shachi make rice balls?” you asked.

Law shook his head, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “Yes, Shachi can make rice balls,” he confirmed. Law smiled as he slid under your left side, while Ikkaku slid under your right, and they walked you out of the room, supporting your unsteady steps, their presence a comforting reassurance.

As you exited the room, a nurse spotted you, her eyes widening in alarm. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could utter a word, Law scooped you up into his arms, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “And that our que to leave!”. He took off running down the hallway, with Ikkaku hot on his heels leaving the nurse sputtering in surprise, her words trailing off into the distance.

A/N: Thank you for reading if you made it to this point you may like some of my other works so check out my Master List. I will probably be reworking my other stories like this soon to both edit the work and to shorten the stories in a more digestible way.

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