#not to mention that in the game creatures could come up from behind you and vice versa

[apocalyptic-dancehall]

i think my stealth mission fears came about when i played ni no kuni and got to hamelin. like that shit with the guards is immortalized in my brain

[gyuuberryy]

from foe to forever

pairing: prince!jake x pirate!reader, ft jungwon

synopsis: when prince jake’s wild behaviour leads to his capture by you, a daring pirate, you think it's just another ransom job. but as jake discovers the excitement of life at sea, your initial plans start to unravel. amidst adventure and unexpected feelings, both of you must navigate a complex web of desires and duties, ultimately facing a choice that could transform your lives forever.

genre: enemies to lovers, adventure, humour??

warnings: suggestive content!! kissing, drinking, bratty!jake, reader is mean at first(she's a pirate so duh) but character development trust! , kidnapping, pirate behaviour, constant mentions of being thrown overboard, looting, a bad storm, angst

note: i went overboard with the writing because i just love this plot so much! and my love for strong female leads also fuelled this hehe. enjoyy~

word count: 22.2k(sorry!)

royally yours masterlist | prev:jay | next:sunghoon

if you liked it please reblog or comment to give me your feedback! <3

the scent of saltwater and the faint hum of night creatures drift through the open windows of the castle’s grand hall, mingling with the rich perfume of flowers and candle wax. but despite the setting’s elegance, the tension in the air is palpable.

“you will marry her, jake,” the king says, his voice a low, commanding rumble that reverberates through the vast chamber. “the alliance with her kingdom will secure our borders and ensure peace. this is not up for debate.”

jake’s heart pounds in his chest, anger and frustration boiling over. “it’s always about the kingdom, isn’t it?” he snaps, his voice cracking under the strain of suppressed emotion. “what about what i want? have you ever thought about that?”

the king’s eyes harden, his mouth pressing into a thin line. “what you want is irrelevant. you are a prince. you have duties, responsibilities—”

“duties?” jake interrupts, his voice rising. “you mean being a pawn in your political games? i’m a person, not a piece on a chessboard!”

“enough!” the king’s shout echoes off the stone walls, silencing the room. the courtiers and advisors standing along the edges glance away, uncomfortable witnesses to the familial strife. “you will do as you are told, or you will be stripped of your title. is that what you want?”

jake’s breath hitches, the threat striking deep. but instead of backing down, it fuels his rage. he turns sharply, storming out of the hall without another word, the heavy doors slamming shut behind him.

he needs to get out. away from the suffocating expectations, away from the life that feels like a gilded cage closing in around him. without a second thought, he heads for the stables, saddles his horse, and rides hard toward the port.

the port is alive with activity, even at this late hour. lanterns flicker along the docks, casting dancing shadows over crates and barrels stacked haphazardly on the cobblestone streets. the mingling scents of saltwater, fish, and the faint aroma of cooking food fill the air, blending with the murmur of voices and the occasional shout.

jake dismounts, his legs unsteady beneath him, and stumbles toward the nearest tavern. he pushes through the door, the sudden warmth and noise hitting him like a wave. the place is packed with sailors, merchants, and travellers, all jostling for space at the bar or crammed around rough wooden tables.

he makes his way to the counter, slamming a few coins down with a defiant thud. “wine,” he orders, his voice clipped, already half-regretting coming here. but the thought of returning to the castle, to the cold, judgmental eyes of his father, is unbearable.

the bartender, an older man with a weary expression, gives him a sceptical look before pouring a generous glass of deep red wine. jake downs it in one gulp, the liquid burning a path down his throat and settling like a lead weight in his stomach. he signals for another.

it doesn’t take long for the alcohol to take hold, dulling the edges of his anger, turning his thoughts sluggish and blurred. he drinks more, his head buzzing, the world tilting and swaying around him. the tavern becomes a haze of laughter and music, the faces around him blurring into a confusing swirl.

jake stands, the room spinning as he lurches toward the door. he needs air. the port outside is cooler, the breeze off the water sharp against his flushed skin. he staggers down the street, past warehouses and shipyards, the distant calls of sailors and the creak of wooden hulls filling the night.

he’s barely aware of his surroundings, his thoughts a tangled mess. his father’s voice, cold and unyielding, echoes in his mind. you will do as you are told. 

his grip tightens around the empty bottle in his hand, a surge of bitterness rising in his chest. what’s the point of being a prince if he has no freedom, no say in his own life?

a sharp laugh escapes him, bitter and hollow, as he sways dangerously close to the edge of the dock, peering down at the dark water below. maybe he should just jump. see what the sea has to offer. it can’t be worse than the life he’s stuck in now.

“prince jake, making a scene again,” someone mutters, and jake spins toward the voice, nearly tripping over his own feet.

“what did you say?” he demands, his voice slurred, wavering between arrogance and vulnerability. but the speaker—a grizzled old sailor—just shakes his head and turns away, clearly not interested in a fight.

jake scoffs, tipping his bottle back for another long gulp. the wine burns down his throat, but it’s a good burn, a grounding one. the kind that keeps him from thinking too much, from feeling too much.

his father’s words echo in his mind, and he takes another drink to drown them out. it’s not fair. none of it is fair. he’s supposed to be a prince, not a puppet. he’s supposed to have choices, damn it.

somewhere in the fog of his thoughts, he hears someone calling his name. a guard, maybe, or a servant sent to drag him back to the palace. jake ignores them, staggering away, further down the docks, away from the prying eyes and the whispered gossip.

he stops near the end of the pier, where the water laps quietly against the posts, dark and deep beneath the pale moonlight. the waves are hypnotic, soothing in their endless rhythm, and for a moment, he closes his eyes, letting the cool breeze wash over his heated skin.

“i don’t know what i want,” he mutters to the empty night. “i don’t know what i’m supposed to do…”

from the deck of your ship, you had been watching the entire scene unfold with growing amusement. 

your ship had been docked for the past few days at the kingdom’s bustling port, quietly resupplying while avoiding any unwanted attention from the royal guards or port authorities. it was a place of wealth and opportunity, perfect for pirates like you to slip through the cracks and gather supplies, crew, and sometimes, new opportunities.

and tonight, an opportunity had wandered right into your line of sight.

“captain,” jungwon said quietly, his eyes also fixed on the drunken prince below. your first mate, always alert, always sharp. he stood beside you at the bow of the ship, arms crossed, the shadow of a smirk on his lips as he glanced at the scene below. “isn’t that the royal brat we’ve heard about?”

you didn’t answer at first, too busy studying the scene unfolding at the dock. prince jake—dishevelled, clearly intoxicated, and seemingly alone—was making a spectacle of himself. despite the late hour, there were still enough people around to whisper and mutter as the prince stumbled about, oblivious to their stares.

“looks like he’s having himself quite the night,” you remarked, a sly grin curling across your lips.

jungwon raised an eyebrow. “seems like he’s also forgotten he’s the heir to the kingdom. i’d bet he’s about to make a fool of himself before sunrise.”

you chuckled softly, your mind already working through the possibilities. “or… we could help him make an even bigger fool of himself.” you glanced at jungwon, your eyes gleaming with mischief. “how much do you think a prince is worth in ransom?”

jungwon’s smirk widened. “more than enough to keep us comfortable for a while.”

your gaze flicked back to jake. the wine had clearly taken hold of him, his steps becoming more erratic, his words slurred and aimless. his father had likely forced him into some political arrangement—probably that marriage you’d heard whispers of. how fitting that the prince, buckling under pressure, would run to the one place where a pirate could take advantage of him.

the idea of holding a prince for ransom made your fingers twitch with greed. the thought of the king, scrambling to rescue his son, made your heart race with anticipation. and besides, the prince was practically serving himself up to you on a silver platter.

“get the crew ready,” you ordered jungwon, stepping back from the railing. “i think it’s time we gave the good prince a proper introduction to life at sea.”

jungwon nodded, already slipping into action. the rest of the crew moved with quiet efficiency as they prepared for the impromptu kidnapping. there was no need for loud orders or clumsy manoeuvres—your crew knew how to handle this. you’d done it before, and you’d do it again. but this time, the stakes were much, much higher.

your boots clicked against the wooden planks as you descended the gangway, your crew flanking you. the night air was cool and sharp, the faint scent of seaweed and brine mixing with the distant aroma of the city behind you. as you approached the drunken prince, you couldn’t help but smile. he was still mumbling to himself, oblivious to the danger that had begun circling him.

“good evening, your highness,” you said, your voice low and dripping with mockery.

jake turned, blinking at you with bleary, confused eyes. he was handsome, you had to admit—handsome in that polished, princely way that marked him as soft, unused to the real world beyond his royal walls. his tousled hair fell into his eyes as he squinted at you, trying to make sense of your presence.

“wha—who are you?” he slurred, swaying slightly. his gaze flicked to the men behind you, then back to your face, the confusion deepening. “what… what do you want?”

you smiled, taking a slow step closer, letting him feel the weight of your presence. “oh, nothing much. just a little ransom. you know how it goes.”

jake frowned, trying to comprehend your words through the haze of alcohol. “ransom…?”

“you, my dear prince, are coming with me,” you said smoothly. “don’t worry, it’s nothing personal. just business. you understand business, right?”

he stumbled backward as your crew moved in, panic flashing across his features. “no, wait—what—what are you doing?” his voice rose, but it was too late. jungwon had already seized him by the arm, the prince’s drunken protests falling on deaf ears as your crew quickly subdued him, binding his wrists.

“you can struggle all you want,” you said, your voice calm, almost amused. “but it won’t do you any good. you’re coming aboard my ship now, your highness. congratulations, you’ve been promoted from prince to captive.”

jake cursed under his breath, his attempts at resistance clumsy and ineffective. the sight of him, so out of his element, so thoroughly unprepared for the world you inhabited, made your grin widen. he had no idea what was in store for him.

jungwon gave you a brief nod as the crew hauled jake toward the ship. “this is going to be interesting.”

“very,” you replied, your eyes still on the prince. the ransom you’d demand would be enough to keep your crew well-fed and supplied for a long time. maybe even enough to retire somewhere warm and far away.

the thought of the king’s panic when he realised his son had been taken made your blood sing with excitement. this was going to be a payday worth remembering.

jake’s head felt like it had been split in two.

groaning, he slowly blinked his eyes open, wincing as a sharp pain lanced through his skull. everything hurt—his temples throbbed, his mouth was dry, and his stomach churned in protest against the excess of wine from the night before. it took a moment for his vision to clear, the blurred shapes around him slowly coming into focus.

he was lying on a rough, uncomfortable mattress, a thin, scratchy blanket draped over him. the room was dim, lit only by a thin sliver of sunlight seeping through a small, grimy window high up on the wall. wooden beams crisscrossed above him, the ceiling low and oppressive. the walls were bare, made of dark, weathered wood that creaked softly as the entire room seemed to sway and shift.

jake sat up with a start, his head spinning from the sudden movement. he clutched his forehead, trying to piece together the fragments of last night’s memories. the port, the wine, his father’s angry voice ringing in his ears—those memories were clear enough. but everything after that was a blur.

he tried to stand, but his legs felt unsteady, his balance thrown off by the gentle rocking beneath his feet. the floor tilted, and jake stumbled, grabbing at the wall for support.

“where the hell…?” his voice came out hoarse, and he swallowed painfully, his throat raw. the last thing he remembered was being at the docks, stumbling around like an idiot. and then… he closed his eyes, trying to recall. there had been a voice—a mocking, lilting voice. he’d seen a shadowed figure, someone who’d grabbed him…

his eyes flew open as realisation dawned.

“pirates,” he whispered, the word sending a chill down his spine.

he looked around frantically, trying to get his bearings. the room was small, the only furnishings a rickety wooden chair and a small table bolted to the floor. there were no decorations, no signs of luxury or comfort. this wasn’t some noble’s estate or a secluded inn—this was a ship. he was on a ship.

panic flared in his chest. he had to get out, had to—

the door creaked open, interrupting his frantic thoughts. jake whirled around, his heart pounding as a figure stepped into the room.

when jake laid his eyes on you, standing in the dimly lit cabin, he couldn't help but stare. despite the circumstances, there was an undeniable air of confidence and danger that drew him in, like a storm you couldn't look away from. your sharp eyes, steady and calculating, seemed to glimmer with mischief beneath the low light, framed by wild strands of hair that escaped the loose tie holding it back. the leather jacket you wore clung to your form, tough yet graceful, and with each step you took toward him, he felt a mixture of intimidation and awe. you were no princess from some royal court. you were real—strong, commanding, and utterly breathtaking in a way that made his heart race for reasons he couldn't quite name.

you leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, an amused smile playing on your lips. “good morning, your highness. sleep well?”

jake stared at you, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to find words. it was you—the pirate from last night. the one who had taken him. the one responsible for this entire nightmare. 

“wha—where am i?” he demanded, his voice shaky but edged with anger. “what the hell is going on?”

you raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by his confusion. “you’re on my ship, prince. welcome aboard.”

“your ship?” he took a step back, his eyes darting around as if expecting to find some hidden exit. “you—why did you—”

“kidnap you?” you supplied helpfully, your grin widening. “i thought that much was obvious.”

he glared at you, the fear and anger in his eyes warring for dominance. “you can’t do this. do you have any idea who i am?”

you chuckled softly. “of course i do. you’re prince jake, heir to the throne, soon-to-be husband to some poor girl you’ve never met. or were supposed to be, anyway.”

jake bristled at your words, the reminder of his unwanted engagement fueling his anger. “then you know my father will have your head for this. you’re making a huge mistake.”

you shrugged, clearly unconcerned. “maybe. but it’s a very profitable mistake. you see, your highness, you’re worth quite a lot of money. i’m sure your father will be more than happy to pay a hefty sum to get you back.”

jake’s jaw clenched. he could feel his heart racing, the situation spiralling further out of his control with every word you spoke. “you’re a fool if you think he’ll give in to your demands. he doesn’t negotiate with—”

“pirates?” you interrupted, your voice mocking. “no, i suppose he wouldn’t. but we’re not just any pirates, prince. we’re very persuasive.”

jake’s eyes narrowed. “what do you want?”

you tilted your head, considering him for a moment. then you pushed yourself off the doorframe, taking a few slow steps toward him. “like i said, a ransom. nothing too extravagant—just enough gold and jewels to make this little detour worth our while.”

he straightened, drawing himself up to his full height, his chin lifting defiantly. “and if i refuse?”

you laughed then, a light, almost playful sound that made his blood boil. “oh, your highness, you really don’t have much of a choice in the matter. we’re going to contact your father, and he’s going to pay us. if he doesn’t…” you shrugged again, the gesture casual, almost careless. “well, let’s just say there are plenty of other kingdoms that might be interested in buying a prince.”

jake’s blood ran cold at the implication. he had no doubt you were serious, the casualness of your threat only making it more chilling. he clenched his fists, feeling a surge of helpless rage. he hated this—hated feeling so powerless, so trapped.

“why me?” he asked, his voice low, almost a growl. “why did you choose to kidnap me?”

you smirked, leaning back against the table, crossing your arms again. “why not? you were practically begging for it last night. drunk and stumbling around the docks, without a guard in sight. you made it too easy.”

jake glared at you, his face flushed with anger and shame. he had been stupid, reckless. he knew that. but to hear you say it, to see the amusement in your eyes—it made his humiliation burn even hotter.

“and besides,” you continued, your tone more thoughtful now. “there’s something… interesting about you, prince. most royal brats would be crying by now, begging for mercy or trying to bribe their way out of this. but you—” you looked him over, your gaze sharp and assessing. “you’ve got a bit of fight in you. i like that.”

he swallowed, his throat dry. “if you think i’m going to just sit here and let you ransom me off, you’re mistaken.”

“oh, i don’t expect you to sit quietly, jake,” you said, his name rolling off your tongue with a teasing lilt. “but you will stay here. and you will do exactly as i say. because if you don’t…” you leaned in close, your voice dropping to a whisper. “things could get very unpleasant for you.”

jake’s heart hammered in his chest, the threat hanging heavy in the air between you. but he refused to back down, refused to let you see just how scared he was. “you’re a coward,” he spat, his voice shaking with barely controlled rage. “hiding behind threats and chains.”

you straightened, your smile fading slightly, replaced by a cool, calculating look. “maybe. but i’m the coward who’s holding you prisoner, and you’re the one locked in this room. so who really has the power here, prince?”

jake didn’t have an answer to that, the reality of his situation crashing down around him. he was trapped, alone, at the mercy of a pirate who seemed to find his struggles more amusing than anything else.

you watched him for a moment longer, then turned, heading for the door. “i’d get comfortable if i were you. we’ll be sending your father a little message soon. until then, try not to get into too much trouble.”

with that, you slipped out of the room, the door closing behind you with a decisive click. jake was left standing there, his heart racing, his mind whirling with a thousand unanswered questions.

he took a deep breath, his eyes darting around the small, cramped space. there had to be a way out of this. he wasn’t going to let you—let anyone—control his fate. he was a prince, damn it. and he would find a way to take back control, no matter what it took.

jake spent the next few hours pacing the confines of his makeshift cell, frustration bubbling in his chest like a pot set to boil. every creak and sway of the ship was a reminder of where he was—trapped on a pirate vessel, of all places. he had never felt more out of his depth, more powerless, and it infuriated him. 

the room was small and sparsely furnished, nothing like the opulence he was used to in the palace. he had grown up surrounded by luxury—plush carpets, gilded furniture, and servants who attended to his every whim. here, there was only the harsh creak of the wooden floorboards and the faint smell of saltwater seeping through the cracks in the planks. it was a stark, unpleasant contrast, and jake’s sense of indignation grew with every second.

he tugged at the bindings around his wrists for what felt like the hundredth time, hissing in irritation as the ropes bit into his skin. “unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath, his voice dripping with disdain. “kidnapped by a bunch of filthy pirates. my father will have their heads for this.”

his thoughts whirled, oscillating between anger and disbelief. did you really think you could get away with this? he was a prince—he wasn’t supposed to be treated like some common prisoner. yet, here he was, bound and helpless, his only company the relentless thrum of the ship’s hull cutting through the waves.

the door swung open suddenly, and you sauntered in, a smug grin on your face. “good to see you’re making yourself at home, prince.”

jake glared at you, his eyes blazing. “you think this is funny?”

you raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in your gaze. “i think it’s hilarious, actually. you should’ve seen yourself last night, stumbling around like a newborn foal. if it weren’t so pathetic, i might’ve felt sorry for you.”

jake bristled at your words. “my father will crush you for this,” he spat, his voice tinged with the haughty arrogance of a nobleman used to getting his way. “do you know what happens to people who cross the crown?”

you chuckled, leaning back against the wall, arms crossed. “i’ve got a pretty good idea, but thanks for the warning.” you glanced at the bindings around his wrists, then back at his face. “now, are you going to behave, or do i need to tie you up even tighter?”

he scoffed, his eyes narrowing. “you really think you can intimidate me with your crude threats? i’ve dealt with far scarier people than you.”

“oh, really?” you said, your voice dripping with mock interest. “and who might that be? your etiquette tutor?”

jake’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment and anger. “this isn’t a joke! i’m not some commoner you can push around. i have rights, and you—”

“—have no leverage here,” you finished, your voice firm and steady. you stepped closer, your gaze locking onto his. “you’re on my ship, prince. your rights are whatever i decide they are. and if you keep up this bratty behaviour, you’ll find out just how limited those rights can be.”

jake stared at you, his pulse pounding in his ears. he was used to people deferring to him, used to his word being law. this was… humiliating. he opened his mouth to retort, but the words stuck in his throat, his outrage tangling with something else—fear, maybe, or the uncomfortable realisation that, for now, you were right.

he turned away, biting down hard on his lower lip. “this is ridiculous,” he muttered, more to himself than to you.

you watched him for a moment, your expression softening slightly. “you might as well get used to it, your highness,” you said, your tone less mocking, more pragmatic. “we’re going to be at sea for a while. unless you’d rather spend your days tied up in this cabin, i’d suggest you start cooperating.”

“cooperating?” he whipped around, his eyes flashing. “with you? never.”

you shrugged, seemingly unfazed by his defiance. “suit yourself. but just so you know, it’s not going to be as bad as you think. you might even enjoy it, if you’d pull that stick out of your royal ass.”

he made a noise of disbelief, shaking his head. “enjoy being a prisoner on a pirate ship? are you mad?”

“not mad, just realistic,” you replied, your smile returning. “you could sit here sulking, or you could make the best of it. who knows? maybe you’ll learn something.”

jake let out a sharp, humourless laugh. “learn something? from a bunch of lawless thugs?”

“you’d be surprised,” you said lightly. “you might find there’s more to life than being a spoiled prince.”

the words struck a nerve, and jake bristled, his shoulders tense. “you don’t know anything about me.”

“i know enough,” you said, your tone thoughtful now. “i know you’ve spent your whole life being told what to do, where to go, who to marry. must get tiring after a while, huh?”

jake’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond. because you were right. the constant expectations, the endless duties—it was exhausting. but he’d never admit that to you.

you watched him, your gaze assessing, then straightened, pushing off the wall. “well, when you’re ready to stop being a brat and start acting like a human being, let me know. maybe we can talk like adults.”

he glared at you, his pride refusing to let him back down. “i don’t need your pity, pirate.”

“it’s not pity,” you said calmly. “it’s a chance. take it or leave it.”

with that, you turned and left the room, the door closing behind you with a soft thud. jake stood there, staring at the closed door, his mind racing.

he hated you. hated the way you talked to him, the way you looked at him, like he was some petulant child who didn’t know any better. but more than that, he hated the way your words made something inside him twist uncomfortably, the way they hit just a little too close to the truth.

because the truth was, he was tired. tired of being the perfect prince, the obedient son, the pawn in his father’s endless political games. and in a strange, twisted way, there was a part of him that almost—almost—wanted to see what you meant. to understand what life was like outside the confines of the palace walls.

but he wouldn’t give you the satisfaction of knowing that.

not yet, anyway.

jake spent the next day doing his best to test your patience. he may have been stuck in this small, grimy room, but he wasn’t about to let you think he was going to cooperate. no, he was a prince, and he would find a way to make you regret kidnapping him.

the first signs of trouble came early. he knocked over the water pitcher, letting the liquid spill across the floor, then stood back, crossing his arms as if daring someone to come clean it up. a little while later, he took the plate of bread and fruit jungwon had brought him and tossed it out the small window, watching as it splashed into the sea below.

when you walked in, you found him lounging on the chair, arms behind his head, a smug smile on his face.

“comfortable, your highness?” you asked, your tone dry.

“quite,” jake replied, his smile widening. “just thought i’d redecorate. this place is rather… drab.”

you glanced at the puddle of water spreading across the floor, the broken plate shards glittering near the window, and shook your head. “right. very tasteful. i see why you were forced into diplomacy and not design.”

jake's expression hardened. “i was trying to make a point.”

“and what point is that?” you asked, leaning against the doorframe, amusement dancing in your eyes. “that you have the maturity of a toddler?”

before jake could respond, jungwon entered the room, a look of mild exasperation on his face. he glanced around, taking in the mess, then turned to you.

“captain, you need me to deal with this?” he asked, jerking his thumb toward jake. “or should we just toss him overboard and be done with it?”

jake’s eyes widened slightly at the suggestion, but he quickly schooled his expression back into one of defiance. “i’d like to see you try.”

jungwon smirked, folding his arms. “you wouldn’t last a minute, prince. trust me.”

you chuckled, shaking your head. “no one’s getting tossed overboard. but it seems our guest needs a lesson in respecting his hosts.”

jungwon raised an eyebrow. “you want me to teach him some manners?”

jake bristled. “i don’t need to be taught anything by you.”

“oh, this is going to be fun,” jungwon said, his grin widening. he stepped closer to jake, who leaned back slightly, clearly trying not to look intimidated.

“what are you going to do?” jake asked, his voice trying to sound brave but betraying a hint of nervousness.

jungwon looked at him thoughtfully. “well, i could make you swab the deck, or clean the bilge. but honestly, you look like you’ve never worked a day in your life. so maybe i’ll just take you to the galley and see if you can peel potatoes without whining.”

jake blinked, caught off guard. “peel potatoes?”

“yep.” jungwon clapped him on the shoulder with a grin. “you’ll be the galley’s new assistant. keeps you busy and out of trouble.”

jake glanced at you, then back at jungwon. “you can’t be serious.”

“oh, i’m very serious,” jungwon said, his smile turning almost wicked. “we’ll see if you can hold a knife without crying about your precious hands getting dirty.”

jake opened his mouth to argue but seemed to think better of it. instead, he turned back to you, his expression defiant but wavering. “you’re really going to make me do this?”

you shrugged nonchalantly. “well, you did say you were bored. and i think it’s about time you earned your keep, don’t you?”

before jake could respond, jungwon grabbed his arm and started hauling him out of the cabin. “come on, your highness. let’s see what you’re made of.”

“hey—wait!” jake protested, stumbling slightly as jungwon pulled him along. “i’m not going to—”

“oh, but you are,” jungwon said cheerfully. “and if you’re lucky, i might even let you eat some of what you cook. assuming it’s not completely inedible.”

as the two of them disappeared down the corridor, you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. jungwon was good at handling difficult captives, and jake was certainly proving to be a challenge. 

the galley was a bustling, cramped space filled with the clatter of pots and the smell of cooking food. jake stood in the middle of it all, looking utterly out of place and thoroughly miserable.

“this is ridiculous,” he muttered as jungwon handed him a bucket of potatoes and a small, worn knife.

“maybe,” jungwon agreed, a teasing smile on his lips, “but it’s also your job now. so get peeling, prince.”

jake scowled, holding the knife awkwardly as he fumbled with the first potato. “i don’t know how to do this.”

jungwon rolled his eyes. “of course you don’t. here, let me show you.” he took the knife and a potato, demonstrating the quick, efficient motion of peeling it. “see? easy.”

jake watched, his pride clearly stinging, but he took the knife back and attempted to mimic jungwon’s actions. he managed to slice off a decent chunk of the potato along with the peel, grimacing as he looked at the uneven result.

jungwon snickered. “not bad for a first try. now you only have, oh, about a hundred more to go.”

jake glared at him. “i don’t see why i should be doing this. i’m not some servant.”

“no, you’re a captive,” jungwon reminded him, his tone light but firm. “and captives who don’t cause trouble get treated well. those who do…” he let the sentence hang, his grin turning sharp.

jake huffed but turned his attention back to the potato, muttering under his breath about the indignity of it all. jungwon watched him struggle for a moment, then, with a sigh, grabbed a knife and started peeling alongside him.

“just try to keep up,” jungwon teased, effortlessly skinning a potato in record time.

jake’s face burned with frustration, but he forced himself to focus, determined not to let the pirate best him. it was a small, ridiculous battle of wills, but for some reason, it mattered.

despite himself, jake found the rhythm of the work strangely calming. it was mindless, but in a way, it gave him something to focus on other than the fact that he was a prisoner on a pirate ship. and, to his annoyance, jungwon’s casual, bantering presence made it a little less unbearable.

by the time they finished, jake’s hands were cramping, and there was a pile of poorly peeled potatoes at his feet. he looked at them with a mix of pride and disgust.

“not bad,” jungwon said, his tone surprisingly genuine. “for a beginner.”

jake looked at him, surprised. “you’re not going to mock me?”

jungwon shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. “i’ll save it for when you actually deserve it.”

jake snorted, shaking his head. “i still don’t see why i have to do this.”

“think of it as character building,” jungwon suggested with a grin. “besides, it’s better than sitting in that room, sulking.”

jake glanced at the pile of potatoes, then back at jungwon, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. “i suppose there are worse things.”

“there definitely are,” jungwon said with a laugh. “now, let’s get these to the cook before he decides to use us for stew.”

as they headed toward the galley, jake couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of camaraderie with the pirate beside him. it was confusing, unsettling even, but for the first time since he’d been taken, he didn’t feel quite so alone.

maybe, just maybe, he could survive this.

and, who knows? he might even learn a thing or two along the way.

as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over the ship, the crew gathered on the main deck for dinner. the air was filled with the scent of grilled fish and freshly baked bread, the sound of laughter and conversation creating a lively atmosphere that was a stark contrast to the tension of earlier in the day.

jake, still somewhat dazed from his unexpected kitchen duties, found himself standing awkwardly on the edge of the group. he glanced around, taking in the relaxed, almost familial vibe of the crew as they ate and joked with each other. it was strange, seeing these hardened pirates—people he’d been raised to think of as ruthless and bloodthirsty—sharing food and stories like any other group of sailors.

he felt completely out of place.

“you gonna stand there all night, or are you actually going to eat something?” jungwon’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts. the first mate appeared beside him, holding a plate piled high with food.

jake hesitated, glancing at the plate and then back at jungwon. “is this… for me?”

jungwon rolled his eyes. “no, it’s for the seagulls. yes, it’s for you. now, sit.”

jake took the plate gingerly, his stomach growling in response to the smell. he hadn’t realised how hungry he was until now. he followed jungwon to a spot near the railing, where they both sat down on the wooden deck.

the food was simple but delicious: grilled fish, a slice of bread, and a generous portion of roasted vegetables. jake ate slowly, savouring each bite, his earlier defiance momentarily forgotten in the face of genuine hunger.

“you know, i’m surprised you didn’t just throw this overboard too,” jungwon remarked, his tone teasing but not unkind.

jake shot him a look, but there was no real heat behind it. “i might be a little spoiled, but i’m not stupid. i know when to appreciate a good meal.”

“glad to hear it,” jungwon said with a grin. “our cook might have thrown you overboard if you wasted his food.”

jake raised an eyebrow. “is that a joke?”

“maybe,” jungwon replied, winking. “but you don’t want to test him. trust me.”

despite himself, jake chuckled, shaking his head. “you’re all crazy.”

“welcome aboard, then,” jungwon quipped, earning another small laugh from jake. it was strange, this easy camaraderie they were developing, but in a way, it was a relief. better this than more conflict.

as they ate, the conversation flowed easily between them. jungwon told a few stories about the crew, pointing out various members and sharing their quirks and histories. he spoke of the time he’d joined the crew himself, how he’d been just a reckless kid looking for adventure, not unlike jake in some ways.

“and then there’s the captain,” jungwon said, his tone shifting to something more thoughtful. “she’s the reason most of us are here. tough as nails, but fair. she sees things in people, you know? things they don’t see in themselves.”

jake glanced over at you, where you were standing near the helm, talking quietly with another crew member. he thought about how you’d handled him earlier, firm but not cruel, refusing to rise to his provocations. there was something about you—something he couldn’t quite figure out, but it intrigued him.

“she certainly has a unique recruitment strategy,” he said dryly, taking another bite of fish.

jungwon snorted. “yeah, kidnapping royalty isn’t exactly standard procedure. but you’re a special case.”

jake frowned. “special how?”

“you really don’t know, do you?” jungwon asked, tilting his head. “i mean, i’m sure you’ve heard the rumours about your own kingdom. the unrest, the protests. people aren’t happy, and your father’s trying to patch things up with that marriage alliance. he’s desperate to secure his rule.”

jake’s expression tightened. he knew all of this, of course. it was why he’d been so frustrated, so angry. he didn’t want to be a pawn in his father’s political games, married off to some princess he didn’t even know just to keep the peace. but hearing it laid out like this, from a pirate of all people, made it feel more real, more urgent.

“and what does that have to do with me?” he asked, his voice tense.

jungwon shrugged. “it means you’re valuable. not just as a prince, but as a symbol. people see you as the future of the kingdom, for better or worse. and if you’re here, with us… well, it changes things.”

jake stared at him, his mind racing. he hadn’t thought about it like that. he’d been so focused on his own feelings, his own desires, that he hadn’t considered how his actions might affect others.

before he could respond, you approached, a wry smile on your lips. “are you boring him with pirate politics, jungwon?”

jungwon grinned up at you. “just making sure he knows what he’s gotten himself into.”

you looked down at jake, your gaze sharp but not unkind. “and do you?”

jake met your eyes, feeling a strange mix of emotions—defiance, curiosity, even a hint of respect. “i’m starting to.”

“good,” you said, nodding approvingly. “because you’re not going to get any special treatment here. if you want to survive, you’ll have to work like everyone else.”

jake bristled slightly, but there was no real anger in his voice as he replied, “i’m not afraid of hard work.”

“glad to hear it,” you said, your smile turning almost mischievous. “because tomorrow, you’re on cleaning duty. i expect the deck to be spotless.”

jake groaned, and jungwon burst out laughing. “welcome to pirate life, your highness.”

despite his grumbling, jake found himself smiling, a strange sense of relief washing over him. for the first time in a long while, he felt like he was in control of something, even if it was just his own response to this bizarre situation.

maybe, just maybe, he could find a way to make this work. and if he was going to be stuck here, he might as well make the most of it.

“fine,” he said, lifting his chin slightly. “but don’t think i’m doing it for free.”

you laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “oh? and what do you want in return, prince?”

jake thought for a moment, then smiled. “a chance to prove you wrong.”

you raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “about what?”

“that i can handle whatever you throw at me,” he said, his voice steady and sure. “i’m not just some spoiled royal. i can be more than that.”

you considered him for a moment, then nodded, a hint of respect in your gaze. “we’ll see. but i’ll hold you to that.”

as the crew continued to eat and talk around them, jake felt a strange sense of anticipation building inside him. maybe this was his chance to figure out who he really was, beyond the title and the expectations.

the following days saw jake throwing himself into work with a single-minded determination, his initial resistance shifting into a genuine desire to prove himself. the crew, initially sceptical, began to warm up to his efforts. they watched as he took on every menial task without complaint, his posture growing less rigid with each passing day, his movements becoming more confident.

and then there was you—always watching, always testing.

one afternoon, after an exhausting morning of scrubbing the deck and assisting the crew with their duties, jake approached jungwon, who was busy adjusting the sails.

“i want to learn,” jake said, his voice steady despite the sweat beading on his forehead.

jungwon glanced at him, a glimmer of surprise in his eyes. “learn what, your highness?”

“everything,” jake replied, determination evident in his tone. “navigation, sailing, sword fighting—whatever it takes.”

jungwon raised an eyebrow, then nodded slowly. “alright. but don’t expect us to go easy on you. if you want to learn, you’ll have to earn it.”

jake’s gaze shifted to you, where you stood near the helm, a confident presence that seemed to command the very winds. “i’m ready.”

jungwon smirked, but there was a hint of approval in his expression. “we’ll see.”

jake’s training began with the basics: tying knots, handling the rigging, learning the different parts of the ship. he was clumsy at first, his hands unused to the rough work, but he was quick to learn, his determination driving him forward. you watched from a distance, your eyes sharp, taking in every stumble, every success.

as the days passed, jake’s confidence grew. he started to understand the rhythms of the sea, the subtle shifts in the wind, the way the crew worked together like the well-oiled parts of a single, living entity. and he found himself drawn to you, despite his best efforts to keep his distance.

there was something about the way you moved, the way you spoke to the crew with a mix of authority and respect, that both fascinated and frustrated him. you were nothing like the people he’d known at court—no politeness masking cruelty, no false smiles. just raw, unflinching honesty.

one evening, after a long day of work, jake found you alone on the quarterdeck, studying a weathered map spread out on a small table. the sky was awash in shades of pink and gold, the sun sinking slowly into the horizon.

“captain,” he called out, his voice tentative.

you glanced up, your expression unreadable. “yes, prince?”

he hesitated, then gestured to the map. “i was hoping you could teach me navigation. i know the basics, but… i want to know more.”

you studied him for a long moment, your gaze searching his face as if weighing his sincerity. finally, you nodded. “show me what you know.”

he stepped forward, standing close enough to feel the warmth of your body, the subtle scent of salt and sea air that clung to your clothes. you handed him a sextant, and he took it, his fingers brushing against yours for the briefest second—a touch so fleeting it could have been an accident, yet it sent a strange jolt through him.

“use this to measure the angle of the sun,” you instructed, your voice low and calm. “compare that to the time of day, and you can find our latitude.”

he did as you said, holding the instrument up and adjusting it carefully, his brow furrowed in concentration. you watched him closely, stepping closer to adjust his grip. your fingers lingered a moment longer than necessary, the contact sending a shiver down his spine.

“like this,” you murmured, your breath warm against his cheek.

jake swallowed hard, his pulse quickening. he nodded, his voice coming out a little too rough. “got it.”

you stepped back, watching as he took the reading and compared it to the chart. when he got it right, he felt a surge of pride. he glanced at you, half-expecting to see you dismissive or indifferent, but there was a hint of a smile on your lips, a glint of approval in your eyes.

“not bad,” you said, nodding. “keep practising.”

“thanks,” he said, his voice softer now. he hesitated, then added, “i appreciate you giving me a chance.”

you shrugged, turning back to the map. “just don’t make me regret it.”

that night, he lay in his hammock, staring up at the ceiling of the small cabin. he couldn’t stop thinking about the way you’d looked at him, the way your touch had felt against his skin. it was maddening, this pull he felt toward you, this mix of admiration and frustration, desire and defiance.

the next day, jake’s restlessness found an outlet in a sparring session with the crew. he watched as you and jungwon faced off on the deck, your swords clashing in a blur of silver and steel. the crew gathered around, cheering and laughing, but all jake could focus on was you—the fierce, almost predatory grace of your movements, the way you seemed to anticipate jungwon’s every move.

in the end, you disarmed him easily, your blade pressing lightly against his chest.

“yield?” you asked, a playful glint in your eye.

jungwon grinned, stepping back with a mock bow. “yield, captain. for now.”

you lowered your sword, turning to jake. “what about you, prince? care to try your luck?”

jake felt his heart skip a beat. he’d been wanting this—craving a chance to prove himself, to push back against the tension simmering between you. he picked up a practice sword, testing its weight.

“i’m ready,” he said, meeting your gaze head-on.

the crew fell silent as you took your positions. you watched him, your expression unreadable, and then you moved. jake barely had time to react, his blade clashing against yours with a jarring force that sent vibrations up his arm.

“too slow,” you said, your voice almost a purr.

he gritted his teeth, pushing back. “i’m just getting started.”

you smiled—a real, genuine smile that was somehow more dangerous than any glare. you stepped back, feinting to the left before striking right. he blocked, his movements instinctive, adrenaline singing in his veins.

“good,” you murmured. “but not good enough.”

you moved like water, slipping past his defences, your blade coming to rest against his throat. he froze, his breath catching. you were so close now, your eyes locked on his, and for a moment, the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you.

“yield?” you asked, your voice soft, almost teasing.

jake swallowed, his pulse pounding in his ears. he wanted to say something clever, something to break the tension, but his mouth felt dry. “never.”

you held his gaze for a long, intense moment, then lowered your sword, stepping back. “we’ll see.”

as the crew began to disperse, jake remained where he was, his heart still racing. he watched as you turned away, your expression unreadable, and felt a strange mixture of relief and disappointment.

later, as the evening settled in and the crew gathered for dinner, jake found himself once again at the edge of the group. jungwon, catching sight of him, waved him over.

“hey, prince. you did good today,” he said, offering jake a plate of food.

jake took it, still slightly dazed. “thanks. i just—” he glanced over at you, where you were talking quietly with one of the crew. “i can’t figure her out.”

jungwon followed his gaze, then shrugged. “she’s the captain. she’s not supposed to be easy to figure out.”

jake frowned. “but there’s something else, isn’t there? it’s like… she’s testing me. but for what?”

jungwon chuckled. “maybe she’s trying to see if you’re worth all the trouble you’ve caused.”

jake considered that, then shook his head. “no, it’s more than that. i just… i want to prove myself.”

“to her?” jungwon asked, raising an eyebrow.

jake hesitated, then nodded slowly. “yeah. i guess i do.”

jungwon grinned, clapping him on the shoulder. “good luck with that. she’s a tough one to impress.”

jake glanced over at you again, feeling that familiar pull, that mix of challenge and fascination. he didn’t know what he was trying to prove, or even why it mattered so much, but he knew one thing for certain:

he wasn’t going to give up.

the next day, jake found himself at the helm with you again, the map spread out between you. you were showing him how to chart a course, your voice calm and patient as you explained the intricacies of navigation.

he watched you, your profile sharp and focused, the way your fingers traced the lines on the map with practised ease. he wondered what it would be like to know you—not just as the captain, but as the person behind the title.

“do you ever get tired of it?” he asked suddenly, the question slipping out before he could stop himself.

you glanced at him, one eyebrow raised. “tired of what?”

“this,” he gestured around, at the ship, the sea. “the constant moving, the danger. don’t you ever want something… more stable?”

your eyes narrowed slightly, and for a moment, he thought he’d overstepped. but then you shrugged, your gaze turning distant.

“stability’s a cage, prince. i’ve been there, and i’m not going back.”

jake felt a pang of something—sympathy, understanding. he nodded slowly. “yeah. i guess i know what you mean.”

you looked at him then, really looked at him, and for a heartbeat, he thought he saw something soften in your eyes. but it was gone in an instant, replaced by your usual guardedness.

“focus on the map, prince,” you said, your tone brisk. “you still have a lot to learn.”

jake smiled, despite himself. “yes, captain.”

and as the sun set on another day, he felt that spark of determination flare brighter. he would learn. he would prove himself. not just to you, but to himself.

because, whether he liked it or not, he was starting to realise that out here, on this ship, with you and this crew, he was beginning to feel something he’d never felt before.

he was beginning to feel like he belonged.

the days passed in a blur of new experiences and hard work. jake found himself adapting to life on your ship quicker than he’d expected. there was something strangely liberating about the simplicity of it—no formalities, no expectations to be anything other than himself. but he couldn’t deny that his eyes sought you out constantly, intrigued by the way you commanded respect and moved with an easy confidence that spoke of years at sea.

he’d thrown himself into learning as much as he could, from tying complicated knots to reading the winds and stars. jungwon, patient but merciless in his training, guided him through the intricacies of navigation and combat. the crew had begun to warm to him, and he even caught you watching him with something that looked almost like approval.

one evening, after a long day of training and chores, jake wandered onto the deck, his muscles aching but his mind clear. the sun was setting, casting a warm golden glow over the sea, and a peaceful silence had settled over the ship. most of the crew were below deck, resting or eating, leaving the upper deck quiet and empty.

he found you at the helm, hands resting lightly on the wheel as you guided the ship through the gentle evening breeze. you glanced over as he approached, a slight smile tugging at your lips.

“shouldn’t you be resting, prince? jungwon tells me he’s been working you pretty hard.”

jake shrugged, leaning against the railing beside you. “resting’s for people who know what they’re doing. i still have a lot to learn.”

you raised an eyebrow, your smile widening slightly. “i didn’t think you’d last this long.”

“neither did i,” he admitted, laughing softly. “but i’m starting to get the hang of it. you know, it’s not so different from court politics. a lot of manoeuvring, knowing who to trust and when to watch your back.”

you snorted, shaking your head. “except here, if you mess up, you end up overboard.”

he grinned, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “sounds like dinner at the palace.”

you chuckled, the sound surprising him. it was rare to hear you laugh, and he found he liked it more than he expected. there was a softness to it that contrasted with your usual sharp edges, making him wonder what other sides of you lay hidden beneath your tough exterior.

“maybe you’re not so different from us after all,” you said, your tone thoughtful as you looked out at the horizon. “you’ve held your own better than i expected.”

jake’s smile faded slightly, a serious look crossing his face. “i want to be more than just a prince who got kidnapped. i want to prove that i can do this, that i belong here.”

you turned to look at him, something unreadable in your eyes. “why? you have a whole kingdom waiting for you. what’s the point of trying so hard to fit in here?”

he hesitated, then sighed, his gaze dropping to the deck. “because i don’t know if i belong there anymore. i spent my whole life being told what to do, what to be. i thought i knew what i wanted, but now… now i’m not so sure.”

you were silent for a long moment, watching him carefully. “this isn’t an easy life, jake. it’s not just about adventure and freedom. there’s danger, uncertainty. every day is a fight to survive.”

“i know,” he said quietly, meeting your gaze. “but at least here, i get to decide who i am. even if it’s hard.”

you studied him, your expression softening slightly. “and who do you want to be?”

he swallowed, his heart pounding. “i don’t know yet. but i think i want to find out.”

you nodded slowly, something like understanding flickering in your eyes. “well, as long as you’re on my ship, you’re one of us. and that means you pull your weight, no special treatment.”

he smiled, relief and gratitude flooding him. “i wouldn’t have it any other way.”

the two of you stood there for a while, the silence between you comfortable, almost companionable. the sea stretched out before you, dark and endless, the stars beginning to peek through the twilight sky. for the first time in a long while, jake felt a sense of peace, of purpose. he wasn’t sure where this journey would lead, but for now, he was content to take it one step at a time.

“hey, captain,” he said after a while, his voice soft. “thank you.”

you glanced at him, your expression guarded. “for what?”

“for giving me a chance,” he said simply.

you looked away, your fingers tightening slightly on the wheel. “just don’t make me regret it, prince.”

jake smiled, a small, genuine smile that made something inside you twist uncomfortably. “i’ll do my best.”

and for the first time, you found yourself hoping that he would.

after that conversation, jake threw himself even more fervently into life on the ship. he wasn’t just trying to prove himself to you anymore; he was trying to prove it to himself. he took on every challenge with a stubborn determination, even managing to outlast jungwon in a sword-fighting session one afternoon, much to the crew’s amusement.

the more he learned, the more he began to understand the unspoken bonds between the crew members, the camaraderie and trust that held them together even in the face of danger. he found himself laughing more, his shoulders relaxing, the constant tension that had defined his life at court slowly melting away.

one evening, as the crew gathered around for dinner, he found himself seated between you and jungwon, the three of you sharing a rare moment of peace. the crew’s laughter echoed around the deck as they traded stories and jests, the firelight casting warm, flickering shadows across their faces.

jake glanced at you, noting the way your shoulders had relaxed, your usual sharp gaze softened. he felt a strange, almost uncomfortable warmth in his chest at the sight of you like this, at ease and unguarded, if only for a moment.

“you know,” he said quietly, leaning closer so only you could hear, “i think i’m starting to get the hang of this whole pirate thing.”

you raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing at your lips. “don’t get too cocky, prince. you’ve still got a long way to go.”

he laughed softly, the sound genuine. “i guess i just have a good teacher.”

your gaze flicked to his, and for a moment, something passed between you—an unspoken understanding, a connection that neither of you could quite put into words. it was there in the way your eyes held his, in the faint curve of your lips, in the way his heart seemed to skip a beat, his breath catching in his throat.

before he could say anything more, jungwon, who had been listening in with a grin, leaned over, nudging jake with his elbow.

“careful, prince,” he said with a wink. “the captain’s not someone you want to cross.”

jake grinned, feeling more at ease than he had in a long time. “oh, i think i’ve learned that lesson already.”

you rolled your eyes, but there was no real heat in it, your expression softening as you looked between them. “just don’t expect any special treatment. you’re still part of this crew, and that means pulling your weight.”

jake nodded, his smile fading into something more serious. “i will. i promise.”

and as the night wore on, the three of you talking and laughing beneath the stars, he realised that, for the first time, he wasn’t thinking about what he’d left behind or what waited for him back at the kingdom. for the first time, he was simply here, in this moment, and it was enough.

the night was calm, the ship gently rocking as it sailed through the endless stretch of sea. above, the sky was a canvas of shimmering stars, scattered like diamonds against the black expanse. you leaned against the railing of the ship, the cool breeze brushing against your skin, a welcome contrast to the warmth radiating from the day’s work. the crew had long settled down, their laughter and banter from earlier now replaced by the quiet hum of the ocean. it was peaceful—almost too peaceful for someone like you, used to the chaos and unpredictability of life at sea.

you glanced over your shoulder, seeing jake making his way toward you. he had fit in surprisingly well with the crew, his bratty resistance from the early days replaced by curiosity and, dare you admit it, excitement. his princely demeanour had given way to something more natural, more at ease, as he took to the tasks with a sense of wonder. there was a certain boyish charm in the way he admired everything around him, whether it was the workings of the ship or the loyalty of your crew. and yet, beneath that, something more dangerous was brewing—something between the two of you.

“couldn’t sleep?” you asked as he reached your side.

he shrugged, leaning against the railing next to you, his shoulder brushing yours. “not with a view like this,” he said, his voice softer than usual as he gazed up at the stars. “i’ve never seen anything like it. the stars… they feel so close out here.”

you nodded, glancing up as well. “out here, you realise how small you are. it’s humbling.”

jake didn’t respond right away, and the comfortable silence between you stretched. you were both just standing there, side by side, watching the stars and listening to the waves. the night air was cool, and the proximity between you sent a spark through your skin. there had always been something electric about jake—something about the way he looked at you, with that mixture of defiance and admiration, that made you uneasy. and tonight, it felt stronger, like the space between you was filled with unspoken words and a tension you could no longer ignore.

finally, he spoke, his voice low and contemplative. “i don’t get it,” he began. “why… why choose this life? you could be anywhere, doing anything, and yet, you’re out here in the middle of nowhere, living on the edge. why?”

you let out a breath, your hand gripping the railing a little tighter. you’d always avoided these kinds of conversations, especially with people who didn’t understand the choices you’d made. but there was something about the way jake asked—like he wasn’t judging, just genuinely curious.

“i didn’t choose it,” you admitted quietly, your gaze fixed on the horizon. “not at first, anyway.”

jake turned to face you, waiting for you to continue.

“i grew up in a port town, one that was constantly ravaged by raids. pirates came, took what they wanted, and left nothing but ruin behind. my parents... they were honest traders, working to build something. but when the raids became too frequent, we lost everything. one day, they came back, and this time, they didn’t leave anyone alive.” you swallowed hard, forcing the lump in your throat down. “i survived. i hid while my world burned. after that, i realized that the only way to survive was to become stronger. to become one of them.”

jake’s expression softened, but he said nothing, letting you continue.

“i joined a crew, learned the ropes, and eventually made my own way. it wasn’t about money or fame—not at first. it was survival, pure and simple. but after a while, it became about more than that. it was about freedom. about having control over my own life.” you glanced at him, your voice wavering slightly. “out here, no one can tell me who to be. i make the rules.”

the silence that followed felt heavy, but not uncomfortable. jake absorbed your words, his eyes searching your face, as if seeing you in a different light. he opened his mouth to say something but then hesitated, his gaze dropping to the railing. when he finally spoke, his voice was laced with a vulnerability you hadn’t heard from him before.

“i never had that,” he said softly. “control, i mean. every part of my life was mapped out before i even had a chance to think for myself. it’s always been about duty. about what’s best for the kingdom.” he let out a short, humourless laugh. “and here i am, kidnapped by a pirate, and it’s the first time i’ve felt free.”

you turned to him, studying his face as he stared out at the sea. there was something raw in his words, something that resonated with you in a way you hadn’t expected. he wasn’t just the spoiled prince you’d thought he was. there was a depth to him, a quiet yearning that mirrored your own.

for a moment, you both stood in silence, the tension between you building with every passing second. the gentle sway of the ship seemed to bring you closer, and when jake finally turned to look at you, the intensity in his gaze made your heart race. his eyes locked onto yours, and you felt something shift—a magnetic pull drawing you closer, making it hard to breathe.

“y/n,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.

you could feel the warmth radiating from him, the proximity of his body sending a shiver down your spine. his gaze flickered to your lips, and before you could stop yourself, you stepped closer, your body betraying the caution that usually ruled you.

he reached out, hesitating for a moment before his hand gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin. the touch was light, almost hesitant, but it set every nerve in your body alight. you swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest as you felt the space between you evaporate.

“jake…” you whispered, unsure of what you were about to say, but it didn’t matter. he was already closing the distance, his lips hovering inches from yours. and then, in one slow, inevitable moment, he kissed you.

it was soft at first, tentative, as if testing the waters, but then it deepened, the intensity of everything you’d both been holding back pouring into the kiss. his hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer, and you melted into him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours.

when you finally pulled back, breathless and dazed, you stared at each other, the weight of what had just happened hanging between you.

“jake… i-”

“shh,” he murmured, his forehead resting against yours. “we don’t have to say anything. not right now.”

for the first time in a long time, you felt exposed—your walls crumbling in front of him. and yet, instead of fear, all you felt was relief. maybe, just maybe, there was room for something more in this chaotic, dangerous life. something real.

as the night stretched on and the stars twinkled above, you knew that whatever happened next, this moment had changed everything.

the days following that night under the stars felt different—charged with an energy neither of you could ignore. it wasn’t just the kiss, though that memory lingered like a spark waiting to ignite at the slightest touch. it was the way jake looked at you now, with a quiet intensity, a hunger in his eyes that made your heart race every time you caught him staring. and it was the way you felt drawn to him, despite the walls you’d built so carefully over the years.

every interaction felt loaded, every conversation laced with a tension that simmered just beneath the surface. yet neither of you spoke about it—not directly. instead, you let your actions speak for you. jake began spending more time by your side, asking questions about the ship, the crew, the sea. his bratty demeanour had all but vanished, replaced by a genuine curiosity, an eagerness to learn.

one afternoon, as you worked side by side on the deck, showing him how to properly tie a sailor’s knot, you felt his eyes on you again. the sun was high in the sky, casting a warm glow across the ship, but it was the heat of jake’s gaze that made your skin tingle. he was close—closer than he needed to be—his arm brushing yours as he tried to mimic the knot you’d just demonstrated.

“you’re not paying attention,” you teased, a smirk tugging at your lips.

jake blinked, startled, his focus snapping back to the task at hand. “i am! just… distracted.”

“by what?” you asked, though you already knew the answer.

jake gave you a sidelong glance, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “you.”

the simplicity of his answer caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. instead, you dropped your gaze back to the knot in your hands, suddenly aware of how close he was, of the warmth radiating from his body. you could feel your heart beating faster, the tension between you thick enough to cut.

“you’ll never get this right if you don’t focus,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, though it betrayed you with a slight tremor.

he grinned, leaning in just a little closer. “maybe i like the distraction.”

you shot him a look, a warning in your eyes, but there was no denying the thrill that shot through you at his words. you couldn’t afford to let this get out of hand, not when your life was already so unpredictable, so full of danger. but with every passing day, it was getting harder to resist him.

later that evening, you found yourself on the ship’s bow, staring out at the horizon as the sun dipped below the water, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold. it was a rare moment of peace, and you savoured it, breathing in the salty air, your mind wandering back to jake. you couldn’t help but think about how he’d changed, how he’d adapted to life at sea, how he no longer seemed like the pampered prince who’d stumbled onto your ship. he was different now—stronger, more capable. and more dangerous to your heart.

“can i join you?”

his voice broke through your thoughts, and you glanced over to see jake standing there, his eyes soft but serious.

you gave a small nod, and he came to stand beside you, his shoulder brushing yours in that familiar way that made your pulse quicken. for a few moments, neither of you spoke, the quiet between you comfortable, yet charged with the unspoken feelings that lingered just beneath the surface.

“i’ve been thinking about what you said,” jake began, his voice low. “about why you chose this life.”

you stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.

“i get it now,” he said, his gaze focused on the horizon. “why you need to be in control. why freedom means so much to you. i never understood it before, but now… after being here, after seeing what it’s like to live by your own rules, i do.”

you felt a flicker of something inside you—pride, maybe. or was it something more?

“i thought i had it all figured out,” he admitted, turning to look at you. “the throne, the kingdom, duty… it all seemed so clear. but being here with you, seeing this world, i don’t know if i can go back to that. not anymore.”

his words hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. you met his gaze, searching his eyes for the truth. there was something raw there, something vulnerable that made your heart ache.

“jake…” you began, unsure of what to say, but he shook his head.

“you don’t have to say anything,” he said softly. “i just… i wanted you to know.”

for a moment, you let the silence wash over you, the sound of the waves filling the space between your words. you’d been so careful with him, so wary of letting your guard down, but every day, jake was breaking through the walls you’d built, piece by piece. and now, standing here with him under the setting sun, you weren’t sure you could hold those walls up any longer.

without thinking, you reached out, your hand brushing against his. it was a small gesture, but it felt monumental, like the beginning of something you couldn’t take back. he turned his hand over, his fingers lacing with yours, and the simple act made your chest tighten.

“i’ve never felt like this before,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “not with anyone.”

your heart skipped a beat, and before you could stop yourself, you looked up at him, the weight of his words sinking in. the intensity in his gaze was unmistakable, and for the first time, you let yourself acknowledge what had been growing between you all along.

“i don’t know where this is going,” you admitted, your voice quiet but steady. “but… i don’t want to lose it.”

he smiled then, a soft, genuine smile that made your heart ache. “neither do i.”

the moment stretched between you, fragile but full of promise, and as the last rays of sunlight dipped below the horizon, you felt something shift. this wasn’t just an adventure anymore. this was something real, something that neither of you could walk away from easily.

the days that followed were filled with a growing sense of companionship—a rhythm that had started to form between you and jake. he worked alongside you, learning the ways of the ship with more ease than you’d ever expected. he was no longer the prince you’d kidnapped for ransom; he was becoming something more, something you couldn’t quite define.

and in the quiet moments, when it was just the two of you—whether it was a shared glance across the deck, a fleeting touch as you passed each other, or the way he’d sit beside you in the evening to watch the stars—you could feel the bond between you deepening, becoming something you couldn’t deny.

but with that closeness came a growing fear. you knew what you were, what your life entailed. could someone like jake truly leave behind everything he’d ever known? could you let him?

those questions weighed heavy on your mind, but for now, you pushed them aside. because in these moments, with jake by your side, nothing else seemed to matter.

the early morning sun was barely cresting over the horizon when you called the crew to attention. the crisp sea breeze was laced with anticipation, the crew bustling with a mix of eagerness and nerves. you’d spotted a merchant vessel the day before—heavily laden, from the look of it, and poorly defended. an easy mark.

jake stood on the periphery, watching with a furrowed brow as you barked out orders, your voice carrying over the creak of the ship’s rigging.

“jungwon, take the helm. we’ll come up on their starboard side, quick and clean. no unnecessary risks.”

“aye, captain,” jungwon replied, his usual easygoing demeanour sharpened with focus. he threw a quick, reassuring grin at jake as he moved to his post. “don’t worry, pretty boy. we’ll be in and out before you know it.”

jake forced a smile, but his unease was palpable. he hadn’t quite reconciled the thrill of adventure with the reality of what you did to survive. watching you prepare for an attack, your face set in a mask of steely determination, twisted something in his chest.

the attack was swift and efficient. your crew moved like a pack of wolves, swarming the merchant vessel with practised ease. jake watched from the deck, his heart pounding in his chest as he took in the scene before him.

you were at the forefront, your sword gleaming as you faced down the terrified sailors. “surrender, and no harm will come to you!” you shouted, your voice carrying over the chaos. the merchant crew hesitated, their eyes darting between you and your men, before they dropped their weapons, their faces pale with fear.

jake’s stomach twisted as he watched the exchange. this wasn’t some grand adventure. this was real, and it was brutal. his hands gripped the railing, his knuckles white. he’d never seen you like this—so fierce, so commanding. and it scared him.

your crew moved quickly, securing the cargo and transferring the goods back to your ship. jake felt sick as he watched, a deep, uncomfortable knot forming in his gut. these weren’t just nameless strangers; they were people whose lives you were upending, and you did it with the kind of ruthless efficiency that made his blood run cold.

when the last crate was loaded, you ordered your crew back to the ship, your eyes scanning the merchant sailors one last time. you caught sight of jake watching you, his face a mask of barely concealed horror. you felt a pang of something you couldn’t quite name—regret, maybe? but you pushed it aside, reminding yourself that this was the life you’d chosen. the life you’d built.

back on your ship, the crew erupted into cheers as they inventoried the haul. gold, spices, fine fabrics—it was a good day’s work. but jake was silent, standing apart from the celebration, his expression closed off.

you approached him, a hint of unease curling in your stomach. “what’s wrong? i thought you’d be happy. we didn’t even have to draw blood.”

he looked at you, disbelief etched across his features. “happy? you think i’d be happy about this?”

your brows furrowed. “we got what we needed without anyone getting hurt. that’s a win in my book.”

jake let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “a win? you call this a win?” he gestured towards the merchant ship, now a shrinking speck on the horizon. “you just robbed them off everything. and you’re acting like it’s just another day.”

“it is just another day,” you shot back, irritation flaring. “this is what we do. this is how we survive.”

“survive?” his voice rose, drawing the attention of the nearby crew. “you’re a pirate, not some misunderstood hero! you kidnap people, you steal, and you’re telling me this is survival?”

your temper flared at the accusation in his tone. “what did you think this was, jake? a fairytale? you’re the one who got himself into this mess, stumbling around drunk at the port. did you think pirates were just misunderstood adventurers?”

he glared at you, his hands shaking with barely contained anger. “i didn’t have a choice! you kidnapped me, remember? i didn’t ask for any of this.”

you scoffed, folding your arms over your chest. “you didn’t seem to mind when you were running around the ship, trying to fit in. what, did you think this was some grand adventure for you to play at being someone else? wake up, jake. this is real. this is my life.”

his eyes flashed with something like betrayal. “i thought… i thought you were different. i thought there was more to you than this.”

you felt a sharp pang at his words, but you pushed it down, your expression hardening. “this is all there is. i’m a pirate. this is what i do. what did you expect?”

“i don’t know!” he shouted, his voice cracking. “i just… seeing you like that, taking everything from those people, it’s not what i thought you were.”

you took a step closer, your voice low and tense. “and what did you think i was, jake? some poor soul forced into this life against my will? i chose this. every bit of it. i’m not some damsel in distress waiting to be saved. i’m the captain of this ship, and i do what i have to do to keep us alive.”

he looked at you, his eyes searching your face as if trying to find something he’d lost. “i don’t know. i just… i thought there was something good here. something more.”

your heart ached at the raw honesty in his voice, but you forced yourself to stay firm. “maybe there is, but it’s buried under a lot of bad. and if you can’t accept that, then maybe you don’t belong here.”

his face went pale, his mouth opening and closing as if he couldn’t find the words. finally, he turned on his heel and walked away, his shoulders stiff with barely suppressed anger.

you watched him go, the ache in your chest growing with every step he took. you’d known this moment would come eventually—that he’d see the darker side of your world and struggle to accept it. but seeing the disappointment in his eyes, the way he looked at you as if you were a stranger, was more painful than you’d expected.

the days that followed the raid were tense, the air thick with unresolved tension. jake remained distant, his demeanour cold and closed off. he threw himself into the work, no longer seeking out your guidance or approval. it was as if he’d built a wall around himself, one that you weren’t sure how to break down.

you found yourself watching him more often than you cared to admit, hoping that somehow, some way, you could find your way back to each other. your heart ached with the weight of everything left unsaid. he was different now—his boyish enthusiasm had been replaced with a grim determination that made your chest tighten. he still did his part, working alongside the crew, but there was no spark in his eyes, no hint of the person who’d once looked at the world with such wonder.

jungwon, ever perceptive, noticed the shift as well. he caught your eye one evening as you stood at the helm, the setting sun casting a golden glow over the deck.

“he’s still not talking to you?” he asked, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

you shook your head, your gaze fixed on jake’s distant figure. “no. he barely even looks at me.”

jungwon frowned, glancing over at the prince, who was helping tie down some loose ropes with a mechanical precision. “he’s hurt. you can see it in the way he carries himself. he’s not used to this life, and he’s struggling to find his place.”

you sighed, rubbing a hand over your face. “i know. i just… i don’t know what to say to him. i tried explaining, but it just made things worse.”

jungwon’s gaze softened as he looked at you, his voice gentle. “he’s not just angry about the raid. he’s angry because he feels like he doesn’t belong. and maybe… maybe he’s starting to realise that this life isn’t what he thought it would be.”

“or maybe he’s starting to realise that he doesn’t want to be here at all,” you murmured, the words tasting bitter on your tongue.

jungwon reached out, his hand brushing lightly against your arm in a gesture of comfort. “give him time. he’ll come around. he cares about you more than you think.”

you managed a small smile, grateful for his support. “thanks, jungwon.”

unbeknownst to you, jake had been watching from the shadows, his jaw clenched as he took in the easy rapport between you and jungwon. he couldn’t hear your words, but he saw the way jungwon’s hand lingered on your arm, the way your expression softened when you spoke to him.

something ugly twisted in jake’s chest, a hot, burning sensation that he couldn’t quite name. it wasn’t just anger or hurt—it was jealousy, raw and unfiltered. he hated the way jungwon looked at you, the way he seemed to understand you in a way that jake couldn’t.

jake tore his gaze away, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand. but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the image of you and jungwon, couldn’t rid himself of the gnawing sense of inadequacy that clawed at his insides.

later that evening, as the crew gathered for dinner on the deck, jake sat apart from the others, his shoulders hunched and his eyes downcast. you glanced over at him, your heart aching at the sight of his isolation, but you didn’t know how to bridge the gap that had grown between you.

instead, you turned your attention to jungwon, who was recounting a particularly wild story from your early days on the ship. he had the crew laughing, their voices mingling with the sound of the waves, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to relax, to forget about the tension that lingered between you and jake.

jake, however, couldn’t take his eyes off you. the sound of your laughter, the way your eyes sparkled when you looked at jungwon—it was all too much. he felt like an outsider, like he didn’t belong here, and the realisation hurt more than he’d expected.

he stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the deck. the sudden movement drew everyone’s attention, and the laughter died away as the crew turned to look at him.

“i’m going to get some air,” jake muttered, his voice tight.

he didn’t wait for a response, pushing past the crew and heading towards the bow of the ship. you watched him go, your heart sinking. you wanted to follow, to talk to him, but something held you back.

“go after him,” jungwon said quietly, his eyes understanding.

you hesitated, your gaze flicking between jungwon and jake’s retreating figure. “he doesn’t want to talk to me.”

jungwon shook his head. “he’s hurting, captain. he needs to hear it from you.”

with a deep breath, you nodded, standing up and making your way across the deck. jake was leaning against the railing, his back to you, his shoulders tense.

“jake,” you called softly, your voice almost lost in the sound of the waves.

he didn’t turn around. “what do you want?”

you winced at the coldness in his tone, but you pressed on. “i just… i wanted to check on you. you’ve been distant.”

he let out a bitter laugh, finally turning to face you. “distant? what did you expect, captain? you kidnap me, drag me onto this ship, and now you’re surprised that i don’t want to be here?”

your heart sank at the pain in his voice. “i know you didn’t ask for this. but i’m trying to—”

“to what?” he interrupted, his eyes flashing with anger. “to make me feel better about being a prisoner on your ship? to make me forget that you’re a pirate who steals and kills for a living?”

you flinched, the words hitting harder than you’d expected. “i never said i was perfect, jake. i told you from the beginning what this life was.”

“and i was stupid enough to believe that there was something more!” he shouted, his voice raw. “i thought i could be a part of this. i thought maybe, just maybe, i could find a place here. but all i’ve done is fool myself.”

you took a step closer, your voice trembling. “jake, please—”

he held up a hand, cutting you off. “don’t. just… don’t. i can’t keep doing this, pretending that i’m okay with everything. i’m not like you, and i never will be.”

the truth of his words stung, and for a moment, you couldn’t find your voice. when you finally spoke, it was barely more than a whisper. “i know. and i’m sorry.”

he looked at you, his eyes filled with a pain so deep it made your chest ache. “why, then? why did you take me?”

you hesitated, the truth hovering on the tip of your tongue. because i needed the ransom. because i thought i could use you. 

because i didn’t know i’d fall for you.

but you couldn’t say any of that, not now. not when the wounds were still so fresh.

instead, you looked away, your voice hollow. “i don’t know.”

jake shook his head, a bitter smile twisting his lips. “of course you don’t.”

he turned away, leaving you standing alone, your heart heavy with the weight of everything unsaid.

for the rest of the evening, jake kept his distance, his eyes avoiding yours. and every time he saw you with jungwon, his jealousy flared anew, the bitterness and hurt twisting inside him until he didn’t know how to feel anything else.

he hated that he cared so much, hated that he couldn’t just turn off his feelings and move on. but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop thinking about you, couldn’t stop wanting to be the one who made you smile like that.

and that, more than anything, was what hurt the most.

by the time the storm hit, the ship was already teetering on the edge of chaos. the sky had darkened to an unnatural shade of black, casting an eerie glow over the sea. you could feel the tension in the air, thick with the scent of saltwater and the low rumble of thunder in the distance. the crew moved with swift precision, tightening ropes, pulling down sails, and preparing for the onslaught.

“captain!” jungwon shouted from the helm, barely audible over the howling wind. “it’s coming in fast!”

“i see it,” you yelled back, your grip on the wheel tightening. the waves were already towering above the ship, slamming into the hull with relentless fury. the sea had turned into a churning monster, eager to consume you all.

you barked out orders, your voice cutting through the wind. “secure the cargo! bring down the main sail! everyone, brace yourselves!”

the crew scrambled to follow your commands, each member pushing their physical limits to keep the ship afloat. jake, amidst the chaos, worked alongside them, gripping onto ropes and securing what he could, his body soaked from the torrential downpour. every crack of thunder seemed to echo in his head, louder than the storm itself. but it wasn’t the storm he feared most—it was the words he'd spat out at you the day before.

he hadn’t meant to be cruel. but he was frustrated, confused, and angry at the life he’d been dragged into—kidnapped, held for ransom, now caught in a dangerous storm that could end his life. jake’s privilege had always shielded him from real danger, but now it was all crashing down.

and yet, as the storm raged around him, none of that mattered. all he could think about was the last thing he’d said to you. he had lashed out, criticising your life, your choices, the very thing you were good at. he’d pushed you away when all you had done was show him the kind of freedom he’d never known.

lightning cracked across the sky, illuminating the deck in a blinding flash, and for a moment, jake lost his grip. he stumbled, caught by jungwon before a wave could sweep him away.

“focus!” jungwon snapped, his voice firm, though concern flickered in his eyes. “we need everyone working together if we’re going to survive this!”

jake nodded, shaking off the dizziness as he grabbed hold of the rigging once more. the storm was relentless, tossing the ship like a toy. but even as he fought through the wind and rain, all he could think about was you—where were you? were you safe? had you forgiven him for what he said?

the minutes dragged into hours, the storm refusing to relent. the crew battled through every wave, every gust of wind, holding the ship together by sheer force of will. you stood at the helm, drenched to the bone but unyielding. you steered the ship with a deft hand, navigating through the chaos like you had done so many times before. but even in the middle of the storm, your thoughts flickered back to jake. his words still lingered, stinging more than you cared to admit. you had grown used to resistance, to judgement, but hearing it from him—it had hit differently.

just as you thought the storm might break you, the winds began to ease. the rain slowed to a steady drizzle, and the waves, while still rough, were no longer threatening to capsize the ship. you gave a sigh of relief, wiping the water from your face, and began issuing new orders to your crew. “jungwon, check the sails. everyone else, assess the damage!”

but jake had only one thing on his mind. as the crew scattered to settle the ship, his eyes darted around the deck, looking for you. his heart pounded in his chest, panic rising when he couldn’t immediately spot you.

“where’s the captain?” he demanded, his voice frantic as he grabbed the nearest crew member by the arm. “where is she?”

“i saw her near the helm last,” the man replied, but that didn’t quell jake’s fear. he pushed past the others, slipping on the slick deck, his stomach churning not from the storm but from the thought of losing you without making things right.

“captain!” he called, voice hoarse. “captain!”

the ship creaked and groaned underfoot as jake searched every corner, every shadowed space, his heart sinking deeper with each second that passed. he cursed himself—why had he let his pride get in the way? he was stupid, reckless, and now he feared he might never get the chance to apologise.

finally, as he rounded the corner near the aft deck, he saw you. you were there with jungwon, overseeing the crew as they worked to fix the sails, your face set with focus, exhaustion evident in the lines around your eyes. relief flooded through him, but it was quickly overshadowed by concern as he noticed the strain in your posture.

without thinking, jake rushed toward you. his presence startled you, and you turned quickly, eyes widening at the sight of him approaching you with such urgency.

“jake?” you asked, surprised. “are you alright?”

he didn’t answer right away, his eyes trailing over your figure as if making sure you were unharmed. then you noticed the gash on his forearm, blood trickling down his skin.

“god, what happened?” you immediately stepped closer, grabbing his arm to examine the wound. “you’re hurt.”

“it’s nothing,” jake muttered, brushing it off. but he couldn’t hide the way his voice cracked, the emotion catching in his throat. “i… i was so scared i’d lost you.”

your hands paused, and you looked up at him, taken aback by the raw vulnerability in his voice. “i’m fine,” you reassured him, though your heart hammered in your chest. “i can take care of myself, jake.”

“i know,” he breathed, his voice thick with regret. “but i’ve been an idiot. i said things i didn’t mean. i didn’t realise how much i need you… until i thought i might never see you again.”

before you could respond, jake stepped closer, his hand slipping behind your neck, pulling you toward him. the tension between you snapped, and without warning, he crushed his lips against yours in a fierce, desperate kiss. the world around you seemed to still, the aftermath of the storm disappearing as your body pressed into his. his kiss was filled with all the words he hadn’t said, all the regret and longing, and you found yourself kissing him back with equal fervour.

when he finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, his forehead resting against yours. “i’m sorry,” he whispered. “for everything.”

you stared up at him, your heart pounding in your chest, unsure how to respond. but one thing was clear—despite everything, the bond between you was unbreakable.

with the storm finally behind you and the ship no longer being tossed like a toy in the waves, you took a deep breath. jake was still standing beside you, a stubborn presence even as you directed the crew to restore order. his earlier kiss lingered in your mind, a distraction that you couldn’t afford to indulge in just yet.

“jungwon, see to the crew. make sure the rigging is secure and check the hold for any water,” you instructed, your voice carrying across the deck.

jungwon gave you a nod, casting a brief, assessing glance at jake before turning away to rally the crew. you turned back to the prince, his forearm still marked by the cut from earlier, a thin line of blood staining the makeshift bandage.

“you’re hurt,” you stated, gesturing to his arm. he glanced down at it as if only just remembering.

“it’s nothing,” he dismissed, though his voice was softer now, lacking the earlier bravado.

“come on,” you said, leading him below deck. he followed without argument, and you found yourself acutely aware of his presence behind you, the air thick with unspoken words and lingering tension.

once inside your small cabin, you gestured for him to sit. the room was dimly lit, the single lantern casting long shadows on the wooden walls. you rummaged through a chest, pulling out a clean cloth and a small flask of rum. “this is going to sting a bit,” you warned.

“i’ve had worse,” he muttered, but his eyes never left you as you approached. you wet the cloth and began to clean the wound, your fingers brushing his skin lightly. despite his attempt at indifference, you saw the way his jaw tightened, his breath hitching slightly as you worked.

you tried to focus on the task at hand, but it was impossible to ignore the heat radiating from his body, the way his gaze seemed to burn into you. his closeness was overwhelming, and you found your hands trembling slightly as you wrapped a bandage around his arm.

“there,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper as you tied off the bandage. you looked up, meaning to step back, but he caught your wrist, his touch gentle but insistent.

“thank you,” he murmured, his voice low. his eyes were dark, filled with an intensity that made your heart race.

you nodded, trying to pull away, but he didn’t let go. “it’s just a bandage, jake.”

“it’s more than that,” he insisted, his thumb brushing over your pulse point. “after everything i said… you didn’t have to help me.”

you shrugged, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. “you’re part of my crew now. it’s my job to keep you safe.”

his lips quirked up in a small, almost sad smile. “am i really just another crew member to you?”

you opened your mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. the truth was, you didn’t know what he was to you anymore. he was supposed to be a means to an end—a captive, a ransom. but somewhere along the line, things had shifted, and now you were standing here, your heart hammering in your chest as he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered.

“jake…” you started, but his name died on your lips as he pulled you closer. your knees bumped against his, your hands coming to rest on his shoulders instinctively. his grip on your wrist loosened, his hand sliding up to your waist, pulling you between his legs. you could feel the heat of his body, the steady beat of his heart beneath your palms.

“i’ve been an ass,” he admitted, his voice raw, filled with regret. “i didn’t mean what i said before.”

you swallowed hard, your gaze dropping to his lips, so close, so tempting. “you were right, though. i am a pirate, jake. this is what i do. i don’t… i don’t know how to be anything else.”

he shook his head, his eyes never leaving yours. “you’re more than that. you’re… incredible.”

your breath caught at the sincerity in his voice. you opened your mouth to say something, but then his hand was cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing over your lips in a feather-light caress.

“i’ve been thinking about you,” he confessed, his voice barely more than a whisper. “about this… since the first night.”

you couldn’t find the words to respond, your heart pounding in your ears. the air between you felt electric, every nerve in your body screaming for you to close the distance, to give in to the desire that had been simmering between you for weeks.

“jake, we shouldn’t—” but your protest was cut off as he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a tentative, almost hesitant kiss. it was so different from the heat and passion of before, soft and searching, as if he were giving you a chance to pull away.

but you didn’t want to pull away. you kissed him back, your hands tangling in his hair as you pressed closer, your body aching for more. his hands tightened on your waist, pulling you into his lap, and you went willingly, your legs straddling his as his mouth moved against yours with growing urgency.

the kiss deepened, his tongue teasing against yours as his hands roamed over your back, your sides, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. you gasped into his mouth as he pulled you tighter against him, your bodies fitting together perfectly. the cabin seemed to shrink around you, the world narrowing to the feel of his hands, his mouth, the way he held you like he never wanted to let go.

when you finally broke apart, both of you breathing hard, he rested his forehead against yours, his hands still cradling your face. “tell me you want this,” he whispered, his voice rough with desire. “tell me i’m not the only one.”

you could barely catch your breath, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it. “i… i don’t know what this is, jake. but i want it. i want you.”

his smile was pure relief, his arms wrapping around you as he kissed you again, slower this time, savouring the moment. and as you melted against him, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw, his neck, you knew that whatever came next, you were in this together.

the ship rocked gently beneath you, the storm outside a distant memory as you lost yourself in him, in the taste of his lips, the feel of his hands. and for the first time in a long while, you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, you deserved this—deserved him.

when you both finally stilled, breathless and spent, the world slowly came back into focus. you stayed there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the cabin filled with the soft sounds of your breathing. for a long moment, neither of you spoke, the aftermath of what had just happened settling over you like a warm blanket.

jake’s hands traced lazy patterns on your back, his forehead resting against yours. “i didn’t plan on this,” he murmured, a smile tugging at his lips.

you laughed softly, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “neither did i.”

he pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours. “but i’m glad it happened.”

your heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in his voice. you nodded, your hand cupping his cheek. “me too.”

the storm outside had passed, but you knew this was just the beginning of another, one that was brewing between the two of you—a storm you were more than willing to weather.

the first light of dawn filtered through the small cabin window, casting a soft, golden glow over the room. you stirred, the warmth beside you a comforting reminder of the night before. slowly, you opened your eyes, turning your head to find jake still asleep beside you.

his hair was tousled, a few strands falling over his closed eyes, and his lips were slightly parted, a peaceful expression softening his features. in the quiet stillness of the morning, he looked almost boyish, a stark contrast to the fierce, determined prince you’d come to know. you couldn’t help but smile, your heart swelling with a mixture of affection and something deeper, something that scared you more than you cared to admit.

you took a moment to drink him in, tracing the lines of his face with your eyes—the strong jaw, the curve of his mouth, the way his lashes fanned out against his cheeks. it was a rare thing to see him like this, so unguarded, so vulnerable. he’d given himself to you completely last night, in a way that went beyond just physical closeness. he’d trusted you, opened himself up in a way that left you feeling raw and exposed.

but as you watched him, the warmth in your chest began to cool, replaced by a creeping sense of dread. what were you doing? what had you done?

jake was a prince, destined for a life of duty and luxury, a world so far removed from the rough, uncertain life you led. he had responsibilities, people who depended on him. and you… you were a pirate, an outlaw with blood on your hands and a past you could never escape. what kind of future could you offer him? a life on the run, hiding from the law, facing danger at every turn?

you bit your lip, a knot forming in your stomach. no matter how much you cared for him, how much you wanted to keep him close, you couldn’t ignore the truth. jake deserved better than this. better than you. he deserved a life where he didn’t have to look over his shoulder, where he could live freely, surrounded by those who loved and respected him.

a pang of guilt shot through you as you remembered the way he’d looked at you last night, his eyes filled with something you were afraid to name. you’d seen that look before, on the faces of those who’d dared to care for you, to get too close. and every time, without fail, you’d ended up hurting them, pushing them away for their own good.

you couldn’t do that to jake. he’d already given up so much, already risked so much. he needed to go back, to the castle, to his people. even if he didn’t want to, even if it meant breaking your own heart in the process, you had to let him go.

a soft sigh drew your attention back to him as he stirred, his eyes fluttering open. for a moment, he seemed disoriented, his gaze unfocused as he took in his surroundings. then his eyes found yours, and a slow, sleepy smile spread across his face.

“morning,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep. he reached out, his fingers brushing over your cheek, and you felt your resolve waver. “didn’t think i’d ever wake up to see you looking at me like this.”

you forced a smile, your heart aching as you leaned into his touch. “you make it sound like i’m some heartless pirate.”

he chuckled softly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “well, you do have a reputation to uphold.”

“don’t remind me,” you muttered, trying to keep your tone light even as the weight of your decision pressed down on you. you couldn’t let him see how much this was tearing you apart. if he knew, he’d never leave, never let you push him away. and that would be the worst thing you could do—to both of you.

he shifted, propping himself up on his elbow, his gaze never leaving your face. “you’re quiet this morning. something on your mind?”

you swallowed hard, forcing yourself to hold his gaze. “just… thinking about everything that’s happened. the storm, the crew… us.”

a flicker of concern crossed his face, but he quickly masked it, his hand moving to rest on your waist. “are you having second thoughts?”

“no, i—” you broke off, struggling to find the right words. how could you explain what you were feeling without giving too much away? “i just… i don’t want you to regret this. any of this.”

he frowned, his brow furrowing as he studied you. “why would i regret it?”

“because you’re not supposed to be here, jake,” you said, your voice thick with emotion. “you’re a prince. you have a duty, a life back at the castle. this—us—it’s not… it’s not real.”

his grip on you tightened, his eyes darkening. “not real? after everything we’ve been through, everything i’ve felt—” he shook his head, his voice rising with frustration. “how can you say that?”

“because it’s the truth,” you whispered, tears stinging your eyes. “you’re only here because i took you. you’re supposed to be at the castle, marrying some princess, doing what’s best for your kingdom.”

“is that what you think?” his voice was low, dangerous, the intensity in his gaze almost too much to bear. “that i’d rather be locked away in some castle, living a life that’s been decided for me?”

“it’s where you belong,” you insisted, hating the way your voice wavered, betraying the turmoil inside you. “you deserve a life of dignity, of safety. not this—”

“i don’t care about that!” he burst out, his frustration giving way to desperation. “don’t you get it? i don’t want that life. i want to be here, with you. i don’t care about the kingdom, or the title, or any of it if it means losing you.”

you closed your eyes, his words cutting through you like a knife. this was exactly what you’d been afraid of. he was willing to throw everything away for you, and you couldn’t let him do that. you had to be the strong one, had to protect him—even if it meant breaking his heart.

“jake…” you began, your voice trembling. “i don’t want you here. you’re just… a reminder of what i can never have, of the life i can never give you.”

his eyes widened, shock and hurt flashing across his face. “what are you saying?”

“i’m saying you need to leave,” you forced out, the words tasting like ash on your tongue. “you need to go back to your world and forget about me.”

he stared at you, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he processed your words. “no. i won’t do it. i won’t leave you.”

“you have to,” you insisted, your heart breaking with every word. “please, jake. it’s better this way.”

“better for who?” he demanded, his voice shaking. “for you? because it sure as hell isn’t better for me.”

tears spilled down your cheeks as you shook your head, your vision blurring. “you’ll understand one day. you’ll see that i’m right.”

“no,” he said again, his voice firm. “you’re wrong. you’re wrong about everything. and i’m going to prove it to you.”

before you could respond, he stood up, turning his back on you. the door to your cabin slammed shut behind him, the sound echoing in the silence that followed, leaving you alone with your shattered resolve and the aching emptiness where he’d been.

the days passed in a blur, each one bringing you closer to the inevitable. jake, true to his word, threw himself into life on the ship, trying to prove his worth. he took on every task with determination, learning the ropes, quite literally, and working harder than you’d ever seen him work. he pushed himself, and when the crew tried to tell him he didn’t need to, he pushed harder.

you watched him, your heart breaking a little more each day. he was trying so hard, trying to show you that he belonged here, that he could be part of your world. and every time he looked at you, with that stubborn, desperate hope in his eyes, it took everything in you not to break down, not to tell him the truth.

he didn’t know, couldn’t know, that it was too late. your course was already set, the ship heading back to his kingdom. you’d made your decision, and nothing he did would change it. you’d see him safely home, even if it meant tearing your own heart out in the process.

each night, when the crew had gone to sleep and the ship sailed through the quiet, dark sea, you stood at the helm, gripping the wheel tightly, your knuckles white with the force of it. jungwon had tried to talk to you, his eyes full of worry, but you’d brushed him off. there was nothing he could say that would make this any easier.

you were doing the right thing. you had to keep telling yourself that.

the day you saw the outline of the kingdom on the horizon, your heart clenched painfully in your chest. the castle loomed in the distance, its towers stark against the morning sky. you took a deep breath, bracing yourself for what was to come.

jake was below deck, sleeping in your cabin. he’d pushed himself to exhaustion the night before, working late into the night, and you knew he wouldn’t wake for hours. it was better this way. he wouldn’t fight you, wouldn’t try to stop you.

you steered the ship into the harbour, the crew working quietly, their usual banter subdued. they knew what this meant, what it would cost you, and they respected your decision, even if they didn’t fully understand it.

“captain,” jungwon said softly, coming to stand beside you. his eyes were full of unspoken questions, his expression a mixture of sadness and concern.

you nodded, your throat tight. “get him ready to disembark.”

jungwon hesitated, then sighed, turning away to do as you’d asked. you watched him go, your heart aching. this was it. there was no turning back now.

when you went down to the cabin, jake was still asleep, his face peaceful, a small frown creasing his brow. you stood in the doorway, your chest constricting painfully as you watched him. you wanted to remember him like this, wanted to etch this moment into your memory, because you knew it was the last you’d have.

carefully, you knelt beside the bed, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. he stirred, murmuring something in his sleep, and your heart twisted. you leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his temple, your lips lingering for just a moment.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “i’m so sorry, jake.”

then you stood, turning away before the tears could fall. you couldn’t let him see you like this. you couldn’t let him see how much this was tearing you apart.

by the time jake woke, the ship was docked at the harbour, the kingdom spread out before him. he sat up, confusion crossing his face as he took in the unfamiliar surroundings. he swung his legs over the side of the bed, his movements sluggish, still groggy from sleep.

“where…?” he trailed off, his eyes widening as he realised where he was. “no, no, no…”

panic seized him as he stumbled to his feet, rushing to the door. he burst out onto the deck, his eyes wild as he looked around, searching for you.

you were standing near the gangplank, your back to him. jungwon was beside you, his expression tense as he spoke in low tones. jake’s heart pounded in his chest as he took in the scene, dread pooling in his stomach.

“what is this?” he demanded, his voice hoarse. “what’s going on?”

you turned at the sound of his voice, your face carefully blank. his heart clenched at the sight of you, the pain in his chest almost unbearable. “we’re at your kingdom,” you said, your tone calm, too calm. “you’re going home.”

“home?” he stared at you, disbelief and betrayal warring in his eyes. “i don’t—this isn’t my home!”

“it’s where you belong,” you said quietly, your gaze unwavering. “it’s where you need to be.”

“no,” he said fiercely, taking a step towards you. “no, you don’t get to decide that. you don’t get to just—just drop me off like some—”

“jake,” you interrupted, your voice soft, almost gentle. “i’m doing this for you.”

he froze, his jaw clenching as he fought to hold back the anger, the hurt that was threatening to overwhelm him. “for me? you think i want this? you think i want to go back to being a prisoner in my own life?”

“you have responsibilities,” you said, your voice firm, but he could see the cracks in your composure, the way your hands trembled at your sides. “people who depend on you. a kingdom that needs you.”

“what about what i need?” he shouted, his voice breaking. “what about what i want? doesn’t that matter to you?”

you flinched, the words hitting you like a physical blow. “it does,” you whispered. “it matters more than you know.”

“then why?” he demanded, his voice desperate. “why are you doing this?”

“because i love you,” you said, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “and that’s why i have to let you go.”

jake stared at you, shock and pain etched on his face. for a moment, neither of you moved, the world around you fading away. then, slowly, the realisation dawned in his eyes, his expression hardening.

“no,” he said, his voice cold, distant. “no, you don’t love me. you’re just like everyone else. you’re just getting rid of me because i’m not worth the trouble.”

“jake—” you began, but he shook his head, his eyes blazing with anger.

“save it,” he snapped, turning away. “i don’t need your pity.”

you watched, helpless, as he strode down the gangplank, his back rigid, every line of his body radiating hurt and betrayal. he didn’t look back, didn’t give you a second glance as he disappeared into the crowd, leaving you standing there, alone, the pain of his words cutting deeper than any blade.

you’d done what you had to, what you knew was right. but as you watched him go, your heart breaking with every step he took, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d just made the biggest mistake of your life.

as the ship began to pull away from the dock, the distance between you growing with every passing moment, you forced yourself to look away, to turn your back on the sight of him disappearing into the crowd. this was for the best, you told yourself. for both of you.

but the hollow ache in your chest told a different story.

as jake stood alone in the opulent chambers of the royal palace, the silence was deafening. the familiar surroundings—grand tapestries, polished marble floors, the scent of the garden wafting in through the open windows—felt foreign, hollow even. he clenched his fists, a bitter knot tightening in his chest as the events of the last few hours played on a loop in his mind. 

you had brought him back. without a word, without a goodbye, you had returned him as if nothing had ever happened between them. had it all been a lie? 

his throat tightened with the weight of his suspicions. the thought clawed at him—maybe, just maybe, all you ever wanted was the ransom. perhaps every stolen glance, every shared laugh, every tender moment under the stars had been part of the game, just another ploy to keep him content until you could cash in on the prize. he tried to push the idea away, but it clung to him like a shadow, deepening his resentment. he felt foolish now for believing there had been something more, something real. 

the ache in his chest wasn’t just from the loss; it was from the sting of betrayal, the sinking realisation that maybe he had been nothing more than a tool, a pawn in your world of gold and greed. the woman he had begun to fall for… did you ever care for him at all? or had he been blinded by his own desires, seeing love where there was only cold calculation?

when he agreed to his father’s demands to marry the princess, he’d done it not out of duty but out of sheer numbness. if he couldn’t have the life he wanted, if you had rejected him and the world he longed for, then what was the point? it was easier to go through the motions, to let himself be swept along by the tide of duty, than to fight for something he thought was never real.

but everything changed a week before the wedding.

jungwon’s letter arrived without warning, delivered to him by a messenger under the cover of night. jake had almost dismissed it, almost crumpled it up and tossed it aside, but the familiar scrawl of the handwriting stopped him. he sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the seal—your crew’s seal—for what felt like an eternity before finally opening it.

the words inside shook him to his core.

jungwon’s letter was raw, honest, describing in painstaking detail how lost you’d been without him, how you’d thrown yourself into your new venture with a desperation that worried everyone around you. you were no longer the pirate captain they’d known, but a driven, almost frantic version of yourself, working relentlessly to turn over a new leaf.

“she’s doing this for you, jake, i’ve never seen her like this. she didn’t even bother about the ransom part of the deal”, jungwon had written.

“she loves you more than you can imagine. she’s trying to make herself worthy of you, trying to give you a future she thinks you deserve. but she’s falling apart, and it’s because she believes she made the right choice by letting you go.”

jake’s hands had trembled as he read the letter over and over, his heart pounding with every word. it was as if a fog had lifted, and for the first time, he saw everything clearly. you hadn’t let him go because you didn’t love him. you’d let him go because you thought it was what was best for him. you’d sacrificed your own happiness for his sake, and it was tearing you apart.

the letter had ended with a simple plea: “come back to us, jake. she needs you more than ever.”

the realisation hit him like a punch to the gut. he’d been wrong—so terribly, heartbreakingly wrong. and he wasn’t going to lose you again.

now, he stood outside his father’s chambers, his jaw clenched, his hands fisted at his sides. he took a deep breath, steeling himself, before pushing the heavy doors open and striding inside.

the king looked up from his desk, surprise flickering across his face at the sight of his son. “jake? what is it? you should be preparing for the wedding.”

jake ignored the tightness in his chest at the mention of the wedding. “i need to talk to you.”

the king frowned. “can it not wait? there’s much to be done—”

“no, it can’t wait,” jake interrupted, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument. he stepped closer, his heart racing, but his resolve unshakable. “i can’t go through with the wedding.”

silence fell over the room, thick and tense. the king’s eyes narrowed, his expression hardening. “what are you saying, jake?”

“i’m saying i can’t marry someone i don’t love,” jake said, his voice steady despite the storm of emotions roiling inside him. “and i can’t stay here, pretending to be happy when i’m not.”

the king rose from his chair, his face darkening with anger. “this is not about happiness. this is about duty, about securing the future of our kingdom. you can’t just walk away because of some—some fleeting infatuation!”

“it’s not infatuation!” jake’s voice rang out, sharp and defiant. he took a step forward, his eyes blazing. “i love her. and she loves me. she let me go because she thought it was best for me, but she’s wrong. the only place i belong is with her.”

“you belong here,” the king snapped, his voice cold and unyielding. “you are the prince, and soon you will be king. you have responsibilities—”

“what good is being king if i’m miserable?” jake shot back. “what good is a throne if i have to give up everything that makes life worth living?”

the king stared at him, his face a mask of disbelief and fury. “you’re being selfish, jake. this isn’t just about you. this is about our people, our legacy. you can’t throw it all away for some pirate.”

“she’s not just some pirate,” jake said, his voice low but fierce. “she’s everything. and i won’t lose her again.”

the king’s eyes flashed with anger, but jake stood his ground, his heart pounding in his chest. he knew he was risking everything, knew that defying his father like this could mean losing everything he’d ever known. but he didn’t care. not anymore.

“i’m asking you to let me go,” he said, his voice softer now, but no less determined. “i’ll do whatever you want, fulfil whatever duty you ask of me, but not this. not marriage. not a life without her.”

for a long moment, they stood there, father and son, locked in a silent battle of wills. then, slowly, the king’s shoulders slumped, the fire in his eyes dimming.

“you’re serious about this,” he said quietly, more a statement than a question.

jake nodded, his throat tight. “i’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.”

he sighed, the weight of the world seeming to settle on his shoulders. he looked at his son, really looked at him, and saw the pain, the determination, the desperate love that burned in his eyes.

“very well,” he said finally, his voice weary. “if this is what you truly want, i won’t stand in your way.”

jake’s heart leapt in his chest, hope surging through him. “thank you, father. you don’t know what this means to me.”

the king held up a hand, his expression stern. “but understand this, jake. if you walk away now, you may never have a place here again. are you prepared for that?”

jake met his gaze, his voice steady and unwavering. “i am. because the only place i need to be is with her.”

the king sighed again, then nodded slowly, a faint, bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. “then go, my son. and may you find the happiness you seek.”

jake didn’t wait for a second invitation. he turned and strode from the room, his heart pounding with anticipation, his mind racing. he had no time to waste.

he was going to find you, and he was going to bring you back, no matter what it took.

the sun hung low over the horizon, casting a golden glow across the beach as you sat on the soft, warm sand. the rhythmic sound of waves crashing against the shore filled the air, a soothing backdrop to your swirling thoughts. you watched the sun dip lower, painting the sky in shades of amber and crimson, yet your heart felt heavy with the memories of what had transpired over the past two months.

two months had passed since you left jake behind in his kingdom, believing you were making the right decision. in those weeks, you had poured yourself into your new life as a trade merchant, transforming your ship from a vessel of piracy to one of honest commerce. your crew had embraced the change, excited about the possibilities that lay ahead. the laughter and camaraderie on board had been a welcome distraction, yet every night, as you lay in your bunk, the loneliness crept in like a thief in the night.

on the surface, it looked like you were thriving. you had wealth, respect, and a steady stream of business flowing your way. but it was all a facade.

every time you closed your eyes, you saw his face. the way he’d looked at you that last night, so full of love and hope. you had thought it would get easier with time, but it hadn’t. the ache in your chest only grew, a constant, gnawing pain that no amount of success could soothe.

now that you were currently docked at his kingdom, you couldn’t help but think of him even more, your heart further clenching in pain.

sighing, you pulled your knees to your chest, resting your chin on them as you gazed out at the sea. what had you done? you had given up the one person who made you feel alive, who saw you for who you truly were. you had convinced yourself that you were doing the right thing by pushing him away, sparing him from a life filled with uncertainty and danger. but now, as you looked out at the horizon, you felt only regret. you were a businesswoman, yes, but you were also a woman in love, and it hurt like hell.

you looked out at the sea, your heart heavy. maybe it was time to let go of the past. maybe it was time to accept that you’d made your choice, and now you had to live with it, no matter how much it hurt.

but then, a voice—a familiar, beloved voice—shattered the silence.

“y/n!”

you froze, your heart leaping into your throat. you must be dreaming. it couldn’t be—

“y/n!”

your heart raced, a mixture of disbelief and hope flooding through you. you turned around, your breath catching in your throat. there he was—jake. he stood a few paces away, his hair tousled by the sea breeze, his expression a blend of determination and relief. he looked different, more rugged, yet the spark in his eyes was unmistakable.

“jake!” you exclaimed, scrambling to your feet. he ran toward you, and in that moment, everything else faded away. the world around you disappeared, and all that mattered was him.

he reached you in an instant, pulling you into his arms with such force that you stumbled, your feet sinking into the sand. you buried your face in his shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of salt and warmth. “i can’t believe it’s really you,” you murmured, your voice muffled against him.

his arms tightened around you, and you felt your heart swell. “jake, i—” you started, but he pulled back slightly, cupping your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had escaped your eyes.

“y/n, listen to me,” he said, his gaze fierce and unwavering. “i talked to my father. he finally understood. he gave me permission to leave the kingdom. i don’t want to be there without you. i want to be here, with you.”

your heart raced at his words. you had imagined this moment a thousand times, but now that it was here, you were overwhelmed with emotion. “but… what about your duties? your responsibilities?”

“i don’t care about any of that!” he replied, frustration threading his voice. “all that matters is you. i’ve been miserable without you. i thought i could move on, do what was expected of me, but i can’t. i love you, y/n.”

you felt a tear slip down your cheek, and you wiped it away with the back of your hand. “i love you too, but i thought i was protecting you by leaving. i didn’t want to hold you back from your future.”

jake shook his head, his expression softening. “you didn’t hold me back. you set me free. i realized that the life i wanted, the life i’ve always wanted, is the one i can have with you. i’ll figure out my place in this world, but i can’t do it without you.”

his words struck a chord deep within you, igniting a flicker of hope that had long been extinguished. “are you sure?” you asked, your voice trembling. “what if things get complicated again?”

“let them,” he said fiercely, his eyes locking onto yours. “i’m done pretending. i want to build a life with you, no matter how messy it gets.”

in that moment, your heart soared. you stepped closer, and before you could think twice, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down to you. his lips met yours, a sweet, electric connection that sent shivers down your spine. the kiss was everything you had missed—fierce, passionate, filled with the yearning that had built up between you during your time apart.

when you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other as you savoured the warmth of the moment. “you really mean it?” you asked, searching his eyes for any sign of doubt.

“i do,” he replied, his voice steady and sure. “you’re the only one i want. forever.”

with that, he pulled you close again, lifting you off your feet and spinning you around. laughter bubbled up between you as you revelled in the joy of being together once more. you felt lighter than you had in months, as if the weight of the world had been lifted from your shoulders.

as he set you down, jake took a step back, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “so, tell me about this new life of yours. a businesswoman, huh? i’m not sure i believe that.”

you laughed, a playful glint in your eye. “i’m serious! we’re now trading goods, sailing the seas, and—”

“trading goods? with pirates?” he teased, his brow raised in mock scepticism.

“hey! we’re honest merchants now,” you protested, crossing your arms playfully. “no more piracy!”

he chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “i’ll believe it when i see it.”

you leaned in closer, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, “you’ll see. we’ve got a shipment heading out next week, and i want you with us.”

his expression turned serious, a hint of determination in his eyes. “i’m in. whatever it takes, i’m by your side.”

in that moment, you both knew that the past didn’t matter anymore. you were no longer defined by your choices; you were defined by your love for each other. the future stretched before you like the vast, open sea, filled with endless possibilities.

and as you stood there on the beach, wrapped in each other’s arms, you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together. your hearts were finally aligned, ready to sail into the horizon of your new life.

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 ©𝗴𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗿𝘆𝘆 on Tumblr

˚ · .𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱

taglist: @yuniesluv @isa942572 @academiq @missychief1404 @kxppachu (the rest are tagged in a reblog!)

[danhoneyyysblog]

hihihihi!! hope ur having a good day!!!

could.. I request Scar with a reader who’s mainly centered around a jellyfish? like, their movements are always smooth, and they kinda resemble a humanoid jellyfish!!

thanks for your time :3

author note: hey, i’ve been having an amazing day so far! I FINALLY GOT JIYAN AT 68 PITY!!! hope you are doing great! and this idea is SO CUTE! Scar being the silly, crazy guy he is with a reader who acts so similar to a jellyfish, i absolutely love that!

❝GOODNESS! YOU’RE SO CUTE. I MAY AS WELL MAKE YOU INTO A JELLO-FISH TO EAT UP!❞

CHARACTERS MENTIONED: Scar x Gender-Neutral! Reader, Rover, Phrolova.

WARNING, MAY CONTAIN: may be slight ooc — as game recently released, simple information on each character. if you don’t enjoy ooc, don’t suggest! (reader) in third person (they/them/their), an accidental kiss - supposed to be CPR, mentions of petnames (jello-fish), mentions of being taught without having a clue on what’s going on, mentions of kissing.

Days pass by in Jinzhou - one of Huanglong's six major cities. To add onto that, the only city in the Outer Huanglong, as it is one of the recent cities established in Huanglong and could be addressed to 'the throat of Huanglong'. It appears to be nestled within a great lake, embraced by the waters and cradled by the mountains. Jinzhou may be beautiful, but it doesn't stop the fact how dangerous the outside of those walls dug deep down into the waters, making contact with the sand. What lurks behind those enormous walls? Tacet discords, abbreviated as 'TD's, creatures that have the ability to mimic shapes and behaviors of others.

As the people who feared to become one of these beasts stay within the walls. A certain male roams behind them, arms raised up with his hands behind his head as he whistled a tune to himself, having to be sure not to get caught, otherwise he'd get thrown into jail. Who would this individual be? None other than Scar. To put more in his name, he can be known as one of the Overseer members for the Fractsidus - an organization whose ideals are currently to accelerate the next Lament. To bring more into that, another desire of theirs is to capture somebody by the name of 'Rover'.

Back to what was currently happening... Scar strolled around, waiting for Rover to come out of Jinzhou, to make another one of his many dramatic entrances. From the corner of Scar's eye, he is able to see a sort of bioluminescence light coming from within the waters, resting by the walls. That's odd... He could have sworn it was never there. Scar glances around, seeing nobody around, he bursts into sinister chuckles. "This is interesting. Let's see what lurks beneath this lake," Scar speaks out, rotating his body towards the edge and dives in with no hesitation.

Swimming further down until he floats in front of the spot that glowed so brightly. It appeared there was an opening, but it was pitch-black, unable to see what stays in there, but Scar went in, anyways - typical Scar. The deeper he went, the darker it was getting for him. At one point, he reached his hand out, wondering if there was anything resting in front of him. Through his gloved hand, he felt an odd, rough texture. With no fear of what it may be, he ripped it out of where it stayed, bringing it as close as possible to his face until he was able to detect what it may be. It was a... coral.

Hold on. Aren't coral supposed to appear more colorful? It looked completely lifeless. But at the same time, coral tend to look bleached when dead, no? Let's not forget, algae could surround it. This doesn't make any sense... If it's not alive, but it's not dead. Then what was it? Could this coral be a tacet discord?! No... not a possible. For what Scar knew, no tacet discord lives within the waters. Next thing Scar saw, shocked him. The suspected 'dead'-coral lit up in a marvelous shade of blue. The coral was bioluminescent! Within the sight of Scar, all of the organisms such as coral, algae, sea stars, fish, and a bunch of others lit up in the same hue of blue.

It was all bioluminescent! Who would have known the Jinzhou kept a secret like this! Yet for some odd reason, Scar could have sworn his breathe was being taken away from the sight... Wait... HIS BREATHE WAS BEING BEING TAKEN AWAY. Scar's eyes shot wide open, attempting to swim up, but due to feeling his own breathe disappearing, it was causing him to lose energy. Oh, well. Scar will always find his way back up! As he began to lose his consciousness, a silhouette of a person swam towards him, as reminiscent as a... jellyfish. Though he simply assumed it was the afterlife coming to retrieve his soul...

What do you know! Scar's consciousness was coming back to him. As his eyes slowly flickered open, greeting by blurriness. Within Scar's vision, it looked like the same silhouette as before. The moment Scar snapped back into reality is when the figure leaned in towards him, pressing their lips against his - attempting to do CPR, but it appeared they weren't doing it correctly, an accidental kiss. Though Scar didn't bother to move a muscle, seeming to find what was happening, hilarious. Once the person moved back, letting out a gentle sigh out of their lips and opening their eyes to glance down at Scar, who they assumed was still passed out,

WAS LITERALLY SMIRKING UP AT THEM, alongside a snigger. Terrified by the fact he was literally greeted in the wrong way in the best way, they burst into screams - sounding as if it was music. Scar immediately sat up, slapping his gloved hand onto the person's skin that oddly glowed. Taking a couple of glances around, taking notice on how he appeared to be resting on the shore, far away from Jinzhou. Slowly moving his covered hand away from their hand, brushing against their lips.

Scar crossed his legs, pressing his elbow on his knee as he rested his cheek onto his knuckles. He took this opportunity to observe the individual - seeing how their skin had a sort of gentle shine to it, with clothing resembling a jellyfish. To put more detail into that, they appeared to swim like a jellyfish when coming in to save Scar. Scar's smirk grew wider, releasing a chuckle from his mouth. "I'm guessing you're the pretty stranger who saved me?" Scar questioned. Only to receive a confused expression from the person - dotted-eyes, with a gentle head tilt, as if they were fragile. Afraid to properly move.

"Hm, best guess: You can't understand me. Can you?" Scar asked. He gained no response, as expected. He had no issues with this whatsoever. Carefully, the stranger rose from the ground, having sand attached to any exposed skin as they turned around, planning to head back into the waters. Scar watched their movements - arms swinging at a perfect pace, as well as the movement of the hips. As if anything this secretive person did was as smooth as butter. Scar was about to catch sight of something familiar, leaning his head forward, taking notice of a small tacet mark resting on their nape. This person was a resonator?!

Unconsciously, Scar arose and chased after this person, grabbing onto their wrist, pulling them back until they slammed their back onto Scar. Forcing the confused person to turn their head around, carrying the look of curiosity that Scar found funny. Scar leaned in, having his infamous smirk. "Maybe it's best to teach you a few things. Don't you think, 'jello-fish'?"

“This is who you were referring to by… ‘jello-fish’?” Scar’s sister, Phrolova, questioned. “Yes! Aren’t they adorable?” Scar asked. Here he currently was — lying down on the ground, on his front with his hands cupping his face and legs gently kicking back and forth. Silly Scar… What was he exactly doing? To put it in simple terms, training AND tutoring the clueless humanoid, who he figured was mainly centred around a jellyfish.

By listening to Scar’s demands such as to swim around in the waters — doing tricks such as jumping out of the waters, twirling in them as they swam around in a perfect pace. All movements made by me were fascinatingly smooth, and Scar didn’t seem to get bored of it. He wanted to flex off what he had been teaching the curious person to his sister.

“Speaking of which, I taught them another thing. Trust me, it’s really impressive.” Scar spoke out. Scar quickly adjusted his position — sitting on his bum, legs crossed as he snapped his fingers as loud as he could — managing to gain the attention of the person reminiscent to a jellyfish. They turned the direction of where they were swimming towards, elegantly making their way towards Scar and as soon as they were at a perfect spot, they leaped out of the waters and jumped onto Scar, who caught them as he fell on his back from the pressure.

“Did you see that?! Tell me that was adorable! They’re able to do that, like a dolphin!” Scar excitedly spoke out, a gleeful laughter mixed in with his words. “…Despite being similar towards a jellyfish.” Phrolova mumbled. She observed on how Scar seemed to be enjoying the person’s actions, where they were gently tracing the outline of Scar’s marks, while letting out a soft coo full of fascination.

Scar’s hands made it onto their hips, causing the person to softly hum out of confusion, which Scar giggled from — as if he was a boy who just got a sweet treat from the store. “Come on, jello-fish. Right here.” said Scar, pointing towards his cheek. Phrolova noticed how clueless the humanoid looked, about to speak up, but was shocked when they actually learned in and brushed their lips against Scar’s check — giving him a kiss.

“Ohoho~! Good, good! I’m so proud of you, jello-fish. Now then, another one here.” Scar praised, now pointing towards the tip of his nose. Once again, they leaned in and pressed a soft kiss onto Scar’s nose. What made this more hilarious for Scar was that this person had no clue what they were doing! “Now… over here.” Scar spoke out, his tone proving how smug he was. Where was he pointing? Towards his lips.

“Scar. Quit that.” Phrolova demanded, though Scar didn’t seem to listen. “Aw, come on! Don’t you want to see what they do—?” before Scar could even finish… they brought their lips against Scar’s lips, shocking Scar, only because he was caught off-guard. Phrolova let out a soft groan, turning around to give the two privacy as the person and Scar’s lips remained pressed onto one another.

“It’s unfortunate they’re unaware of what they’re doing, assuming it’s harmless…” Phrolova mumbled. They separated after a bit, thanks to Scar who wanted to keep the kiss longer. Within a second, he started squealing as if he was a little girl and tackling the individual into a tight embrace. “GOODNESS! You’re so cute. I may as well make you into a jello-fish to eat up!” Scar excitedly exclaimed.

Shockingly, they shot their eyes wide open, moving their head to stare into Scar’s eyes. That’s when Scar realized… “You can understand me for that, but not all of the other stuff I said?!” Scar shouted, not believing it. Scar’s loud voice accidentally terrified me, causing me to rise from what I was and rush back towards the waters, diving in. “Come back!” Scar whined. “Not only you scared them by saying you’ll eat them, but by yelling, too. I’m not surprised…” Phrolova said. “You’re not helping.” Scar argued.

author note: sorry if this isn’t what you necessarily wanted! if it is, i’m glad and i worked on this for a little while so i hope it does do well, truly.

taglist: @eroqista

[gimme-a-man-after-midnight]

my royal roomie pt. 3 *sneak peek*

fandom: Aquaman

pairing: Orm Marius x Reader

part 1 part 2

summary: As time passes, Orm begins to see you as more than his surface dweller host. Much to his surprise, you’ve captured his attention, which in turn makes him notice just how physically affectionate you are with everyone except him.

Warnings: light cursing, touch starved!orm, light angst if you squint, comic lore inaccuracies, slow burn, divorced parents!reader, dead parent mention, mentions of being smaller in comparison to orm, flora inaccuracies??

The dynamic between you and Orm didn’t make a complete 180 after your late night talk - in fact, it was quite awkward for the first few days following. Orm, although now deciding to actually be in the same room as you for longer than five minutes, didn’t talk much when you were in each other’s presence. The Atlantean favored just observing you in your natural habitat - when you cooked, when you read, when you talked with people on the phone. You often extended invitations to him to join in your activities, but a silent shake of his platinum head was what you were regularly met with. You tried not to take offense, understanding that small steps forward was better than leaps backward, but you couldn’t help but feel a little unnerved by his probing gaze. 

Your expressions when meeting Orm’s eyes were always one of the three - confused, apprehensive, or downright shy. Orm liked playing a silent game with himself whenever he would wait in the communal areas of the house for you, guessing which one would take over your face that day. However, what the Atlantean liked most of all was when you would deviate from all three and bless him with a sheepish look that teetered between flushed and guilty. Although there would be no evident redness behind your cheeks, your flitting eyes and soft smile gave him a new type of satisfaction. Orm wasn’t blind - he could tell you were attracted to him. His heightened senses could pick up on your increase of breaths and the quickening of your heartbeat whenever his eyes would be fixed on you and it made pride swell in his chest. Even with how apparent your interest in him was, you never overstepped - you were always respectful of his space, never even entertaining the fine line between roommates and not just roommates. You had remained awfully friendly, though….

…friendly enough for Orm to realize that the way you interacted with him was vastly different to how you would with others. 

---

Orm had assumed humans were quite simple - easy to understand due to their lack of brain capacity and advancement in comparison to Atlanteans. However, watching how different you were in your shop - witnessing you change from the selectively quiet, sarcastic little thing you were at home to a vivacious, charming young woman here - it had confused him greatly. His father had told him many stories of the treacheries of humankind, but the one point he drilled relentlessly into his head was that humans were simple, dull creatures undeserving of their people’s knowledge. 

Other sea clans felt that when the time came to reveal themselves to the surface that it would only be to educate them - his father had other ideas. The infamous King Orvax wished to utilize the wrath of the seas in order to overpower the surface world, his son at his side as they rebuilt the world in their image. His teachings were the foundation of Orm’s belief system for the majority of his life, yet you had managed to topple those mind palaces within a matter of weeks. You, with your soft knits and quick wit, had the Atlantean prince questioning whether his father had simply been misinformed. His father couldn’t have possibly known how complex humans could truly be because he never met you.

(to be continued in the full part 3 coming soon!)

[fangsandfracturedhearts]

Fangs and Fractured Hearts

Chapter 20: I Forgive You

Summary: After embracing eternity as a vampire spawn under Astarion's wing, the Crimson Palace becomes a haunting symbol of the man he once was. As his personality unravels into a dark abyss, you flee. A year of hardship unveils the harsh reality of existence as a vampire spawn.

Just as all hope seems lost, a twist of fate reunites you with Astarion, revealing a glimmer of hope amidst the shadows. As you navigate the complexities of your relationship, you must confront the unsettling truth behind the Rite of Profane Ascension and the devilish secrets it holds.

In a race against time, you embark on a daring quest to save Astarion from his descent into darkness. With each choice you make, the stakes grow higher, testing the limits of your courage and determination.

Will Astarion find redemption, or is he destined to succumb to his own inner turmoil?

Word Count: 6.1k

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x female!Tav Spawn

Warnings: [Will try to continue to add more, but in general expect explicit content for mature audiences]

Possible spoilers. Eventual Explicit Content. Slow Burn. Thoughts of Suicide. Violence. Blood. Injury. Mature Content. Self-Harm. Mentions of in-game content. Completely fabricated camp events. Mentions of Astarion's Trauma.

If you notice a very critical tag missing, please don't hesitate to let me know

Rating: Explicit 18+ - [Meant For Mature Audience]

You drink, drink, drink. 

Deeply. Greedily. Exuberantly. 

The spluttering sounds vaguely tickle your ears. They push you closer to the edge of feral hysteria, where logic and reason cease to exist, and all that’s left is an impulsive drive to kill and consume. If the prey can sputter, it has more lifeblood to give. You bite down harder. Legs thrash, thudding against the ground and echoing off the walls. Hands and fingers claw at your skin and tug at your clothes, but you are too far gone to care or register the increasingly weakening calls of your name. 

You are an animal. 

A creature. 

A monster. 

You will drink until there is not a drop left, then perhaps you will find something else to drink because you are so tired of the maddening pain of being hollow and hungry. The thirst is unquenchable and relentless. If you could get it to stop, even just for a little while, maybe you could think clearly. 

There is so much relief that comes as the creamy, coppery tide spills into your stomach. The aching kinks in your muscles that made your toes curl and your fingers rheumatic unsnarl, the vicelike grip of raw hunger relinquishes its agonizing hold on your stomach, and the gauzy film that has been muddling your thoughts starts to lift.

It feels resplendent. 

As the blood lights up every neural pathway in your brain, you revel in the sensation of being reunited with your long-lost life. It’s all too easy to tune out the battering against your chest, the fingernails that gouge at your skin, and the pleas that fall mute in your ears. 

You want to live, and nothing fills you with vitality like the radiant syrup that’s pulsing within the veins and vessels of living creatures. 

The resistance is failing now; fingers fumble at your clothes with less and less vigour. The blood that once spurted into your mouth like a fountain with every heartbeat is coming slower, only seeping like a babbling brook instead of a raging river. 

It irritates you because you’re still not satisfied. Is there enough blood in the whole of the world to quell your appetite? 

No. 

Nothing will ever be enough. 

“Stop.” 

The directive slices through your body like an axe through flesh, poaching your control and handing it away without a fight. You cannot even swallow the blood in your mouth, and it drools out from between your lips and down your chin. 

“Stand and back away.” 

You stand as if there are strings attached to your limbs, pulling you up and forcing you to take stiff steps backward like a puppet. 

“Kneel.” 

This time the command is not silent but in Astarion’s voice, making your ears quiver. Your knees fold in on themselves and hit the stone hard beside the cage door. The red miasma begins to clear from your mind, and your vision pulses back into focus as your bloodlust fades. In an instant, you’re all too aware of the gore dripping from your chin and the red slickness coating your hands and forearms. 

You’re dragged back into a harsh reality. Your clothes are sodden, sticky, and clinging to your body. Your arms are in shreds, full of valley-like gouges, and your mind clears enough to fully comprehend what you’ve done. Tears sting the back of your eyes like hot knives, but you do not have the authorization to shed them.

Shadowheart lies motionless on the floor, her skin ghostly, and her eyes glassy and corpse-like. Her chest jumps erratically, and her heartbeat is barely audible. 

“Illyria,” Astarion says in a voice like warm honey. “Look at me.” 

Your neck twists without your consent, the binds of compulsion holding fast. When your eyes fall on Astarion, he’s as close to the door as he can possibly get while restrained. In the dimness of the enclosed cell, you cannot work out which version of him you’re looking at. 

“Is it you?” You ask, though it is a terribly stupid question. He will say anything to be set free. 

“It’s me, sweetheart,” he nods, and you feel the connection invite you once again. You yearn to allow it to open and flood you, but you refuse, afraid that this is a trick. Astarion’s mouth downturns slightly at the rejection. “If I let you go, will you be able to control yourself? Shadowheart needs help quickly.” 

“No!” You shout. If you get close to her, you know you will not be able to resist the crimson that still seeps from the wounds in her neck. “No. Don’t.” 

“Then I need you to let me out of here so I can help her.”

It’s a risk, but Shadowheart is fading quickly. If you let him out, and it’s the wrong him, you both die, but if you don’t let him out at all, she dies regardless. There’s only one way you can know for sure. 

You reach out to the kinship, and it emanates through you like a sunbeam spreading warmth through a crystal prism, illuminating every facet of your being. You are sculpted from the same celestial clay, falling into each other with an unspoken harmony that only the two of you know. 

After so long without it, the rush of the coalescence of your two beings becoming one borders on overwhelming. It takes your body and mind a moment to assimilate the new sensations, like an agitated lake that ever-so-slowly returns to its placid state. 

He’s finally back. 

You whisper the password to dispel the Arcane Lock, and the light blue barrier shimmers and fades. 

“Get the keys for the locks and unlock my restraints,” he commands. 

Your body complies, getting up stiffly, moving out into the hallway past Shadowheart's unconscious body, and into the desk where you stashed the keys. You move robotically as you unlock the cell and then the padlocks. When the silver manacles pop open, Astarion winces and rubs his wrists.

“Get out of the cell, and don’t move,” Astarion instructs. 

He’s long gone, moving faster than your eyes can perceive, before you can even take the three steps it takes to vacate the cell. You stand, still as a statue, staring at the rough grey bricks that make up the walls of the kennels. Shadowheart’s increasingly slowing heartbeat and ragged breaths are barely discernible under the whir of her blood running through your veins. 

“I’m so sorry. Gods. I’m so fucking sorry, Shadowheart.” 

Astarion returns faster than you thought possible. He drops to his knees by Shadowheart, pulls her into his lap, and uncorks what you recognize as a Supreme Potion of Healing, pouring it into her mouth a little at a time so she can swallow. 

The colour starts to return to Shadowheart’s skin slowly, and her heart beats stronger with every concurrent pulse. She coughs, sputtering wetly, and groans in Astarion’s arms. When her eyes crack open, she jerks away from him and falls limply to the floor with wide, scared eyes. 

“It’s me.” Astarion holds up his hands innocently and backs away from her sharp glower. He uses his foot to nudge another Potion of Healing her way.

Shadowheart grabs it with frail fingers, trying to uncork it with her teeth, but her muscles are still too weak. She scoffs when she has to hand the bottle to Astarion to open for her. 

Her whole body shakes with the shock of blood loss as she pushes herself up, using the wall at her back as a brace. “Is it him?” 

“Yes,” you confirm. “If it wasn’t, we would both likely be dead already.” 

Astarion looks around the kennels dismally with glances that dart in all directions, as if he thinks Cazador might saunter in at any moment. A tic works in his jaw, and his forehead puckers. You can feel the fear in him as it emanates through the bond. 

“What have you done to her?” Shadowheart mumbles weakly, nodding toward you. 

“I compelled her.” Astarion stares at the cage with ruby-red eyes, a monument to suffering and woe. 

“Well, stop,” Shadowheart snaps in your defence. 

“No. It’s okay, Shadowheart. I’ve asked him to do this.” You say, hauntingly calm. “Can you walk her home, Astarion?” 

“Huh?” His eyes finally focus on you, but he looks a million miles away. “Yes, but what about you?”

He offers Shadowheart a hand. She takes it tentatively, and he pulls her to her feet and steadies her. She bats his hands away defiantly with a scowl, and he rolls his eyes at her obstinacy. 

You’re covered head to toe in dried blood and can’t go walking through the city in such a state, but there is a fix for that. “Compel me to cast invisibility and return to the manor. I want to go home.” 

“I—” Astarion closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Cast invisibility on yourself and go to the manor. Once you are there, tell me, and I will rescind the compulsion.” 

“Astarion, wait.” He turns, and you nod toward the navy shroud. “I want to take that, but I need you to tell me to.” 

Astarion glances at it and looks almost embarrassed. Your orders change without him needing to even say anything. You bend down, pick up the threadbare fabric, and start your invisible march toward home. 

Astarion rescinds the compulsion over you instantly when you enter the manor. It’s dark inside, and the air harbours an unpleasant stagnancy, as if it stopped circulating the moment no one was here. You stare at your hands in horror, dried blood and skin under your fingernails.

You rush to the bedroom.  Water gushes out of the tap into the basin, and you scrub your hands vigorously until they are red, bleeding, and  you’re  sloughing off your own skin, trying to replace her blood with your own. Your hands shake when you look at them.  It’s  not enough; you can still feel the warmth and slickness of her blood like a stain.  

You scream in sheer loathing, a jarring, crestfallen sound that penetrates the cumbersome silence of the manor. If only you could cease existing like this stupid mirror declares with your lack of reflection. 

You peel your soiled clothing off as quickly as you can, throwing it into the fireplace and incinerating the evidence of your sin, but nothing will erase what you’ve done. 

If you cut yourself open and let her blood drain out of you, would you feel better then?

Climbing into the bath, you turn on the water until it’s scalding, curl up into a ball in the corner, your legs hugging tightly to your chest, and sob. The stinging of the water lapping at your maimed back hits like an avalanche and brings more tears to your eyes. You grit your teeth and focus on feeling the pain because you deserve this, don’t you? 

Maybe Astarion was right when he said you deserved everything he did to you. It was you who led him down this path — you who lent him your eyes so he could carve up Cazador and usurp the Rite. The only reason you ever regretted it was because you lost him. You tell yourself that you should feel guilty over the thousands of souls you damned for love, but truthfully, they would not even cross your mind if not for the consequences. 

Who were they to you? 

Nobodies, and they remain faceless nobodies. 

The weight of what you’ve agreed to descends on your shoulders like the burden of a planet now that your mind isn’t addled with hunger and exhaustion. How are you going to tell Astarion?

Oh, it’s nothing, my love. I just put my soul on the line, agreed to kill an archdevil, and now have control of hellfire that could kill me if I actually put it to use. But good news! If we can pull it off, you can keep your power and your sanity. 

Good Gods.  

The only illumination in the room when Astarion enters is the orbs of fire circling your head in the shape of soaring dragons. They swoop and arc in an ever-changing formation. Your eyes snap to him, and you send the orbs soaring back to relight the candles and fire. 

Astarion looks more bone-weary than you ever remember seeing him, with dark circles under his eyes and ruddy, blistered wrists. He strips his dirty shirt off, tossing it to the floor with unusual carelessness. 

“How long this time?” Astarion asks, standing near the fire with his hand braced on the wall. 

“A week, give or take a day or two.”

“Gods.” Astarion rubs his bloodshot, tired eyes and glances at his wrists. “Silver is still effective, hm? Good to know, I suppose,” he muses. He points at the bath. “May I?” 

You gesture toward the water flippantly, and he undresses and wades in. A quiet, awkward silence hangs over the two of you for some time. 

“What happened?” He finally asks, his eyes bleeding with sorrow and shame. He smooths his wet hair back. “I mean, I know what happened, but after I lost.” 

“I led you to the palace, the kennels... I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do.” 

“Don’t be. You did what you had to do. That cage… I put that in there, didn’t I? I saw it when I came back, but... Why did I do it?” 

“I think you can probably guess why he did that,” you sigh, combing your fingers through your hair. “Can we not do this tonight?” 

“Yes. Of course.” Astarion nods. “Can you pass me the soap?” 

You turn to grab the soap bar, but his pained, breathy gasp makes your eyes jerk toward him. Shit. You turned your back to him, and now his eyes are moored to whatever it was he sliced into you. You suppose he was going to see it one way or another, but you meant to save him this pain until it was at least a little further healed.

“Fuck.” He sobs, tears spilling from his eyes, and his hand is poised at his mouth. “By the Gods, Illyria. I don’t know what to say. I— Gods. What have I fucking done? What is wrong with me? I do not want to be that person. I do not want to hurt you.” 

“I know,” you murmur, too tired to even cry at this point. 

“Do you hate me?” He asks, his voice so small and so pained that it’s like a vice around your heart. “I—I’m a monster.” 

If nothing else, the stark contrast between the two sides of him makes it relatively easy to separate and compartmentalize the two. In your perspective, they remain too separate people. You would be lying if you said you were not a little frightened of those hands that held that dagger like a chisel; the hands that scored your flesh with Gods knows what. 

But when you look into his eyes, you remember that this man has spent centuries having his body taken over and used as a pawn, just as it is now. You never blamed him for the atrocities he committed under Cazador’s rule, and you cannot bring yourself to blame him for the actions of another wearing his skin. 

“I don’t hate you, Astarion.” You take slow steps toward him. He looks confused for a moment, his eyes wide as saucers. “I just want to save what’s left of you while we still can. May I?” You nod your head toward his lap.

He nearly lurches forward to grab you, but you’ve been feeling that longing in him the whole time — the desperate need to hold and be held. Astarion catches himself, sits back down, and outstretches his arms. Crawling into his lap, he’s cautious not to touch your wounds, and you lean into him with your head pressed under his chin, safe at last.

“I didn’t think you would want to be close to me after what happened.” Astarion’s voice is as knotted with emotion as you’ve ever heard it. He takes your hand, bringing it up from the water, and his fingers trace the band of the ring. “I didn’t think you would want to be with me at all.”

“Does everyone think me so exceptionally fragile?” You bring your head up to look at him. He still has tears welling in his swollen eyes, falling occasionally down his cheeks. You wipe them away with the back of your index finger. “I never once judged you or was scared of you because of the things Cazador forced you to do. This is much the same for me. It may have been your hands, but it wasn’t you.”

“I don’t deserve your forgiveness,” he murmurs. “I do not deserve you.”

“That’s enough, Astarion. You deserve it all. Happiness, comfort, to live, and love. We both deserve all those things,” you remind him. You take his face in your hands. “I love you because I just fucking love you. The moment you tossed me into the dirt and looked into my eyes, I loved you, and every moment since, even when it was painful to love you, I loved you still. I love you so much that it’s terrifying, because I know there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. I love you, only you, now and forevermore, and you deserve to be loved like that. Alright?”

A small smile breaks through his beautiful lips, and he takes your hand, kissing your palm and interlocking your fingers. “Thank you. Y— You still want to marry me, yes?”

You huff in exasperation. “I just finished telling you that I will love you forever, and that’s your question? Obviously. You promised me eternity, Astarion, and I’ve never known you to be a liar.”

“Well, in that case,” Astarion swallows and takes a big breath. “If you’ll indulge me, I would like to marry you before we descend into the Hells and likely get ourselves killed.”

“You’re agreeing to go to the Hells with me?” Your mouth drops open. “Truly?”

“Mhm.” Astarion nods. “I will go along with your insane little plan on the condition that you marry me before we leave. If we are to die down there, I would at least like to die as husband and wife.”

Do you tell him? He’s agreeing to go to the Hells, but he doesn’t have the whole story any longer. If you’re going to tell him, now is your chance, but you just got him back, and it didn’t go well for you last time. No. You’ll have to tell him eventually, but right now, you just can’t bring yourself to utter the words. You lock all thoughts, all memories, and everything else away behind the guard that will keep Astarion from seeing it through your connection, as long as you’re careful.

“Can it just be you and I?”

Astarion’s brows furrow. “You don’t want all our friends there? Drinks? Dancing? A grand soiree?”

You've never been the kind of woman who fantasized about a big, extravagant wedding and a white ballgown—let alone one at all. In fact, the idea of having all those beating hearts and insincere congratulatory smiles sounds awful.

“If you want that, I understand, and we can, but we could have all of that when we get back from the Hells alive with you safe.”

Astarion glances away, looking blankly at the water. “Are you embarrassed of me?”

“Astarion. No. Don’t be foolish. If anything, I don’t want all those people to see you looking so positively mouthwatering. You might have to compel me not to eat everyone in attendance.”

“I do look rather dashing in a suit, do I not?” He chuckles. “I think I would rather enjoy an intimate affair.”

You comb his wet hair back and out of his eyes. “Me too.”

“Your wounds need to be cleaned.” Astarion murmurs, making you twist slightly so he can get a look at them. Every time he sees them, the emotional link between you is inundated so heavily with regret and despair that it actually feels like it weighs your mind down. “They aren’t healing well.”

“Is that an offer to help, or are you just stating the obvious?” You tease, trying to get him to lighten up.

“How can you be so casual about this?” Astarion snaps, unable to conceal his own outrage. His anger is not so much at the flippant ease with which you have shrugged this off; it’s at himself for doing it in the first place. “How can you so easily just forgive me and move on after I did this to you? You should hate me. You should be terrified of me.

“Why?” You retort coldly. Patience is wearing thin here. You do not have time, nor do you care to lament on your skin. It will heal, and what’s done is done. Where will being angry or sad over it get you? Nowhere, so what’s the point? If you want to grieve it, you have an eternity to do it later, so why is he being so insistent on this? “Would it make you feel better about it if I punished you for it? Is that what you’re looking for, Astarion?”

“Yes.” His voice is full of desperation. He takes your arms, almost shaking you, but it’s just his entire body that’s trembling violently. “Punish me. Hit me. Burn me. Stab me. I don’t fucking care, but do something.”

Straddling him, you take your face in his hands, sweeping your thumb over his cheek, dip your head, and kiss him tenderly. “I forgive you.” 

Moonlight courses through the windows of their bedroom, casting a spectral-like glow across the floors and furniture. Though he is exhausted physically and mentally, he cannot seem to fall into his trance. He fears that if he lets his mind rest, it will not be him who she wakes up to.

Illyria trances peacefully beside him, though in an awkward position on her side so as not to touch the half-healed portrait of his cruelty that will be etched into her skin for eternity. Even now, those wounds still seep, dotting her shirt with little pinpoints of blood.

How could he do that to her? How could any version of him want to do that to her?

Astarion doesn’t want to wake her. She is more exhausted than even him, so he moves stealthily out of bed to go pace the halls of the manor, where he can hopefully work out some of this restlessness.

Coming back to himself in that cage had been a chilling experience, with the sting of silver wrapped around his wrists and sapping his strength. He’d recognized the smell of the room right away, even under the smell of Shadowheart and Illyria’s blood. For a moment, he was sure Cazador was going to enter and make him pay for usurping the Rite. He almost didn’t pull himself together quickly enough to save the Cleric.

The horror that he would take Cazador’s torments and mimic them makes his stomach churn, and he stymies the dry heaving. Is what’s left of his soul really all that stands between him and that vile version of him? Could he be worse than Cazador? Would he be?

He hates that the answer to that is yes.

Astarion leans his forearm on the wall, looking out the window absently, while his mind revolves in a spiral of unsettling thoughts. He’s agreed to go to the Hells with her. Truthfully, he feels he has little choice. It’s either this or become what he spent centuries loathing and killing or enslaving the one person he’s ever truly cared for.

If she were not at risk, he might just let himself go and accept the consequences of his actions. Two centuries of fighting to survive, only to gain his freedom and have to fight to survive again.

He is tired of fighting for his life.

If it comes down to it, will he renounce the powers the Rite has gifted him? Could he say goodbye to the sun and hello again to the pain of hunger and darkness?

If it means never hurting her like that again, he has no choice.

“Astarion?” Her voice makes him jump and whirl. She’s gotten good at sneaking up on him, and he finds himself proud of his little bride. Half of her face is hidden by shadows, and the other half is illuminated by moonlight. She yawns adorably. “Are you okay?”

“But of course, my love.” He declares and offers her a quick, easy smile that he hopes will appease her worries.

She cants her head at him with a lopsided grin. “Come on, Astarion. What’s troubling you?”

“Am I truly that easy to read, sweetheart?” She would see through any disguise he tried to decorate himself with.

She pads over to him, her nightdress swaying about her upper thighs, and taps on his temple. “You can’t exactly hide it from me, Astarion.”

“Ah,” he says, smiling slightly. “I suppose not.”

Illyria leans into him with her hand splayed across his bare chest, peeking up at him through thick lashes. “What’s bothering you?”

He wraps his arm around her shoulders, being careful with her back, and kisses the top of her head. “I’m just restless. Sitting in a cage for a week will do that to a man.”

“Restless, are you?” She raises an eyebrow, the beautiful cracked crimson of her eyes shimmering like polished gems. Her hand starts to wander around his body. Gentle, tentative touches to see how he will react. “I could think of a few things that might help relieve that restlessness.”

His body responds to her proximity, the way she leans her soothing weight into him, and those tender touches. The blood rushes to his cock.

Astarion’s shock is evident in the way his brows try to climb his forehead. “Surely, you’re not suggesting?”

“Sex, Astarion.” She laughs, shaking her head. “I’m suggesting sex, but if you’re not feeling up for it, you only have to say the word. You know that, right?”

“I know.” He leans down, hooking her chin with his index finger and guiding her eyes up. He needs to make sure she actually wants this, because he cannot fathom how she could after what he did to her. “It’s not me I’m worried about.”

She grins mischievously, pushing him, forcing him to take steps backward until the back of his legs hit the settee, and then she shoves him hard. He could easily have stayed on his feet, but he lets her push him around. Illyria climbs atop him, straddling him.

He grasps her hips as her weight settles on him. Astarion’s hips hitch up involuntary, pressing his length into her with a grunt. She grinds against him, eliciting a gravelly moan from him.

Gods. She really still does love him, doesn't she? Even after everything he’s done to her, including all the things he did that he cannot even remember, she still wants him.

Illyria rolls her hips slowly over his cock, spreading her slick desire along his length and seeking out her own pleasure. It doesn’t bother him. In fact, he quite enjoys watching her like this; her eyes are heavily lidded and sensual, moaning when her clit drags across his cock.

She runs her fingers through his hair and down the ridge of his ear, which never fails to drive him fucking mad. A breathy hiss is expelled from his lungs, and he grabs her hips and forces them to sink further with a growl.

“You’re truly okay?” He asks breathily, the yearning starting to overtake his self-control. “With me? With us?”

“I’m really okay,” she smiles, leaning down to kiss him with such sweet devouring that he’s not sure what to do with his hands or where to touch because he wants all of her.

He can’t resist anymore, and his fingers curl into her hair, and he kisses her back with the same fervour. His heart begins to pound, and the sensation of the slick of her folds still stroking him sends another thrill down his spine. He helps her carefully take off the nightdress and throws it aside before their lips crash together again.

Illyria reaches down, stroking his soaked length, lifting her hips, and slipping the swollen, pink head of his cock in and out shallowly. She keeps him at the cusp of her entrance, teasing him until he’s whimpering, trying to grab her hips and shove them down.

“Ah-ah,” she tuts. “Eager, aren’t you?”

He can feel her wetness dripping down his shaft, further driving him mad. “Love,” he hisses. “Sit on my cock, or I swear-"

Astarion feels himself sink to the hilt in one rapid move, the sudden tightness around him bringing forth a surge of pleasure, making his head fall back and blanking his brain. “Gods. You’re so fucking perfect.”

His hips begin to roll, fucking her gently in a rocking motion. She squeezes him as he increases the pace of his thrusts, hands on her hips, making sure the angle is perfect to drag himself against her ridges and hit her spot.

She meets his thrusts, grinding to match his pace with her hand pressed against his chest over his heart. His eyes rake over every inch of her, the scars on her neck that mark her as his, the curve of her waist, and the lines of muscles that ripple beneath her skin as they flex with every move. She is the most breathtaking thing to ever walk this earth, and she’s all his, and he’s all hers. Now and forevermore.

“Fuck, Astarion,” she whimpers, and she looks at him open-mouthed and adoring.

Astarion’s hand drifts down her chest, running down her belly, and moves between her legs, finding her clit. He rubs slow circles around the border of the sensitive flesh, which instantly rewards him with a whimper, and her cunt tightens around him to the point it’s borderline painful.

“Do you love me?” He murmurs uncertainly and is desperate for reassurance. She is the only thing that burns in the darkness he gets lost in. She completes parts of him that are raw and sharp, her softness and fluidity rooted inside him, and she soothes that latent beast.

Her eyes open abruptly, likely feeling his unease in their bond. He doesn’t try to hide it anymore. She takes his face in her hands. “I’ve loved you since I met you, and nothing will ever change that. I will love you for eternity and well beyond,” she says in breathy pants.

His cock throbs inside her the moment she says those words, his breath catching in his throat. Astarion will never tire of hearing that beautiful hymn in his ears. A whimper leaves his lips.

She smiles — one of those smiles she only saves for him — unashamed of her fangs and kisses his cheek. Her hips increase their pace, and his thoughts scatter completely. He moans loudly, his hips jittering here and there as the tension starts to coil in his belly.

The rhythm at which she lifts and slides back down around him grows increasingly intense, and with it comes his own desire to chase his climax and empty himself into her. At this rate, he will not make it.

“I’d like to try something. I’ll need to take us back upstairs to bed.”

She slows, cocking her head at him. “I’m intrigued. Lead on.”

Astarion moves slowly, grabbing under her thighs and letting her wrap her arms around his neck. He effortlessly carries her back to their room.

He lays down on the bed, patting his chest. “Lay down on me and allow me to please you, yes? I will be cautious of your back.”

Illyria leans forward with no hesitation, kissing his chest and brushing her soft lips against him. He manages to find a way to hold her in a one-armed embrace that avoids what he’s done to her.

“If it gets too much, tell me,” he purrs.

With his feet firmly planted flat on the bed, Astarion begins to pulse his hips up into her, intensifying his pace incrementally until he’s snapping his hips hard and fast. His pulse races from the effort. His fingers work in harmony, sweeping and gliding in the way that makes her see stars.

“ Shit. Astarion,” she gasps, her body limp in his arms, engulfed totally in his ministrations. “Y-You. H-Hells. S-so good.”

Gods. He can feel her pleasure through the bond, and it only amplifies his. “I—I love you,” he whispers to her.

Astarion continues his upward pistoning until his own climax threatens to overpower him, and he has to bite his lower lip to keep his composure. It doesn’t work. He stills for a moment, taking deep breaths and trying to focus on anything else. His cock is throbbing, begging for him to resume. When he opens his eyes, they meet Illyria’s, her breathing shattered, her knowing smile understanding why he needed a break.

She bites her wrist and brings it to his lips. “We wouldn’t want it to go to waste, would we?”

He laps at her with a low growl and then begins sucking, resuming his thrusting, hammering into her mercilessly. Astarion feels her orgasm near. Her fingers curl into his chest, her body tenses and trembling in his arms, her breathing uneven.

Hells below. Her blood in his mouth is an ambrosial divinity he will cherish until the end of time. The sensation of his cock stretching her, the ridges of his head dragging over her walls, and her sex increasingly tightening around him is going to throw him over the edge before her.

With a quick twerk of his hips, he changes the angle just slightly so that he’s more in line with the sensitive bundle of nerves inside her. The way she cries out with each strike lets him know he’s aligned himself just right.

A couple more powerful pumps, and Illyria comes, crying out loudly. Her body shudders, her back arching, and she slows his pace to drag out the remaining aftershocks of ecstasy. He revels in the feeling of her walls squeezing and clenching him, almost too much.

He relinquishes her wrist and rains small kisses on the top of her head and forehead. He rubs her arm until she quiets. She looks up at him, confused. “You didn’t come. Why?”

His cock is still buried in her, throbbing and switching insistently. He smiles down at her softly. “I’m right behind you, little love. I wanted to make sure you were done. Kiss me, will you?”

She shifts, moulding her lips to his. His hand cups her cheek, and he once again begins pounding into her dripping cunt, driving himself into her fast and deep. It’s not long before his own climax consumes him, and he comes with a series of low growls and grunts. His eyes shut, his hips stuttering out of tempo as he spills inside her in an intense wave of pleasure.

When his brain starts to function again, he finds her stroking his sweat-damp hair back with tired but adoring eyes. He glances at her back to make sure he didn’t harm her further, but it looks, well, terrible, but no worse than before.

“I’m glad you’re back,” she says softly with a yawn. “I missed you quite terribly.” She taps his temple. “Missed this. I feel... incomplete somehow without you now.”

“Did you miss me or the sex?” He teases lightheartedly.

She shrugs and taunts him back. “Both, I suppose. The sex is fantastic, after all.”

“So you enjoyed that?” Astarion asks.

There are wisps of doubt niggling his mind. Was I too rough with her after what I did? Would it remind her of being held down? What if I frightened her? 

“I did, very much. You weren’t too rough, and you do not scare me.” She smirks at his wide-eyed stare. “And you? Was it okay? You are okay?”

Shit. He sometimes forgets to shield his thoughts.

“Okay?” He scoffs at her capriciously. “Yes, darling. I had to take a break in the middle simply because it was feeling far too okay.”

She thumps him on the chest, and he covers her hand with this. “I missed you, too. I do not know where I go, but wherever I am, I am always trying to get back to you.”

Illyria brushes his cheek with the backs of her fingers. “Are you still restless? You need to sleep, Astarion. I can feel how tired you are. Do not be afraid. I’ve got you.”

He smirks. “If I were, do you think you could be convinced to go another round?”

“I could be persuaded.”

Big thank you for everyone who takes the time to read/reblog/comment, and all the other magnificent things. As with most fic writers, I am a WHORE for comments. We appreciate even just an emoji. Please feed your fic writers the sustenance of comments 🥰

AO3 [Crossposted]

Master List of Chapters: Fangs and Fractured Hearts

If you're interested I write another fic with Spawn Astarion x Tav called - Shadows of the Past

Small Notes:

Do you think she should have told him right away?

What will his reaction be when she does eventually tell me?

Also, who is ready for a cute intimate ceremony

[eccentricallygothic]

|| Back To Him ||

Description: He was flawed, but so was she. 

Pairing: Dark!Enhanced Witch Hunter!Steve Rogers | Dark Witch!Female Reader.

Disclaimer: I (unfortunately) do not own Steve Rogers. This story contains dark and mature content so browse at your own discretion, please. Minors do not interact.

Warning(s): Dub-con just to be safe, stockholm syndrome, possessive!Steve (if you squint idk it's 3am), mentions of blood and death (not reader), degradation, angst, broken!reader, no mentions of body type or ethnicity but Steve is bigger, age gap (Steve is older), dumbification, slapping, panty sniffing, p in v, unprotected sex, hair pulling, back scratching, squirting.

Note: More unedited than my life. Basically monster reader getting fucked by captor Steve. I needed to get this out in one go or I would never have finished it. So here's to doing this instead of studying for my upcoming exam! English isn't my first language. Feedback is much appreciated 🩷

MASTERLIST

Steve felt a slight burn in his lungs as he willed his legs to push harder, feet thundering against the withered leaves littering his path to his destination; her. He hated how slow everything turned each time this happened. His body screamed for him to stop, heart fighting against it's cage, cold droplets of sweat trickling down his forehead. But he didn't stop. He refused to stop. Instead, the witch hunger blinked his eyes, ignoring his physical turmoil that was the consequence of his unprepared marathon, focusing on his path, the only chant in his mind being the place a fellow witch hunter had informed him of being the victim to her unbiased wrath. 

Hold on, Doll. Just hold on. Despite being enhanced by the potions of the very creatures he hunted and torched, his body struggled to battle against his will to make him stop. But Steve didn't. 

He couldn't. 

. . .

"Please, please, please, Miss! I just had a child!" The man in front of her begged, holding his hands in a prayer-like way as he shook on his knees in terror, bowing his head as tears rained down his face. "Please, please…"

She smiled, her silver irises contrasting against her otherwise coal hued eyes. The man clenched his jaw to find some control for his shaking when her floating body lowered itself to come closer to him. Not so much that her feet touched the ground, no. Just enough to come in close proximity with his kneeling form. 

A chill ran down his spine when she bent forward and took a long and rough sniff. "Hmmm~" her voice was dark, deep and gravelly. "You need not worry. I will honour you by eating her heart out and quenching my thirst with her sweet blood~" Y/n cackled as the man broke out into sobs, shaking his head profusely as he incoherently begged out pleads but to no avail. 

The chaos of flame, smoke, blood and bone around them was a personal fun fair to the overpowered witch ironically victim to her own strengths as she rose back up in the air, twirling in it as people shrieked and cried, running around them. 

"Hm~" Y/n hummed after a while of enjoying the sounds, her blissful expression morphing into one of boredom as she curled her lips outwards. "Boooooring~" a quick dismissive motion of her hands was followed by everyone around her flying around her into thin slices of blood and flesh with so much force that they sprayed all over her, accompanying their kind on her skin. 

The young witch walked on the air, hands wrapped behind her back as she hummed like a little girl playing with her friends, searching for survivors as she grinned in delight, her canine/like teeth gleaming like pearls in the sun.

"There you are!" Y/n clapped her hands in delight when she found a group of people hiding in a ditch. "I could smell your fear from miiiiiiles away~!" She chirped like it was nothing but a harmless game of hide and seek among friends. "Now," tilting her head to the side, she smiled as one of her hands raised in the air. "The fun part-" her words came to an abrupt stop as she felt something grip one of her feet, pulling her downwards. 

"Hm?" The witch snapped her head in the direction of the mysterious force, eyebrows furrowing in confusion when she saw a blonde man almost twice her size calmly pulling her towards him on the ground, hand on her calf now. I know him. "But from where?" She wondered aloud, both the inherited and self acquired powers bubbling inside her like molten lava. 

"Come on now, doll." His voice was as deep as hers, no trace of the fear she loved so much present in his bright blue eyes. So human. "Come back to me" Y/n suddenly forgot her basic instinct to slash first ponder later. "That's it, that's a good doll." Steve's coaxing was ironic to say the least. For she looked nothing like the name he called her. 

Must not hurt him. 

The witch didn't know why, but the same thing played over and over in her foggy head like a mantra. Must not do anything to him. It wasn't like it would be fun anyways. 

Because he was not begging. He was not scared. Not even close. 

Steve clicked his tongue once he had finally eased her on the ground in front of him slowly and carefully. "Look at yourself, bunny. You are not allowed to go out to play alone, remember?" He knew she didn't. Not yet. Not in this state. But this was the way. The trick. It was a sequence he had perfected over the years since he first caught her during one of her rampages.

Y/n had looked so beautiful in her rotten glory. So radiant under the silver moon of that night, her hair swaying along the cool winter breeze, skin decorated by the raining snow as she slow danced by herself in the air amidst the havoc that she had caused by flooding the village with blood that night. Oh, how beautifully the red on her skin had contrasted the snowflakes clinging to her. The young witch was basking in the chaos and smiling to herself as she chewed on a piece of flesh, humming that sweet melody he had loved from that night on. One that came with a price everytime. One that he had to suppress in order to protect the universe around them. Each time he would have to choke his own hummingbird dead to silence to rescue the universe from the brute wrath it accompanied. 

But it rose from the ashes like a phoenix. Every single time. 

"Pretty eyes" was Y/n's only resolve after she tried to find strength within herself to do something but felt herself paralyzed under his soft gaze that she knew was everything but. A giggle escaped her as her index finger reached out for his eyebrow, another one accompanying the first one when he lightly smiled in response to the girl tracing his features out with the claws she had for hands. "Nice man?" She wondered aloud, voice suddenly childish. Vulnerable. 

Exactly how he had moulded her for himself all those years dating back to the night he had caught her along his hunting party. 

"Now I have to kill all these people because of you, doll." Small cries arose from the group that had been watching the scene unfolding in front of them in horror.

No one could ever find out that the great Steve Rogers could, indeed, not completely control the occasional power outbursts of the witch he had for a house pet. Where her lack of experience and training with the powers she had been blessed with by birth as well as the ones she had developed by doing small spells and tricks would overcome her conscious, blinding her humanity as the smell of fear, melodies of pained screams and thundering of strained hearts replace every other thought. 

And that was why she needed her owner, the witch hunter, both her captor and savior, Steve, to bring her back to him every time it happened. To remind her of all that mattered. All that was worth killing the dark sorceress every time she mustered enough energy to attempt a take over. 

It had been easier said than done. But he had centuries to perfect her for himself. What was lifetimes to many around them were mere moments to the two. The world was theirs if they wanted it. Y/n as the brainless executionist while Steve held her leash. But they only took what they wanted, leaving the world to its own devices for the sake of amusement as the hunter made it a point to keep their true identities unknown except to those in his order. 

"I can do that for you~" Y/n giggled as she waved her hand in the air and silenced the people trapped in the ditch. She could not exactly recognize him. But she knew not to hurt him. Her power drunk mind did not even go there. Instead she poked at him in curiousity, narrowing her eyes at him before licking her lips as she tried to make sense of her thoughts. Something impossible for her in this state. 

Years of conditioning can do that even to the most powerful of witches at their most supreme. Especially young and impressionable ones. 

"Dumb bunny" Steve clicked his tongue again as he suddenly pushed at the girl's chest, earning a gasp even in her horrifyingly elevated state. She fell on her ass against the crunchy leaves with a thud. Must not use powers against him. She wanted to scream and ask why. But instead, Y/n maintained her position on the ground, letting him kick her legs apart as he slowly lowered himself on his knees between them. 

"You fuck me?" The girl barely form coherent sentences against him, monstrous eyes blinking up at him like those of an innocent doe, dumbly tilting her head to the side as her upper body rested against her elbows. 

"Dumb bunnies like yourself need to be fucked back into the pathetic little places, remember?" Steve was calm as he spoke to her in a mentor-like voice, undoing his pants before curling the bottom side of her panties that she wore under her blood stained sundress between his fingers before ripping them off. 

"I am dumb bunny?" Y/n's gravel-like voice was in stark contrast to her tone. 

"One that gets wet every time she slaughters a village, apparently" Steve sniffed the torn fabrics in his hand before he put them aside, gripping the witch's thighs before pulling her closer. She blushed under the blood covering her face, biting her lip as she stared at him through 'shy' eyes. "You're lucky you have me, you know?" Aligning himself against her trained entrance, the man controlled the waver that threatened to take over her voice. 

The trick was to appear stronger than her. Unaffected and better. As if she was nothing if not for his mercy. 

Exactly like he had taught her. 

To the point where his 'teachings' eventually started to bleed into her hazed mind during these occurrences. 

The young witch hadn't always been this compliant. 

"Because no one else would ever love an abomination like you" were the words that acommaonied his first thrust into her tight but welcoming walls of flesh. "Tsk, you're so pathetic. Going around hurting people like a mad hound." His words were harsh and condescending as he worked his hips, pushing her dress up to reveal her breasts that had bruises of his passion littering them. "You disgust me as you would anyone" Steve's words were brutal. They always had been. 

But they were exactly what Y/n needed. 

What had sheltered her away from a pyre for this long. 

The thick intrusion in the witch's pussy was too much for her to form any words. Not even incoherent ones. Her elbows had given out and she was writhing against the ground now, moaning in pleasure as her claws gripped fistfuls of the dead leaves underneath her, back arched. Steve felt an icy shudder run down the back of his thighs. She was gorgeous in her nudity, glowing under the sun despite being covered in particles of flesh and blood.

"Yet I am so kind. Showing you the benevolence you do not deserve by still giving you shelter, asylum and food" and poison your senses with the craftings of my personal witch. "And what do you do, huh- look at me!" The hunter's voice raised a few octaves as he gripped her jaw to position her face to look at his, slapping her cheek to get her to open her eyes that she had shut in pleasure. "You try to run away from me like an ungrateful bitch?!" Steve pinched her nipples roughly before swatting one of her breasts with the back of his hand, pairing it with a proper slap when his hand boomeranged back. 

"More, more, more~" she hissed out in an animalistic way, the silver in her eyes shining brighter as the black around them seemed to get even darker. "More, more, more- so good~!" 

The man chuckled, shaking his head at the slut he had made out of her. If the girl whom he had trapped all those years ago were to see this right now, she would not believe it. It was how stubborn and egoistic she had been that made the sight before him even better, the knowledge that he had managed to make a puppet out of what had been predicted as the end of the world made him go faster, the skin atop his spine covered in droplets of cold sweat. 

"Say please" Steve growled, taking his cock almost all the way out before slamming it back in, toying with one of her tits as the other held her head in place by her hair. She seemed to be drunk on the pleasure, dark and silver eyes dazed as her red mouth let out lazy and broken words that drowned in her own moans. "Tell me how much you want it and I might consider" a small whine left her when he slowed his hips down for emphasis, enjoying the warmth of her pussy as he waited for her to comply. 

"Give me" he wasn't surprised. The man knew he had not broken her down completely yet. 

"Not when you demand like that, doll." A protestant sniff left her nose as she narrowed her eyes down at him.

"Give. Now!" The hunter slowed his hips down even even more. 

"Not with that attitude, I won't." Steve went to pull away. "Tsk, some things are just shameless. Demanding and bratty like they have any rights" he could barely finish his sentence before she jumped up on him, straddling his thighs as a loud moan escaped her due to his cock that was barely in at this point suddenly pushing all the way back inside her as the tip collided with her sweet spot. 

Other than the rough and quiet exhales of breath that were forcing their way past his lips, Steve was mostly unbothered as he twirled and pinched one of Y/n's nipples, kneading one of her ass cheeks by his other hand while she braced herself by his strong shoulders, chasing her orgasm as loud noises of skin slapping against skin filled the air. 

"You're truly pathetic, you know?" His blue eyes bore into her monstrous ones as he maintained his icy demeanor. "Fucking yourself shamelessly upon a man who could care less about even touching a shadow birthed heretic like you" Y/n did not reply. She wouldn't have been able to even if she wanted to. Instead, she just moaned through her open mouth as she fucked him like an animal, tits bouncing up and down as she felt a tangle of warm knots forming in her abdomen.

"That's right, keep at it" Steve grunted now, feeling himself getting close due to how inhumanly fast the witch was sliding back and forth on his cock, her wetness allowing pleasant access to his ballsack inside her wet cavern. "Such a cock starved imp. Doesn't even care what her dead coven will think if they saw her riding the cock of the man that killed them" nothing but desperate, pained and frustrated grunts left her. 

But she just couldn't cum. 

It wouldn't come. 

"Have had enough of your high cloud yet?" Steve raised an eyebrow, knowing she couldn't cum unless he let her. 

Because if she did, his personal witch would be the next one on a pyre. One whom he had given secret asylum in exchange for personal hexes and crafts.

Y/n's eyebrows furrowed as she seemed to contemplate for a few moments, crying out when she failed to bring herself to an orgasm. "Please…" Was the only thing she could let out. "Please…" The stiffness of her demeanor dissipated a little, so did the unnatural colours in her eyes. "Sir…" Steve couldn't help but smirk. His favourite method of grounding her always worked. 

"Good doll~" she was back on ground before the next breath, her captor on top of her as he trapped her smaller hands above her head, the other hand reaching for her vagina as the hunter cupped the vertical curve between the witch's legs, rubbing circles on her clit by his thumb. "See? Being a good bunny for your Master isn't so bad."

Y/n cried out loud enough for the trees to tremble with the vibrations of her banshee-like shriek, body violently spasming as it tried to break free against his hold on her arms, back arching as she squirted her orgasm out. 

"Thank you, sir! Thank you! Oh, thank you!" The witch cried out, voice not as deep anymore as it came back to her usual one, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure while her teeth nibbled at her lips. Her eyes were almost back to normal and so were her 'claws'. 

"There she is" Steve easily overpowered her now that the worst was over, whatever was still possible being restricted by his firm hold on her wrists which denied her hands any moment. The hunter knew she wouldn't and couldn't hurt him. But a last accidental surge of power might just level the village which would bring people asking questions. "There is my good bunny~" he started to empty his load into her, thrusts slowing down but not halting as she squirmed from the overstimulation, pouting up at him. 

"W- Was I a bad girl again, sir?" Y/n's eyes were finally back to the ones Steve adored. Even if in his own tainted way. She wasn't exactly an angel either. So they made it work. Or rarher, he did. "Hmmm-!" She tried to move her hips away in discomfort as she felt him fuck his seed deeper and deeper up her walls, well aware no consequence would follow.

Unless he wanted it to. 

Letting go of her hands as the hunter knew the witch would keep them in place herself now, he pushed strands of hair clinging to her sweaty face away from it, stroking them as he lazily moved inside her now. Her eyes were sad. 

Oh, he had broken her so good. 

All for him. 

"What d- did I d- do?" He wanted to scoff. The wretch knew exactly what she'd done. She wasn't fooling anyone with her innocent voice and doe eyes after deliberately not taking the potion that delayed these episodes. 

"Nothing a few days in the dungeon won't fix" Steve secured his promise with a chaste kiss against her lips, cupping one of her cheeks before stroking her cheekbone with his thumb. "Nothing I can't fix." 

[writingduhh]

Ted headcanon, trying to convince him to get a pet and he settles on getting a lizard or a cat

SO CUTE I LOVE IT RAHHHH

Ted Nivison || Pet Dad

You’d been on a mission for weeks. You’ were determined to convince Ted that his life wasn’t complete without a pet… And frankly, neither was yours. It started with casual mentions and evolved into a full-blown campaign. You would regularly reposting or mentioning cute animal videos, hoping that Ted might subconsciously come around to the idea. But he remained stubbornly skeptical.

One evening, you decided it was time to up your game. After a long day, you both flopped onto the couch, and Ted was immediately absorbed in a game on his phone. You, on the other hand, were scrolling through videos on yours, searching for the perfect clip to make your case. You found it. A kitten, its tiny paws batting at its own tail with. You couldn’t help but smile.

Nuzzling closer to Ted, you rested your head on his shoulder and showed him the video. “Hey, Ted,” you said, “Don’t you think your life could use a some of this?”

Ted chuckled, casting a playful side-eye at you. “Are you trying to tell me I need a pet to keep me entertained? I mean, I think you keep me pretty entertained.” He teases.

You rolled your eyes playfully, setting your phone aside and turning to face him. “Think about it. A pet would make our home so much fun! You’d have someone to keep you company when I’m not around. Plus, pets are scientifically proven to reduce stress, and I know you could use some extra relaxation.”

Ted smirked, leaning back with his arms behind his head. “Oh, so now you’re pitching this as a health benefit? You’re really pulling out all the stops, aren’t you?”

You grinned, undeterred. “Yep! I’ve even got names picked out. Imagine it: a little lizard we could call ‘Fang,’ or a cat named ‘Whiskers.’ They’d totally complete the vibe here.”

Ted laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. “Whiskers Nivison? That’s… oddly fitting.” He chuckled. “But you do realize pets require a lot of care, right? It’s not just about cute videos and fun names.”

You leaned closer, your hand gently resting on his chest.

“I know, but that’s what makes it special. We’d be doing this together. Feeding them, playing with them, making them feel loved. And I know you’d be amazing at it, Ted. You have such a big heart, and I can already picture you getting all soft over a little pet.”

Ted raised an eyebrow, his expression softening at your words. “You really think I’d be a good pet parent?”

You nodded, your voice earnest.

“I know you would be. Just like how you take care of me, you’d take care of them. And it’d be another adventure for us, something to share and enjoy together.”

Ted sighed, starting to crumble under your sweet words and the genuine excitement in your eyes.

“Alright, alright. But we’re starting small. No giant dogs or exotic creatures. Maybe a cat… or a lizard. Something manageable.”

You practically bounced in your seat, wrapping your arms around his neck in excitement.

“Really? You mean it? Oh my gosh, Ted, this is going to be so much fun! I can’t wait to start looking!”

Ted laughed, pulling you closer and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’ve never seen you this excited about anything. I guess we’re really doing this, huh?”

You nodded eagerly, already mentally planning the perfect setup for your future pet.

“We’ll find the cutest little pet, and they’ll be so spoiled. This is going to be amazing.”

As you settled back into his embrace, your heart swelled with happiness. You could already imagine the little moments. Coming home to a wagging tail or a curious lizard, curling up on the couch with Ted and your new pet between you, and all the joy that would come from having something to care for together.

Ted couldn’t help but smile as he watched you, realizing that he wasn’t just agreeing to a pet, he was agreeing to yet another shared chapter in your lives. And as he held you close, he knew that whatever pet you brought home, it would be just one more reason to be thankful for the life you were building together.

The next day, you and Ted set out to find the perfect pet. You visited a local shelter and spent hours there, playing with the kittens and observing the lizards. Ted was torn between a playful tabby cat that kept batting at his fingers and a chill bearded dragon that stared at him as if they had already formed a silent bond.

After much deliberation and several rounds of rock-paper-scissors you both decided on a lizard. Ted promptly named him “Sir Scales.”

The first day with Sir Scales was a whirlwind of excitement. Ted was surprisingly hands-on, meticulously setting up Sir Scales’ tank and ensuring everything was perfect. You caught him reading up on lizard care late into the night, and it was the cutest thing ever.

The first time Sir Scales ate in front of you, you and Ted cheered like proud parents. Ted even started keeping a little log of Sir Scales’ feeding times and behavior, just to make sure he was adjusting well.

You and Ted created a little routine around Sir Scales. Every morning, Ted greeted him with a cheerful

“Good morning, Sir Scales!” before giving him fresh water. You’d started calling it “scaly bonding time.”

When you were cuddled up on the couch, you joked about how Sir Scales was the best third wheel, low maintenance but always silently judging. Ted laughed, kissing your forehead and saying,

“We really did pick the perfect pet, didn’t we?”

Sometimes, you’d find Ted just sitting by the tank, watching Sir Scales bask under his heat lamp. When you asked him what he was doing, he’d just shrug and say,

“He’s surprisingly relaxing to watch.” You loved these little moments when Ted’s childlike side came out.

[birinboom]

Post-Apocalyptic Shopkeep Bakugou

This came from me being tired and skimming a prompt for another piece - coffee shop/bookstore au or dystopia au with Bakugou - and my eepy brain turning it into ‘dystopian bookstore Bakugou’. I ended up imagining less of a bookstore per se, and more of a shop from a dystopian/post-apocalyptic game where you’d buy weapon upgrades, treasure maps, etc from an older and incredibly tired Bakugou.

WARNING! This is quite a bit darker than what I usually write, it contains mentions of blood and death (the reader recalling seeing someone being shot). 

Shopkeep Bakugou, linguist reader Post-apocalyptic au, mentions of blood, mentions of death, mild swearing, fluffy ending 🌸 1,205 words

Making the trek across the dried-up seabed was always a challenge, even as civilization slowly expanded, creeping closer and closer to the old shipwreck. You adjusted the piece of fabric you’d tied over your nose and mouth; the dust kicked up with every step was hazardous if inhaled. It would cut your lungs to shreds - or so you’d heard. You didn’t want to take any chances.

Finally you spotted the wreck, tucked into a dip in the ocean floor. As always, you took a short detour to marvel at the bones jutting from the ground close to the wreckage. You always liked to imagine that this giant creature was the one to take down the ship, tearing it to pieces before letting it sink to the bottom of the ocean. Maybe it died from its wounds? Maybe it had cut itself on the metal of the hull and bled to death? Or - much more likely - the creature was a victim of the ocean drying up, completely unrelated to the wreckage. You shrugged, reaching out to touch the sun-bleached bones. It didn’t matter what the truth was. You’d never find out anyway, and the idea of a battle between ship and sea monster was fun. 

Moving on, you started the climb onto the shipwreck, careful to not cut yourself on the rusty metal. Your gaze crept up to the bow of the ship where the name had once been painted. It had bleached enough over the centuries that it was almost invisible, all you could read was ‘MS Ba--’ Maybe that was why he’d picked this place. Far enough from civilization that only serious buyers would make the trek. You had started to think of the wreckage as the ‘MS Bakugou.’ Another thing to amuse yourself with. And amusement was exactly why you’d come.

The air cooled around you as you moved deeper into the wreck. Finally, you reached your destination, a door with the words ‘stay the fuck away!’ painted on it. Ignoring the warning, you began spinning the handle, your labored breath almost drowning out the muted sounds of the latches clicking into place on the opposite side of the door. Then, you heaved the door open, instantly raising your hands as the door clanged against the wall. 

A battle-hardened crimson gaze bore into you over the barrel of a shotgun. You stood still, knowing well that moving before he’d recognized you might cause him to pull the trigger. You’d seen it happen when some idiot decided to attempt to raid the wreck while you’d been present. His rattling breath still haunted your dreams. 

“It’s just me,” you said softly.

“You again?” His voice had a tinge of irritation, but he lowered the gun.

You entered, carefully stepping over the tall threshold, lest you trip like you did on your very first visit.

“What do you want this time?” Bakugou’s voice was tired. You couldn’t remember when his tone had changed from the snark it’d had that first time; when the hard edge had appeared. But you supposed that it happened to everybody over time.

Placing your hands behind your back, you looked around the room, inspecting the shelves.

“You got anything new?”

Bakugou gestured behind him before he picked up an oiled cloth and a rusty handgun receiver. “Bought a couple of crates from a traveler yesterday. Haven’t had a chance to look at them properly yet.”

Slipping behind the counter, you crouched next to the crates, slowly searching through the contents. Despite how irritated Bakugou had sounded when you showed up, it was testament to his trust that he allowed you to be behind him. It had taken years of visits before he’d stopped watching you like a hawk, longer still for him to relax in your presence. Turning your head, you just watched him for a while, watched his broad, scarred shoulders move under his tattered, sleeveless shirt as he cleaned the rusty handgun, gaze focused on the weapon. His movements were fluid with decades of practice. Hypnotizing. 

Bakugou spared you a glance. “Found anything?”

“Not yet,” you replied, eyes snapping back to the crates. 

You heard a soft chuckle but chose to ignore it as your fingertips brushed over something papery. Digging your hands further into the crate, you pulled out a stack of books, their pages yellow with age. 

“Bakugou, look at this!”

He turned, one eyebrow rising when he saw the stack in your hands.

“Heh, only a nerd like you would be so happy over books.”

“I’m a scholar, you old fart!” you retorted.

Bakugou bundled the oiled cloth in his fists, preparing to throw it at you as punishment. His hands sank when you took no notice of him, too busy looking through the books. He had to fight to keep the fond smile off his lips when you looked back up, your eyes shining with glee.

You held a book out to him. “Check this one out!”

Bakugou just looked at you for a moment. “You know I can’t read that old-ass language - what did you call it again, English? People like you pick up the most useless skills.”

You shrugged, looking back at the book. “It’s useful for treasure hunting. And you know my lock-picking skills are excellent.” Tapping the cover, you added, “It’s a book of fairy tales.”

“Keh, children’s drivel,” Bakugou replied. “Sounds like it’ll be right up your alley.”

Ignoring him, you moved on to the next book. “And this one… ‘maps of the contiguous United States.’ Okay, this one is useless.”

Looking through the rest of the books, you deemed everything but the book of fairy tales unworthy. Holding out the book again, you asked, “How much?”

Bakugou scoffed. “You can have it. Can’t sell that shit anyway. Might as well give it to someone who’ll enjoy it.”

You beamed at him. “I’ll read it to the kids at the village in your honor.”

He shrugged, returning to his gun-cleaning. “If you must.”

Settling on the lid of one of the crates, you spent a moment looking at the movement of his shoulders again.

“Why don’t you ever come to the village? It’s safe there, and I’m sure your fighting experience would be appreciated. You don’t have to live by yourself.”

Baugou stopped for a moment, just staring at his hands, fingers flexing. “I don’t get along with people,” he finally said.

“You get along with me…”

“You’re an exception.”

You looked at the book again, fighting to keep the heat from rising in your cheeks from the unexpected compliment. Looking over the faded cover picture of five mice dancing around a cat, you then opened the book to the first tale.

“Want me to read it to you? It’ll let me practice reading for the kids.” 

He shrugged again. “If you want.”

You started reading, pausing on occasion to think of a good translation or to explain some archaic term. During one of these times, you noticed that Bakugou had stopped working. He was leaning on the counter, hands still, eyes soft and unfocused as he listened. 

He frowned, his eyes slipping back into focus. “Why’d you stop?”

“Just thinking.”

You continued reading, a smile blooming on your lips.

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, comments, reblogs, and asks (on and off anon) are always greatly appreciated! If you like, you can check out my other works here. Love, Em 💖

[the-s1lly-corner]

A bandage scrap (Eyeless Jack x Reader) (Ending 4)

guys im not going to lie i had a blast writing this one! this ones really heavy on my take on jack so right out the gate im going to say that this might not be everyones cup of tea </3 though tbf if youve been reading my other writings of him youre already used to my interpretation on him so uhuhuhuh yeah notes: reader is gn, this is a slender mansion au but jack is still reclusive and keeps to himself, slight angst with comfort, no mouth to mouth kiss but there is a kiss dwdw cws: mentions of cannibalism- though does it count if jack doesnt count as a human depending on whos writing him/hj word count: 2k REMEMBER!! that there is a poll at the end to determine another ending!! we already did jeff, nina, and masky!

You reach your hand into the hat and pull out…

A scrap from a bandage. Unused, thankfully. Your eyes immediately snap up between both of the Jacks, either of them could have put it in- both wearing wrappings in at least one place on their bodies. Eyeless Jack lazily pushes himself to his feet before Jeff can even make a move towards him to yank him to his feet. The act of defiance seemed to tick the burned man off, who seemed way too eager to start manhandling people for the sake of ushering them down the hallway. 

Jack took a few steps away to the hallway, and when he didn’t hear you following after him he jerked his head- an invitation or demand for you to follow-

“Come on, let’s get this over with,” He muttered lowly, and he couldn’t sound anymore uninterested. 

With a slight dip of your head in acknowledgement- which you quickly realized he couldn’t see thanks to his back being towards you- you caught up with him with far too many eyes following your every movement. 

“Fuckin’ buzzkill,” You heard Jeff mutter as he walked to the opening of the hall and called out after you. “Seven minutes as soon as the door shuts!” 

Neither of you say anything.

Jack opened the door to the closet and stepped inside. You followed, the two of you still remaining silent even after you shut the door behind you. Jack walks to the back wall of the space, and leans against the wall. In the dim lighting, you can see him folding his arms over his chest. You lean against the door. 

The quiet continues for the next ten or so seconds, eating into the several minutes you were given alone with the man… creature… monster… demon…

You weren’t sure exactly what he was if you were being honest. 

But the point still stood, the air was thick with awkwardness and you didn’t know how to cut through it. 

“So…” You begin, but he doesn’t give you any response.

“You don’t seem like you wanted to play this game,” You added after a second to give Jack the chance to change his mind on his silence. “How come you put in the bandage?”

“Nina put it in,” He nearly growled. He took a moment to soften his voice. “I didn’t want to…” You can basically hear him shifting his jaw around behind his mask, “come down and… party… It was her idea, said it would be good to spend some time with everyone…” 

That sounded like her, in fact she had been pushy in asking you to come down and join everyone else downstairs for the night. 

You only hum, and look anywhere else but Jack. He was one of the most reclusive of all the people living here, perhaps Masky or Slenderman were close competition. Jack hardly left his room, and when he did you never caught him. He ate his meals in his room, or at least that’s what you thought the noises coming from the otherside of his door were. You couldn’t lie, you were shocked when you saw him downstairs tonight. 

Nina must have done… one hell of a job convincing him… unless she forcefully dragged him from his room. 

Your eyes darted to Jack’s claws, to which he immediately hid them by hiding them in his crossed arms. 

“Why not just leave the closet? I mean… well,” You start, the air still being nearly unbearable. Talking did nothing to ease the tension.

“It’s not like we’re going to kiss, unless you want that-” 

You snap your jaws shut and look down at your feet. Why did you say that? Why didn’t you hate those words as much as you felt you should? Why didn’t the idea seem so bad?

Would it be that bad?

“You wouldn’t like it, I taste horrible,” He said under his breath. He said something else, but you could hardly catch it as it slipped past his teeth… what kind of teeth did he have? You heard about the things he’s used them for… surely they’d be sharp?

You bat the thought away before it had the chance to shift into something else. 

“Why? Does your breath stink?” You tease.

Jack simply stares towards you, mask rendering him unreadable. 

“Tar?”

“Tar.” He said curtly. 

“Well I’m sure it doesn’t taste that bad, besides doesn’t it only drip from your eyes? I don’t think I’ve noticed it coming from the…” You point to your chin.

 “No, but sometimes it gets smeared around, what doesn’t leave the mask,” 

You offer a hum and press your palms against the door and push yourself off of it. You take a small step towards Jack, followed by another. As you closed the distance Jack made no move to keep you away. 

“Is that the only reason it’s not a good idea to kiss you?” You tilt your head to the side. Jack growled lowly in his chest… but it didn’t sound… hostile… 

“You’d risk getting bitten,” He said- this time the tone of his voice felt… different…

The tar mention seemed to be said casually, but this…

“I could be into that you don’t know if I’m not,” You joke, but he shakes his head. “You know I eat people, right? Do you really want a kiss from me?” 

You pause, and genuinely think about it. 

“I think Nina’s mentioned that you do it because you physically can’t eat anything else, and that you mostly target shitty people or something? At least when you can “help it”, whatever that means… Actually compared to the others here,” You start to go on a small tangent. He wasn’t the only person eating humans here, you could probably list at least two other people who at least snack on it. 

“Can’t lie and say the thought hasn’t at least crossed my mind, honestly if you’re down with sharing-” 

Jack cuts you off in a voice that reminds you of a bark. 

“I don’t want to eat- I don’t want to eat you!” He spits out, and finally leaves his position from the wall. 

Angry, exasperated, with… what you could only describe as an undertone of guilt, he takes a long hissing breath between his teeth. 

“Do you think I wanted this?” He huffed. “Do you think I wanted to leave my life behind and skip out- disown- ignore-” He struggles to find the word. “There’s so much I want to do that I can’t because I risk losing it and attacking anyone around me, do you know how much danger you’re in right now?”

You frown, and look away from him. This was such a large departure from the Jack that you were talking to just a minute or two ago- you had touched a tough topic, and continued to push it. 

You vaguely recall more details that Nina had told you in passing about her friend, and connected them with Jack’s outburst. 

“I don’t want to eat you,” repeats in your mind for a moment as everything seems to click. 

Did he mean you as in… generally… or you as in you? 

“If my teeth so much as nick you so many bad things could happen,” 

He had still been going on while you were thinking.

And you’re struck with an idea. 

“What if we kiss without…” You lift your hands together and mesh the fingers together. “You know?” 

The suggestion catches Jack off guard and he falls quiet. His breathing was deep and rough under his mask, it wasn’t loud but it was noticeable. It vaguely reminded you of an animal. 

You wondered if Jack thought the same about himself.

“You’re still on the kissing thing?” He asks, and he sounds much… less worked up, more confused than anything. 

You nod and smile up at him. “I mean, I’m okay not getting one if you aren’t interested- won’t let it hurt my ego, buuuuut…” You wink at him. “Humor my curiosity? Even if it’s not on the mouth?” 

He sighs, but he leans in closer to you. “Were you intending to kiss my mask?” He asked. 

“No, actually, I had another plan,” You smile. You wave your hand to motion for him to give you your space back. 

You close that hand into a fist and bring it to your mouth, and gently press your lips to it. Jack watched silently as you kissed your hand.  

“See? Like that, you go on and give it a try- hand skin is harder to break than mouth skin right?”

You weren’t entirely sure of that, but even if you were wrong Jack didn’t make a comment. The black sockets of his mask peer straight into you- eyes or not, he knew how to look at someone in a way that made the hairs on their body stand on end.

He reached a gray hand to his mask and pushed it up just enough to reveal his mouth. Just as you had thought, he has sharp teeth instead of… normal people teeth… 

“You didn’t need to take the mask off,”

“It’s not off,” He corrected. 

He wasn’t wrong, and you weren’t going to ruin the moment by arguing with him on specifics. You raise your fist closer to him and stopped a few inches away from his lips. To your surprise he gently clasped his hands around your hand and brought it closer. Each movement was careful and feather light, being extremely mindful of the blackened claws at the tips of his fingers. 

He hesitates for just a moment before he finally presses his lips to your skin.

And he was cold. Freezing, actually. All of him was cold, now that you were now more than aware of how his hands cupped you. His mouth feels awkward in how he pressed them to you, as if he didn’t know how to form them together or how much pressure to apply. You were tempted to ask if kissing was one of the things he had to leave behind but decided to keep silent out of fear that it would undo everything. 

It all only lasts a second before he’s returning your fist to you.

He didn’t break your skin- neither by claw nor by teeth. 

You offer him a smile. He pulls his mask down before you can see if he returned it. 

“See, that-” 

The door of the closet is swung open and light floods over the two of you. 

You hadn’t heard Jeff calling that time was almost up, or did he just not call it out? Regardless, you’re caught off guard while Jack remains completely unphased. 

“Alright, both of you- out-” Jeff scrapes his eyes over the two of you.

“Didn’t even do anything, huh? What’s the point of…” He huffs. Jeff leans in to you as you step out. “You know you can play multiple rounds, he thinks he’s above everyone. Shame that you had your fun spoiled-”

You wave him off, quieting him. Jeff finally walks away down the hall to start the second round of the game.

You find Jack walking a few feet in front of him, already beelinging for the stairs- most definitely making his way back to his room. You speed up to catch up to him, you didn’t care about rejoining the game now. 

You both take the first step together.

“We can do that again sometime, if you want… help you you know… feel more…” 

“Secure? Is that the right word? No.. confident? No wait that makes you sound shy,” 

Jack stares down at you again. 

“It’s your body you’re putting at risk,” He said softly, but it almost sounded… lighthearted. Or at least as much as he can get given his circumstances. You grin at the back of his head as he continues forward.

“Why not start now?” 

He falters on the step, face glued forward. 

It’s a long pause before he does anything, and when he does he simply jerks his head for you to follow.

Just as he had done when you drew his item.

[miwiromantics]

bringing these theory back:

i've seen someone mention the dnd game in season 3 might be foreshadowing and i don't think we talk about it enough.

so it starts off with a town getting attacked; (e.g Hawkins)

and then Will starts off with saying "do you guys here that, it sounds like thunder...but no wait, that's not thunder; that's a hoard of juju zombies"

so the scene shows will planning out a dnd game where they are being attacked by zombies. this sounds really familiar with the plot of season 3, with heather and billy being possessed by the mind flayer and basically acting like mindless zombies.

if billy and heather (and the rest who were 'flayed') are considered zombies and the mind flayer is basically made up of all of them, then it's true that the whole game in season 3 is foreshadowing to the later events (the whole starcourt battle scene)

behind flayed!billy in this scene, we see a lot of other characters here. this very obviously takes place in the upside down

[screenshots from 'Billy gets possessed' by AceWolfBoy on youtube]

and in season 4, nancy says that there isn't anybody in the upside down and then she adds “as far as i understand yeah" but it definitely could be foreshadowing as well.

[screenshots from 'the mind flayer speaks' by Nerd Clips HD on youtube]

he tells el that "i can see you, we all can see you" someone said that this was henry talking through billy and i completely agree. he's referring to the flayed (zombies) as 'we'.

so theory: the mind flayer could possibly come back in season 5 and hoards and hoards of people could be possessed to basically break down hawkins. maybe the return of billy and heather as well

we also get this scene:

[screenshots from 'Mike and Will fight' by Gin Freecs on youtube]

looks like a scene where mike's just making fun of the game. but if the first part of the game was foreshadowing, could this also be?

could we possibly maybe get a scene in season 5 where mike is fighting the mind flayer and loses an arm?

and then this scene right here;

potential sacrificing???

also the whole 'not thunder, but zombies' thing in the dnd game made me think a lot about how in the upside down the only sounds you here other than the creatures themselves is thunder. could be, again, foreshadowing of (possessed) people in the upside down.

i know it's not much but i feel like we don't talk much about these scenes and how season 3 had a lot of potential spoilers. these were all theories made back in 2022 and i'm really tryna bring them back to relevance again. could be fun to think about a potential fight scene with mike and the mindflayer/ the flayed and losing an arm (since we were robbed of the possible scar he could've gotten from the fight with billy) and maybe some potential sacrificing from the characters (either mike or lucas), and the idea of actual people fighting against them instead of just monsters.

[hoejosatoru]

Hating Game

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Reiner

Summary: Your friends are sick of the constant fighting between you and Reiner. They creature a plan that they hope will force the two of you to get along, which ends ups working a little too well. This is basically born from me hating Reiner, but then Mappa made him hot and now I have complicated feelings about it.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Reader has no specified skin or hair color, name calling (bitch, douche, dick, slut etc), being locked in with someone, you and Reiner are mean to each other, y/n mentions kissing a girl, fingering, light choking, riding him, teasing, rough sex, a touch of cervix fucking, doggy, cream pie, being walked in on not proof read MDNI

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” you growled, banging on the locked door.

“This will be good for you both,” Armin’s muffled voice responded.

“Nothing could be good about being stuck with her,” Reiner, the bane of your existence, shouted back. Just the sound of his voice made your body cringe.

“That attitude is exactly why you’re in there,” Mikasa replied from the other side of the door. You couldn’t believe your friends conspired against you like this. You had been told to grab a cooler from the basement when you found Reiner down there looking for the same thing.

“I’m already on that,” he had said.

“Well maybe if you weren’t such an incompetent idiot then they wouldn't have sent me.”

And then you heard the telltale sound of a door shutting and locking. Bringing you to where you are now, begging to friends behind that locked door.

“Eren come on, you have to agree this is evil.” Eren was the one person who was on the same page about you with Reiner. You shared many laughs at his expense, but your hatred definitely ran a bit deeper.

“Sorry, y/n, I got out voted,” he replied. “And didn’t want to get locked in there with you.” There was a current of laughter in his voice and even though he was your good friend, you knew he probably found this hilarious. You were going to strangle him when you got out of here.

“This is a fire hazard,” Reiner huffed. Even though he was a steps below you, you could feel his breath on your neck. You wanted to retch.

“We will be done by the lake, if there is a fire we’d see it before you,” Armin replied. His voice was getting harder to hear, meaning he was getting further away. “All you have to do is make up and we will let you out. Good luck!” You were also going to strangle Armin when you got out.

You banged on the door and called their names a few more times, but there was no response. They were gone, they truly locked you in here with him. Fuck it, you were going to strangle all of them. Sasha, Jean, and Connie were all in on it and they would not be excluded from your ire.

“Would you fucking stop with the banging? They’re obviously not coming back and you’re giving me a headache,” Reiner grumbled.

“Your fucking voice gives me a headache,” you huffed, pushing past him down the stairs. You could not believe this. This was supposed to be a relaxing weekend. You’d been looking forward to hanging out with your friends at the Armin’s family lake house for weeks. You had been determined to not let Reiners presence ruin that, but that clearly didn’t work.

“You’re such a bitch.”

“You’re a fucking douche bag.”

A typical conversation between you and Reiner, truly. This plot was going to backfire because being stuck with him on this beautiful day was making you want to kill him more, not less. You scanned the basement, which was thankfully finished. If you had been stuck in a musty concrete basement with Reiner all day you probably would have just drowned yourself in the lake. As nice as it was, though, there was no escape. There were a few windows at the very top, but they were typical tiny basement windows. There was no way you could fit through them. There was a bathroom that you could lock yourself in, but you didn’t want to make things easier for him. Although a toilet would be better company.

“You’re breathing too loud,” you said, icily. That was one thing you hated about him - his complete  lack of self awareness. Whether he was talking loudly or man spreading, he never had any qualms about dominating the space around him. It grated your nerves.

“Oh, I’m sorry, should I stop?” he asked with false sincerity.

“Yes, actually I would love that.”

He flipped you off, you rolled your eyes. Great fucking plan Armin!

You were sure exactly what caused your mutual hatred. There was never one big fight, it had always been this way. You were like cats and dogs, oil and water, toothpaste and orange juice - you just did not mix. Over time that dislike grew to disdain and has now blossomed into full-blown hatred.

“It’s your fault we are in here,” Reiner stated.

“Wow, you not taking any accountability? Consider me shocked,” you replied with faux surprise.

“You know you’re a bigger bitch than me.”

You snorted. “Are you calling yourself a little bitch? In that case I fully agree.”

“I am not calling myself a little bitch,” Reiner hissed. He sounded so ridiculous it made you bust out laughing, which only pissed him off more. “But I am saying you’re nasty for no reason.”

“I always have a reason,” you retorted, “and the reason is you’re a dick.”

“Right, and you’re an angel,” Reiner replied sardonically.

You ran your tongue over your canine, smiling wickedly. “Funny, that’s what Historia said after she kissed me.” It was the worst kept secret in your friend group that Reiner had a huge crush on Historia, who wanted nothing to do with him romantically. You and Historia kissed at a party once - a meaningless drunk make out, but you knew it drove Reiner insane. It was your favorite button of his to push.

Reiner’s eye twitched and his jaw clenched. He was pissed. You could laugh. “Oh fuck off.” 

“Aw did I strike a nerve?” you questioned, “It’s probably for the best Historia doesn't like guys. I’m not sure your ego could survive hooking up with her and not making her cum.”

“I can make girls cum,” Reiner snapped, which made you laugh.

“Any man that says he can make girls cum absolutely can’t.”

“Right like you’re any better? You’re such a frigid bitch I bet you just lay there like a dead fish,” Reiner replied.

“You know, I’ve heard imagination is only as good as your experiences,” you said, “Do you have a lot experiences with girls laying under you like a dead fish? I’ll let you in on a little secret- that means they’re not enjoying it.”

“You think a lot about me having sex, huh? If you want me, you just have to ask,” Reiner jabbed. He was standing right in from you now and you hated that you had to look up at him, how his body was so large it eclipsed yours. “Of course, the answer will be no, but it will give me a good laugh.”

You fake gagged. “You fucking wish.”

You stared at each other with a palpable intensity. You wanted to say it was just hatred, but you knew there was something else there, lurking underneath. You would never, ever, ever admit it. But there was a very small (microscopic, you swear) part of you that was attracted to Reiner. It was like the stupid, cavewoman part of your brain that couldn’t control. You hated the way your body reacted to him, it was like a betrayal. It only fueled your hatred for him more.

“I hate you,” Reiner said.

“I hate you more,” you hissed, “Now get out of my fucking face.” You lifted your hands to shove him away, but Reiner grabbed your wrists. It was the first time he’d ever touched you and it felt... strange. Like and electric shock. You saw the bewildered look in his eye and knew he felt it too.

There was a beat of tense, charged silence before you crashed together. You couldn’t say who kissed who first; it was mutual pull like magnets. You couldn’t really process what was happening, one second you were telling him you hated him and the next you were kissing. Not just kissing, but a deep, desperate make out. 

Your hands were all over each other, wild and frantic. His hands were tangled in your hair, yours gripping his strong shoulders and sliding up his neck. You felt insane; you couldn’t believe you were doing this. Kissing Reiner. Worse, you were aching for more. Your hatred for him was still there, but you couldn’t fight the feeling building in your lower stomach.

You both pulled away, breathless. “I still hate you,” you growled.

“Fuck you.”

And then you were kissing again. Reiner was pulling you down to the floor with him, your body straddling his. His large hand slid up your thighs and into your shorts. You gasped as his finger glided over your underwear, then into them. “You’re real fucking wet for someone you’re suppose to hate,” Reiner smirked, toying with your pussy.

Your gripped his cock through his pants and squeezed it. Hard. Reiner groaned. “And you’re rock fucking hard for a frigid bitch.” Your grip loosened on him as Reiner slipped a finger inside you, pressing a spot that made you weak. Reiner smirked at your reaction. So it’s gonna be like that, huh?

You attacked his lips as he fingered you. His long, thick fingers feeling better than you cared to admit. You bit at his lower lip, tugging on it before releasing. Reiner groaned into your mouth at the sharpness of your teeth against his annoyingly soft lips. He pumped his fingers into you hard and fast, your pussy’s wetness making the act obscenely loud. You hated the tangible proof of how aroused you were by him.

Your hands wrapped around his neck. “I should choke the shit out of you,” you grumbled. His body leaned into your touch, prompting you to give his neck a squeeze. A deep groan escaped his and his dick twitched against your thighs. “Oh you like that?” You squeeze harder. “You like being put in your place?” You squeezed even harder, devouring his lips until he was gasping and moaning. His thumb found your clit, rubbing it until your limbs felt weak and you released your grip on his throat. 

“You’re fucking dripping down my hand. Bet you wanna cum so bad, huh?” Your eyes narrowed and you swallowed a moan. You did want to cum, but no way in hell you were caving before he did. You had to keep a shred of your dignity. You swatting his hands away and yanked his boxers down. You tried to keep your face as neutral as possible as you took in the size of him. His cock was annoyingly big. God you had wanted him to have a 2incher so you could laugh in his face, but you couldn’t. He was long and thick in away that made your pussy flutter in anticipation. Not that you’d ever tell him that.

“And desperate to have me inside? Never knew you had it so bad for me,” Reiner said. He was trying to look relaxed, but you didn’t miss how his face twitched as you ran his tip through your slick folds.

“More like I'm desperate to see how quickly you cum,” you fired back. You teased the tip at your aching hole, hating how badly it wanted to suck him in. You didn’t give in yet, wanting to get him more desperate. “What’s your record, one minute? Two?”

Reiner groaned as you squeezed the base of his cock while swirling his tip over your clit. “I can outlast you.” His strained voice said otherwise. “You’re stalling because you know it's true.”

Just to prove him wrong you sunk down on his cock. You went as fast as his thickness allowed, which, frustratingly, was not that fast. You felt the sweet-aching stretch all the way down in your toes. You wanted so badly to not show his effect on you, but a few traitorous moans escaped your lips. Your annoyance at yourself was only quelled when a desperate, throaty groan left his mouth as you bottomed out.

You moved your hips slowly, both to allow yourself to adjust and to tease him more. By the way his hands dug into your hips, you knew it was working. “I know you wanna say it.”

“What?” Reiner questioned, his eyes shamelessly on where he disappears inside you.

“How tight I am.” You squeezed him to emphasize the point, making him grit his teeth. “How good I feel, wet and warm and squeezing your aching cock.” You moved your hips faster as you spoke, a sweat breaking on his brow.

“You’re - fuck-  fucking full of yourself.” The hiccup in his sentence gave you a rush a pride.

“Doesn’t change the fact that you’re desperate to empty yourself inside me,” you pressed on. His hips hitched, meeting yours with small thrusts. He hit a spot deep inside you that made your head fall back, but you didn’t let it deter you. “Bet you’ve dreamt about this. Bet I feel better than you fucking imagined. Admit it.”

“Fuck you.”

You snickered. “I should stop now an blue ball y-”

Before you could finish, or even process what was happened, you were flipped over, ass up and against Reiner. One large hand was on the back of your neck, squishing your face into the carpet. His other hand gripped both your wrists at your lower back, rendering you immobile. “You fucking talk too much.”

Reiner pounded into you, years of frustration coming out in each thrust. He was so deep, you felt him in your stomach, pleasuring parts of you you didn’t know existed. You were helpless, totally submitted to him. You hated it, but you fucking loved it, which what you really hated.

“Fu-nngh-ck” you gasped.

“Oh you like that? You like being put in your place?” Reiner spat your words back out at you. Your pussy pulsed at his words. Reiner chuckled. “You really do like it, huh? Can feel your fucking pussy sucking me in.” He let go of the hand on your neck to grip your hips, letting him get impossibly deeper in you. His tip bruised your cervix in the sweetest, most sinful way.

“Now who’s fucking full of themself?” You snapped, your voice ragged.

“No you’re full of me,” Reiner retorted. “You hate me so much yet you’re taking my dick like a slut. Gonna fucking cum all over me.”

Oh you were not going to let him win. “You’re a piece of fucking shit,” you spat. You squeezed him and wiggled your him against him as best your position allowed. You hear him curse through his teeth behind you. You knew he was close, you could feel it.

But Reiner was not going down without a fight. His fingers found your clit, rubbing hard circles over the sensitive bud. You cried out, a tightening in your lower stomach telling you were close. Desperate times call for desperate measures. You moaned his name, letting all the pleasure you were trying to mask fill the sinful sound of his name. 

Reiner’s hips twitched and you knew you won before you even felt his thick, warm cum fill you. He moaned, a deep, throaty sound as he filled you up. The ecstasy of your triumph pushed you over the edge, a white hot pleasure flaming through your body. It felt so good you couldn’t even keep yourself quiet if you wanted to.

“Oh. My. God.”

Your eyes snapped open because that was not Reiner’s voice. Your head snapped up and found Eren and Armin standing on the stairs look down at you. From that angle, they couldn't see your naked lower half over the couch, but the position you were in left little to imagine. Not to mention the sounds the probably here. Oh god.

Eren was laughing his head off. “This is too fucking good, oh my god.”

“I’m going to fucking kill you Eren,” you yelled. He was never going to let you live this one down.

“Well,” Armin said, “That plan went better than expected.”

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

Double trouble

Word count: 1900+

Warnings: brawling doggos → mentions of blood and wounds

For @erisweekofficial, Day 4: Tradition/Hounds

Dividers by @tsunami-of-tears

It was quite warm autumn day and Eris headed to the secret pathway that led from garden straight to a long forgotten ruins of temple hidden among the trees on the hill behind the Forest House. He loved that place ever since he found it as a child and he often played between the half collapsed walls. Under the ruins dwelled source of ancient powerful magic that pulsed through the ground and called to him, filling his veins with fire, connecting him with essence of Autumn on a primal level. It didn't give him a real power though, only recharged him and his tired soul, but the experience was so magnificent that his body asked for it every now and then.

Eris was in a good mood, his steps light. His amber eyes shone happily as he imagined all the things he could do today. With Beron on a business trip and all paperwork done, he had an entire day to do whatever he wanted. Of course he was going to spend it with his hounds. There was nothing that could bring him more joy than the twelve four legged furry creatures.

He used to keep them in a stable, but ever since he took them to the ruins, they didn't want to return back to the estate. Maybe they also felt the power breathing under their paws or they just liked that place; he didn't know. It was the first and only time the whole pack disobeyed him. Thus he warded the ruins to keep them safe and turned it into their home.

When autumn heir was sure that nobody would hear him, he started to whistle melody that nonstop played in his head for weeks now. As he got closer to the ruins, the quiet forest filled with a sound of barking that was quickly getting closer. His smokehounds heard him coming and decided to go to welcome their master.

The first hound that reached him, was naturally Lightening, the fastest of them. He came running in a full speed and without slowing down jumped at Eris. Even though he expected it, the impact threw him off his legs and he landed on his back sprawled on the soft forest ground. In a blink of eye, he was surrounded by the whole pack.

The hounds barked happily, wagging their tails, jumping around him and on him. Most of them was just trying to lick his face affectionately, some wanted to be scratched between ears or have their bellies rubbed.

Eris laughed from the bottom of his heart. "Enough. I love you too, guys. It tickles." But they ignored his attempts to at least sit up and merrily continued in the game. It was rare to get their master's face within the reach.

However, two of them, namely Badger and Scotches, didn't seem to be interested in their master. They sniffed all his pockets, trying to get their snouts in. No matter how much they tried, they couldn't get inside, so they tried to tear the fabric with teeth and paws. Eris pushed them away, but they returned aiming to get some treats.

As much as Eris loved to snuggle and play with his loves, he couldn't tolerate such behaviour. He whistled shortly and hounds immediately lined up, waiting patiently.

Eris stood up, brushing the leaves and dirt from his clothes while eyeing the two miscreants. They both hung their head guilty, avoiding his eyes.

"You have to deserve them," he raised a brow at them and the rest of pack gave them judging looks, grumbling. If it wasn't for these two, they could still play with master.

Eris whistled again and hounds straightened up, their attention trained on him. As usual, Eris went through the simple commands, closely watching whether all hounds accomplished them properly. After completing command every hound was rewarded with Eris's special dog crackers that he prepared himself according to his personal secret recipe. It took him years to find the perfect balance of nutrients and good taste.

Ten hounds performed perfectly, only Badger and Scotches were sluggish and apparently didn't want to cooperate. Eris narrowed eyes at them. They ignored him though. In result, they didn't get crackers, not even once. They watched enviously as everyone around them crunched the treat between teeth, happily wagging the tails. By the time the training was over, they were frowning at Eris and angrily growling at their comrades.

Eris decided to treat his hounds with one extra portion of crackers and that was when those two snapped. Eris was giving cracker to the hound standing between them, when they launched at it almost biting into Eris's fingers in the process. He managed to yank his hand back in time before the sharp canines snapped together. Greystone that stood between them, closing eyes jerked his head back to avoid the collision.

Scotches, a bit faster one, almost got the cracker, but Badger slammed into him from the side. The treat fell to the ground and the two started to fight over it. The rest of the hounds backed up from them creating a circle around. Two brawlers growled at each other, trying to kill the opponent.

Eris took out a silver whistle that he used only rarely as Scotches was the one who usually stopped every fight between hounds. It didn't work. Completely ignoring every command, they fought rolling on the ground. When the first few drops of blood sprinkled the grass, Kama, the softest and kindest of them all, launched forward. She fearlessly jumped between them, snapping her canines at the one and then the other, but engrossed in the fight they ignored her until Kama cried out in pain. Everything including Eris's heart froze in that moment.

Badger's teeth were closed around Kama's paw, blood dripping from his muzzle. Scotches whined and backed up with ears down, cringing. Badger slowly let go of the paw and cringing and whining started to lick the injury he caused.

Eris was in a blink of eye on his knees in front of Kama, gently holding her paw to examine it. The wound was quite deep, but fortunately nothing seemed to be broken. However, it needed stitches. Immediately.

Eris quickly sent the rest of hounds back to the ruins while ordering the two culprits to sit where they were until he returned. They were injured too, but thankfully it wasn't anything serious and all wounds would heal within an hour or so on its own. On purpose, he left the cracker as it was, on the ground in front of them, so the punishment was even more severe.

He scooped Kama into his arms and winnowed with her to the closest veterinarian who usually checked the hounds and knew them well. In the end, Kama ended up needing ten stitches. The veterinarian assured him that she should be fine and heal until the next day, but Eris was worried anyway.

Despite having big plans for his day off and especially looking forward the hunt, Eris couldn't stand the idea of letting Kama alone somewhere. Instead of returning back to ruins, he headed to the Forest House. Beron was very clear when he banned bringing hounds into rooms and specifically bedrooms, so Eris had to sneak through the hallways, looking around every corner to make sure that nobody was there. His father had spies everywhere and nothing could make them happier than to report on young heir and his breaking of rules.

"Good girl," he whispered to Kama who licked his face with gratitude. "Just stay silent, okay? If they catch us we will be in a huge trouble."

When they reached his chambers' door he waved his hand to undo the ward and quickly slipped in, immediately closing the door behind. Wards fell on its place and Eris breathed out in relief. It was hard to believe they managed to get in without being caught. Real miracle.

Eris looked around, hesitating where to put his wounded hound down. She deserved the best for her bravery. He was deciding between armchair and sofa, both soft and very comfortable, when his eyes landed on a big pillow. It was decided. He tossed it on the ground in front of hearth and gently placed Kama down on it. Flicking his wrist he lit up the fire. He reached into the pocket between the worlds, taking out two bowls. He set the bowls with water and food within Kama's reach and sat down on the floor beside her, gently scratching her between ears.

"I'm so sorry for what has happened to you," he sighed and hound looked up at him as if telling him to not worry about that. She rolled on her back, letting him rub her belly. She grunted contentedly.

"I wonder why those two vagabonds were so off today. Especially Scotches. He usually doesn't fight with others like that. Did you have some misunderstandings? Hm? Would you tell me?" He leaned down, nuzzling to her soft fur. Kama just snorted like a tired mother whose children were always in some kind of trouble.

"You need a bath, do you know it?" he teased her grinning and she gave him angry look. "I think that as soon as you get well, I'll take all of you to the river and we will have a wash day. What do you think?"

Kama whined and dramatically plopped her head down on the pillow, pouting.

"Oh, c'mon. It won't be so bad. We'll have a lot of fun." She rolled her eyes, sighing through snout deeply as if saying that he would be the only one to enjoy it.

Eris spent the rest of the day taking care of his small patient. He didn't want to leave her side even for a moment and ended up sleeping on the floor with her. Thankfully, smokehounds were magical creatures and could heal pretty fast just like Fae. Next morning Kama was healthy and again stood on all four paws. At sunrise she jumped at him, licking his face until he reluctantly opened one amber eye.

"Is this repay for the bath you'll get today?" he grunted, but he was happy that she was already healed. After eating breakfast together, he successfully sneaked her out.

They walked through the forest side by side, enjoying the early morning's cool air and bird's chirping, but before they got to the ruins, they were greeted by two hounds soundly sleeping in the grass. Badger and Scotches were exactly where Eris had left them, they didn't dare to move a single inch. Even the cracker was on the same place, now half soaked with morning drew. Eris stopped, folding hands on his chest and nodded at Kama. It was her turn to get angry with them. She nodded back and quietly stalked to the sleeping brawlers. She sat down in front of them and barked.

They both jolted, immediately sitting up with ears down. They didn't dare to look at their master nor Kama, heads hanging down. Kama narrowed her eyes at them, growling lowly and gave them a proper scold. When she was done with them, she simple walked with her nose high to the ruins where the rest of hounds was waiting, watching them curiously. The rest of comrades warmly welcomed her, nuzzling to her sides and sniffing around now healed paw.

Eris stepped to the two and crouched down. "Was it necessary?" he eyed them strictly while they uncomfortably shifted from one paw to other, still too ashamed to meet his eyes.

"Today is the wash day," he announced aloud so all hounds heard him. "You two will be sitting in the water until others get washed. All the time. No exceptions. And you, Badger, will be the last to get washed. Now come. It's time for breakfast."

Both hounds stood up and followed after Eris with tails between legs, as tame as sheep.

[heykaya]

Mentions of Sydney's Other Parent

Extracted from the game’s code (30th October 2024)

During the English Play Rehearsal, when following Kylar back to his Manor with Sydney.

You eventually reach the manor. Sydney looks shocked when you and Kylar stop. "Don't tell me... you actually still live here, Kylar?"

Kylar looks down and nods. Sydney examines the manor from a distance, noticing the temple's symbol on a pillar by the entrance.

(If Kylar’s parents trust is more than 80)

"It was a mess for so long, but it's starting to look... lived in."

(If Kylar’s parents trust is more than 40)

"I thought someone else was getting ready to move in, it's been a mess for so long, but it looks like someone's been cleaning up."

(If Kylar’s parents trust is less than 40)

"It's all... run down, how do you..."

Without responding, Kylar starts walking the main path. He looks back at you one last time, before disappearing into the manor.

The emotion on Sydney's face is hard to read.

> Still?

"What do you mean 'still'?" you ask Sydney.

"Kylar and I, when we were younger, we..." he pauses for a moment. "Our parents knew each other. We... saw each other a lot. I used to come over, it was... nice."

He examines the temple symbol on the pillar again. "Eventually, I just wasn't allowed to come over anymore. My (sydneyOtherParent*) said... no, nevermind. That's not important."

*mother/father, depending on Sirrus’ gender. If Sirrus is a male then sydneyOtherParent will be a female, and vice versa.

Dialogue from the Temple

"A question with so many answers. To whom do you speak? I am not the only one before you." He chuckles to himself. "I am the bishop."

"Father."

"Holy one."

"These two are my hands."

"Right."

"Left."

"We are, all of us, confessors. You've seen us. We've seen you. We simply blend into the background. We handle matters too... ugly... for those of Jordan's flock."

"Ignorance."

"Bliss."

>”remember"

"Ahh, so you do remember our first meeting. I knew you were a person of interest as soon as I heard about you getting out of that manor."

"Destiny?"

"Providence?"

>”jordan"

The bishop laughs. Hard. He throws his head back, and wipes a tear from his face. "Get comfortable, sweet child." All the other dark-robed figures sit down.

"Jordan's flock is the face of our order. They take confessions. They give alms, and run the soup kitchen, and smite the creatures from the other side that creep through the holes. But they won't ever harm... us. Humans. They're powerless against humans who have fallen to corruption. This is why we're needed."

He delights in speaking. "Without us, the temple would have fallen long ago. In fact, it did, once. Jordan and his order can stir soup, and spar, and fight monsters of mist and sin, but ask yourself this:

(If you know about Kylar’s parents)

Could they ever exact justice on your girlfriend’s/boyfriend’s* parents? And leave their child behind?

*depending on Kylar’s gender.

(If you don’t know about Kylar’s parents)

Could they ever fight the human monsters? No, if Jordan knew what we were capable of, it would cause another schism. But make no mistake. Jordan is our brother. Family. Kin. We all work towards the same goal. We all seek to protect. We all seek to rid the world of the Dark Elk's taint."

He pauses, and frowns. "More than that, Jordan is strong. Stronger than all of us. Stronger than we could ever hope to be. His innocence makes him so. That innocence is a shield, one that the Children of Auriga can never pierce. Belief is real, more real than the Elk's vile spawn. It is vital that Jordan remains unaware of what we do, lest our shield splinter. The seal of confession must hold, or all the world will drown."

"Our greatest strength."

"Our greatest weakness."

(If Sydney is Pure:)

He sighs. "We've only one member that could hope to match Jordan's innocence."

(If Sydney is not pure:)

He sighs. "We only had one other member that could hope to match Jordan's innocence."

>”replacement"

He grins.

(If PC if promised to Sydney)

"You should know, child. It's your beloved. Sydney."

(If PC is romancing Sydney)

"You should know, child. You've had many relations with him. Our own little Sydney."

(Else)

"I believe you've met him. Our own little Sydney."

(If Sydney is Corrupt + promised to Sydney)

"Together, As One."

"Forever, As One."

(If Sydney is Corrupt)

"Withered."

"Bloomed."

"You went and spoilt him, did you not? His innocence is gone. You couldn't have known, child, and you've made it up to us by being here now.

He’s been in the flock for years, but has been stifled by the overprotective Jordan.

(If Sydney is a monk)

I understand you're to thank for him finally passing the trial of anguish. You have our thanks for that."

(If Sydney is not a monk)

The poor boy has never been able to pass the trial of anguish.

The bishop looks down and frowns. You think you see a hint of genuine sadness. "Sydney's (mother/father) was Jordan's predecessor. A good (man/woman). We've looked after Sydney ever since. If nothing else, we're paying back a debt."

When walking along the beach with Sydney (Random dialogue)

"My (mother/father) used to bring me to the beach when I was a lot younger. This is nice."

Also mentioned by the Ivory Wraith here.

Degrees of Lewdity - Text Based Masterpost

[sunandsstars]

BRAVERY

Jake x Neytiri x Na’vi!Reader x Lo’ak (Platonic)

Summary: After almost dying, ___ and Lo’ak come back home to a very unhappy Jake Sully. Warnings: Abandonment, Wounds, Pregnancy, Harsh parenting, Mentions of death Word count: 2.4k

“Lo’ak! Prrnen! Where are you?”

___ jogged through the forest, eyes wide and alert, ears going left and right. The boy was lost for some time, he and his brother Neteyam went out into the forest to play ‘hide and seek’ a game the humans introduced, but when the older boy came back crying stating he lost his brother, ___ rushed out as fast as she could to find him.

Neytiri was doing her Tsahìk lessons with her mother and Jake was inside the skyperson building, so the other Na’vi was the only one available to get her son. “Lo’ak?” soft whimpers could be heard to the left of her, pulling back large leaves and vines she saw a head of black braided hair and yellow eyes filled with tears “oh my baby” immediately ___ pulled him into her arms.

“Mama!” the boy gripped her arms and nuzzled into her chest “I’m sorry! I got lost and could not find home”. ___ wiped his eyes and kissed his head, hushing him into calmness.

“It is alright my warrior, mama’s here now, you are safe” she stood up to her feet and pulled Lo’ak to rest on her hip, the little boy continued to weep into her shoulder, her heart ached for her son. The forest was his home, but it could be scary when you, a child, was left to fend for yourself so far out from camp and for so long too. She’s been searching for a while.

___ walked back home with Lo’ak on her hip, who was slowly falling asleep, exhaustion setting in. She continued to hum his song cord, taking note of the sky changing from a bright blue to a pretty orange, eclipse was near. She was sure her mates would be worried for her and their child, she just hoped Neteyam wasn’t too upset.

A sharp noise came from somewhere behind them and she paused, her ears turning back to catch anything. ___ glanced at her son who was fast asleep, head on her shoulder, she took her hand and placed it on the side of his face protectively and slowly twisted around.

Nothing.

‘Maybe it was syaksyuk..’ she hoped, slowly starting to step forward again in the direction of home. But before she could step out from the clearing they where in, a growl sounded in front of them in the shadows. A large black creature revealed itself from the fauna and bared its teeth, ___’s heart leapt out of her chest ‘palulukan’

Lo’ak twisted in her grasp and opened his eyes, rubbing them and taking note that they were still not home “Sa’nok?”. Immediately he was shushed, in confusion he looked up and then to the direction his mother was staring at, seeing the animal they were faced to face with.

The child’s yellow eyes widened and his ears turned back, his other mother, Neytiri, told him of a story in which she rode a palulukan in the war. She told him that it chose her and that it was a good ally and companion even in the short time. But she also told him they were dangerous, it’s name meaning bringer of fear, and that he should stay away from them at all costs.

The creature stalked closer, jaw opening wider and Lo’ak visibly shook, fear settling in harsh. He hissed on instinct, opening his mouth and baring his teeth. A roar came out of the animals mouth and it retaliated, now starting to run towards them, taking Lo’ak’s threat personally.

A gasp was heard above him and he felt them move faster than they were before, ___ climbing roots to the best of her ability, body heavy with much weight, as the Palulukan scratched at them, breaking off parts of the forest in its path. “Close your eyes baby, do not look”

The boy didn’t have to be told twice as his eyes instantly closed, clutching his mama around the neck and squeezing tight.

___ winced loudly as she felt claws scratch at her back, feeling blood drip down onto the floor, leaving a trail and no doubt a heavy scent. She wouldn’t be able to lose the creature even if she tried.

It roared again, much louder than the last, annoyed that it’s prey was slipping away as the Na’vi dodged between trees and ducked under large roots and leaves, the only thing guiding them to home was the glow of the forest.

A sharp whistle of an arrow sounded through the heavy breathing of ___ and the Palulukan’s growls. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a flash of yellow and green and her ears fell back at another roar, this time of pain. Neytiri jumped down in front of them, arrow knocked and ready to shoot again, she hissed at the animal, much more ferocious than Lo’ak’s.

Recognising his mothers war cry, the boy snapped his eyes open and weeped with relief “sa’nok!!”. Another hiss was heard, this time it dragged longer than the archer and was much deeper than either woman’s.

“Get back to camp!” Jake skidded out of the tree line and jumped on the Palulukan with his knife, trying his best to cut a nerve to bring the animal down. ___ sighed with relief and sprinted back home, which thankfully wasn’t much farther, she hoped her mates would be ok, but she didn’t worry for them. They were strong.

“Mama!” two little voices shouted over the sound of rushing Na’vi, Neteyam and Kiri came running at them and hugged ___’s shaking legs. “You are scared” Kiri voiced her thoughts, taking note of the wobbly knees and heavy breathing, “We heard it. The roaring”

“I thought I would never see you two again” the eldest boy clutched tight, wiping his eyes and nose.

___ sat down onto the ground, kissing Lo’ak’s head and bringing both of the other children into her warm arms. “We are ok, I found your brother and we ran back, nothing can hurt us here”

“You’re hurt” Norm and Max came running with a medkit, skidding to a stop behind her and assessing the scratches “these don’t look that deep, enough to draw blood and scar though. But you won’t face any infections if treated correctly”

“Which is what I will be doing” a stern voice sounded to the left of the group, Mo’at came stalking with a basket of healing herbs. She trusted these humans, but she does not agree with their ways, preferring the great mothers help than those of burning alcohol and strange cotton wraps. She knelt down and glanced at the two men who nodded and packed the kit, sitting back and watching her work. The older Na’vi took a salve and applied it to the wounds, hearing her daughter in law hiss and growl softly to the sting.

“Grandma, you should have used the other one” Kiri peeked over her mama’s shoulder to watch Mo’at work, not afraid of the blood and gore.

“Oh? And why is that?”

“It would sting less”

___ chuckled and felt the burn disperse, sighing. Her mind drifted a little more, hand moving from Neteyam who was still clutched to her side, to her stomach which held a large noticeable bump. She was sure the adrenaline and stress got to the baby, but when feeling a soft kick to her hand all was well.

Mo’at finished with the back and then crawled to ___’s front, placing her own hand upon the bump “you two are fine, the great mother continues to shine on you” she grinned. Thanking Eywa for leaving the baby and her grandson unharmed, thanking Eywa for sparing all three lives.

“___!”

At the call of her name ___ turned around and felt her eyes water, her mates where ok, despite some dirt and bruises, maybe a couple small scratches. Her yellow orbs saw the Palulukan behind them, dead and being carried off to skin as food.

“Oh thank you great mother! Irayo si!” Neytiri ran faster than Jake, skidding to her side and kissing her head, then turning to Lo’ak and smooching his cheeks “you were hurt, we didn’t really see all that well and thought it was bad. I see now you are fine”

“She’s not fine Neytiri! She’s hurt! What if she and Lo’ak were killed?!” the boy frowned at the mention of his name, he was ok, why was his father angry, mama is alive and ok too. “Boy, what were you doing so far out into the forest? huh?! You were told to stay near to camp!”

Max and Norm glanced at each other, slowly backing away and jogging back to the old hellsgate, this was a fight they did not want to hear.

“Ma Jake, enough” ___ glared, placing her hand against her sons head once again “it was not Lo’ak’s fault”

“Oh? Then who is? You and the baby could have- could have died because of this moron!”

“JAKE!” ___ briskly stood up, softly apologising to the other two children who’s ears where folded at their fathers rage. She turned and faced her mate, anger in her watering eyes, why was he so angry at Lo’ak? Who has done nothing wrong? “This is your son, my baby, he is not an idiot! He was playing with Neteyam and got lost, this is not his fault” tears fell down her cheeks, Neytiri felt her heart break and reached out to wipe them, placing her hand on her mates full stomach. “Lo’ak was brave. He was a warrior today. Why can you not see that?”

Turning around she stalked to their hut in the trees, climbing with the three children at her sides, Lo’ak deciding to walk on his feet again. His mind turned at what his father said, he has never been so angry at him, maybe scolding him sometimes for causing trouble in the lab with Kiri, or when doing pranks with Neteyam, but this? It was new.

Reaching their home their mama walked inside and sat them all down, grabbing Lo’ak’s song cord off his tweng and grabbing a basket full of beads. “Pick one, to show off your bravery prrnen”

“I don’t know if I was that brave today mama…I was scared” He turned his head down and felt his siblings clutch his shoulders, disagreeing.

“You stood up to Palulukan, that is bravery. Being scared does not mean you are not brave little one” Lo’ak sniffed and grinned, feeling his little heart warm at his mama’s words.

“Yea you are the mighty warrior! Who is the mighty warrior?! Lo’ak!” Neteyam cheered, making war cried and throwing his fists in the air. Kiri rolled her eyes and grinned at her brothers, smacking the eldest on the head. ___ chuckled at her children and heard a rustle behind them, deciding to ignore it. Her hand went upon her belly and rubbed.

Lo’ak sifted through the different clay beads, finding a jagged black one and lifting it up “this one”, he then took his song cord and weaved it in, grinning. “This bead symbolises my bravery from a Palulukan”

A cough sounded through the open space, Lo’ak turned to see who was there and instantly his ears folded. ___ immediately knew it was her mate. “Hey…uh can I speak to you…both of you” the man slowly walked in and Neteyam and Kiri scurried out, not wanting to see what was to come. Lo’ak kept his head down, even when his father knelt next to him “Son, I want to apologise. You are not a moron, I should not have called you that. You were brave, protecting your mama when me and your mother could not. I am sorry”

The boy slowly looked up and his eyes watered for what felt like the millionth time today, he didn’t want to show this much weakness, especially not in front of him. Neteyam never did. “It is ok dad”

“No, no it’s not” Jake brought his arms up to wrap around Lo’ak and kissed the top of his head “I promise I will make it up to you…Hey, why don’t we go hunting tomorrow? Hm? Just us two?” his son perked right up, his father rarely had time to hunt with him and his brother anymore, with his duties as clan leader, and with him wanting to go hunt with just Lo’ak and not with Neteyam too…he couldn’t wait to rub it in his brothers face.

Eagerly nodding and shouting his thanks and praises, the boy scurried off, no doubt about to create a spat with his older sibling. ___ smiled a little as she watched him leave, not yet wanting to face Jake just yet but a hand fell atop her own on her tummy “___ please look at me”

She hesitated, “why should I?” she whispered softly “when you called our son an idiot for doing what children do? You hurt him, you hurt me” she turned to face him, ears back, tail swaying behind her.

Jake felt remorse, he never wanted to cause emotional harm to his family, now and ever. “I thought you two were hurt, you three even. If I lost Lo’ak..the baby..I don’t know what I would do with myself” he whispered. “When we heard the roar of the palulukan, we knew what it meant, you were in danger. Me and Neytiri never ran so fast in our life..”

“But that still does not explain you calling him names Jake”

“I was angry, at myself, I should have been the one to find Lo’ak and protect him. You should have been home safe, I took that anger out in those words and I should not have” ___ took his face into her hands and kissed his cheeks, understanding him and his fears. He’s lost so much in his life, his brother, his legs, his friends who fought in the war…

“I see you” she kissed his lips “I see your fears”. Jake felt relieved, he didn’t deserve her or her kindness. The man leant down and smooched her stomach, feeling a kick on his nose, ___ giggled “seems the little one is punishing you”

“I deserve it” he chuckled. He was glad that his family was intact and safe, he would need to put up watches tonight, afraid anything else would happen. But somehow, he knew, this was not the end.

[starlightkun]

❧ word count: 8.8k ❧ warnings: cursing, uh reader gets called like a fantasy slur?, this one really focuses on the concept of ‘othering’ in this society and how it manifests in and around jeno and reader’s werewolf/human relationship ❧ genre: fluff, angst but like from outside sources (see warnings), modern magical creatures au, fantasy au, college au if you squint again, werewolf jeno, human reader, ft. werewolf sungchan, human renjun, and dryad jaemin, same universe as strawberry sunday, sequel to pupsick ❧ extra info: this is a sequel to pupsick! it theoretically could be read as a standalone with minimal confusion but i highly recommend you read pupsick first to see how these two crazy kids got together this work is set in the same universe as strawberry sunday! there is no continuing plotline between fics in this universe (aside from pupsick to this one), they simply take place in the same world/magic system and may have overlapping characters (neos may pop up in more than one work!)

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ explore the strawberry sunday universe more here!

“Welcome!” Renjun smacked the tip of his lecture pointer against his TV screen. You jumped a little at the sound. “To your exclusive History of Werewolf-Human Romance crash course taught by yours truly!”

“Waah!” You yelped as you were quite literally swept off your feet by a pair of strong arms around your waist, and grabbed onto Jeno’s hands. A surprised giggle bubbled out of you. “Pup! You scared the hell out of me.”

“You were too slow.” Jeno clicked his tongue in feigned disappointment, nosing along from behind your ear down your neck. “I win.”

“As usual,” you sighed, reaching up to scratch your fingers along his scalp. The warmth of him holding you was a welcome one against the wintery chill of December that was fully set in around you. “If you didn’t need enrichment, I might lodge a formal complaint about the equity of these games, you know.”

“A formal complaint? With what authority?”

“Jaemin.”

Before your boyfriend could respond, an angry shout came from across the park, drawing your attention. You felt Jeno’s arms tense around you immediately. You spotted your friend that had come with you two, Sungchan, over by the water fountains, in a less than friendly confrontation with another man. From your viewpoint, the stranger was way out of his depth. Sungchan was a head and a half taller than him, not to mention a werewolf.

“The fuck did you just say?” Sungchan pushed the guy, who looked about your age, back by the chest. The other guy didn’t say anything, but didn’t move to back down either. Jeno let you go, but only to put himself between you and the other two, despite the distance that was already there.

“I said, say it again, to my fucking face this time, asshole,” your friend practically snarled at him and stepped forward, his fists clenched and teeth bared.

Jeno looked conflicted about leaving you or helping your friend. But before he had to make a choice, the shorter man turned on his heel and stormed off. Sungchan watched until he was completely off the premises before he rejoined you and Jeno. Your friend’s fists were still clenched in anger, and you noticed a prominent vein on his forehead that wasn’t always there.

“What did that guy say, Sungchan?” You asked him softly. You’d never seen your typically good-natured friend get worked up like that. He was always a rather calming presence, especially in contrast to the other excitable wolf with you.

“It wasn’t just some guy, it was another werewolf,” Jeno informed you, though his focus was also on the taller man.

Sungchan stretched his neck out, letting out a sharp sigh. “Yeah, he was a werewolf. He… he called you a knotslut, Y/N.”

You felt your jaw drop as Jeno immediately spat out, “He fucking what?”

“I can assume that’s not a compliment…” You said quietly, though you’d never heard the word yourself before.

“No, it’s not.” Sungchan crossed his arms, and his features softened as he looked down at you. “It’s an obviously derogatory term for a non-werewolf—usually human, and almost always a woman—who only dates werewolves specifically because of the more wolf-ish aspects of us.”

“Or just any human woman who’s with a werewolf.” Jeno pulled you closer to him with an arm around your waist. “I am so, so sorry Y/N—”

“Jeno, shh, shh. It’s not like you’re the one who called me that.” You waved off his apology. “I just… forget sometimes, that this is still kind of all new. Humans and magical creatures all living together.”

“That doesn’t make it okay for him to have called you that, Y/N,” Sungchan said sternly.

“I didn’t say that it did,” you replied just as firmly. “It was just an unpleasant little reality check, that’s all. Thank you for standing up for me, by the way, Channie.”

“Seriously, dude, thank you,” Jeno echoed your sentiments.

Your friend finally gave a small smile. “Of course. There was no way I was going to sit back and let anybody talk about my friends like that.”

You didn’t like the pensive look that was still on his face, though. “Is there something else bothering you?”

“No, I was just thinking…” He gave you two a sheepish look. “Now don’t get me wrong, I think you two are very cute together, and I truly couldn’t imagine a better match for either of you than the other. But that whole thing that just happened… just really solidified that I think for myself, personally, I’d just rather stick with dating other werewolves. No need to worry about weird werewolf fetishists, and my hypothetical future partner wouldn’t have to worry about dealing with stuff like that. Just a lot simpler, you know?”

You exchanged a look with Jeno. Oh, you two would have a lot more discuss about your thoughts on that later. But for now, to give your friend your lukewarm support.

“Yeah, I mean, you’ve got a couple good points,” you offered politely. “Obviously, I want you stay away from weirdos.”

“But…” Jeno hopped in where you had implicitly left off. “Don’t accidentally swear off happiness in your search for something simple.”

“You sound like a fortune cookie, Jeno,” Sungchan snorted. “I take it back, being in love is rotting your brain.”

“He’d need a brain to rot in the first place.” You gently knocked on your boyfriend’s forehead for emphasis, giggling as he scrunched his eyes and nose.

When Jeno hadn’t made any kind of comeback or retort, the taller werewolf asked incredulously, “Seriously? You don’t have anything to say to that, man?”

“She’s right,” Jeno shrugged and knocked on his own head this time. “I’m just a big dumb pup, remember?”

“You two are insufferable,” Sungchan groaned, looking up at the sky in facetious misery. “Why did I agree to hang out with you guys without a fourth wheel?”

You laughed. “Because you and Jeno wanted to play soccer. And you two have officially worn me out, so why don’t you play while I take a nice long sit on the bench?”

“Fine.”

As you watched Jeno and Sungchan kick a soccer ball back and forth, you hugged your knees to your chest on a bench overlooking the soccer field, glad that it hadn’t snowed lately so your butt was staying dry. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you took it out to see who was calling.

“Hey, Renjun,” you answered brightly.

“Hey, Y/N. Are you guys still at the park?” Your friend asked, and you could distantly hear the sound of his footsteps echoing behind him. You’d sent a blanket invite out to several of your friends for this afternoon, but Sungchan had been the only one that was able to make it initially.

“Yeah. The guys are playing soccer. I’m taking a break.”

“Do you think you’ll be there much longer? I finished up my essay early so I figured I could join you.”

Oh, he must be in the parking garage on campus.

“Of course! Channie was just complaining about third-wheeling alone anyway.”

“What were you and Jeno doing?”

“Long story, I’ll tell you when you get here.”

“Oh great,” he said sarcastically. “I’ll be there in ten.”

“See you, Renjun!”

“Bye.”

“So Renjun’s coming?” Jeno called out, holding a hand up to cast a shadow over his eyes.

You nodded, knowing that Jeno had only been able to parse out your half of the conversation from the distance he was at. “Yeah, he said he’ll be about ten minutes.”

Your boyfriend gave you a thumbs up before turning back around just in time to avoid a ball that Sungchan had kicked right at his head. “Dude!”

“Like I said! Being in love’s rotting your brain, Lee Jeno!” Sungchan yelled back, throwing his hands up in a grand ‘I-don’t-know’ gesture. “And your reflexes!”

“And I’m telling you, I don’t got a brain to rot, Jung Sungchan!” Jeno jogged after the soccer ball, lining up to kick it in an impressive arc back to the other werewolf.

Renjun showed up fifteen minutes later and plopped down on the bench beside you with a zealous huff. You didn’t even need to ask what happened.

“God, half the morons at our college don’t know how to drive!” He stretched his arms over the back of the bench, rolling his neck out. “And the other half are just jumping into traffic willy-nilly like they’re trying to get ran over or something!”

“Deep breath, Renjun, deep breath.” You patted him on the shoulder.

“As soon as I graduate, I’ll take the biggest, deepest beath of my life, I promise.”

“And until then?”

“Until then, I’m white-knuckling the steering wheel with one hand and laying on the horn with the other.”

You laughed heartily. “That’s one way to go about it I guess.”

“But how are you doing, Y/N?”

“Oh, fine. Something kind of… weird, I guess, happened earlier, though.”

“Weird?”

You squinted your eyes at the two werewolves now at the opposite end of the soccer field as before, trying to guesstimate if that was enough distance for your conversation to not be picked up by their superhuman hearing. To be safe, you leaned in towards your human friend and lowered your voice.

“There was this other werewolf here, and he said something about me and Jeno.” You admitted.

Renjun tilted his head curiously. “Said what?”

“Well, more specifically, he called me a-a knotslut?” The word felt unfamiliar in your mouth, and left a bitter taste on your tongue. Your lip curled unpleasantly at the memory it brought up.

His eyes widened as he looked around in alarm, then dropped his own voice to a whisper, “So where’s the body? Because there’s no way Jeno would’ve let someone that called you that leave alive.”

“Jeno wasn’t the one who heard him say it,” you clarified. “Sungchan did. Jeno and I were busy goofing off. Channie had gone to refill his water by the bathrooms and apparently the guy said it over there by him.”

“He probably thought that Sungchan was going to agree with him.”

“Must’ve been a shock for him when Sungchan almost bashed his face in himself.”

Renjun burst out in a full-bodied laugh. “Oh, I’m sure it was.”

“But, I want to ask you something, Renjun. Since you’re here.” You turned on the bench to fully face your human friend.

“Sure, what’s up?”

“You’re a Magical Creatures Studies major. Me and Jeno… it’s not that weird, right? Like, new, I mean? There’s got to be more of a history to humans and magical beings being together than six months ago.”

“Oh there absolutely is!” Renjun’s eyes sparkled as he straightened up in his seat. “I’m actually finishing up a class on Interspecies Marriage right now! Did you know that the earliest written record we have of a traditional werewolf mating ritual between a human and werewolf is nearly two thousand years old?”

“Wait, really?” You weren’t expecting that much precedent. Maybe a couple hundred years, not a couple thousand.

“Yeah! And as for how we would conventionally think of marriage today between a human and werewolf, that still goes back at least 800 years for official written historical records. And that’s just written. There’s oral traditions of entire packs that were equal parts human and werewolf that are much, much older with archaeological evidence to back it up.”

“Archaeological? Like, bones?”

“Well, yeah. But also artifacts of their villages. Things that—”

A movement in the periphery of your eye made you whip your head up to look back at the field. Jeno and Sungchan were leisurely walking over towards you two, the former carrying the soccer ball. You smacked Renjun’s knee to shut him up as quickly as possible. Offended, he seemed to nevertheless get the idea, thankfully, and stopped his never-ending stream of facts.

You smiled up at the two werewolves as they stopped beside you two. “Done already?”

“Just coming to say hey to Renjun,” Jeno informed you as Sungchan grabbed a bag that was next to the bench.

“Hey, guys,” Renjun greeted them.

Sungchan fetched a couple water bottles that were inside, tossing one to Jeno, who caught it one-handed. He then set the soccer ball down by his feet to twist the bottle open.

“And hydrate,” the taller wolf added.

The human rolled his eyes. “Oh. I feel so special now.”

“You guys want to join?” Jeno offered, using his shirt to dab at a bead of sweat on his forehead with the hem. You shamelessly watched his movements. “We can do teams now that we’ve got even numbers.”

“Yeah, werewolves versus humans,” Sungchan suggested with a grin.

“Only if you guys hop on one leg with your hands tied behind your back,” you retorted.

“How are we supposed to kick the ball like that?”

“You can figure it out with your big, non-rotted, pristine brain, Channie. I believe in you.”

“Well not if I’ve got Mr. Fortune Cookie over here making heart eyes at you the whole time.” Sungchan jabbed a thumb in Jeno’s direction, and when you looked over at him, he was already looking at you.

“I’m sorry, I thought you wanted me on your team?” Jeno rounded on him indignantly.

Sungchan shrugged as he finished the rest of his water. “Like you’ll really try if it’s against Y/N.”

Your boyfriend rolled his eyes, but didn’t do anything to dispute the claim. “Fine, then you’re taking Renjun?”

“No. I’m taking Y/N, obviously.”

As you and Sungchan walked out to your own side of the field, you studied him suspiciously.

“Why did you want me on your team?” You asked him, soccer ball in your hands this time. “If you think Jeno and I are too lovey-dovey to compete against each other?”

“Well I took your advice, and I thought about it with my huge, smart, peak condition brain—”

You couldn’t help but laugh in his face at his phrasing, to which he snickered as well.

“—and I figured that even if you don’t give it 110%, you’re still better than Renjun. So not only is Jeno not going to be doing good himself because he’s competing against you, but his teammate kind of sucks too.”

“Ohh, I got you,” you nodded along, which slowly turned into a disbelieving head shake. “I think we need to set you up with someone. You’re too smart for everyone else’s good, your brain’s in need of a little rotting.”

Sungchan turned to you then, squaring his shoulders. “I’ll make you a deal.”

“Hmm, since you’re not a fairy, I’ll hear you out. The terms?”

“If we win and I’m convinced that you actually gave your best against Jeno… then you can set me up on one date.”

“You’re agreeing to a blind date?”

“One.”

“With anybody of my choosing? You won’t back out no matter what they are?”

“I can’t back out of it.”

“And you have to put in an earnest effort, too. You can’t intentionally sabotage it.”

“I can’t back out of it, and I can’t intentionally sabotage it.”

You stuck a hand out to him. “Deal.”

Sungchan took your chilly hand, shaking it with his perpetually warm one. “Deal.”

God you were exhausted. Your legs burned, your eyes were watering from the cold wind, and you sucked in breath after breath of air that nipped at your lungs and seemed to hurt as much as it helped. But finally, someone declared the game over, and that you and Sungchan had won.

You let out an unintelligible, guttural grunt of victory, plopping yourself down onto the grass exactly where you were standing and pumping your fists up into the air from the ground instead. Sungchan jogged up to you, bright grin on his features as he held a hand down to you for a high-five.

“That was awesome, Y/N!” Your teammate celebrated as you weakly slapped your hand down against his. “I told you you were better than Renjun!”

“What? Why was disparaging me even part of your pep talks?” Renjun yelled from afar, tossing his hands up in the air in equal parts bewilderment and offense.

“Y/N!” Jeno ran up to you, skidding to his knees on the ground beside you to throw his arms around you. “Good job! Seriously, you did so good out there! Your passing got better and—”

“See? He’s happier that you won than if he had won.” Sungchan gestured to your boyfriend pointedly.

Through a tired smile, you pecked Jeno on the cheek. “Thanks, pup. You did great, too.”

Then, you turned your focus to the other werewolf still standing above the two of you, the smile dropping from your face. You pointed at him knowingly. “Consider my end of the deal fulfilled now, Jung.”

Sungchan crossed his arms over his chest, not seeming very happy about this, but he didn’t argue. “Fine. Later, okay?”

“Fine…” You gracefully dropped the subject at the moment. After all, you needed time to carefully consider. So for now, you wrapped your arms around Jeno and laughed as he kissed your cheek back two times.

“Hey, what were you and Sungchan talking about, by the way?” Jeno asked as he came into the living room with his after-dinner snack. You were staying at his place tonight to continue binging a show that you, Jeno, and Jaemin had started together.

“When?” You lifted up one side of the fluffy blanket that was on your lap for him to sit down under. Once he had, you immediately scooted closer to rest your head against his shoulder. When he was done eating, he would be the one snuggling up to you like usual, but for now, he did unfortunately have to attend to his inhuman metabolism.

“After we all played soccer. Some deal?”

“Oh, oh, oh!” You sat up straight, excited now. Looking at both Jeno, and Jaemin, who was stretched out on his own couch on the other side of the living room, you announced excitedly, “Sungchan’s letting me set him up on a date.”

“What?” “Seriously?” They blurted out at the same time.

“Yup. The deal was that if I gave 110% in the soccer game against Jeno, and Sungchan and I won, then he’d let me set him up on exactly one date.” You confirmed with a devilish hand rub.

Jeno scrunched his nose up. “How many werewolves do you know, Y/N? I guess I might know some from my pack back home that are nice…”

“That’s the best part. He can’t back out of it or self-sabotage no matter who it is, or what they are. So it doesn’t have to be a werewolf.”

Your boyfriend caught your eye, and you knew that the two of you were thinking the exact same thing. “Oh…”

“Yeah…”

“Hey!” Jaemin snapped his fingers to get your attention. Once you both were looking over at him, despite the fond smile on his face, he made a show of rolling his eyes as he grumbled, “I hate when you two do that. Mind filling me in?”

“Channie’s apparently got this thing about only wanting to date werewolves because it’s easier,” you explained. “You know, no worrying about weirdos who date werewolves because they’re werewolves.”

“And he claims that it’s just not worth any possible… harassment,” Jeno added. He’d apparently polished off his snack while you and Jaemin were speaking, because with two free hands, he pulled you closer to him again, pressing a kiss to your temple. “And after today, I kind of understand why.”

“Jeno, don’t talk like that,” you replied firmly, feeling a lump grow in your throat.

“I don’t agree with him, but I understand him. You don’t want the person you’re in love with to go through something like that. I want to be able to do something to make sure you never have to have someone treat you like that ever again, Y/N. But not if it’s not being with you. That… that doesn’t feel right to me.”

You laced your fingers with the hand of the arm he had around your shoulders, wrapping him even tighter around you. “Of course it doesn’t. Because it’s not right. And you’re not going to do something so stupid, Lee Jeno.”

“I know,” he squeezed your hand.

After a beat of quiet, Jaemin spoke up softly, “Will you… tell me what happened?”

“There was another werewolf at the park today. He called Y/N something awful.”

“What…?”

Figuring it might not be a good idea to say it again around Jeno, especially since your boyfriend apparently couldn’t bring himself to say it either, you jumped in, “Remember how we were just talking about people who only date werewolves because they’re werewolves?”

Jaemin’s face changed from confusion to recognition, then sympathy. “Oh, that’s horrible. I’m sorry, Y/N. That must have been terrible.”

“I’m okay, Jaemin. Thanks.” You smiled encouragingly to your friend. “Now, are we watching the show or…?”

“Yeah, yeah!” The dryad reached for the remote to select your show.

Later, once everyone had retired to bed for the night, you were staring up at the ceiling of Jeno’s bedroom, a discontented frown on your face. Your boyfriend exited the bathroom, flicking the light off behind him and flopping face-first onto his side of the bed. With no hesitation, he rolled over until he could rest his head on your middle. Except you didn’t move your fingers that had been laced together over your stomach as you stewed in your moody thoughts.

A comically confused sound came from Jeno at the unexpected barrier between him and his favorite pillow. And when you still didn’t move them, he lifted his head up to be able to look at you. “Y/N? Baby?”

“Hm?” You finally looked down at him, and registered the weight on your abdomen. You unlaced your hands and lifted them to make room. “Oh, sorry, Jeno. I was thinking.”

“About?” He prompted you as he settled in for his nearly nightly head scratches and rubs (they were only missed on the nights that you didn’t spend together). Your fingers began their habitual carding through his hair one way, then scratching gently along his scalp back the other way.

“When you said you understand Sungchan—”

“Y/N, I said—”

“Please let me finish.”

“You’re right, sorry. Go ahead.”

You sighed, keeping one hand in his hair and trailing the other down to caress his forehead, cheekbone, jaw, then tilted his chin up so he was looking at you.

“You’re both looking at it wrong,” you affirmed, holding his gaze steadily. “You don’t control other people’s actions solely by existing. That guy didn’t call me that today because I’m a human or because you’re a werewolf or because he heard me call you ‘pup’ or any litany of things about you and me. He said it because there’s something wrong with him. He said it because for some reason he just couldn’t imagine any scenario where you and I were simply just happy. And I for the life of me cannot bring myself to give a shit about pleasing people like him. So yes, while I do wish that you would encounter as little strife and hurt and injustice in your life as possible, Jeno, because I love you, I don’t believe for a second that any of it is caused by me loving you. I think that when things like this do happen, it’s caused by other people’s hate.”

Jeno’s throat bobbed up and down as he swallowed, and he slowly nodded, his eyes not leaving yours. His hand came up to cup yours that was cradling his face, his thumb gently rubbing over the backs of your knuckles. You leaned down to press your forehead to his, brushing your noses together.

“Welcome!” Renjun smacked the tip of his lecture pointer against his TV screen. You jumped a little at the sound. “To your exclusive History of Werewolf-Human Romance crash course taught by yours truly!”

Now that the fall semester and finals week were over, you were over at Renjun’s place. You had asked him if you could finish your conversation that you were having at the park about werewolves and humans. And truly, you don’t know why you had thought that you two would just grab coffee or something. You shouldn’t have expected anything less than a full-blown PowerPoint presentation from your friend who practically lived, breathed, ate, and slept Magical Creatures Studies.

“Did you just have that laying around?” You asked, referring to the pointer in his hand.

“Yes of course.”

“Of course,” you echoed humorously as you reclined into your seat on his couch. “Anyway, go for it, Renjun. I’m all ears.”

“Okay, so—” He pressed the spacebar on his laptop that was projecting to the TV. The first slide popped up. “Archaeological data. This is where we left off in our conversation. Entire packs have been found that were half human and half werewolf—”

You raised your hand. “Excuse me? Professor Huang?”

“Yes?” He called on you, having fully slipped into his role as lecturer.

“When you say the packs were half human, half werewolf, what do you mean? Like the population statistics were 50% humans and 50% werewolves? Or the individuals themselves were half-and-half genetically?”

“The former. These packs were integrated evenly with humans and werewolves.”

“And you’re saying ‘packs’ specifically. Not villages, or societies, or groups. Why?”

“From what we’ve been able to gather bout how they lived from the artifacts left behind, it seems their social structure more closely mirrored the customs and habits of werewolves than the humans that lived in that same area at the time.”

“So the humans that were in the pack adopted werewolf culture?”

“You’re getting ahead of me,” Renjun beamed at you. “You’re a very perceptive student.”

“Oh. Go ahead, Professor Huang.” You gave him a humble seated bow to proceed with the slide he was on.

“So, the archaeological data itself that was found was, like you said, bones, obviously, but also pots, stone tools, trinkets, even children’s toys or bits of clothing have been found.” He clicked to the next slide. There were pictures of some of the objects he’d mentioned, and a couple more. “This is where it gets interesting. Even if we hadn’t found any human skeletons, we would’ve known that humans had lived there because there were human tools found. Tools that werewolves didn’t need. Like knives to cut their food into bite-sized pieces, and jars that have residue from medicine that we know was used to treat diseases communicable among humans but not werewolves.”

“Wow.”

Next slide. This one had a picture of some objects on one side, pieces of worn leather, smooth colorful stones, and on the other side, a drawing of two necklaces, with matching opalescent stones wrapped securely in them.

“On the left—” he smacked said side with the pointer. “—are the pieces of two leather necklaces that were found with a pair of skeletons that were buried together. The right—” smack “—is an artist’s rendition of what the necklaces most likely looked like originally.”

“They’re beautiful.”

“Werewolves will traditionally bury mates together.”

“Like human couples who buy a plot of land in a cemetery big enough for the both of them before they pass.” You nodded.

“Exactly. This specific pack wasn’t 50/50 werewolves and humans we think. From what we’ve been able to parse out, it was more 80/20, with more werewolves. But they still buried werewolf-human couples together with all the same rites as werewolf couples. This pair right here was a werewolf-human couple.”

You smiled up at the image on-screen, feeling the familiarity of them reach across time to you in that moment. “And the necklaces?”

“It was sort of like a wedding ring-slash-mating claim fusion.” Renjun tapped the two necklaces with zeal again. You were starting to get a little afraid that he was going to damage his TV. “You were asking if the humans in these packs adopted werewolf culture, right? For the most part, yes, they did. They took on all of the werewolves’ culture as their own as far as we can tell. And what they couldn’t do, like eating raw meat, they adapted so they could. Obviously, day to day meals, they’d cook with heat. But many culturally important events held significance in the rawness of the food, so the humans would cure meat in salt ahead of time so they could safely consume it for those instances.”

“What sort of events?”

“The celebration of the solstices, uh mating rituals, burials, any number of things most likely involved the consumption of specifically raw meat as part of the tradition. It was an important staple of the werewolf diet, hence why Jeno has to slam down those protein bars now.”

You chuckled a little bit, able to perfectly picture your boyfriend’s shelf in his pantry that was taken up by boxes upon boxes of protein bars specifically formulated for werewolves. “Ah, yes, the ancestral chocolate peanut butter flavored protein bars.”

“And now you know the important cultural significance of them.” Your friend sighed wistfully, then switched back into his lecture-mode. “Back to the necklaces. So while the humans largely assimilated into werewolf culture, they also introduced a few things of their own. Typically, when two werewolves mate for life, it’s a whole biting and scenting thing and bam— every wolf in a hundred-mile radius gets the message. But human noses and teeth aren’t exactly up to par for that, right?”

“…Right.”

“So these pairs did both.”

“Both?”

“Again, extrapolation, and oral tradition.” Renjun qualified his explanation as he quickly clicked to the next slide, which had bullet points for what he was now laying out to you. “Unlike a normal wound, a werewolf’s mating bite would heal quickly and had no risk of infection, even for a human. But a human couldn’t do that back to the werewolf, and the human can’t really smell that much of a difference. But handmade, matching necklaces with a precious stone? Now that’s something everyone can see and understand.”

You nodded, “Yeah, okay. I get it. You want to make sure that both of you feel honored and loved in however that manifests for each of you, and obviously you want your partner to express their love for you in whatever way feels the most genuine and powerful.”

“Uh… yeah…” Renjun gave you a strange look. “I mean, in the field we look at it as a fascinating example of the blending of different cultures but-but that’s… cool… too…”

You gave him an unamused look before gesturing to the screen and to the left. “Can you go back one?”

He obliged, and you pointed at pictures. “What stone is that? Do you know?”

“Do I know what kind of stone it is?” He scoffed mockingly. “Of course I do, it’s moonstone.”

“Helps werewolves have more control over and less pain through their shift on the full moon.” You smiled as you recognized exactly why the human had chosen it all those years ago. “A perfect choice for the necklace that you intend for your werewolf lover to never take off.”

Your friend put a hand over his heart, looking at you with delight. “I knew you’d like that one. God, I almost don’t want to tell you about the werewolf brothels of the 1600s now.”

“The what?!”

Leaving Renjun’s apartment you were a changed person, but overall better, and now equipped with a lot of useful and important information. Quickly dialing up a contact on your phone, you listened to the line ring one, two times before it was picked up.

“Hey, Y/N!” Jaemin greeted you enthusiastically.

“Hey, Jaemin!” You turned a corner, your destination already in mind. “Are you home?”

“Yeah, Jeno’s at the gym right now but he should be back soon if you want to come over.”

“Actually, I wanted to ask if you wanted to go shopping? With me?”

“So why doesn’t Jeno have any moonstone?” You asked Jaemin as the two of you meandered down the aisles of one of the apothecaries in town. “It seems like something that every werewolf should just be stocked up on.”

Jaemin delicately inspected a few live herbs that were growing in small pots on a windowsill. “Jeno’s… weird about his shifting.”

“Weird how?”

“He doesn’t want anything that’ll make the process like, comfortable at all? For some reason.”

You looked back at him in disbelief. “Jeno? Lee Jeno? We’re talking about the same man who turns into the most pitiful oversized puppy I’ve ever seen when he gets an upset tummy? He wants to unnecessarily suffer once a month, every month?”

The dryad shrugged, “I don’t know what to tell you. I’ve tried to convince him to get some moonstone or at least let me make him a tonic to take beforehand, but I’m sure you know by now how stubborn he can get.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, chewing on your bottom lip. It seemed like your errand was going to be futile.

Sensing your shift in mood, your friend patted your shoulder reassuringly. “I think you’ll have much better luck, Y/N. If there’s one thing that he’s more stubborn about than anything else, it’s how much he loves you.”

“Thanks, Jaemin.”

That apothecary ended up being a bust for moonstone (though Jaemin did rescue a couple new plants that he deemed weren’t being taken of well enough), and you had to head off to the bakery right after that, no time to check out any others that were around.

“Hey, Minseok,” you gave your boss a rather unenthusiastic greeting as you wrapped your apron around you and washed up in the sink.

The sphinx was surprisingly in the back with his own apron on, and not in the office. Whoever was on shift in the kitchen that afternoon must have had to call out today. You just had to come in to prep the doughs and starters that needed to ferment overnight.

“Y/N, good evening,” he waved at you as he packed up a few empty trays. “How are you?”

“Ehh, fine.” You started taking down clean mixing bowls. “And no, I really don’t feel like expounding on that.”

Minseok held his hands up in an easy surrender. “That’s fair. But uh, I feel the need to ask… everything okay with you and Jeno?”

“What? Yeah, yeah,” you reassured him. “Don’t worry, tomorrow’s opening shift is safe.”

“That’s reassuring, but not really why I was asking.” He caught your eye knowingly. Of course, he really did just care.

You nodded, “Thanks, Minseok.”

“Anyway, I didn’t get to do any of my admin work today so—” He untied his apron and hung it on a hook. “Looks like it’s you and me for post-closing tonight.”

“What a party. Me shaping a bunch of loaves of bread and you making Excel spreadsheets.”

Sat on Jeno’s bed that night, you let your head fall forward as his warm hands worked at the muscles of your shoulders and neck.

“God, Y/N, did you not use proper kneading form or whatever bakers do?” He chastised you half-jokingly, thumb finding another knot by your shoulder blade. “How did you get this messed up after one short post-closing shift at the bakery? Did Mr. Minseok put you on a dough hook in one of the mixers or something?”

“That actually kind of sounds like it’d feel good at this point.” Your laugh turned into a groan as he had finally loosened up one area of tightness, then moved onto another.

“Seriously, maybe you should look into some orthopedic footwear or something.”

“My shoes were plenty sensible. I was just too tense today, that’s all.”

“Something on your mind?” Jeno continued massaging as you slowly rolled out your shoulders and neck.

“Yeah…”

“Is it whatever you’ve been scheming up with Renjun and Jaemin?”

You whipped your head around to look at him, wincing as you just undid pretty much everything Jeno had just fixed in your neck. “Ow…”

Your boyfriend sighed, gently turned your head back around, and brought his fingers to the sides of your neck. He gently massaged the pain away again as he kept talking. “I’ll let you keep scheming, baby, but if you want to tell me, I’m all ears. Especially if it’ll keep your occupational hazards to a minimum.”

Now mostly pain free once more, you slowly reached forward for your laptop that was at the foot of the bed, Jeno’s hands falling from your neck to your hips as you did so.

“I want to show you something, pup,” you declared, opening the computer up.

“Okay,” he agreed in a sing-song voice, scooting back to sit against multitude of pillows, bringing you with him.

As Jeno hooked his chin over your shoulder to watch what you were doing, you pulled up a new tab on your computer to do a quick search. You already knew the image that Renjun had showed you earlier was available online; you’d found it when you were explaining your idea to Jaemin at the apothecary. Jeno made a small bewildered ‘hm?’ noise as you typed in “werewolf human burial necklaces,” but ultimately stayed quiet as dozens of academic articles immediately popped up, along with the image of the two sets of remains beside each other, the pieces of the jewelry among them. You clicked on the picture to make it full screen.

“So these—” you pointed to the two skeletons “—are a mated pair from over a thousand years ago, a werewolf and a human. Their pack buried them together just like any other mates.”

“Aw,” Jeno kissed your cheek. “It’s us a thousand years ago.”

You smiled to yourself at that, reaching up to scratch his head approvingly before focusing back on the picture again.

“And they also had these necklaces, with matching moonstones.” You tapped the screen again to draw attention to the gems.

“That’s beautiful, Y/N.” He nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck. “Thank you for showing me this. Really.”

“Jeno…” You twisted to be able to see his face. “Why don’t you have any moonstone?”

You felt him breathe in and back out against your skin, and let him take as long as he needed to gather his thoughts. After a few moments, he sat up straight again, a thoughtful look on his face.

“It’s... kind of hard to explain. But it always felt like, I don’t know, a crutch? Like, I shouldn’t need it?”

“What?” You couldn’t keep the confusion from your voice.

“Saying that out loud, I’m realizing how uh, dumb that is now,” he chuckled sheepishly. “I sort of thought that werewolves before me always went through their shifts without any stuff like that just fine, so why should I need it?”

“Jeno, you realize that sounds like if I said that humans two thousand years ago survived just fine before the discovery of penicillin, so I shouldn’t go to the doctor for antibiotics when I get sick? Right?”

“Y-Yeah...” He grimaced. “Besides, I was wrong about werewolves of the past not using moonstone, clearly.”

He gestured to the picture on your laptop screen, and let out another sigh. “I just wish I knew how we got from packs burying werewolf-human mates together with matching moonstone necklaces to... where we are now.”

“Oh, Renjun has a PowerPoint on it if you really want to know.”

“That’s what you two were doing today? For three hours?”

“Yep.”

“I’ll pass.” He wrinkled his nose. “I think I’ve got a much better teacher right here anyway.”

“This was the first three slides, you know? Bold of you to assume I retained anything else Renjun said after.”

Jeno’s eyes crinkled as he laughed. “That’s fair.”

“So...” You pushed the laptop forward again, then rested your hands over his that were wrapped around your waist. “Will you get some moonstone? I hate to think that you’re suffering every month when you don’t need to.”

“On one condition.”

“And what’s that?”

“We get a matching set.”

You nodded, a soft smile spreading across your face. “Okay. Yes.”

Jeno’s grin was blinding, but you only saw a glimpse of it before you were fully twisting around to throw your arms around his neck. He let you tackle him back into the pillows, pulling you down with him. You laughed as you landed on top of him, his arms holding you tight. You took this as your opportunity to pepper his face with kisses as he always did to you, across his cheeks, and nose, and forehead, until you had a sufficiently giggly werewolf beneath you.

“You were right,” he murmured, the bright grin not falling from his face, but morphing instead into a tender smile as he looked up at you, bringing one hand up to caress your cheek.

“I know I was,” you teased, turning your head to peck the palm of his hand, then turned it back to lean into his touch. “But I have no clue what you’re talking about specifically.”

“Love isn’t pain. It’s what stops the hurting.”

His words went right to your heart, and you could only bite down on your lip and nod so as to not burst into tears then and there. Jeno wrapped both his arms around you again, rolling the two of you onto your sides and tucking you under his chin. You pressed your face into his shirt, basking in how warm and secure and loved you felt and knew you were in that moment. And that Jeno knew he was too. The fact that he knew, he finally got it, and was letting you two put it into practice in your lives, too. Your life, together.

Oh, yep, you were crying. But they were happy tears, loving, loved tears. You were feeling with every fiber of your being.

You breathed in deeply, breathed Jeno in deeply. Being a werewolf, his sense of smell was sensitive, so he didn’t use heavily perfumed products, nor wore any colognes or perfumes himself. So you could just smell clean, fresh Jeno. And he, oh so cleverly, smelled like home, like safety, like love.

When you finally looked up at your boyfriend, he looked down at you so lovingly, you felt another round of tears welling up already. But you held them back just long enough to tenderly brush a stray piece of hair from his forehead, and whisper into the quiet of the night, “I love you, Lee Jeno.”

He pressed a long kiss to your forehead, then murmured back, “I love you too, Y/L/N Y/N.”

Unlocking the back door to Half Moon Bakery the next morning, you flicked the lights on and led the way in with a skip in your step. Jeno trailed in behind you still rubbing sleep out of his eyes. Yeah, he was never going to be a morning wolf, especially when he now insisted on accompanying you when you went in at 4 a.m. to do the pre-opening kitchen prep, instead of coming in for the front opening at 6 a.m. like he used to. You secured your apron around your waist, put on your music, washed your hands, and got to work.

While it was more tiring to have back-to-back post-closing and opening shifts, you tended to prefer being able to bake your own doughs and loaves that you prepared the night before rather than ones that someone else had done. Not that you were necessarily a perfectionist or elitest about it (okay maybe a little bit that), but it was always satisfying to see the end product of something that you had started. To work on something from start to finish.

You hadn’t kept track of time, nor even of where your boyfriend was, until Jeno popped his head into the kitchen—you admittedly hadn’t realized he’d left it—to announce, “T-minus ten minutes until opening.”

“Got it, thanks, baby,” you smiled up at him, hands preoccupied with dusting powdered sugar over some pastries.

When you came to a stopping point with that task, you went to pause your own music, and could finally hear Jeno’s floating in from the front. You took joy in the small delight of Jeno’s voice being carried back too as he conversed with customers, smiling to yourself when you could hear his voice pitch up if he got particularly excited about whatever they were talking about, or drop with confusion as he would ask a customer to repeat an order that either didn’t make sense or he didn’t hear.

As you carried out a tray of cream-filled croissants—matcha flavored and strawberry flavored—you kept your eyes focused on your destination, the display case of pastries up by the register. You knew that these were a popular item, and usually worked to refill them first. There were only two matcha ones and a strawberry left, so it looks like you brought out a fresh batch just in the nick of time.

“Ah, perfect timing, Y/N!” Jeno’s voice made you stop dead in your tracks as you were setting the fresh tray on top of the case and were about to grab the old one.

You stood up straight, looking over at him in alarm. Three young kids, a dryad boy, human boy, and phoenix girl were at the register, barely big enough to see over the counter, accompanied by who you guessed to be the phoenix’s father.

“Hello,” you nodded to them politely, then looked to Jeno for an explanation. “Is something wrong, Jeno?”

“Y/N here is our baker, she makes all the delicious treats you guys eat,” Jeno said to the kids. “Including those brownies you loved so much.”

The adult phoenix spoke up, addressing you, “They loved the limited-edition peanut butter brownies you all had in the summer. They come in and beg poor Jeno here for them almost every day. I’ve tried to explain what limited-edition means to them, but...” He trailed off, giving you a sheepish shrug.

“They were sooo good!” The phoenix exclaimed, clutching her stomach dramatically.

“Why did you take them away?” The dryad asked curiously, a slight pout on his face that matched that of the toad perched on his shoulder.

“Is it ‘cause nobody was eating them? ‘Cause we’ll come eat all of them!” The human gestured to the three kids.

You chuckled, “It makes me really happy that you guys liked them so much. Thank you.”

“I beg her to bring them back all the time too, guys. Never works...” Jeno sighed melodramatically, and you elbowed him in the side.

“I literally made you some last week,” you said to him under your breath through gritted teeth. “Spoiled…”

Your boyfriend simply smiled at you innocently, and you turned your focus back to the children.

“Since I know they were so popular, I will see what I can do, okay?” You told them.

They erupted into cheers, and you found yourself grinning too, feeling your heart warmed to see so much happiness just from your baking. You finished swapping out the trays of croissants as Jeno rang up their order, then you disappeared back into the safety and quiet of the kitchens.

Minseok, whose initial appearance a few hours ago let you know it was 8 a.m., left his office then, grabbing an apron hanging on one of the hooks along the wall.

“Filling in again?” You asked him curiously, taking a fresh pan of bread out of the oven. Must be 11:00 already.

“Johnny called in sick. Or, his roommate called in sick for him. Apparently he accidentally petrified the poor guy,” your boss sighed, washing up in the sink. “He was trying to tell me the petrification usually only lasts ten to thirty minutes so Johnny would be late, but I just told him Johnny could have the day off. Sounds like he’s going to need it.”

You winced sympathetically. Poor Johnny. Mark, Johnny’s roommate, was a friend of Jeno’s, so you were keenly aware of the basilisk’s struggles with his recently developed powers; and Johnny was a new part-time hire at Half Moon, so you had gotten to know the human and had heard from him some of the unfortunate happenstances the two roommates would find themselves in as well. Johnny was at least usually in good spirits about it and seemed to find them funny most of the time.

“Mark’s trying his best…” You tried to put up a lukewarm defense of your boyfriend’s friend.

“I’d appreciate it if he tried a little harder not to petrify my employees.”

You didn’t have a good comeback, and so with that, Minseok took a tray of half-moon dipped cookies that were ready to go into the front with him. Jeno popped back in just a couple minutes later with the empty tray, already snickering.

“It’s not funny,” you pointed at him, warning in your tone. You knew what he was laughing at, surely having asked Minseok why he was working up front today.

“It’s a little funny,” he argued.

“No it’s not.”

“Come on, I bet Johnny thinks it’s funny.”

“And I’m sure Mark is mortified and hates his life right now.”

“Yeah, that’s kind of Mark’s general state of existence,” Jeno pointed out, meandering around the kitchen towards you.

You turned around to face him as he came up behind you, crossing your arms over your chest. “Be nice, pup.”

“Mmm, I’ll consider it,” he teased, standing in front of you and crossing his arms to mimic you. “Why?”

“If you don’t, I won’t ask Minseok if we can bring back the limited-edition peanut butter cup brownie.”

Jeno narrowed his eyes. “You wouldn’t disappoint those little kids just to teach me a lesson.”

“And, I won’t give you the peanut butter cookie discard I saved you from earlier.”

You saw his face perk up at that. His eyes glanced around the kitchen countertops searching for it. “You saved me one?”

“Well not if you’re going to be mean. I’ll just give it to Mark, sounds like he needs a pick-me-up right now a lot more than you.”

“Okay fine it’s not funny! It’s so unfunny! I definitely didn’t dribble water all over myself when Mr. Minseok told me because I laughed and choked because it was so funny. Because it’s not funny! I promise!” Jeno pleaded with you, uncrossing his arms and grabbing your shoulders desperately. It was then that you could see that the front of his shirt and apron did in fact have wet marks on them.

You rolled your eyes as you reached out to touch the damp material. “Jeno, seriously?”

“That was before I learned that it wasn’t funny! I’m sorry!”

“Is this why you came back here? To get a new apron?” You surmised, already knowing the answer by the nervous little smile you got in response.

“And return the empty pan and see my beautiful girlfriend that I love so much,” he added, which admittedly, did make you smile fondly as you pulled him over towards the sink by his forearm.

You held out a hand expectantly. “Apron.”

He untied the garment and handed it to you, and you went to swap it for one of the spare ones. Hopefully it would be mostly dry by the time you two left so you could just take it with you and toss it in the laundry when you got home. Jeno had taken a couple paper towels to the worst patches of his shirt, but unfortunately, it was grey, so he was just going to have to look like someone who didn’t know how to drink water for as long as it took to dry.

“Here.” You handed him the fresh apron, accepting the used paper towels in return to toss out for him.

“Thank you.”

“Honestly, how did you survive this long without me, Lee Jeno?” You clicked your tongue in feigned disappointment as you watched him put his apron on, leaning against the counter with your hip.

“Says the girl with strawberry frosting on her face,” he shot back smugly.

“What? Where?” You squeaked, looking around for a napkin.

But Jeno was already grabbing a paper towel, and held it under the persistent drip of the faucet that Minseok couldn’t seem to keep fixed. He grabbed your chin, leaned in close, and gently wiped the damp napkin over a spot on your cheek.

“Right there,” he murmured.

You looked into his big, brown, heart-stopping eyes for just a second before surging forward to close the short distance between your mouths. He smiled into the kiss, the paper towel falling from your cheek as he then gave you one, two more short pecks before pulling back.

Jeno was still holding your chin and pinched it in between his fingers affectionately as he looked at you with his adorable eye smile. “Alright, unfortunately, if I’m back here any longer, Mr. Minseok will come looking for me.”

“I suppose I’ll let you get back to work, then,” you sighed facetiously, grabbing the hand that was on your face and giving it a squeeze before letting it go.

“Yeah, you’re too much of a distraction back here, you know.”

“Shut up and go work, Jeno.”

⤷ blog masterlist  ⤷ anthology masterlist

[glassrowboat]

Orange Ribbon. Itto.

Summary: Dressing up animals is therapeutic, no matter what anyone says. To see them in cute little clothes, in top hats, maybe even bow ties never fails to put a smile on your face. A hobby. It's a silly one, but a hobby nonetheless. And, of course, Itto (under his own insistence) needs to be decked out by his girl, too!

Word count: 1000+

Authors note: mentions of the reader being short, but to be fair when I think of Itto I still imagine that one photo of him next to Zhongli back before he was released. Itto is seven foot in my heart damnit-

Perhaps this is the perfect hiding spot, tucked behind grandma Oni's house with a stray slab of wood leaned against the wall to cover a few boxes from the rain whenever a storm comes crawling through, and currently yourself too. The treated otogi wood had a familiar smell that filled your senses. Though admiring some lumber wasn't your prime objective of this little game of hide and seek.

Not that you really needed to bother. Shinobu said the boys would be busy today helping put up posters for one of the many odd jobs they tend to pick up just to rake in some cash. Meaning you had all the time in the world to-

And the safe haven shook, the wood peeling back from this old paneled wall of the hut to reveal red horns and wide eyes right on you. A wide smile with pointed teeth that could only belong to one man, or in this case oni. “Look what I got for us!” He called out, hand holding up a small bag that, knowing him, was undoubtedly full of snacks.

So, no time in the world then.

Heh….

Taking a lid to the box you had set the onikabuto in to keep him all nice and secure as you subjected him to dress up time you slowly tried to slide it over the little guy as Itto excitedly talked. “Well my favorite sweetie pie, my bro, I got some strawberry daifuku, melon pan, and I even scored dorayaki!”

Dropping his bag on the box you were slowly sliding the lid over with a nice, hefty thud you couldn't help but jump. Itto was right about the snacks, they were something to get excited over, but not so much so when the little bug inside made a noise from the fright he was unwillingly given. You couldn't even fully click the lid over the box in time as Itto's black nails were poking the lid off as he made a small huh?

“What are you doing to my little buddy?”

The real answer to that? Well, the stray cats in the village have taken to running away from you everything they even caught a sight of your presence. Fully self done, but it still hurt as they turned away from you, fleeing from the person who would snatch them up and cover them in bow ties, little sweaters, or on the rare occasion a top hat for the less squeamish ones. It seems that you've completely lost every cats good graces after treating them like dress up dolls so you were stuck with no choice but to turn to a creature that reasonably couldn't run away. So now there's Crimson Staff being revealed to both your eyes as a bright orange ribbon was wrapped In a neat bow around his horn.

Deflect. Deflect. 

“What have I told you about calling me bro?”

“Don't call you bro when I've had my tongue in your mouth? Sorry, babe.” As he spoke, an awkward laugh slipped out of him, sharp fangs on show as he tried to brush it off with a smile. “But what are you doing to my star onikabuto beetle battler?”

Can't have his little champion getting distracted from the ring and all that. 

Okay, the first deflection didn't work.

“It's actually for your beetle battles!” You claimed, eyes flicking down to the bright orange fabric. “It's a warning. You know how in nature the most colorful animals are the dangerous ones, right? So this is just like war paint.”

Poison dart frogs are characterized by one very important feature that could only help solidify your point, so clearly, this claim has some backing. Backing Itto only seemed to nod at as he raised a hand to pat the little guy on the back, always so careful to make sure he wouldn't do any actual harm as he did so. “Interesting way to see it.”

Not at all….

“Though I'm not sure an orange ribbon would look more menacing than the bright red color he already has. Or what about that badass looking scar? But I respect the decision.” 

“Why thank you for your approval, I'm honored.”

Teasing him didn't work well though when he moved his hand over to pinch at your cheeks, pulling and squishing them at his leisure. “You’re a goof, you know that?”

“Says the town idiot.” A little uncalled for? Yes. Did you care when he was still trying to egg a reaction out of you? No. You didn't even feel bad as your tongue stuck out to point at him.

“Who you callin’ an idiot, short stuff?” How you could see his eyes flicking down to your tongue, or maybe even your lips as he leaned in closer, towering frame crouching down to where you were kneeling close enough to kiss. 

So how could you help yourself from pressing a quick smooch to his nose, trying not to giggle outwardly as his eyes crossed to watch your actions. So cute. “You, tall stuff.”

“Oh now you're asking for it, babe.” Reaching his hands out you didn't even have time to squeal as he picked you up, raising you up and into the air as Itto stood back up. There would be no freedom for you to have like this. Especially not when he had such easy access to grab at your ass. “Alright, so let's play a guessing game, yeah?”

Without even bothering to wait for you to say yes, you're down for this, Itto kept talking. “This is because you can't dress up the cats anymore, isn't it?”

Ah…you've been figured out.

“No. Maybe. Okay, yes.”

“Then I volunteer.” Katniss? “Why bother the onikabuto when I'm right here, babe? You can tie all the ribbons you want in my hair. Get some clips too if you want. I'm down for it all.”

“Is-”

“Better yet!” Itto started, cutting you off as he jostled you in his arms to keep you from falling. Mother fucker could've given a warning. “We can get the entire gang in on it. You could make us look all cool and stuff with all sorts of things. So let's get you some ribbons so then I can be the manliest oni on the block.”

“You're…ridiculous.”

“No, I'm all yours.”

Fair. “Yeah, you are.” Grabbing a tussle of his white hair you twirl it around your finger, unable to help yourself from thinking about tying it in all sorts of ways with all the little hair accessories you have back home. Maybe the ones with little skulls, more ribbons, or that one charm Itto had got you after first becoming official. (Shinobu had only told you later Itto had worked for a week straight to get it for you). “Then you're my dress up doll for the next hour, mister. No backsies?”

“None at all. Do to me as you wish, I'm so ready for a makeover!”

Oh, you're gonna make sure he'll regret saying that.

“Challenge accepted.”

Sucker.