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eightmakesonebraincell · 7 months ago

Text

ateez as pirates who fall for you (maknae line)

read hyung line here

genre: pirate!ateez x gn!reader (fem!reader for jongho), fluff, angst, continuation of the pirate trope brainrot (but i must say i went all out for the plots this time)

length: 14.4k

c/w: heavy and mature themes - mdni, explicit language (swearing), death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, illegal acts (piracy, attempted murder), alcohol, near-drowning, angst bc i mean angst, specific c/w for mingi’s au: hurt/comfort, allusions to depression

a/n: i’m very sad i never got to use this joke somewhere so - why are pirates called pirates? because they just arrrr 🙈🙉🙊 also to those who like connecting dots and whatnot there are a few easter eggs related to hyung line 🥚 big thanks to yumi @sorryimananti-romantic for getting me through the last three months of trying to work and write bc it’s been a ship time ha ha 😬👍

taglist: at the end

san

pov: you run away with san and the cromer

through your waning breath, you reach a trembling hand up to cup san’s jaw

“s-san, don’t do it”

he lets out a racking sob as he shakes his head, expression marred with agony and torment that you can physically feel in his white-knuckled grasp that covers your own hand

the tears that drip off his jaw become lost to the ground, which is damp from moisture and your blood

you swallow the metallic taste in your mouth, “the cromer isn’t meant for changing fate.” it hurts to take a breath and you wince as you stutter. “it never goes th- the way you want it to…you know that by now”

san’s voice is broken and pained, “i don’t fucking care. it’s not going to stop me from trying”

he grips your hand even tighter when he starts to feel it fall away from his cheek

it’s becoming tiring to keep your eyes open

maybe you can rest…just for a little bit

san will forgive you, right?

you close your eyes

just for a little while

just until the pain stops

faintly, you think you can feel your body being jostled against something warm

but it’s far away

far away

far

san clutches your limp body as he lets out a primal wail of anguish

you cannot die

you will not die

he snatches the glowing hourglass and flips it with desperation screaming in every cell of his body

and then his world goes white.

you don’t notice when the footsteps behind you suddenly fall silent

you’re too busy reasoning with the captain, whose back you are facing as he walks ahead and leads your crew further into the dim tunnels of the cave

“it’s much safer if we go over the mountain. we’ll have the advantage of higher ground to ambush the horizon”

your captain, taesung, doesn’t look at you when he answers over his shoulder, “it’s much quicker through the tunnels. we don’t have the luxury of time if we want to attack their crew before they leave the island”

“and what if they attack - the horizon can easily ambush us as long as they’ve got the cave’s exit guarded”

you immediately turn around to look at san, knowing that he’ll support your argument

only to find that he’s not there

he’s several metres behind the back of the group and frozen to the spot

even in the shadowed darkness of the musty cave, you can clearly see the ashen and shaken features of his face

approaching him slowly, your fire torch held out in front of you, you gently call, “san?”

at the sound of your voice, his eyes lock onto yours

he looks terrified

san is lost in a distorted warp of visions

he can’t make sense of nor connect what he’s seeing

but there is blood

there’s so much blood

it’s everywhere

you’re there

it’s your blood

there’s someone screaming; raw with despair

he’s screaming

the ground digs into his knees and he feels wet and sticky from your blood but also his tears and there are so many tears and the walls are cold from moisture and it’s so dark and musty even with the smell of iron in the air and god you’re dying

you’re going to die

“san?” you repeat, now in front of him and tenderly cupping his jaw

and san has to stop you from dying

his pupils focus on you once again before he desperately tries to gain his bearings

he looks around with increasing franticness

he’s in a cave and the only light he can see comes from the torch you’re holding and the others shared amongst the crew

water drips from the ceiling and along the rugged walls towards the damp ground, filling the cave with a stale and mouldy smell

all his senses scream the same thing to him

it’s just like when you died

his own voice sounds foreign to him when he manages to choke out, “let’s listen to captain”

your eyebrows pinch together at san’s sudden compliance, especially more so when he lowers the volume of his next words so that you’re the only one who can hear his soft don’t argue with him

there’s something about the way he silently pleads with his eyes that makes you nod numbly

you slip the hand that isn’t holding the torch into his and prompt him to walk again with a light tug forward towards the rest of the crew, who are not too far ahead

when the both of you have nearly caught up, san readjusts his hand in your grasp so that his is atop of yours

and so you two walk, san leading you with a sturdy hand; a line of defence between you and the rest of the crew…and the depths of the cave

the thin sheet of cotton that you lay upon does little to soften the discomfort of the cave’s floor as you and the crew prepare for a few hours of sleep, but your pillow makes up for it

your head is cushioned by san’s thigh, who’s seated upright against the wall after offering to keep watch

he’s gazing down at you with a tender smile as he slowly runs his fingers through your hair like a soothing lullaby

your eyes scan his, still trying to catch any changes in his expression that could possibly explain his strange demeanour from earlier

you want to ask him what’s wrong but there’s only so much privacy you can get in a cave with the rest of your crew

instead, you give his hand a squeeze

san’s smile fades a little and you wonder whether it’s the illusion of the light and shadows from the torches that makes his face look so gaunt

his eyes flicker around guiltily and then he looks at you whilst reciprocating your squeeze

he’s mouthing something, you realise

do you trust me?

you tighten your fingers around his in reassurance

with my life

the dimpled caverns return to san’s cheeks, and then he’s whispering to you softly, “sleep”

you don’t recall dozing off, but you must not have been asleep for very long before you’re woken by a light shake to your shoulder

the groggy mumble that starts to leave your lips is hushed by a warm kiss on your forehead

you’re met with the sight of san holding a finger against his lips when you open your eyes and your brain struggles to comprehend what’s happening

there’s a faint glow coming from under his bulging shirt, which could only be one thing

the cromer

as your neurons start firing again, you come to the realisation that apart from you and san, nobody else is awake yet

quietly, he helps you up to your feet

the silent question he asked before you fell asleep replays in your head, and although it does nothing to clear up your confusion, it helps to ease your anxiety because you meant it when you mouthed your response

you trust san with your life

so you turn away from your crew members and start walking, each step deliberate and careful, your hand clutched safely within san’s while he retraces your steps from today

and when san deems you two far enough and out of immediate danger of being caught, he pulls the cromer out of his shirt to use as a makeshift torch

you both make a run for it

when you emerge out of the cave’s entrance hours later, thighs burning from the strain, you almost stumble to your hands and knees from the blinding brightness of the afternoon sun

san tightens his hold on you and urges, “this way, love”

together, you climb the outcrop on the left and disappear further into the mountains because you can’t afford to rest near the cave

few words are exchanged as san nimbly navigates the rickety ledges and overgrown roots, muscles flexing as he pushes forward and helps you with an extended hand

you realise soon after that whilst he leads you two away from the cave, he travels parallel to the edges of the mountain trees - a guideline that keeps the long port of the island just within sight

“san,” you finally break the silence to point towards an overhang you spot, “we should take a break”

he’s sweating from exertion and lack of sleep, so he nods with a grateful smile and leads you towards it

the rock provides a decent amount of shade and conceals you two well enough with the surrounding greenery

only when he sits with a sigh does he finally let go of your hand after hours of holding on

you know that he’s one for constant physical affection, but this…this feels different

it’s like he’s afraid that you will slip away the moment he lets go of you

you turn to look at him

“san, what exactly is going on?”

he’s quiet

he doesn’t know how to tell you - is there even a way to package his next words prettily?

letting out a stuttering breath, san puts it blankly on the table, “i saw you die in my arms”

you’re stunned into silence and your throat feels even drier than before

“was it…” you dare to ask, “was it going to happen in the cave?”

he nods, “i just suddenly saw it and it felt so real. it- it was dark and wet and the smell - the smell was just awful and-”

“hey, hey, san. it’s okay, we’re not in the cave anymore,” you soothe, pressing your forehead to his

you feel him relax under your touch before he tilts his head to kiss your lips

“yeah,” he sighs against you, “you’re right”

when you pull away, the faint glow under his shirt catches your eyes

“why did you bring the cromer?”

if it had only been you and san missing from the crew, taesung might not have bothered going after the two of you

but with the missing cromer too, the captain will spend the rest of his life tracking it down - tracking you two down - if that’s what it will take

taesung isn’t stupid enough to just let go of the cromer and the inexplicable power it holds to travel between dimensions

san shimmies the hourglass out of his shirt and holds it carefully in his hands, “i need a fail-proof safety net, just in case something goes wrong and…i still don’t end up saving you”

“a safety net?” an uneasy feeling settles in your stomach, “san? what are you not telling me?”

he runs his fingers along the metal casing over and over again as he avoids looking at you

“i…i’ve used it before,” san finally admits, “i used the cromer to bring you back to life”

without thinking, you blurt, “it’s only meant for travelling between dimensions. nobody knows what the repercussions are if you try to mess with fate!”

“well, i did it.” he snaps, “you’re here, alive, and i would do it again and again to save you”

at his words, you soften

because san didn’t just see you die

he lived through seeing you die

you can’t even begin to imagine if you had been the one to experience san die in your arms

“i’m sorry,” you apologise. “thank you for saving me, and for loving me”

san’s eyes are red when he looks at you, “i’m sorry, too, for snapping at you. i know this is a lot for you to process”

you shake your head with your own watery smile

“i’m alive, and i promise i’ll stay alive”

“and i promise i’ll keep you alive,” he nudges your cheek with a playful peck

you laugh, because san makes you happy even in the most uncertain of times, and you ask, “what’s the plan now?”

“find a ship that’s willing to get us the hell out of here”

he makes a move to stand and you place your hand on the ground to push yourself up to your feet too

except your hand shifts with your weight and you end up cutting your palm open on the sharp edge of the rocks

hissing, you draw your hand back towards your chest

“shit, let me have a look,” san drops to his knees and takes your hand in his

he gently blows away the soil and rubble around your wound as you wince

it’s nothing too serious, but it’s deep enough that blood immediately begins to pool in the broken skin and seep further out onto your palm

the glow of the cromer pulses

“san,” you start when you see the cogs moving in his head

he removes one hand to pull the cromer out and presents it to the both of you

“i’m not losing you to infection from a cut, not after everything that we’ve done so far to get to here,” he quips

there’s only time to let out an exasperated sigh before he’s taking your good hand to turn the cromer together

your world goes white

the next moment when you open your eyes after blinking, you’re still there resting under the overhang in the mountain forest

san’s sitting next to you, the only sign of the cromer a faint glow under his shirt

and your hand…

there’s no cut

your head whips towards san and his eyes widen when he sees the unbroken skin of your palm

san makes a move to stand, but this time, he gathers your hands and pulls you up with him

“it worked,” you breathe out once you’re on your feet

“it worked!” san repeats, engulfing you into a crushing hug

the amount of relief he feels is uncontainable, because the cut is reassurance that he can change fate with the cromer

in high spirits, san tucks it back into the safety of his shirt after wrapping it in a length of sash and then he secures it snugly under his belt

you two need to look the part of inconspicuous travellers, and a glowing hourglass would most definitely draw unwanted attention

you and san cut through the back streets and alleyways of the small village that separates the mountain and the coast, keeping an eye out for not only your crew members - or ex-crew, you suppose - but also the members of the horizon

“remember,” san whispers into your ear as you both approach port, “if anyone asks, i’m your husband and we’re travelling merchants”

you’re too nervous to answer but you nod anyway, letting san take the lead once again

with the confidence of somebody most definitely not lying, san strides up to a sailor who is yelling at his men to load the crates faster and spins a story right out of his ass

somehow, san manages to concoct a convincing recount of how your goods were stolen by thieves, leaving you both without any means of making money, so now you are left with no choice but to go back to your hometown which happens to be on the way to the ship’s destination, which you know because you overheard the sailors talking earlier

when the sailor glances in your direction, you try to nurse your expression into one of simultaneous distress and gratitude in hopes of selling the story even further

he simply stares at the both of you and you think that he’s going to turn down your request, but then the sailor gives a sweet smile and extends his hand out in greeting, “daeho. welcome aboard”

that’s how you and san find yourselves in the ship’s hold, legs crossed side by side on the wooden floor and surrounded by a multitude of crates and barrels

neither of you realise that you’re holding your breaths and it’s not due to the stale air in the poorly ventilated hold

only when the shout of “anchors aweigh” is heard and the ship slowly starts to pull away from the dock do you finally relax, the feeling of hope slowly seeping into your bodies

because all that’s left now is to wait for the ship to dock at the next port and then you and san can disappear and start a new life

at the notion of safety, your stomach finally calls for attention with a grumble

san teases, “sounds like someone needs a bit of food,” just as his stomach answers with a growl of its own

you break out into laughter and pull him up with you to snoop inside the crates for something edible

lifting the lid to one of the crates, you peer inside to find what looks like a layer of burlap

you reach down with a hand to remove the covering and dig deeper, only to jerk your arm back when you feel the burning pain of a cut

“oh fuck, what?” you hiss as you look into the crate again, “why the hell are there so many knives?”

san is beside you within a split second, already turning you around to cradle your hand in his

the cut extends across your palm and there’s something sickening yet eerily familiar about the way the blood rapidly starts to pool and seep past the broken skin

goosebumps spread across your body when it hits you

“san,” you look up at him with a trembling voice, hardly audible over the pounding of your heart, “it’s the same cut”

his eyes bore into yours with reflected horror when your words sink in

because if it really is the same cut, then that means-

san’s attention suddenly shifts to behind you and that’s the last thing you register before your head explodes with blinding pain

your world turns black.

there’s a ceaseless hammering in your skull when you regain some semblance of awareness and it takes all of your willpower not to let the throb drag you back into unconsciousness

you open your eyes with a groan, trying to clear your vision, only to find san still out cold on the floor beside you

you scrabble closer towards him and brush his fringe out of his eyes

“san,” you shake him a little, “san, wake up”

his mouth tightens into a grimace as he’s slowly brought back to consciousness at the sound of your voice

“fuck…they hit hard,” he props himself up with another curse before he asks you in a panic, “are you hurt?”

you start to shake your head but then think better of it, “my head hurts like a bitch, but i’m okay”

san pulls you into his chest and wraps his arms around you

you let yourself sink into the safety of his embrace, pretending that everything is okay even if just for a moment

“i’m sorry, i’m so sorry,” san repeats the apology into the crown of your head

you can’t do anything but return hushed whispers of comfort and hug him tighter

a sudden clang draws you out of his arms as you both turn in the direction of the sound

that’s when you realise you’re no longer in the hold

you’re in a cell

the brig of the ship is much darker and the air is suffocatingly musty from the lack of ventilation and the perpetually damp floors and walls

damp from what exactly, you really don’t want to know

you hear the heavy thud of boots amplifying as the person approaches your cell, your eyes straining to make out their face in the dark

they squat in front of your bars

the sweet smile on daeho’s face makes him look crazed now and you shrink back to put some distance between you two

“did you have a good rest?” he asks, sounding genuinely curious

at san’s seething growl of anger, daeho raises his hands up in faux surrender and states, “i just want the cromer”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” san glowers

the other man wriggles his fingers at san’s waist, “you’re not very good at hiding it in your shirt”

almost as if it knows it is being talked about, the cromer flashes from under the layers of cloth

“why didn’t you just take it from us earlier,” you bite out

daeho clicks his tongue with a disappointed smile, “but then where’s the fun in that?”

he stretches a hand out and waits with his palm upturned just outside of the cell bars

“now give it to me,” he demands

san stares in retaliation, not once looking away as he slowly reaches for the cromer

he takes it out of his shirt and unwraps the sash from around it, then starts to extend the hourglass out towards daeho’s hand

as you watch with bated breath, you notice the subtle tightening of san’s grip around the metal casing and you realise he intends to flip it

except you’re not the only one who comes to the same conclusion

you see the exact moment the facade drops from daeho’s face and is replaced by his true derangement

the hand by the pistol at his side starts to move

but so do you

this time, everything turns red as the scorching heat of pain paralyses your entire body

the cromer falls to the floor at the same time as you do

from outside the cell, daeho laughs viciously, but it’s drowned out by the agonising cry that comes out of san’s chest

san desperately gathers you in his arms, hands pressing against the bullet hole to stem the blood flow

but there is so much blood

it’s everywhere

the ground digs into his knees and he’s wet and sticky from your blood but also from his own tears and there are so many tears and even with the pungent smell of iron in the air he can still smell the mustiness of the cell and he can’t get enough oxygen into his lungs because god you’re dying

and he’s suddenly struck with the heart-wrenching thought

did he unwittingly condemn you to your own fate?

or is it like the cut on your palm - is he unable to change fate no matter what decisions he makes differently?

the sob that wrenches itself out of san hurts you more than anything

“i love you,” you say, because your words are numbered and you want them all to be san’s

he shakes his head furiously, “shut up, you’re going to be fine”

your words come out effortfully, “please, i want to hear you say it one last time”

“fuck,” san buries his face in your shoulder, “i love you so, so much. i can’t live without you”

he pulls back heartbroken, “i can still change this”

through your waning breath, you reach a trembling hand up to cup san’s jaw

“s-san, don’t do it”

he lets out a racking sob as he shakes his head again, expression marred with agony and torment that you can physically feel in his white-knuckled grasp that covers your own hand

the tears that drip off his jaw become lost to the damp ground

san’s voice is broken and pained, “i don’t fucking care. it’s not going to stop me from trying”

he grips your hand even tighter when he starts to feel it fall away from his cheek

it’s becoming tiring to keep your eyes open

maybe you can rest…just for a little bit

san will forgive you, right?

you close your eyes

just for a little while

just until the pain stops

faintly, you think you can feel your body being jostled against something warm

but it’s far away

far away

far

san clutches your limp body as he lets out a primal wail of anguish

you cannot die

you will not die

he snatches the glowing hourglass and flips it with desperation screaming in every cell of his body

and then his world goes white.

mingi

pov: you're the crew's surgeon

you have all the time in the world to yourself

the recent raid was successful - the other vessel had surrendered quickly without putting up a fight and your ship is now well stocked up from the loot of supplies

hongjoong has promised the crew shore leave, a vacation of sorts, and so you and the crew are travelling to port malthov, a haven island for pirates

it’ll take about a week to arrive

and without a foreseeable raid or run-in with enemy vessels, there is no need for your medical duties

which is a good thing, really

but it also means that you have a lot of time

and time is your worst enemy

time is time alone with your own thoughts, time alone with your internal demons, and right now, your mind is a sinkhole of them and you are the very thing being pulled into its depths

you’re sprawled out on the upper deck, arms and legs splayed like a physical manifestation of your efforts to reach the edges of the sinkhole and hold on

you think to yourself that it’s reassuring when you can see blood

because it’s visible, physical, and you can fix it

step one, rinse the area with clean water

step two, disinfect the wound

step three, remove any foreign objects or dead skin

step four, suture as required for nastier injuries

step five, wrap a clean cloth over, under, over, under, then fasten

there’s a procedure and it makes sense

but when it’s invisible, what do you do?

there are no medical diagrams, procedures or journals that teach you how to heal your own hurt

you may be the crew’s surgeon, but you wonder how qualified you truly are if you can’t even fix yourself

the skies are clear today and the sun shines down directly on your exposed skin

it’s uncomfortable but you don’t move, limbs feeling just a little too strung tight to cooperate

you don’t think you have the energy to do much more than to just lie there and exist

and the burn of the sunlight is kind of nice

it tells you that you’re still alive - even if the feeling of living is pain

that’s where mingi finds you twenty minutes later, his face upside down as he leans over to look at your face-

only to very nearly drop a block of wood right onto you

“oh, shit,” he fumbles as the multitude of items he is carrying to his chest falls and clatters onto the deck around your head

you jolt up to save yourself from a bruised forehead and eye him, curiosity well and truly piqued

with a huff, he piles everything in front of you, followed by himself as he sits cross-legged in front of you

he looks suspiciously hopeful and expectant

“can you carve me another dolphin?”

months ago, you had tried carving ornamental animals out of small scraps of wood left over from a hull repair

most of your carvings had turned out hideous and you had tossed them overboard, but mingi had not stopped following you and begging until you gave him one

you could barely even call it a dolphin, but for some reason, he has kept it since like it’s something valuable

“i already made you one,” you start

but he protests, “i lost him!”

you blink

nevermind. maybe not so valuable

“...you lost it?”

you’re not sure whether you’re disappointed or relieved that it’s forever gone to the void

“i lost him, yes. so can you please carve me a new one?”

you blink once more and he looks back at you with wide, pleading eyes

“fine, pass me the knife,” you finally relent

he grins, handing something that feels quite familiar into your outstretched hand

“are these my scalpels?!” you clutch them defensively to your chest. “mingi, i am not carving wood with these”

mingi breaks out into pleased laughter, crescent eyes and gaping mouth as he produces a pocket knife that you can actually use

“you’re ridiculous,” you tell him, setting your medical instruments safely to one side, but you don’t really mean it

you bring the blade of the pocket knife to the edge of the wood and start whittling away

you expect mingi to get up and leave you to your devices, except he doesn’t

he stays and asks you question after question about the carving

which part are you working on now?

how do you shape the tail?

what was the first thing you tried to carve?

if you could carve something else after this, what would it be?

and it goes on for hours - as the wood gradually takes shape of the animal, as the harsh sun lowers and is replaced by the cool breeze of evening

…as mingi fills up your sinkhole and you are no longer grasping at the edges to stay afloat

it happens without you even realising, but he lets you take refuge in him from your own thoughts

and later that night, when the crew are preparing to sleep for the night, mingi will place the newly-carved dolphin at the head of his hammock

he will itch to rummage through the small chest that holds his personal belongings and treasures

he will want to unwrap the small object he has hidden away at the very bottom of his chest and put it side by side with the dolphin

but he won’t, because otherwise you’ll see the two dolphins and realise that he was lying about having lost the first one, so he’ll opt to keep it hidden

mingi thinks that he might even ask you to carve him something else tomorrow

he’ll say that his dolphin needs somebody by its side

what he won’t say though, is that he knows you need somebody by your side

and if he can offer you a few hours of mindlessness while you carve with him beside you, then he’ll ask you to make him a whole aquarium of animals

but that’s tomorrow

for now, he lets you rest on him, and you find that it doesn’t seem quite as hard to exist anymore

because sometimes, even surgeons need their own healers

you don’t have another bad day that week

technically, they’re all still bad days, but they aren’t as bad

but as it is with your luck, it all comes back to drag you underwater when the arriba pulls into port malthov and lowers its anchor

of all days, your head feels foggy, your body feels empty and your lungs feel laboured

you’re not even sad

you’re just…hollow

and the worst part is that you have absolutely no reason to be feeling this way

being up in the crow’s nest for once has given you the perfect vantage point to watch as the majority of the crew precariously run off the gangplank with whoops and hollers, splitting off to explore the town

their excitement is infectious - to everybody but you

instead, you had offered to take over yeosang’s lookout duties so that he could go to the town’s tavern

you’ve already rotted the morning and most of the afternoon away and your stomach grumbles in protest at having skipped both meals

it knows that you probably won’t be eating dinner either

“y/n,” a voice calls out to you from the deck, “are you not going into town?”

you peer over the edge of the nest and find mingi’s small form, his head craned upwards in your direction

“lookout duties,” you simply say

but mingi calls your bluff

“the whole point of shore leave is that we all get time off. captain’s still on board to make sure our ship doesn’t catch on fire or some shit, don’t worry”

when you still don’t make a move, mingi starts to climb up the rigging and you startle to your feet

“heavens, okay, i’m coming down”

he’s banned from rigging duties for a reason

when you land on the upper deck, he looks awfully smug with himself

he asks, “can we go eat seafood? not fish, but like the good stuff”

“since when did you like seafood?”

“always?”

mingi did not always like seafood but you let it slide

he guides you across the gangplank and towards the bustling streets of the town, keeping you tucked closely into his side

almost like he knows you’re feeling more fragile than usual

you two come across a market and he tells you to find a table in the outdoor seating area

when he returns to you after a while, both his hands are stacked with platters of shrimp, some crabs and even a lobster

“mingi, what-?” you break out into an astounded laugh

you can’t even find it in yourself to finish your sentence because it looks like he’s bought enough food to feed half your crew

he sets the plates down in front of you, one by one, until you can barely see the table itself

and you watch, still incredulous, as he picks up a steamed shrimp, meticulously peeling off the shells that he discards onto his plate

…before placing the peeled shrimp onto the plate in front of you

“eat,” he encourages

mingi picks up another shrimp to peel, looking away from you so as not to pressure you

but he can’t help but look and smile widely when you do eventually bring the food up to your mouth and take a bite

it tastes good

shrimp has always been one of the things you miss the most when you’re sailing and as the salty taste of the ocean spreads across your tongue, you start to feel your appetite returning

by the time you’ve swallowed, there’s already another shrimp on your plate, peeled and ready for eating

mingi smiles knowingly when you groan around your next bite

the sun may have already started to disappear into the horizon, but right now with mingi’s plate piling up with discarded shells and yours with juicy shrimp meat, the hollow cavity in your chest slowly filling with warmth, the sun is only just starting to rise for you

and mingi will keep filling your plate until your sun has fully risen into the sky

because sometimes, healing needs the help of an extra pair of hands

the day before your crew is scheduled to leave port malthov, you find yourself sitting on the sandy shores of the coastline, far away from where the arriba is docked

the wind tugs at your hair and the hems of your clothing in the direction of the ocean

you wonder what it would be like to just let yourself go and float along with the wind

your thoughts are interrupted by the soft squeaks of bare feet in the sand approaching you and mingi lowers himself down to sit by your side

no matter where you hide, he somehow always finds you

you give him a small smile when he calls your name in greeting, but it’s all you can really manage to do

it’s hard for you to talk today

but he already knows that

“can i tell you a story?” mingi isn’t really asking you

without waiting for a response he knows you can’t give, he starts to talk

“i don’t think i’ve told you about the time when yunho and i went skinny-dipping at night. i swear we saw the kraken that night”

he has told you this story before

more times than you can count on your fingers and toes combined - to the point where you have some of his exact phrases and expressions memorised

mingi knows he’s told you this story before

but he drones on anyway, adding his usual touches of dramatic flair and exaggerated details - words that he hopes keep you grounded to the spot so that you don’t disappear with the wind

(“did you know that yunho’s chest goes red when he screams in fright?”)

you want to make silly little comments about his silly little story

you want to laugh in harmony with mingi’s own rumbling sounds

except you can’t

it’s like whatever you want to say goes through a paper shredder right before it comes out of your mouth

and mingi knows

but he is willing to take all the time in the world to tape your words back together, shredded piece by shredded piece, until he can make you feel heard and seen

and even if you don’t talk, he is there to do enough talking for the both of you

some things don’t need to be said - he understands either way

because sometimes, healing looks like walking backwards on any progress that’s been made and that’s okay

after all…mingi’s been there before, too

the arriba sets sail again and hongjoong allows the crew one last night of rest before your usual duties resume

the stock of fresh produce and meat won’t last for longer than a couple of days anyway, so you all feast your stomach’s fill of food and alcohol

someone brings out an accordion and you all gather together on the upper deck as jongho sings to the music, background filled with the lively rattling of shared plates and mugs being passed around

the air is chilly but it’s crisp and fresh whenever you take a breath of it into your lungs

where being with the multitude of your crew usually makes you feel lonely, tonight, it feels okay

and from beside you, mingi sings along quietly to the music

his voice is not like jongho’s, which is soulful, emotional and powerful

mingi’s voice is deep, honest and raw as he sings the lyrics to the song of a man who is drowning and yearning to be saved

he looks at you during the last bridge, when the key changes from sorrowful to hopeful and the words tell of a man who is saved by his lover

you smile back at him, genuinely content in this moment

and even if it is only briefly, even if you will still have bad days in the future, you think that today is a good day

because healing takes form in all different ways, and being loved is one of them

maybe one day, mingi will be able to confess that he loves you

when he’s confident that you’ll be able to accept his love

not in the way where he expects you to reciprocate the same feelings for him, no

but in the way where you are able to accept the fact that you are worthy of being loved

there are no medical diagrams, procedures or journals that teach you how to heal your own hurt

but you have mingi and he is making one for you

it’s written with the ink of love on the very pages of his own heart and he will not stop writing until the day you are well and truly happy

and even if it takes forever?

well

mingi’s got a huge fucking heart

and it’s all yours

wooyoung

pov: you find a stowaway on your ship

“we’re headed off course again”

“again?” you look at your helmsman with furrowed brows

yunho nods, sighing out his next words, “i can’t get a read on north. the needle keeps flickering”

you look at the compass that’s mounted at the helm and true to his words, the tip of the arrow seesaws back and forth over the cardinal point

a quick glance down tells you that the newer compass you’ve got in your pocket is also behaving in the same manner, needle twitching despite the practised steadiness of your hands

so you know for sure that it’s not a fault in the instrument at the helm itself

but even if it were to be faulty, you would never replace it

not when it’s one of the only things you have remaining of your parents after they perished at sea

“maybe we should ask him,” yunho suggests, beckoning his head towards the deck

although seonghwa hums thoughtfully, having joined you both at the helm mid-conversation, you look at him incredulously

“you trust that person?”

yunho shrugs, “it’s not like he’s given us a reason to not trust him”

well

considering said man had been found stowing away in the cargo five days after your ship had left alcarres, who then also tried to plead for mercy by reasoning that he was ‘valuable’, you think that there’s plenty of reasons to not trust him

yunho rectifies his argument once he sees the pinched expression on your face, “as in, since we’ve found him on board”

you close your eyes and exhale

admittedly, yunho has a point

and there’s been one too many times where the man has flippantly suggested navigational changes or casually observed shifts in the winds and waters - which all turned out to be accurate - for it to be sheer luck

you open your eyes and call out to the upper deck

“stowaway”

yunho winces as seonghwa chides you with a slight elbow to your side at your choice of name, or lack thereof

said man looks at you from where he’s helping san and yeosang swab the deck, mouth tightening with wariness

the last time you had spoken the same word, it was along with an order to throw him into the brig with his wrists bound behind his back

but considering that that was the extent of his punishment for stowing away on your ship and he is now mingling amongst your crew with minimal security measures on your orders too, really, he’s gotten off scot-free

the stowaway approaches the quarterdeck with hesitant steps

you jerk your head towards the helm, “help yunho navigate the rest of the way to vlasgar. just until we can dock and work out what’s wrong with the compasses''

despite the curtness of your order, his face scrunches up into an enthusiastic grin

“of course, captain!”

you’re taken aback by his demeanour because you’re trying to find a reason to distrust him

but he’s not giving it to you

you watch as the stowaway makes himself comfortable against the helm rails and easily slips into conversation and banter with yunho amidst intermittent pointers to adjust the rudder

seonghwa nudges you from behind, “give him a little credit”

you scratch your neck awkwardly before calling out to your helmsman

“keep me updated on the ship’s course”

yunho nods and then you clear your throat, quickly glancing at the stowaway

“and thanks…wooyoung.”

you turn and leave the quarterdeck before you can fully catch a glimpse of the delighted smile the man beams at you

because if he’s not giving you reasons to dislike him, then you’re going to ensure he doesn’t start giving you reasons to like him

except…wooyoung attacks when you least expect it

it’s the night before your crew reaches vlasgar, and true to his claims when he was first discovered onboard, wooyoung has proven his value by navigating your ship through the waters without the aid of the malfunctioning compass

his innate sense for shifts in the wind and waters, combined with his understanding of celestial navigation and use of dead reckoning has meant that he is extraordinarily precise with his route

honestly, he’s freakishly accurate to the point where it’s a little unsettling

at least that’s what you tell yourself

you and hongjoong have given the crew the night off from their usual duties in preparation for a few busy days of maintenance and intel-gathering once your ship docks at vlasgar

wooyoung offers to cook in the galley and whip up a meal as fancy as he can from the select ingredients on board

you don’t have a good reason to deny him, not when the rest of your crew looks at you with eager faces at the thought of a meal that isn’t just the usual salted meat, so you send mingi along to help him locate the ingredients

also to keep an eye on wooyoung to ensure he isn’t using this as an opportunity to poison your crew, but you’re not about to admit that aloud

and that’s exactly when wooyoung chooses to attack

he attacks your heart with his cooking

granted, the standards are rock bottom, but wooyoung utilises a deadly combination of rosemary, thyme and bay leaves to prepare a hearty broth with preserved beef

he serves hardtack on the side to be softened and eaten with the broth, and jongho even manages to catch a few fish that wooyoung then scores and grills with lemon slices over the fire

mingi must also be in good spirits because he takes out the reserve of dried fruits and nuts that he’s usually pedantic over and allows wooyoung to arrange them artfully in a wooden bowl as nibblers to go with the profusion of rum that will inevitably be downed tonight

the impressive spread of food is placed on the upper deck where the entire crew sit in a rough circle together

you take one bite into the beef and curse without realising

“fucking hell, what did he put in this?”

wooyoung freezes mid-spoonful across from you in the circle

realising your words sound petrifying without context, you awkwardly amend them with your eyes glued to your bowl, “i could eat this every day,” before shoving another spoon of broth into your mouth to shut yourself up

there’s a chorus of teasing oooh’s at your words and somebody sing-songs, “captain likes youuu-r cooking”

“i don’t,” you scoff, completely ready to bite the bait and engage in this childish argument

but it’s him who comes to your defence

“it’s not my cooking, it’s just the spices that make a difference,” wooyoung insists

then he’s gesturing to the grilled fish and telling everyone to try, diverting the attention away from you

you accidentally make eye contact with him and initially flicker your eyes away out of embarrassment, but when you chance a peek back at him he’s still looking at you, his expression uncharacteristically calm and gentle when usually all you can hear these days is his raucous laughter bouncing across the deck

…not that you can recognise his laughter or anything

you stare at each other for a few more seconds before you lift up your bowl of beef broth and give him a little smile

you leave it up to him to interpret it however he wants

and just before you look away, you see the apples of his cheeks rounding with elation

wooyoung’s potentially earned himself a few points with his cooking (and perhaps with his unfailing happiness too), but maybe you’re just looking for excuses as to why you’re allowed to like him now

when you decide to take a walk in town long after midnight, your quarters having felt stuffy ever since you’d docked at vlasgar, you’re surprised to find that you’re not the only one still awake

“i’m going out for some air and maybe a drink, did you want to come?”

hongjoong shakes his head, “hwa’s gone out too, i’ll stay behind”

you pause, wondering whether it’d be rude if you didn’t extend the invitation to wooyoung, considering he’s literally two feet away

“what about you?” you end up offering

wooyoung excitedly hops up to his feet, “yeah, i’ll come with”

to your own surprise, you find that you’re not particularly disappointed by his response

the streets of vlasgar are empty, considering the late hour, and your leather shoes clack in unison against the cobblestones as you walk together

you’re not really sure what to say to fill the silence but wooyoung easily talks about anything and everything and you’re content to just listen

your feet eventually take you towards a small alehouse and you both settle down at one of the tables further away from the live music playing

the oil lamps flicker dimly along the wall, casting small dancing shadows on the surface of your mugs of ale

“my father never liked the taste of ale,” wooyoung suddenly muses after a swallow

you note the use of past tense

“is he…still around?” you ask tentatively

he makes a noise of refutation, the quietest he’s been tonight, before he reveals, “he took his own life”

“oh, wooyoung,” you breathe out

he curls his hands around his mug, “it’s already been two years, but it still hurts”

in a moment of empathy, you gently place your hand over his

your tone is bitter when you reply, “time doesn’t mean that it hurts any less, it just gets easier to pretend that it doesn’t”

he looks up at you, surprised by the touch of your hand but also by the sorrow reflected in your eyes

“have you also lost somebody?”

you nod at his question

“my parents,” you hesitate before adding, “their ship got swept under a rogue wave, the same night it turned into a tidal wave that destroyed the city of light”

wooyoung looks at you with wide eyes, “the one along the north coast? six- no, seven years ago?”

there’s not a single person who doesn’t know about it; when an apocalyptic wave had wiped out an entire city overnight

he places his other hand over yours when you nod again, creating a sandwich of comforting hands in the shared experience of loss and grief

you smile wistfully and he returns it

“well now that we’ve exchanged childhood trauma, care to tell me the real reason why you were on my ship, stowaway?” you half-joke

wooyoung laughs, each breath a pronounced cackle of joy, and you find the corners of your lips pulling themselves upwards too

“i’m being chased by a lunatic who’s out for my blood,” he deadpans

“that would have been nice to know before i let you join my crew”

wooyoung grins wickedly, “i’m part of your crew?”

“i’m definitely rethinking it,” you banter before you add on seriously, “only if you want to be”

he pulls his hands back to salute you loudly, “it would be my honour to be your human compass! jung wooyoung at your crew’s service!”

“shut the fuck up!” you hiss in embarrassment, but there’s no bite to your words and you’re laughing into your own hands

you tip back the remains of your ale and then beckon to wooyoung, “let’s head back, shall we?”

“yeah,” he gives you a dazzling smile

he pushes his chair back to stand up and you head towards the doors together

just as you walk past one of the tables, a man abruptly stands up and knocks into wooyoung’s shoulder harshly

your hand flies out to steady him as the man stares at wooyoung, then turns to leave without another word

“what’s his problem,” you mutter angrily. “are you okay?”

wooyoung reassures you with a placating squeeze to your arm before leading you out of the alehouse

as you retrace your steps back to the ship, you pass by a rickety stall that makes you falter

the wood of the table is rotting and standing on its last legs and there’s a roughly thatched roof propped up above its goods

even though the stall is enshrouded by the shadows of the clouded moonlight, you still wonder how you missed it on your way to the alehouse, considering it’s the only stall along the empty street, and with a vendor, no less

there’s an old woman bearing the burdens of living across her skin and in her posture, sitting hunched on an equally as weathered crate beside the table

you’re drawn towards it - by its ambience, seller or the familiar instruments lain on the table, you don’t know

the woman’s head is covered by a dusty shawl but you don’t miss the way her eyes bore beadily into wooyoung as you both approach

you reach out and skim your fingertips across the cool brass of the compasses on the table

a frown adorns your face when you notice there’s something strange about all of them

like the compass in your own pocket and the one mounted on your ship’s helm, the needles all swing indecisively over the north point, as if some unknown force is meddling with the magnetic field of the earth itself

you let out a little scoff of disbelief, “they’re all useless”

with a final glance at the table, you and wooyoung start to walk off

but then a raspy voice beckons at your backs, a ghost of a hand that tickles the hair on the nape of your necks, “the only time a compass is useless is when you have something better nearby”

unable to ignore the sensation, you look over your shoulder, “what do you mean by something better?”

a toothless smile; one that appears to know a secret that it doesn’t want to let you in on

“true north”

her cryptic answer alone is enough to tell you that you’re wasting your time

she doesn’t say anything else when you walk off for good this time after bidding her a tight-smiled farewell, not that you would have stopped either way if she did

wooyoung hurries to catch up to you

as he falls into step with you, he asks, “do you believe what she’s saying?”

“of course not, it doesn’t make any sense,” you glance at the tavern you’re walking past, telling you that the port is close now. “how can you have true north?”

wooyoung’s brows knit together, “well, there’s that old legend that says true north isn’t actually a direction, but a-”

he’s cut off by an amused voice behind you both

“so it really is you…jung wooyoung”

when you turn around, you’re met with the sight of a man donning a long, velvet coat and buckled shoes - articles of clothing very obviously pirated from the wealthy

it’s evident that he and wooyoung are acquainted in one way or another, but from the way wooyoung’s face loses its colour, they’re acquainted in a bad way

immediately, your hackles are raised

the man’s tone is saccharine as he continues, “when one of my men said that they had spotted you, i didn’t believe him”

“what do you want?” you snarl at the same time wooyoung murmurs next to you, “it’s the lunatic. jang hyunsoo”

hyunsoo cocks his head as he stares you dead in the eye, “i want him. dead.”

your face darkens, unwilling to back down, “and why are you so intent on killing him?”

“oh?” he raises an eyebrow in delight at your answer. “you must not know who he truly is”

sick of his bullshit, you reach down towards your belt to unsheath a throwing dagger and hold it in front of your body, “i don’t care who the fuck he is. he’s my crew member and that’s all that ma-”

“he’s the man that the legends speak of. blessed by the sea gods, bearer of the oceans’ wisdom - jung wooyoung is true north”

those two words again

you don’t understand why everyone you come across today seems to be so fixated on the idea of…

suddenly, you remember.

legends tell a story of true north - not a direction pointing to the earth’s axis, but a person

a man blessed by the gods of the sea with the power to be all-knowing when it comes to the waters

he possesses the innate ability to navigate without use of any instruments or celestial bodies; the wisdom of which passageways and courses to sail; the subconscious understanding of mother nature and her elements

the powers are passed down through his bloodline for generations, but the blessing does not stay sacred for long

human greed and coveting eventually lead to the murder of the bearer of true north at the time, and the powers are transferred to the murderer, permanently staining the bloodline and commencing the paradoxical cycle of sinning for a blessing

however, this does not go unpunished

the gods of the sea are enraged and in their uncontainable wrath they cause-

your memory ends there no matter how hard you try to recall the rest of the legend

wooyoung interrupts

“if you kill me, there’s no guarantee you’ll survive the consequences,” he tries to reason with the other. “just have a look at how close we are to sea”

you’re lost but hyunsoo sneers, “it’s not your power that i’m hungry for. it’s only fair that i spill your blood, after your father spilled the blood of my family”

at the mention of his father, wooyoung growls, “what the fuck do you think you’re saying”

“how do you think your father became true north? or better yet, let me jog your memory,” hyunsoo’s expression becomes hauntingly blank, “what happened seven years ago that wiped out a whole city because the sea gods had been angered?”

your breath hitches as you involuntarily whisper, the remaining piece of the puzzle slotting into memory, “...a tidal wave”

“yes,” he acknowledges your words but keeps his eyes drilling into wooyoung, “because true north - my father - was killed”

as were your parents by extension of the consequences

“killed by my father,” wooyoung concludes, voice frail as everything rapidly starts to reveal itself

one more revelation makes him look at you with a face of horror and remorse, “y/n…your parents…”

without hesitation, you push aside your own anguish for him

“wooyoung,” you warn, “it’s not your fault”

because you see it

the very moment his eyes start clouding over as he willingly takes on the burden of guilt wrongfully left behind by his deceased father - the same guilt that eventually took the man’s own life

wooyoung, who, with a heart and soul too pure, would rather take the blame himself than to push it onto somebody else

you step in front of him, knife raised in protection

because despite your best efforts, wooyoung had not only secretly stowed himself away on your ship but has also secretly stowed himself away in your heart

“what are you doing?” he tries to tug you behind him

there’s a teasing lilt in your voice as you stand steadfast, “stowaway, you’ve ruined navigating for me now - made it too easy for me and the crew. so you better fuckin’ take responsibility and be my compass for as long as i sail”

“how touching,” hyunsoo coos patronisingly before he draws the cutlass from his sheath, “looks like i’ll just have to kill the both of you”

you don’t stop wooyoung this time from stepping up to stand by your side, his own hands armed with dual daggers and his demeanour now iron-willed to fight

because if you’re prepared to fight for him, then wooyoung is prepared to fight twice as hard for you

tonight, either hyunsoo dies, or you both go down trying

the tension in the air is punctuated only by the slight scrape of your soles as you and wooyoung lower your stances and shift further onto your front feet

you had never believed in the sea gods until now, but you pray that they’re watching over you both

and indeed they are

they answer your prayers in the form of a deafening gunshot in the nearby tavern

hyunsoo flinches at the sudden commotion - only slightly, but the distraction in attentiveness is more than enough

now.

as you and wooyoung leap forward together in unison, weapons raised, the needles in your hearts’ compasses waver for one final time before they settle and point resolutely in one direction

your needle at wooyoung; wooyoung’s needle at you

because compasses will always point at true north and that’s exactly what you are to him and him to you

each other’s true north

jongho

pov: you're a mermaid who saves him

you follow the shadow of the ship’s hull, gliding effortlessly through the waters

you know that you shouldn’t be following so closely but it’s hard to refuse the temptation that comes hand in hand with storms

there’s a chance that vessels will toss cargo overboard as a last-ditch effort to save their ship from sinking

and if you’re really lucky, the vessel might sink entirely and you’ll be able to spend the next few days rummaging its ruins, scavenging for shiny treasures and intriguing objects

besides, what’s the worst that could happen?

no sailor or pirate in their right mind would think to cast a fishing net in this weather

you only have your carelessness and recklessness to blame, but regret won’t change anything about your current situation

you feel the strange lurch in your stomach as the fishing net you’re trapped inside is pulled out of the water, up along the side of the ship’s hull, until it levels with the gunwale

there’s someone standing there waiting

his face is still rounded and limbs still gangly with the telltale signs of youth

the fish around you jerk around desperately, a physical manifestation of your terror, while you lock eyes with the young teenager and grip at the net with white-knuckled fists

you are at his complete mercy

he stares in shock at your form, until you beg a single word

“please”

immediately, he draws a small pocket knife and starts to frantically cut through the net

there’s another questioning voice from somewhere on the deck that you can’t make out the words to, but from the way the boy in front of you picks up speed, you’re seconds away from being discovered

“come on, come on, come on,” the boy mutters through gritted teeth

there’s a slight jerk as he cuts through the strands of flax and a few fish slither their way out, the hole starting to become bigger

he lets out a hiss of pain when he accidentally slices through his own hand in his haste

but even then, he does not stop or falter

and then you hear it

the ripping of the material when the weight of yourself and the other fish tear the remainder of the net

you plummet into the ocean

and the last thing you see before the world above becomes blurred by the waters is the boy’s wide eyes peering over the ship’s edge as he watches you fall

jongho struggles to adjust his centre of gravity as the ropes stutter underneath him

he chances letting go of the rigging briefly with one hand so that he can wipe the rain out of his eyes, which is pouring down incessantly and obscuring his vision

overhead, the top sail continues to billow and flap in an angry dance as the rapidly shifting winds tangle it further

he swallows thickly and grips the rigging once again

he needs to climb up and untangle the damned sail, fast

one hand extending outwards to grab the running rigging, jongho supports himself on shaky legs so that he can unfurl the twisted edges of the sail from around the ropes

it’s difficult enough having to chase the mocking flits of the canvas in the gale, but it’s fucking hellish with the added lurching and pitching of the ship as it’s battered by the swells of the sea

he finally manages to get a good grip on the sail and tugs hard, feeling it give way and flush full as it catches the wind properly now that it’s free

except the force of it sends the material swelling right in his face and he slips

by some saving grace, the combined movement of another colossal wave sends his body careening through the air in a wide arch

he does not land on the upper deck in a heap of broken bones

instead, he plummets into the ocean

and the last thing jongho sees before he loses consciousness is the shimmer and flick of a tail

your body reacts instantaneously to the sudden intrusion of something plunging into the waters in front of you, your tail swishing to increase your distance

for a brief second your heart seizes up in fright at the thought of a harpoon

but then you see it - see him

apart from the young teen who had freed you years ago, you have never seen a human up close before

and certainly not one in the ocean; in your home

there is something about the man before you that is beautiful yet haunting

it is as if time and gravity have warped his very existence

you see a weak flail of legs, a desperate hand reaching for the surface, floating tendrils of hair, but even in the face of approaching death, his movements appear slow and graceful in the water

as the pockets of air and bubbles of foam dissipate from around him and cruelly escape upwards without him, the man stills - grand and slow as his form steadily starts to make a descent towards the sandy bottom of the ocean

in folklore amongst your merpeople, humans are as swift, sure and savage on land as they are aboard their monstrous vessels

and yet, watching the ethereal existence of this man before you, you realise that once humans are underwater, they are at the complete mercy of mother nature and her beings

you gingerly swim closer

when you wrap your arm around the man’s limp body, his skin is warm under your fingertips

you’re reminded of the fact that he is at your complete mercy

and so you swim.

the moment jongho regains consciousness, his chest involuntarily contracts in an attempt to take a huge, stuttering breath

he curls onto his side instead, one hand scrabbling in the wet sand and his other arm crushed between the ground and his upper body as he hacks up his lungs with retching motions

the salt water burns even more coming back up than it did going down and his eyes sting with tears

when the convulsions cease, jongho closes his eyes and rests his forehead against the cool sand, trying to regain his breath-

and bearings

the jarring clarity has him sitting up abruptly as he tries to recall where he is and what he’s doing

there was the storm

the tangled sail

him climbing up the riggings

falling down, down, down

and then…

you

your eyes widen when the man’s unfocused gaze suddenly sweeps the waters and lands on the small part of your face that is exposed and peering at him

instinctively, you duck underwater, the notion of hiding your existence from humans ingrained into you

but even though he only sees a glimpse of you, jongho would recognise you from anywhere

it’s hard to forget when he’s kept his eyes peeled on the waters since that day, hoping to see you once again

he can’t believe that the mermaid he once saved would end up being his saviour

but he guesses that’s what people call fate - an alignment of miracles

he glances around at his surroundings to find himself in the safety of a small cove

you dare to emerge your curious eyes again when you see the form of the man stand up with his gaze on the sand, seemingly in search of something

he fumbles along the edge of the coast, reaching down several times to grasp things too small for you to discern

it seems that he becomes satisfied with what he has found, because he then sets them all down in the wet sand - right where the tide kisses the shore in a teasing game of chase - and takes several steps backwards so that he is no longer close to the waters

the man scratches the back of his head as he gestures vaguely to the pile, appearing to want to say something before thinking better of it and turning around to pick at the driftwood further inland

you wait, trying to gauge his actions

but when it becomes clear to you that he is not attempting to catch you off guard, you cautiously swim closer to shore

you are able to rest your forearms comfortably on the shoreline’s sand from how close you get

and then you see it

a small pile of glossy pebbles and patterned shells

a peace offering of pretty things he could find that he thought you might like

you duck under the water again, but this time to hide your shy smile as opposed to an act of instinctual self-preservation

jongho looks at the hefty pile of dried wood that he has gathered in the meantime, deeming it enough to keep a fire going for the inevitable night he will have to spend at the cove

he’s tried his hardest not to look out to the waters, wanting to gain your trust

but he can’t help it this time when his eyes are drawn to the little mound of his sincerity in the sand

…only to find it untouched, and you nowhere to be seen

he tries not to feel disappointed

after all, you have no reason to trust him

so he sets his mind on starting a fire before the sun sets completely instead, trying to ignore the growing dryness in his throat

when he finally nurses a spark into a flame an hour later, jongho almost misses it in his fatigued state

but it’s unmistakable when he walks closer

gone is his own pile of pebbles and shells

in its stead is a jumbled collection of broken combs, rusted locks and a glass bottle

a peace offering of peculiar things you had found that you thought he might need

jongho doesn’t know it, but as he bends down to carefully gather every gift and safekeep them closer to his fire, he is not the only one with a bashful smile on his face

you tell yourself it’s purely curiosity and displaced familiarity that makes you linger and return to the cove the very next morning

you’re well aware what the risks are if you fall in love with a human

how many stories have you heard of mermaids and mermen alike, falling for a human, only for their love to be unilateral or rejected?

their tails slowly lose their lustre as gradual paralysis takes over until they lose complete control

quite literally drowning within their own body, they eventually sink to the bottom of the ocean to perish with the decaying wreckages of sunken ships…

and the countless corpses of sailors, pirates and other unfortunate souls alike

it’s ironic

no matter how much folklore makes out humans and merpeople to be different, you all end up the same in the face of death; buried in the soil of the earth or buried in the sand of the ocean bottom

side by side

jongho stands in that very ocean right now, sleeves and pants rolled up to keep them as dry as possible as he crouches over with the water up to his thighs

he would try to fashion a fishing hook or harpoon of some sort, but with the possibility that you may be close by in the waters, he doesn’t want to risk using anything that could hurt you

so he resorts to using his bare hands

you’ve been watching from the safety of the water for well over half an hour now, curious and slightly endeared by his clumsy attempts to grab at something

you’re not sure what, but you can see the fish as they dart teasingly through his legs and from out of his reach

for beings that are supposedly apex predators, this human doesn’t seem intimidating at all

so, very cautiously, you swim up closer to him

jongho feels himself freezing at the sight of you approaching - not because he’s afraid of you, but because he’s afraid he’ll scare you away

he holds his breath as you hesitate and linger just out of his reach, then swim up and bump his leg playfully with your tail as you circle around him once

he’s reminded of a puppy wanting to sniff out somebody unfamiliar and his eyes follow your form with rounded fondness

“hi,” he breathes out softly, “i’m jongho”

your tail swishes with sudden movement, splashing him with water and he giggles

you can hear it clearly even from under water and your heart nearly stops

if this man - if jongho - was a siren, the sounds of his happiness would be his song of calling

you want to hear it again

jongho sucks in a breath when you dare to emerge from the water’s surface, presenting him with a fish held carefully between your lips and one more in each of your hands

he’s a little dumbfounded at how easily you managed to catch them as he gently takes the one from in between your teeth

the still-flailing fish in his hands is peppered with two tiny neat rows of puncture holes where you had carefully bitten into it

he finds it so fucking cute, especially when you continue to peer up at him with expectant eyes, wanting to know if it was the fish that he was trying to catch this whole time

he wants to thank you, and not just for the fish

so he fumbles through his words when he asks, “would you like to eat with me? unless…” he trails off, “unless you don’t eat fish because…”

are mermaids technically fish?

did he really just offer you the mermaid equivalent of human flesh to eat?

before jongho can panic and try to salvage the situation, you give him a shy smile and nod

jongho makes a fire as close to the shore as possible without the wood at risk of becoming wet

as he spears the fish onto sticks so that he can hold them over the flames, you gather the courage to slide out of the shallow waters so that you can lay on the damp sand closer to him

whilst you can for short periods, you rarely ever fully emerge out of the waters because you leave yourself vulnerable without the full mobility of your body

but jongho makes you feel safe enough to do so

and he must at least partially recognise the amount of trust you are placing in him because he looks at you in awe, the unveiled beauty of your tail now in full display

your scales are a kaleidoscope of cerulean, mauve and periwinkle, reflecting onto the sand below you in a magical dance with each of your slight movements

he notices that the gradient peters out into shades of salmon and coral the closer the scales are to your waist and he cannot tear his eyes away from you

jongho thinks to himself that you were created by the hands of the sea god, who then named the word beautiful after you

and even then, the word does not seem to do you justice

“why are you staring?”

your voice is simultaneously bashful and teasing, yet jongho is utterly mortified that your first words to him are ones exposing his smitten behaviour

his brain kickstarts in panic and he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind

“if your tail gets too close to fire, will you start smelling like grilled fish?”

for a split second, your expression contorts into one of pure horror, before the absurdity of his question breaks down the remainder of your reservations and you lose yourself in laughter

a pretty blush settles over the round of jongho’s cheeks and then he is also laughing with you

together, where the land and sea unite, the sounds of your shared happiness fill the air

his song of calling chimes melodiously in your heart even as you swim away for the night

but the dangerous thing about a siren’s song is that you don’t realise you’ve become captivated…

until it’s too late

you’re looking down at the object in your hands as you swim for the cove

it’s cream-coloured and smooth to touch, with several blunt tips extending from one side

you’ve always wondered what it is and so you decide to see if jongho will know

you don’t notice the large rock formation jutting out of the seabed until it’s almost right in front of you and at the last second, you flex your tail to manoeuvre yourself around it

except you must miscalculate your distance because you end up grazing yourself on the sharp edges of the rock

it doesn’t puncture your scales but it certainly catches you off guard - your organs and senses work in a way that ensures you never collide into anything so long as you are underwater

so then, why?

you look down and your heart drops

tentatively, you spin around once, eyes never leaving their focus

you realise it’s not a trick of the lighting or the water

your scales have started to lose their shimmer

jongho is beginning to think that you won’t show up today when you finally do, one of your treasures cradled in your hands and a smile on your face that doesn’t quite reach your eyes

(you weren’t going to show up, not after realising that you need to stop yourself from falling further in love with jongho if you want to live, but you decide to be selfish one last time and say goodbye, even if you’re the only one who knows it’s a goodbye)

“what’s that?” he gestures towards your hands with his chin as you slide your upper body out of the shallow waters, leaving your tail to be submerged when the waves come in

you uncurl your fingers with a shrug

“it’s a comb,” he answers his own question as he turns it over in his hand, “made out of animal bone, i think”

you look at him curiously as he sits down, unbothered about wetting his clothes, and you ask, “what’s a comb?”

jongho brings it up to his head and pretends to move it up and down

“you run it through your hair to untangle it”

he pauses as his eyes flicker to your hair then back to your face

“i can…show you how to use it…if you want?” he offers

just once, you’ll allow yourself to get close to him just this once

when you nod and sit up, jongho shifts himself so that he is behind you

you try not to shiver when you feel the heat of his chest enveloping your back as he reaches forward to gently gather the hair from around your face and neck

he steadies your head with one of his hands, the other bringing the teeth of the comb through the slight waves of your hair

his touch is soft and loving in the way he tries not to tug too hard when he encounters a knot

his fingertips skim against you intimately but with an innocence that betrays the fact that he has never brushed somebody’s hair before

you feel your shoulders relaxing into his touch and your eyes close, blissfully - and perhaps deliberately - ignorant to the fading radiance of your body

“are you feeling okay?” jongho’s voice sounds even more alluring when it’s right next to your ear and you can’t help but shudder this time. “you seem paler than usual”

he brings a hand down to your waist and turns you towards him so that he can see you better

you try to formulate an answer, “i…”

i think i’m in love with you

of course, you would never tell him that

but before you can tell him that you’re fine, you become distracted by the glimpse of something on his hand that’s still resting on your waist

a scar

“is that- how did you get this?”

you run your thumb lightly over the taut, white line that runs from his wrist to the knuckle of his index finger

as you’re suddenly reminded of the familiar memory of a teenager with rounded cheeks and gangly limbs, the man beside you with those very same eyes looks at you fondly

“i cut myself trying to free a mermaid from a fishing net”

your gaze is unfocused as you process the information

the effects of the shattering revelation are immediate and a terrifying numbness starts to creep up your tail

because what you didn’t know - what nobody in folklore knew - was that the effects of paralysis and onset of death are accelerated when you fall in love with someone again for the second time

years ago, your heart had been claimed by the young man who had freed you at his own expense

you had managed to survive the heartbreak due to the briefness of your encounter, your paralysis fading and tail regaining its beauty when you never saw him again

but the effects of your unilateral love have not vanished entirely as you and your merpeople have believed it to

they have simply lay dormant like a disease, waiting for the right time to resurface when your feelings are rekindled

and so now it snowballs and gains traction at a speed that cannot be stopped, racing to catch up on the numerous years that you have cheated death where you thought you did not love jongho

“why is your tail turning grey?” the voice of the man you love is pinched with muted panic

you never thought you would ever be afraid of your own tail; your own body

yet, when you look down to see the monochrome advancing up each layer of your scales, you are absolutely petrified

your tail is starting to look like a stone statue and you know it won’t be long until that’s exactly what you become - motionless and unmoving

“y/n! why is your tail grey?!” jongho repeats with a shout, in full blown panic due to your lack of response

you can’t- won’t die in front of him

your lower body is almost deadweight with immobility and you bite back tears as you’re forced to crawl pathetically towards the water with your arms

jongho scrabbles to his feet as he hovers next to you, hands wanting to help but not quite touching you because he’s not sure what’s happening and he doesn’t know what he can do for you and you look like you’re in pain but he doesn’t know why-

“don’t!” you bark out sharply

he freezes in shock

you’re frightened and angry and you want to yell at something, someone, but…

you could never yell at jongho

with a much softer, albeit shaky voice, you tell him, “don’t look for me”

and before you can hear the pained noise that escapes jongho’s lips, you drag yourself back into the water

except a few metres after you’ve submerge yourself, the unthinkable happens

you. cannot. breathe.

you’re drowning.

jongho doesn’t care if you’ll hate him forever, doesn’t care if this is the last time you’ll choose to see him, but he will not just stand and watch when it looks like you are leaving to die alone

his body moves with the decisions of his heart before his mind tells him otherwise

he dives into the water after you

the world distorts around him; a moment of weightlessness as the waters easily shift to accommodate his body; the bubbling sound of air pockets reverberating inside his very skull; the shock of cold that overrides every other bodily sense

jongho forces his eyes open with numerous blinks until he can see you

your form is eerily still, and yet, you remain bewitching

he kicks his legs desperately with one arm outstretched and as soon as you are within reach, he tugs you into his chest

you’re limp to touch, lips slack and parted as if the very essence of your soul is escaping through your mouth

jongho will not let you die

lungs starting to burn and heartbeat pounding in his ears, he presses his lips against yours

a kiss of life-

he closes his eyes

-and love

but you don’t respond

jongho ignores his instincts even as his body screams to part from you and kick upwards for a breath

instead, he moves his jaws to kiss you even harder

and then he feels it

he almost sobs into you when your lips twitch weakly against his

with renewed vigour, you’re sealing your mouth around his bottom lip as you respond, capturing him in a real kiss

below your joined lips, your scales start to bloom with their full brilliance once again

your tail shimmers brighter than before, reflecting intricate patterns of fractals with each slight ripple of the water as you open your eyes to the sight of jongho’s face, beautifully swathed in the incandescence of the rainbow

you can move again

you flick your tail, jongho’s arms still firmly around your waist and you both burst upwards, breaking the water’s surface with spluttering breaths

he desperately treads you both backwards towards the shore even though you can easily hold your own now

“jongho, you-”

he takes one look at you before he cuts your words off and plunges himself back underwater, stunning you into stupor, until he re-emerges with another splutter

“your tail!” he yells with overwhelming relief, face still scrunched as he tries to sweep his fringe up and wipe the water from out of his eyes

“yeah…” voice muted as you process the fact that you’re still alive, “my tail…”

“fuck, you scared me”

jongho’s eyes are bloodshot as they stare into yours, and you know for a fact that they aren’t just red from the irritation of salt water

you bring up a hand to rest it on his chest, right where his heart still thumps rapidly under your touch, and you apologise with a small smile, “sorry…i scared me, too”

he huffs a little before looking at you earnestly

“don’t ever do that again”

the water is now shallow enough that jongho can stand, but it’s deep enough that you can still drift effortlessly

it’s the perfect harmony where land and sea unite; where a human and a mermaid interact

where you, the enchanter, and jongho, the enchanted, find a balance of love

“i won’t,” you promise

on land, humans tell a story of a mermaid who falls in love with a man

a mermaid who is ready to give up her voice in exchange for her happily ever after

but in the sea, merpeople tell a story of a man who falls in love with a mermaid

a man who is ready to give up his life in exchange for his happily ever after

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endearng · 25 days ago

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Stranger danger

Pairing: Spencer Reid x single mom!reader Summary: The power goes out. You and your daughter leave your apartment to find some light. Luckily, a stranger floods your being with it. WC: 2.1k Warnings: reader is scared of the dark; light mentions to stranger danger; it's a meet cute (guilty). Let me know if I missed anything. A/N: HI!!! I couldn't sleep so I decided to finish and post this one. I hope you guys enjoy it. Totally planning on a sequel for these three. Feedbacks are highly welcomed and appreciated. <3 neighbor!au masterlist | main masterlist

Spencer Reid was the most unnoticed and absent tenant of his building. His apartment was almost eerily quiet during most of the time, because of two main reasons. One, he was out of town often because of his job, of course, and, two, he didn't do much when he was there. He was a man who kept to himself whose idea of fun consisted of reading classic Literature. And don't take it the wrong way; not being around much didn't mean that he disliked his place, it was quite the opposite. He thoroughly enjoyed having a space to call his own, to organize, to cramp up the areas just the way he liked it. It gave him a sense of comfort, even though it felt lonely more often than not.

One of his neighbors had a child, he could tell that much because of the noises he would hear when he was around — while playing or the whining when she wanted something, after all, that's how kids usually behave. Spencer didn't mind them, of course, he was away for most of the time, so it wouldn't be rational to be bothered by a child acting like one. It was like being annoyed by an adult acting out, which did happen, but adults were supposed to be more self-aware than kids.

Although fairly acquainted with the routine of the family by putting pieces together from time to time (something his brain couldn't help but do, almost automatically), he had never seen their faces. He knew their voices and could even tell their footsteps apart. Sometimes, he would think about them. How did their day go, if everything was alright, if they ever addressed uncomfortable topics, if they ever had problems like his own frequently faced after they discovered about his mother's condition. He was acutely aware of the fact that those thoughts were the results of some sort of projection, almost like those neighbors were his personal novel to read and he longed to relate to its characters, because so much of his childhood had been ripped from him in ways he worried he could never recover from and terribly soon — he didn't remember ever knowing the sense of a loving, ordinary family like they apparently did and lived.

Today was a day off. He sat on his balcony, the summer breeze kissing his skin and messing up his hair, writing a letter to his mother. He tried his best to remain true to the commitment of making her a part of his life as a way to ease the guilt and sadness that gnawed at him for not being capable of caring for her properly by himself. He dearly missed Diana, he was his mother, after all. The only one who stood by him, even if not at her best, the only family he had left.

Satisfied with his writing, he finished the letter with a promise that he'd visit her soon. As he was folding the paper to put it inside the envelope, everything went black. The light left completely and, for a moment, he thought he had fainted because of the suddenness of it. That's when he heard the shrieking coming from the apartment next door and with a small chuckle, he deduced it was a power outage.

"Oookay, we don't need to panic, Oli, right? The light will be back in a few moments," he heard from the balcony next to his. It was the mother's voice, surely.

"Mommy, 'm scared," the little girl, Olivia, cried.

"I know, baby, but mommy is right here," was the answer provided, followed by the sound of a loud and exaggerated kiss. He heard the little girl giggle. "That's better, sweetie. Come on, let's talk. How are you feeling?"

"'m scared, but happy that you're here, mommy," she said.

"I'm happy to be with you, too, my girl," the woman cooed.

Spencer all but listened to the sweet interaction close to him. Unbeknownst to the woman, he held it even closer to his heart. It was one of the purest forms of love he had ever witnessed and he was grateful for them both during that time.

You, on the other hand, felt panic rising in your chest as the minutes passed and the dark still engulfed you, your little girl's voice the only comfort soothing you from time to time. Olivia was really scared of the dark, so as time went by, you tried to assure her that there was nothing to be scared of, and even if she was, she shouldn't feel embarrassed, that it was okay to express those feelings and that you were there for her. You were glad that she trusted you enough to believe those empty words, because you were terrified of the dark.

It all started as a kid. Not knowing what could be lurking in the shadows absolutely freaked you out and admiting it out loud was mortifying, so you did your best to hide it. If your daughter's reaction was anything to go by, you were doing a good job, so you relished on that.

Right now, it was becoming more and more difficult to play the part of the brave, fearless mother. So you started singing, soon enough followed by your daughter.

Super trouper lights are gonna blind me

But I won't feel blue like I always do

'Cause somewhere in the crowd there's you

Olivia giggled. It was one of her favorite songs, you had introduced it to her when she was too shy before one of her recitals. She had only memorized the chorus, of course. You were forever thankful for having that song engraved in your memory, because now the footage you had from said recital had Olivia showing all her moves looking right at you, basically all of the time.

"Oli, what do you think of going to the lobby? Maybe we could find some friends there." You suggested, which made Spencer's interest rise. Could it be a chance for him to finally address faces to the family he almost felt a part of?

For someone so bright, he truly didn't know if he was overstepping or being obsessive, it just made sense to him. Like aforementioned, he felt like it was a novel.

He heard little hands clapping excitedly and heard the next door opening and then closing right after. He used the time to think if he was behaving like the creeps he profiled for a living, but decided to give himself some credit by realizing he didn't mean to do no harm, he was just curious.

As time went by, the lobby soon became crowded with people and basically everyone had a flashlight on. It made Spencer laugh internally. He searched the area for a woman and a little kid, but no success. The room was so packed it almost felt suffocating and for a moment he felt ridiculous for considering searching a room for someone whose face he wasn't familiar with. What was he thinking? His mother always said that his job should stay out of his personal life and he had yet to learn that. So, he decided to go outside for a breath of fresh air.

What he didn't expect was to find a woman and a little girl sitting on the benches just outside the apartment complex. Their voices sounded exactly like the ones he had been noticing for some time now. He froze, unable to look away from them.

The girl had her mother's features. They were so scarily alike that it felt like he was watching the same person during different periods of her life, but simultaneously, as if he was on some sort of time travel.

He was ripped out of his daydreams when the little girl came running towards him, "Look, mommy! He has a letter! You send them to grandpa!"

Although very embarrassed by your daughter's sudden run, you jumped on your feet to catch up with her. You didn't know that man, so it only made sense to be very alert and to keep your child away from him. As you neared the two of them, you placed your hands on Oli's shoulders, who was standing in front of him, you took in his appearance. He was tall, a little lanky and had long-ish hair, cut just around his shoulders. He had dress pants and a shirt loosely buttoned up as well. His eyes were searching your face, as if he was scanning you as well. The poor lighting didn’t help either of you, but you two were almost touching with your eyes, if such a thing were possible, from how much you were looking, almost admiring each other.

Amid his thoughts from earlier, he didn't even realize he was still holding the letter he had written that afternoon.

"Hi," you greeted, a little awkwardly, "I'm sorry. She’s still learning about stranger danger. Or bothering people." You chuckled, nervously.

What the hell have you just said?

"Actually, stranger danger did the most harm to this country in terms of crimes like that. I remember them coming to my classroom. It was Officer Friendly with stranger danger coloring books. Taught a whole generation about a scary man in a trench coat, hiding behind a tree. Then we learned that strangers are only a fraction of the offenders out there." He rambled.

What the hell has he just said?

You knitted your eyebrows together, perceiving his comment as peculiar, to say the least. "Well, yeah."

"Sorry about that. I tend to ramble about some topics. I'm not a creep, I swear. I work with the FBI, I know it can be odd to start a conversation like that. Well, your daughter did," he chuckled, albeit tensely, "My name's Spencer. Spencer Reid. I live in this building. Third floor."

You laughed a little over his rambling, relief flooding your body once you realized that he was just a regular guy. A regular guy that worked for the FBI. You told him your name and Olivia's as he offered you a friendly handshake, "Me and Olivia live there, too."

"MOMMY!" Olivia shouted, sounding exasperated and thrilled at the same time. "He is the ghost neighbor!"

"Ghost neighbor?" He asked, shocked and a little humored.

You laughed at your daughter and the confusion adorning his beautiful features. "Oli, don't scream. We already talked about it," you addressed your daughter, firmly but gently. Spencer was in awe. "It's just an inside joke between the kids. You're almost never home and every once in a while they hear some sounds coming from your apartment. They say a ghost lives there. They even put up some decorations on your front door on Halloween, but I decided to remove it in case it bothered you."

Olivia laughed like someone had spilled a funny secret and Spencer quickly joined her. You chuckled, even though you were more puzzled than anything by the fact that your daughter had approached, so confidently, a stranger. It made you both terrified and happy. Terrified because he could be a weirdo. Happy because she was able to come out of her shell. Even happier to see her coming out of her shell with a nice stranger.

"It’s alright. I wouldn’t have minded. I love Halloween.” He said, addressing you. You could tell then that, at least, he wasn’t someone bitter. “Sorry to disappoint, Miss Olivia. It's just me moving some chairs every now and then. But I won't tell if you won't."

"I won't!" She squealed, and Spencer smiled. You couldn't draw your eyes away from their exchange. Olivia balled her small fists on your skirt, pulling you out of your reverie, so you crouched down at her height. She whispered something in your ear. Spencer watched, curiously, as you nodded at her.

"She said you need a pinky promise." You told him once you were standing again. Spencer gladly crouched and stuck out his pinky towards Olivia, who intertwined her own with his.

"Now we can't tell anybody." He said, with a genuine smile on her face.

"Mommy, you hafta promise it too." Olivia said, grabbing your hand and pulling your pinky toward Spencer's hand, linking them together. You felt the heat rising to your face.

The power came back. Suddenly, your pinky was linked to a very handsome man who you had just met because of your one-of-a-kind daughter. It made you nervous, because the light highlighting his beautiful features in all the right places made you feel like a deer caught in the headlights. By looking at him alone, you thought of words related to the light four times. As he looked back at you with a gorgeous smile on his face, you finally understood why people associate light with feelings.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x yn #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x singlemom!reader #singlemom!reader

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sunny-knight · 11 days ago

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@forgettable-au FAN ANIMATION ! LOUD NOISE WARNING!

*What was it all for…?

Song: Vishnu <3 by Peter Cat Recording Co.

…okay.

The main inspiration for this…can be summed up with I LOVE HOW SAD THIS CONCEPT IS. BUT i also adore how WEIRD it is.

This whole thing must be pretty weird and creepy for the characters right??? Like- we dont know for certain what EXACTLY is gonna happen, but we know for a fact that Wingdings finds out hes in a game, then kills himself so he can be closer with god-

THATS PRETTY WEIRD 😭😭 also sad but we can ignore that for now

I also experimented a tad with this in working with silence, so timing things at my own pace! It was really hard! I HAD SO MUCH FUN!!!!!!!

But, time for my FAVORITE PART….ANALYSIS!!!

DISCLAIMER: some things stated as fact haven’t been said in the blog/arent canon to the au itself, just my animation/theories/interpretation, cause i’m silly and headcanoning :3

TITLE:

The proper title ive given this is “To You” which means 2 different and very vague things. What happened to you? and sending a message like “this is To You”.

In that case, “you” is whichever version of Papyrus/Wingdings/Gaster you want- Its not exactly clear which version of him means “you” which is kinda the point. The lines blur together sometimes…

But yeah, Gaster/crazy WD sends messages TOO himself so they’re “To You”

CONTEXT

Wingdings has JUST turned himself into Gaster. Ignore how impossible Sans interacting with him in this moment is, and just hear me out on the angst possibilities-

SCENE 1

As Sans approaches the mess- Gaster is encased in shadow, and looks at him. Expression not telling much- just looking blankly. Doesn’t even look like he’s alive… just… moving. Also the eye thats open, is just a slit. because- perspective. BUT I also had fun putting that there and going hehehehe it looks like WD/Papyrus’ eye

Sans approaches, and getting engulfed in the shadow, leaving the light.

His expression here was REALLY fun and REALLY hard to draw. Angry? maybe. stunned and terrified? DEFINITELY.

In this context (that doesn’t have a lot to go off of with the comics, YET) Sans knows that this was all very much intentional. He absolutely does not want to be angry, and is certainly only feeling it subconsciously.

But… he wanted so badly to understand, and enter his brother world. But now, Sans is just… Baffled. Hes like “what the fuck did you do???”

SCENE 2

Gaster continues to look blank. Looking up at Sans as he approaches, encasing him in even more shadow.

Sans’ hand reaches to Gasters face. From Sans’ perspective, his intentions are like checking for a pulse. Not literally ofc cause pulses arent on our face- but like, feeling for him. For a sign that something is there. (It’s also meant to be something motherly/comforting)

But then, Gaster leans into the touch, somewhat reciprocating this wordless “ive got you” gesture. That’s what makes Sans go from Terrified to just purely grief stricken. His brother is still alive. And he loves him.

But this form wont last for long…For universe fixing screw ups reasons :D 👍

SCENE 3

Gaster then opens his eyes, revealing hes even still got eye lights available for him. Thats what just SHATTERS the dam, and Sans embraces him suddenly.

SCENE(S) 4

Then, the “reset” happens, Gaster is gone, and Papyrus appears in place of Wingdings in his bed.

Nothing is boiling to add to a “frozen in terror” feeling!

Now- drawing all of the differences between the past and present rooms. DESTROYED ME. i HAD SO MUCH FUN BUT I ALSO CRIED 😭 There are no thank-you letters to santa, no racecar bed, no silly bone painting, no action figures, just BORING

I also wanted to keep everything monochromatic, so ofc we’ve got black and white for the void/Gaster, blue for Sans, red for Papyrus, and purple for Sans and Papyrus together.

The tape recorder and lab coat are still greyscale though cause Wingdings still has SOME of his stuff lying around. But the tapes are indecipherable, and Papyrus threw out that lab coat the first chance he got. It gave him the absolute worst feeling, worse than anything he’s ever experienced.

Something I also really enjoy is the fact that the dress shirts were still technically Wingdings’ but they’re red for Papyrus. The lab coat is the only real WINGDINGS thing that Papyrus wants absolutely no part in. Some things that were Wingdings’ are now Papyrus’ cause :D👍

in place of the bone painting are just family photos that I also have extra to say about. Someday I wanna make a comic of what happened to those/what I think would happen to em.

One day Papyrus is like “HEY UH- SANS! THESE PHOTOS! I DON’T LIKE LOOKING AT THEM! CAN WE NOT!?” Aka, he doesn’t remember these things happening/these photos being taken… BUT THEYRE PHOTOS OF HIM.

So he just feels really uncomfortable looking at memories he should reasonably remember, but doesn’t at all- and Sans gets that. But he keeps em in his drawer. Then! they hung up the bone thing in place of it cause SILLY!

But the family photos, I still had fun with. From left to right theyre a photo of Semi with the twins, the twins as baby bones, then as slightly older kids, then WDs graduation photo.

CONCLUSION!

This entire thing was so much fun, and I feel i’ve really grown as an artist over the process of experimenting and not being knocked down by annoying setbacks,

Also, as usual, Works In Progress’ plus extra behind the scenes stuff will be posted shortly after this!! YIPPEEE!!! HAPPY NIGHTMARES!!!!!

OHHHH ALSO EXTRA ART!!!

“AREN’T THEY BEAUTIFUL?”

That silly moment when your clone is really weirdly obsessed with stars and enthusiastically holds your eye sockets open to show you them

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azrielbrainrot · 29 days ago

Text

Baby, You Know That I Miss You

Pairing: Band Member!Azriel x F!Reader

Kinktober 2024: Phone Sex, Guided Masturbation

Description: You miss your boyfriend terribly when you go visit your parents during break. Luckily, he's more than willing to help.

Warnings: Smut, phone sex, guided masturbation, dirty talk

Word Count: ~2k

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Notes: This story is part of my Band AU as well as Kinktober, but you don't have to read their other stories to enjoy this one since it's basically all smut! Also I'm not too sure if this is all that good but we move. Hope you enjoy!

Band AU Masterlist

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

“I didn't know I was going to be so busy all day,” you say with a sigh, happy that you finally get to relax in the comfort of your own bed, “but at least I get to listen to your voice.”

You were a bit sad that you missed a performance, it was the first one you didn't attend since you became official, but because of it your schedules ended up aligning perfectly and you got to talk to him for a while before going to sleep, when you texted him this morning you thought you wouldn't be able to.

Coming home for break, after what happened the last time you were here had been a bit nerve wracking. You didn't know if you would have to run into Eleanor or Parker, and you didn't know how you would react if you did. Luckily, you hadn't seen them, and you found that when your mother mentioned them you didn't really feel anything besides some mild resentment at the way you were treated, all the anger and sadness that just their names evoked a couple months ago had mostly subsided.

If you were being completely honest, forgetting about your childhood best friend had been a lot easier than you thought possible. You were sure the fact that she hurt you so badly that there wouldn't be any possible way to salvage your relationship helped, since it made forgetting her truly the only option, but most of all you had to thank Azriel and your friends, old and new, for it.

The hardest part of being home for these last two weeks ended up being away from Azriel. Yours is still a relatively new relationship, although sometimes it felt like you had known him your entire life, and so it was hard to not be able to see him for so long when you were spending almost all of your free time together. You missed sleeping in his arms, missed watching him and the boys practice, missed the dates at the small café by his apartment you'd found together, the way he held your hand when you went on walks and, Gods, you missed his touch.

“Want me to tell you a story?”

“Anything is fine as long as it's coming from you,” you admit, his deep whispered voice enough to send a gentle warmth traveling through your veins. Azriel hums, something obviously on his mind. “What?”

“You always liked the sound of my voice,” he muses, letting the words flow from his lips slowly but confidently, knowing it would get a reaction out of you and prove his point.

“Well, yes but that's normal.” You try to keep an indifferent tone, but you know he can easily hear through it. “You're a singer for a reason.”

“We both know it's not just that,” he murmurs, and you can almost hear the smirk growing on his lips, can picture the confident yet alluringly attractive look that always falls over his face when he knows he's affecting you, one that unfortunately only makes it worse. You find yourself squeezing your thighs together, wishing he was right next to you instead of in a different city, so you could kiss that smirk off his lips and let him show you all the different ways he can affect you.

“Don't do that,” you breathe out, almost pleadingly, every hint of sleepiness escaping your body.

“Do what, princess?”

“That,” you say a bit too loudly, calming down and lowering your voice when you add, “not when I'm three hours away.”

Azriel sighs, a heavy sound coming from deep in his chest, needing to feel your hands on him as much as you do. If you were in your apartment instead of at your parent's house, you might have gotten out of bed and made your way to his house with how needy you were starting to feel.

“It's a shame that I can't sit you on my lap right now and whisper every dirty little thing I want to do in your ear.” Truly a shame, you think as you press your legs together. “But we can try something else.”

“Try what?”

“Just want you to do as I say,” he explains, desire dripping on every word. You bite your lip, his intentions now crystal clear in your mind. This wasn't something you had ever done or even considered, but you feel a shiver of excitement run down your spine at just the thought. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yes,” you breathe out, heart beating wildly behind your ribcage as you hear the rustle of sheets through the speaker.

“Are you wearing my shirt?”

You let out a soft chuckle before answering unashamedly, “Yes.” You had taken to stealing some of his shirts to sleep or wear around your house before you even started dating, though stealing was probably the wrong choice of words seeing as he either let you or even gave you some of them himself. His shirts were not only comfortable but they also smelled like him so they quickly replaced your own old shirts you used to wear to sleep before.

Azriel lets out a hum, one that sounds more like a moan, probably lost in the thought of you touching yourself while wearing his shirt before he gathers himself and starts, “Want you to run your hand over your stomach, feel how warm and soft your skin is.” Your hands follow his commands easily, mimicking the way he caresses your skin instinctively, desire growing within you with every brush of your fingers.

“Now push your panties to the side,” he continued, voice getting deeper as he spoke through a clenched jaw, his own hand likely occupied as well, “tell me what you find.”

You knew what you'd find even before your hand traveled down to do as he said, a sigh escaping you all the same when your fingers dive between your folds, feeling just how soaked you were, a string connecting them to your cunt when you pull away.

“Are you wet for me?” The pleasure was obvious in his voice, and you had no doubt in your mind that he was stroking his cock as he spoke, the thought making your cunt clench around nothing.

“Yes,” you breathe out, nodding along even though he can't see you, swirling your fingers around and making a mess of yourself, careful to avoid your clit and entrance no matter how bad you need to take some of the edge off, waiting for him.

“Good,” he moans out, “Fuck, you're so good to me.”

If you closed your eyes, you could picture him laying on his bed, sheets thrown off his body and underwear long since discarded to the side, hand stroking his thick cock slowly, moving up and down as he also imagined what you looked like as you followed his orders, and wished it was your hand instead of his own.

“Now take your panties off,” he says after a moment, waiting patiently as he hears you shimmy them off your legs, sighing as you spread your thighs and bend your knee before letting him know he could continue. “Take two of your fingers into your mouth.”

“Azriel-”

“Need you to get them nice and wet for me.”

A whimper escapes you as memories of him saying these exact words rush into your mind. He loved seeing your mouth stuffed with his fingers, your tongue swirling around them as you looked up at him through your eyelashes. You almost tell him you didn't need to get them any wetter, your cunt was quite literally dripping, but you do as he says anyway, tasting yourself on your own fingers, pretending they were his instead, making a show of sucking on them and pulling them out with a pop just so you could hear the groan he lets out, a tremble running through your body at the delicious sound.

“Done?”

“Yeah,” you muse, entirely too proud of yourself for managing to get under his skin so easily.

“Alright,” he rasps, “Now roll them around your clit slowly, pretend they're mine.” You can't help the whimper of his name, your fingers circling your clit just like he said, closing your eyes and pretending it was his rough fingers instead of yours.

“Good girl,” he chuckles, “don't even gotta tell you to moan my name.”

“I need to be quiet though,” you remind him, remind yourself. If it was simply your roommate in the room down the hall it would only be a bit embarrassing, but it's your parents instead and them hearing you would be nothing short of mortifying.

“Such a shame,” he muses, the smirk almost audible on his voice. “You always sound so pretty for me, saying my name in that sweet breathy, fucked out voice of yours.”

“Azriel,” you whine, putting more pressure behind your fingers, - you really didn't think you needed much more to cum, especially if he kept whispering in your ear like that, - breathy, quiet moans pushing past your lips despite your warning.

“Like that,” he lets out between pants, fist tightening around his cock as well, “Just like that.”

“Keep talking, Az,” you murmur, your heart stuttering in your chest with every harsh breath you hear through the speaker, wanting to hear it in his voice. “You sound pretty too.”

Azriel only hums, staying quiet for a moment longer before letting out a groan. You hear his head knock softly against his headboard as he leans back, and briefly wonder if he could hear the sinful noises your cunt was making every time your fingers moved.

“Fuck, princess. You have no idea how much I wish I could taste you right now.” You did actually, you were burning with the same need. “Wanna bury my face in that sweet pussy of yours, make you cum on my tongue over and over again until you're all I can taste.”

The moan that pushes past your lips is entirely too loud for the quietness in your house, but you can't help it as the picture he paints assaults your mind. You're reminded of the feeling of his tongue against you, lapping up at your cunt until you're shaking with pleasure under him. Gods, you couldn't wait until you saw him again next weekend.

“Wanna taste you too,” you confess, speeding up your movements, mouth watering at the thought.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Think I could cum just thinking about you choking on my cock, trying to take all of me down that tight throat of yours.” Closing your eyes and biting your lip, you do your best to keep as quiet as you can, his filthy words sinking into your bloodstream. It felt like you were on fire even though you had long since kicked your sheets off your body, - you didn't think it was possible to be this turned on alone in your room.

“Fuck,” he chuckles, a ridiculously attractive sound, “I think I might.”

“Azriel, I'm-”

“Close?”

“So close,” you pant, right on the edge, your hand moving incessantly, goosebumps running through your skin.

“I'm right there with you,” he murmurs, “Cum for me, princess. Let me hear you.”

You let yourself fall as soon as he finishes speaking, mouth falling open in a silent scream as you're hit with wave after wave of pleasure, a few whines of his name pushing past your lips despite your efforts to keep quiet, the praises he lets out going straight to your head.

Azriel cums not soon after, his own pants and muffled moans of your name echoing through the speaker as you're coming down, making you feel all tingly knowing he just came as hard as you did without you ever touching him, and still your name was on his lips. It's unfair the way this man makes you feel, even when he's so far away from you.

“I decided I'm going to lock us in your room when I get back,” you speak up after you take a deep breath, only half joking.

“Is that so?”

“Mhm,” you continue, wiping your hand on your discarded panties, cringing softly at the feeling, knowing you have to get up and clean yourself up properly. “You're mine for the entire weekend.”

“You can lock us in for as long as you like,” he murmurs, “I'm all yours.”

#azriel x reader #azriel smut #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel fic #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #acotar smut #acotar kinktober

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igbylicious · 22 days ago

Text

whichever way [woosan x reader] epilogue

pairing: woosan x f reader

rating: 18+

genre: smut, fluff-ish, neighbours au, FWB to QPR

ch. summary: together you make a new start.

wc: 2.6k

ch. warnings: no explicit content but there is some conversation about sex, i teared up while writing this; does that count as a warning?

a/n: features a soft-bodied, aromantic reader who uses she/her pronouns.

a/n²: what a fucking time we live in. take good care ♡

masterlist. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, epilogue

“I think these are the last ones,” Wooyoung says, patting the stack of boxes next to him. “Did we get everything from your side?”

“Yeah, we emptied that out yesterday,” you say. “This… this is it.”

San hums thoughtfully, putting an arm around each of you. “End of an era isn’t it?”

The three of you stand by the doorway to the living area, looking over an empty, forlorn apartment.

Depressingly bare walls, furniture replaced by nostalgia. It doesn’t even look like anyone ever stayed here at all. The only concrete proof of your life here is the kitchen cabinet’s crooked door, busted when San hit his head so hard you’d worried he fractured his skull.

Even now, face to face with the empty room, it feels surreal to leave it all behind. No more paper-thin walls, no clumsily bumping into each other in the cramped kitchenette, no more sneaking through the building’s hallway in the early mornings or late nights.

Suddenly every small inconvenience is filtered through the rose-coloured lens of sentimentality, like they’re something to be treasured. Maybe they are. The little imperfections that brought texture to the flavourful sweetness of everything good.

All three of you take a moment, keenly aware you’re saying goodbye to the space where you collided into them; collided, and then intertwined. There’s a lot here to be grateful for.

Wooyoung is the one to break the spell. He nods his head with a big sigh, like he's bracing himself. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” you say, matching his sigh. “Just one more thing left to do here, right?”

San and Wooyoung divide the boxes between them; you are already holding a large flower bouquet. It’s time for your final goodbye in this building.

Together, you take the elevator down one floor, then walk over to the apartment placed directly underneath yours. You ring the doorbell, and it does not take long before Mrs Yoon opens the door.

“Oh? Oh! It’s you kids!” The crinkles in her face deepen into a wide smile, and she curiously eyes the boxes. “Today is the big day then, hm?”

San bows his head politely. “We’re officially moved out, yes,” he says, a tinge of red across his cheeks. “Um. Sorry for all the trouble we’ve caused.”

“Nonsense,” she scolds. “No trouble at all, I’m sad to see you go. It’ll be so quiet around here without you!”

The redness on San’s face intensifies but Wooyoung just giggles, immune to Mrs Yoon’s light teasing. “Still, we didn’t want to go without getting you a little something,” Wooyoung says, “a thank you for putting up with us!”

“Ahh, Wooyoungie, you shouldn’t have!” Mrs Yoon coos adoringly over him like he’s her favourite grandson, lovingly pinching his cheeks. She lets out a small gasp of surprise when you hand the flowers over to her. “These are for me? Really?”

“Really,” you say. “It’s the least we could do!”

The bouquet looks comically huge in her tiny arms, almost drowning her in camellias and hydrangeas; but Mrs Yoon just beams with delight, taking a deep whiff of the sweet aromas. Even with the flowers, she still manages to reach for your cheek, patting it in gratitude.

“Wishing you and your friends all the best in your new home, sweetie,” she says warmly. “Feel free to drop by if you’re ever back in the neighbourhood.”

“We will, Mrs Yoon,” you promise, a pleasant glow in your chest at the word ‘friends’. “Thank you for looking out for us.”

The three of you part ways with Mrs Yoon, regretfully declining an invitation to come inside for a cup of tea. Your new home waits for you.

The new apartment is not too far from the old place, just a short ride away. Wooyoung is driving the car that Yunho was gracious enough to lend you, and you’re next to him in the front seat, his hand resting casually on your thigh. San is behind you, leaned forward with his chin on the backrest while he sweetly hums along to some romantic pop-song on the radio.

You bask in the warm glow of sunlight filtering through the window, smiling at San’s smooth voice while your hand rests on top of Wooyoung’s. It’s easy, it’s comfortable. Outside the car, your surroundings slowly grow less and less familiar, though you know that’ll come with time. You look forward to it.

Finally you reach the compex’s underground parking lot where Wooyoung neatly parks Yunho’s car. You unload the boxes, and find the elevators after a brief moment of disorientation.

You’re not on the top floor this time, but this building is taller so you’re still up higher than before. Finally you exit the elevator, and nostalgia is pushed back in favour of excitement as you walk over to your front door. One single door, for all three of you.

(Of course, you practically lived together already anyway, but it still feels different like this. More solid. Words and promises of long-term commitment transformed into tangible fact.)

You type in the freshly memorised code into the keypad, and the door opens.

The apartment is bigger and nicer than your old place; it’d be far too expensive for you alone, but that’s the practical benefit of splitting rent three ways. It’s still a mess, of course, unpacked boxes all over the place, but already you can see glimpses what it’s going to be, the home you’ll make out of this cluttered chaos.

Already there’s a small bustle of friends moving around the place, helping you to settle in. Even Hongjoong took time off, standing in the (significantly larger) kitchenette with a puzzled expression as he goes through one of the boxes.

You make a beeline towards him, and Hongjoong grins as you approach, making a show of groaning in annoyance when you lay a bear-hug on him.

“What kind of highbrow culinary types did you move in with? I don’t even know what half of these are,” he sighs, toying with a basic garlic press as he glances at the wide array of appliances strewn on the kitchen island. “Makes me feel like I’m not adulting right.”

“It’s alright, not all of us can be kitchen princesses. That’s Wooyoung’s purview,” you joke.

Hongjoong snorts. “Is that your way of saying you also don’t know what half of these are?”

“Pff, don’t lump me in with you. I know at least three quarters of them.”

“Wow, impressive! Let me know when you earn your first Michelin Star.”

He grins when you playfully elbow him in the side, and together you unpack the rest of the box, enjoying the bustle of activity around you.

A few people are walking back and forth, sorting out boxes and putting them in the right place. Seonghwa and Yeosang have taken up most of the floorspace to assemble a large bookcase, looking somewhat bamboozled by the instructions. San is setting out Byeol’s things already, even though she’ll stay at his sister’s as a guest until you’re all settled in.

He wrestles with putting her climbing tree back together when a sudden flash of light distracts him; Wooyoung has grabbed his camera. To do a little documenting of the event, he claims.

“Wooyoung-ssi,” Yeosang says pointedly, “aren’t you just avoiding having to do any real work?”

“Come on, it’s important to save some memories of today!” Wooyoung says enthusiastically, utterly undeterred by his oldest friend’s scepticism. Instead he snaps a quick shot of Yeosang instead, who instantly shields his face. This only escalates into Wooyoung trying to take a selfie with Yeosang, which escalates into him trying to land a smooch on Yeosang’s cheek.

You watch their shenanigans with a wide, bright smile, and Hongjoong watches you with a thoughtful expression in turn.

“So…” he says in a slow drawl. “What was that you once told me? That you got nothing ‘involved’ going on with these guys?”

Heat flares up on your face. “Shut up,” you mumble, embarrassed at the reminder of how deeply in denial you used to be. Let’s face it; San and Wooyoung had firmly pulled you into their orbit from the very start.

Hongjoong chuckles and pats your shoulder. “It’s fine. I’m just glad you were right about the most important thing.”

You give him a confused look. “?”

His eyes soften, a crooked smile on his face. “That I didn’t have to worry about you.”

You swallow thickly, a sudden lump in your throat at his sincerity. “Yeah? Well don’t think that means you’re off the hook for our irregularly scheduled videocalls,” you joke awkwardly, prodding him in the side again. “It’s not like the guys replaced you or something. I still want my bestie too.”

“Good!” he chuckles. “Anyway, they couldn’t if they tried. I’m pretty irreplaceable.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” you laugh, whapping him on the shoulder.

You try to continue unpacking the kitchen supplies; but you soon get distracted when Yunho struggles to carry a gigantic potted plant, and you realise he’s about to set it down in the living area.

“Yunho wait, hang on! That goes outside!”

You abandon Hongjoong to guide Yunho out to the modestly sized balcony.

“Here, here,” you usher him to a corner, where the plant will provide some nice shade and privacy.

Yunho sighs in relief when he can set the heavy pot down, stretching his back with a low groan as he stands upright again. He looks around curiously, looking around the balcony. It’s not much, with just some old garden furniture that Wooyoung’s parents ‘donated’ to you, but the plant makes a good start to cosy it up properly.

“Huh. Hadn’t been out here yet,” he says, putting his hands on the metal railing to lean forward and take in the view. “It’s nice.”

Your eyes get momentarily distracted by how his long fingers curl around the handrail, but then you tear your gaze away and look out over the neighbourhood together. It’s mostly other apartment complexes, but there’s a big park with plenty of greenery and a pond nearby too, next to a busy kids’ playground.

“Yeah,” you agree with a wistful smile. “Really nice.”

You glance at Yunho again. All the initial awkwardness between you has faded by now; San, Wooyoung and him were eager to make up for lost time, so he’s been around quite a bit. You don’t mind. You like Yunho.

(Not just because he has distracting hands. He’s every bit as funny and dependable as your first impression led you to believe. It didn’t take long for you to grow just as fond of Yunho as the guys are.)

“And if you think about it, I got you to thank for it all!” you joke, grinning at Yunho. “Really, if you hadn’t played cupid, I wouldn’t have ended up here.”

Yunho blinks in confusion. “Cupid?”

“Yeah? You set San and Wooyoung up, right? San told me you played matchmaker.”

“……Huh. That is what San thinks I was doing?” He lets out an awkward, breathy chuckle, rubbing the back of his head.

“You weren’t?” You frown at Yunho. “But you introduced them, right?”

“Y-Yeah, but— Never mind,” he says, his ears going red. “It’s not important.”

You give him a stubborn look. “Um. No. No, you can’t leave me hanging there. What’s not important?”

Yunho sees the look in your eyes, and after a long moment he gives a slow nod and straightens up. He glances at the open balcony door, but nobody inside is paying you any particular mind.

He leans forward, conspiratorially, dropping his voice low. The secrecy is causing your heart to bump faster in your chest; what the hell happened?

“Okay so, uh. No, I didn’t set them up,” Yunho says. “Sure, I’m really happy that it worked out so well for them, but… no, I just meant to test the waters for a bit, to see if things clicked between us, and then… I could see if they were interest in doing… other stuff together.”

“Stuff?” you ask — but the redness of Yunho’s ears deepens, and a lightbulb turns on in your head. “Wait,” you hiss, lowering your own voice as you lean even closer to him. “You introduced them to have a threesome? And they started dating instead??”

“Basically, yeah!” he chuckles awkwardly. “And really, it’s no big deal, I’m happy to see my friends happy. I saw the way they hit it off, figured I’d give them some space to figure things out. Thought I could always pitch the idea later — well, until Wooyoung told me San wanted to be monogamous.”

“Oh god,” you say, growing more and more aghast as your brain works overtime, linking up all the dots Yunho is throwing at you. “And then San asked you for advice about me.”

“Yeah, I’ll admit it — that one stung!” he laughs, about five percent pained. The last lingering hints of a grudge still holding on.

“I bet it did, fuck I’m so sorry—”

“Not your fault,” Yunho says, patting your shoulder with a reassuring smile.

You puff out a flustered burst of air, and shake off your embarrassment. Yeah, he’s right. This isn’t your fault. “…Is it weird that I’m kind of offended on your behalf?” you say with an awkward grin (god this is all so awkward). “Like, I know San and Wooyoung can be a bit oblivious, especially when they get stuck in each other’s little lovestruck tunnel vision, but seriously? They never realised??”

“Eh,” Yunho shrugs. “It’s on me too, I misjudged. Clearly shouldn’t have taken the subtle approach.”

You snort. “Okay yeah, maybe it’s a little on you too. The subtle approach? For those two?”

“Hey! Whatcha talking about?” San says out of nowhere, poking his head around the doorway like a devil who has belatedly realised someone spoke of him. “Thought I heard my name!”

You freeze instantly and fumble for an answer. “Uuhhhhhhh…”

Wooyoung’s head pokes out from behind San’s broad shoulders. “Hm? Are you guys gossiping about us?”

“Umm…………”

But Yunho just lets out a dry chuckle, unfazed by the interruption. “Yeah, actually,” he says with an easygoing smile. “I was just telling her that I never meant to play matchmaker for you two.”

“You didn’t?” San asks in surprise. “I thought…”

“I know,” Yunho interrupts him, not unkindly. “But no, I was trying to set us for a threesome.”

A deep, deep silence falls that strikes even Wooyoung.

He’s just staring at Yunho wide-eyed, the gears in his head ground to a complete halt. San has gone full crimson in the cheeks, putting Yunho’s faintly red ears to shame.

“What?” Yunho laughs when he sees your surprised face. “You said it yourself; no room for subtlety with these two. It was bound to come out sometime anyway. No time like the present.”

“You know what? Fair,” you say, relaxing back into a laugh of your own.

“W-wait, you what??” San finally stammers out.

Yunho casually leans his side against the balcony railing, shrugging at San. “Is it really that big a surprise, coming from me?”

Wooyoung’s shock has slowly morphed into a thoughtful expression as the gears in his head come back into motion. Keen interest shines in his eyes as he looks back-and-forth from San’s flustered blush to you and Yunho, grinning at each other.

“So uh,” Wooyoung says, mischief creeping into the curve of his crooked smile, “…is having sex together still on the table?”

final notes: yes, i am planning to do a one-shot sequel lol. you are getting that yunwoosan foursome smut scene <3 originally it was part of the epilogue, but i decided it works better as its own, separate thing

but this still is the end of the main series, the story of Woosan & reader coming together, and i am a big ball of emotion over it asdkjdsajk. thankyou for reading my fic, and for all the incredibly kind words i’ve received; this was a very special, personal project to me, and i hope it gave you some good times ♡

#igby’s writing #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez fic #woosan smut #woosan x reader #san smut #san x reader #wooyoung smut #wooyoung x reader #ateez hard hours #kpop smut #ateez scenarios #san imagines #wooyoung imagines #san scenarios #wooyoung scenarios

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love-belle · 1 year ago

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good riddance !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which their post break-up era is them pretending that they weren't each other's everything.

for when you're too hurt to regret anything. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // daniel ricciardo x fem!reader

warnings - language

author's note - hello!!! i hope u like this one!!! thank u so much for reading, i love you <3 just a note, that i will probably not be posting next week bc i have exams but i will be active here so ! if u message me, i'll probably reply, i hope so anyways lol <3

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≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

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8,626 comments

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≡;- ꒰ °text messages ꒱

kelly's bf 👎 - max ; cat stealer ❌ - y/n

cat stealer ❌ : max

kelly's bf 👎 : what

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kelly's bf 👎 : will do

seen 1m ago

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cat stealer ❌ : u called me best friend twice omg

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kelly's bf 👎 : this is why daniel broke up with you

cat stealer ❌ : TOO SOON

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

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danielricciardo ignorance doesn't suit you

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yourusername honey everything suits me ❤️

tagged danielricciardo

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togenabi · 1 year ago

Text

the promised knight

knight!roronoa zoro x princess!reader

♡— after a lifetime apart, zoro finds his way back to you

word count♡— 8.7k (screams into the void)

genre♡— royalty au, childhood friends to strangers to lovers, slow burn bc a lot of things happen, but there's fluff bc I need there to be

content notes♡— fem!reader wears dresses, mentions of death and grief, very plot heavy, kuina and mihawk are here, canon-typical violence, original side characters, no use of y/n, proofread(ish), inaccurate royalty things, inaccurate chemistry/poisons/acids, yes I got the name florentia from ill be the matriarch

also on♡— ao3

author's note♡— quick explanation!: a regent has no right to the throne, they're just someone stepping in temporarily while the next monarch is absent or unable to execute their powers. happy reading!!

Your happiest years were when everyone was together.

Those were the days you’d sneak out of your lessons to go play in the training grounds. You’d find your best friends arguing about something or other, fighting with wooden swords and chasing each other around.

Kuina and Zoro did their best to include you in whatever game they were playing. You found it all good fun, even if you were mostly being rescued or hidden away somewhere. The proud smiles on their faces when they saved you always made the wait for them worth it.

“Why do I have to play the bad guy?” A young Zoro whines, frowning deeply with shoulders slumped. His wooden sword hangs lazily in his hand, pointed to the ground.

Opposite him, Kuina’s blade was up, stable and correct with proper posture. “Because we agreed I would save the princess today!”

You remember sending Zoro a small smile, trying to reassure him, “You can save me next time, Zoro. I promise.”

Zoro complained, but gave his all acting as a bandit out to rob you. You and Kuina would run into the meadow—hands held in each other’s—squealing and laughing. You’d always end up collapsed together; among the grass and the flowers. They would cheer and scream into the sky, happy that the great knights protected their princess once again.

But that same meadow is now covered with a blanket of melancholy. The colors aren’t as vibrant as they were back then. Flowers no longer bloom like they did. The children’s laughter has been replaced by a deafening silence.

Everything changed when Kuina died.

She was hit by a stray arrow, they said. They called it a tragic accident.

More sadness only seemed to follow after she was gone. Zoro left without a word, abandoning his training, and you along with it. Your mother, Queen Florentia, passed due to an illness a few months after that. In a blink of an eye, you lost everything back then.

The large doors to your chambers slam shut, breaking you from your train of thought. The thud echoes into every corner before fading into noiselessness once more.

A maid rushes in, completely out of breath and practically stumbling towards you. “Your Highness!” She gasps. Waving a hand, you gesture for her to calm down.

“Selma,” You pour her some water in a glass. It’s strange to see your personal maid so distressed. “What did you find?”

Practically inhaling the water, she places a hand over her heart before explaining, “You were right, Your Ladyship. The commander informed me that several knights had poison hidden in their quarters.”

Her eyes trail to the glass she’s holding, then to the pitcher. Selma’s face becomes appalled as it sinks in that you had poured her a drink. You cut her off before she can make a fuss about it.

“Never mind all that.” There are more pressing matters than decorum right now. “What else did Mihawk say? Have the knights been apprehended?”

“No, my Lady.” Selma retrieves a transparent vial from her pocket. “The commander said there's a chance the poisons were planted. Trustworthy men could have been framed… He discourages you from trusting any of them at all.”

The vial is small, barely larger than your thumb. To an untrained eye, it looks like nothing is there. You hold it up to the window, letting the sun’s setting rays shine through the glass.

There it is. A near-invisible, lavender sheen in liquid. The queen regent’s signature poison.

“Damn it all.” You sigh, falling into an armchair.

It’s common knowledge that most of the people are loyal to Queen Regent Cassiopeia. Not to you, the rightful heir to the throne.

Ever since she took the position after your mother’s death, she’s been doing everything in her power to discredit you. Though she's not in the official line of succession, her goal is to become queen by any means necessary.

You’ve only been able to hold on for so long because there are still people loyal to your mother, like Commander Mihawk. However, it will take only one slip up for your standing to collapse. Cassiopeia knows this, and you suspect that she plans to completely ruin you at the upcoming knighting ceremony.

On a paneled wall in your room, encased in an ornate golden frame, hangs a portrait of Queen Florentia. The gold reminds you of the gilded dagger she gave you as a child.

Subconsciously, your hand moves to rest over your pocket; where the dagger is hidden under your skirt. What would your mother have done in this situation?

You scan the painting as if the image would respond. It doesn’t, but your eyes settle on the necklace she’s wearing. It was her most prized possession, and she had promised to give it to you when you were older, but it’s sadly lost to time.

The vial grows heavy in your fist. Your mother would stop at nothing until Cassiopeia is defeated, so that’s what you’ll set out to do.

“Selma, get me some ink and parchment.” You order, feeling more determined. “I have a plan.”

Dracule Mihawk burned the note as soon as he finished reading it. Your idea was brilliant, if only a little complicated to execute.

Cassiopeia will demand you choose a personal knight during the ceremony. Assuming all the knights are loyal to the queen regent, none of them would be a safe choice.

So, you asked Mihawk to hire a skilled fighter to pose as a knight. Someone whose loyalty cannot be bought. Immediately, he knew who to recruit. Though he warned you that you might not find the man… agreeable.

“I don’t care.” You replied stubbornly. “I can’t afford to be picky. Just make sure that he won’t kill me in my sleep.”

Mihawk muses that he might be killed by you in his sleep. Because in a shady, run-down tavern, he sits beside a familiar green-haired swordsman nursing a drink at the bar.

“Fancy seeing you here, commander.” Zoro spits out the title in disgust.

“It seems that some things never change.” Mihawk hums. “You’re still in the same place as you were when we last fought.”

“And your legend ends with you kissing up to that false queen.” Disappointment practically drips from his tone.

“And here you are,” There’s an amused glint in the knight commander’s eye. “...still not able to beat me, Roronoa Zoro.”

Zoro’s jaw clenches in frustration. He breathes out deeply, “What do you want, old man?”

“Join my knights.”

Scoffing, Zoro can’t believe his ears. Is this guy serious? “I’m no knight. Not anymore.”

“Are you sure about that?” Mihawk tests. “The princess needs someone not easily dissuaded.”

At the mention of you, Zoro freezes. He squints at the commander as it dawns on him, “You don’t serve that Cassiopeia bitch.”

“Obviously.”

“But why did you become commander only after Queen Florentia died?” Zoro asks. “Everyone thought you were bought off.”

“That’s besides the point.” Mihawk hisses. “I know you’ve been wanting to make it up to the princess. I’m giving you a chance to do that on a silver platter.”

Zoro stays quiet, eyes watching the alcohol ripple in his glass. He’s not drunk enough for this discussion. And he meant what he said, that he’s not a knight. That dream died with Kuina, and he chose to pursue less honorable ways to become stronger.

It’s funny how Mihawk, who was an outlaw, traded his jacket for a suit of armor. And now, he's trying to act righteous. But some things are just—

“It’s not too late to change things.” Mihawk attempts to persuade him, calmer this time. “Something tells me you’ll regret it if you don’t.”

Shaking his head, Zoro can’t believe this man is talking like he knows him. “What do you know about regret?”

When the commander doesn’t respond, Zoro turns to see Mihawk’s face, a grave expression marks his features.

“I know far too much, I’m afraid.”

Zoro studies him for a moment longer, curious as to what he meant—but he doesn’t dare ask. Only an idiot would test Dracule Mihawk.

This master swordsman, whom he’s looked up to for so many years, has changed drastically. Perhaps everyone has. It makes Zoro wonder how much you might’ve changed in the years he’s been gone.

You. He’s—there’s so much he wants to say. So much he wants to ask… but does he have the right to?

Who is he kidding? He doesn’t.

And yet, Zoro can’t help but wonder if he passes on this opportunity and regrets it, would he spend the rest of his life wishing he could make up for it?

After downing his drink, Zoro slams the glass on the bar counter.

“What do I need to do?”

Selma assists you with your hair and makeup on the day of the ceremony. She’s practically buzzing as she flutters around you. It’s nice that she’s still enthusiastic about things like these, even when dangers lurk in the shadows.

“You look stunning, Your Ladyship!” She gushes, adjusting the different layers of your dress so that it falls on you perfectly. “A vision, you are. Just like Queen Florentia.”

“Thank you.” You respond gratefully, despite not feeling as sure and confident as your mother was. Would that change, if you were to become queen?

A knock sounds on your door. Selma rushes to answer it, and lets Mihawk into your chambers. He steps in, but remains by the entryway.

“You look lovely, princess.” The commander bows to you in greeting. “I was instructed to escort you once you’re ready.”

Nodding, you approach him and hold onto his arm. “Let us be on our way.”

Keeping your face carefully neutral, you whisper to Mihawk under your breath, “Will you really not let me know the knight’s name? How am I supposed to know who to appoint?”

“You’ll know.” Mihawk pats your hand reassuringly. “Without a doubt, you’ll know. I just hope you’re not too hard on him.”

You side-eye him. “He’s not a convict or something, is he?”

Mihawk presses his mouth shut. This bastard, is he trying not to laugh? “You might actually prefer a convict over him.”

That pulls a frown out of you that you cannot contain. What on earth is that supposed to mean? Is the man that bad? How are you supposed to mentally prepare with such vague warnings?

All thoughts of the mystery knight fade into the back of your mind, however, when you and Mihawk make your entrance at the throne room.

The extravagant hall is decorated to the nines. Flags of different family crests hang from the ceiling. Flowers bloom at every window sill. You smile at it all, at your people—but it fails to reach your eyes. It’s difficult to truly smile when Cassiopeia stands dangerously close to your mother’s throne.

You curtsy when you reach the steps, one hand still on Mihawk’s arm as the fabric of your skirt dips onto the floor. You hear murmurs of approval from the ministers in the front row, pleased to see the good relationship between the princess and queen regent.

But they don’t see through your gloves, how your grip on your skirt is tense and far too tight. They don’t see how Cassiopeia’s smile is truly a smirk when you lower your head to her.

“Lovely to have you here, darling.” She says, and you fight the urge to laugh. ‘Lovely’ would be if she accepted her place and let go of her greed.

Mihawk guides you to the smaller throne on the left. This has been your seat since you were born. If Cassiopeia had her way, it would be your seat until the end of your days.

She glides to the center of the dais, the train of her excessive dress flows like a river after her. She stands; graceful, powerful and smiling—but she will never be happy until she can sit on the throne and wear your mother’s crown.

Whatever it takes, you will find a way to stop her.

“Welcome to the long-awaited knighting ceremony.” Cassiopeia addresses the audience. “It is an honor to have the kingdom’s finest pledge to serve and protect us.”

The ceremony proceeds to speeches from several dignitaries. Mihawk delivers a short yet intense declamation about the knightage being the greatest honor; and hands the queen regent an elaborate, bejeweled sword.

“These warriors before us today are hereby called forward to receive Knighthood. The kingdom will forever be grateful for your service.” Cassiopeia proclaims.

Attentively observing the knights lined up, you keep an eye out for the one Mihawk recruited for you. One at a time, Cassiopeia announces their name before tapping their shoulders with the ornamental blade.

You grow restless as the line dwindles. Frustrated, you throw questioning looks at the commander’s direction. He skillfully avoids your gaze. The nerve.

When only about five men are left, you begin to study them all and weigh your options. Perhaps you should pick someone with a smaller build, so that you can have a better chance of escaping? You also spotted someone who appeared clumsy. If you were to outsmart him, your odds of surviving weren’t so bleak.

But then—dramatically, as if in slow motion—the great doors to the throne room opened with a loud, booming sound. Everyone turned as light poured into the hall.

A swordsman makes his entrance. His armor is unassuming, but the three blades at his side demand attention. He wears a helmet over his head, but even after so much time, you’d know those eyes anywhere.

Mihawk was right. You would have preferred a convict—or maybe some rogue, or a thief who would rob you blind. You would have preferred anyone over Roronoa Zoro.

You thought you’d never see him again, but he’s here, marching towards the end of the line. You gape at him, feeling too many emotions all at once. Why is he here? Why now?

Mihawk intercepts Cassiopeia before she can question Zoro’s identity. “Forgive me, queen regent. This young man ran late due to an errand I sent him out on.”

How brilliant of him. Cassiopeia hates unexpected interruptions, but would never express her frustrations openly with so many people watching.

It’s amusing to see her grin and bear it. “That’s… quite alright, commander. I’m glad he made it before the end of the ceremony.”

When only Zoro remains to be appointed, you stand and call for the queen regent’s attention.

“Should he accept, this man shall be my personal knight.” You declare as Zoro’s gaze meets yours.

“What of your decision, knight?” Cassiopeia asks. Zoro nods, and the queen regent’s gaze sharpens. She understands that something is amiss, but passes the decorated blade to you without a word.

Back when you were children, you used to dream of this moment together. Kuina and Zoro would kneel before you on the grass beneath a shining sun, pledging their unwavering loyalty as you tap their shoulders with a stick.

You’re no longer children, but as Zoro kneels before you now, you still feel like a child all the same. Your clothes feel too big. The throne room is too vast; the ceiling too high. The sword is too heavy in your hands as you raise it.

“Roronoa Zoro. I hereby dub thee into the honorable order of knights as my chosen protector.” The blade lands on his shoulder—his right first, then the other. You pray to the stars that no one notices your hold quivering.

“Arise, Sir Zoro, and be recognized.”

You’re no longer children, but you’re still here. Playing a different sort of game.

Mihawk, the wise man that he is, makes himself scarce after the ceremony. You’re left to awkwardly journey back to your chambers with Zoro in tow. He doesn’t speak a word the entire time, but you can feel his eyes burning a hole through the back of your head.

Selma is there when you get back, your usual afternoon refreshments prepared. She approaches you, but stops short when she sees Zoro.

“Leave us.” You tell her. She obeys, albeit reluctantly—looking back over her shoulder more than once as she exits.

After the door closes shut, the outside world feels a million miles away; making the air feel tense. You hastily take off your gloves, the fabric suddenly feels constricting against your skin. Every fiber of your being wants to scream at him.

Roronoa Zoro. Your best friend who had left all those years ago. You don’t even know where to start.

Maybe throwing something at him will make you feel better.

You throw one of your gloves. The fabric hits his chest before falling pathetically.

“Seriously?” Zoro frowns at you, unimpressed. You throw the other one. It meets the same fate.

Grumbling under his breath, Zoro takes off his helmet. It vexes you how you subconsciously hold your breath until you see his face.

You huff skeptically, “Why are you here?”

“Mihawk said you needed help.” He answers with a shrug, causing his armor clink.

After a breath, he speaks cautiously, “I didn’t know things had gotten this bad.”

“How could you have known?” You bite back, “You left, Zoro.”

In a sense, you understand why Mihawk chose him. You asked for someone who wouldn’t kill you in your sleep, and Zoro—at least, the one you knew—definitely wouldn’t.

Some (rational) part of your brain is telling you to keep quiet and accept his help. With Cassiopeia planning a mutiny, time is something you don’t have a lot of.

But your heart still feels angry and hurt when you see his—stupidly handsome—face. The years just had to treat him well, didn’t they?

“I’m thankful for your help,” You admit disgruntledly. “But I’m not happy about it.”

Zoro calls your name. It makes your heart ache a bit, but you hold a hand up to silence him.

“Please, just—I need time to process this, Zoro.” Turning away from the knight, your eyes find the window. The sunset paints the meadow in deep oranges and blues. It doesn’t make you feel any better.

“...We’ll talk tomorrow.” You promise, your tiredness evident from your tone.

Zoro lingers, hesitating. But he doesn’t push you. You hear his armor shift as he bows before he leaves.

That night, Zoro stands guard outside your door. It’s good that no one else is around, it allows him to think in peace. About you.

The last time Zoro saw you, you were a small thing, getting dirt on the edge of your skirt. When he saw you today, sullying even the path you walked on felt like a crime.

He knew you would be mad. He had prepared himself to be yelled at. Maybe he thought you would cry. How much you went through didn’t really sink in until he saw how exhausted you were.

All the things he wanted to say, every apology and excuse, fade into nothing. The first thing he wants to tell you is how thankful he is that you’re still alive. It doesn’t matter that you stay mad at him forever, he’ll protect you for just as long.

Footsteps sound through the dim hallway. Zoro rests a hand on his blades, ready to fight back anyone who poses a threat. A knight he’s not acquainted with approaches, his steps staggering just a bit. The man carries a bottle of alcohol.

“Hey! New guy!” The stranger bellows. “This ’ere is a little something we prepared for ya, since yous didn’t eat dinner with us.” Zoro makes a mental note that they’ve been watching him.

“Take it, take it.” The knight tries to shove the bottle into Zoro’s hands. At the last second, Zoro spots a knife the man hides behind his back.

Quick on his feet, Zoro jabs the man’s neck, causing him to stumble. The knight charges at him, but Zoro effortlessly dodges. Grabbing the knight’s shoulder, Zoro slams his head onto the stone wall.

The bottle clatters to the floor as his opponent collapses, looking up at him in fear. Picking up the glass, Zoro sniffs at its contents. It’s laced with some sort of sedative.

Zoro pries the knight’s jaw open before pouring the drugged beverage into his mouth. The amber liquid spills. The man coughs, gurgling and struggling in vain until he slumps onto the ground.

Observing the bottle inquisitively, Zoro shakes his head before dropping it again. What kind of amateurish attempt was this? Is the queen regent testing his skills?

If anything, all this managed to do was—Zoro starts, turning to your door in alarm—…divert his attention.

Not a second later, he kicks down your door. The elaborately carved wood falls from its hinges, dust clouds billow once it crashes on the previously spotless tiles of your room.

You’re fighting off three large strangers clad in black, a dagger in your hand. Zoro tries not to think about how your eyes softened in relief when they landed on him as he cuts down one of the intruders. Maybe you still care for him a little.

“Took you long enough!” Or not.

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” He grunts back, slashing his sword at someone charging towards you. Zoro only realizes the deeper meaning to his words when you make a face.

“Don’t make being late a habit, Zoro!” Stabbing an intruder’s side, you quip at him, “You and your dramatic entrances, I swear.”

Zoro bites back a grin. He missed you more than you’ll ever know.

After taking down one of the intruders, you hide in your wardrobe as Zoro deals with the rest.

It would be smart to lock the door. Barricade it, so that no one can get to you on the off chance Zoro is defeated. But you don’t. You keep the door ajar to watch everything unfold. The way he fights is a captivating sight.

Look at him. Your knight in lackluster armor. Protecting you like how you always talked about as kids. He’s wielding two blades, one for each perpetrator still standing. You blink in surprise when you make out the third, sheathed blade. Kuina’s.

The more you examine him, the more you see how different he seems. He carries himself more confidently, unlike that boy who whined about roles, responsibilities and challenges.

You also see how gruff he’s become. He’s grown stronger, for sure, but you get the sense that he’s closed himself off from the world. Perhaps the years weren’t as kind to him as you'd thought.

The last intruder lets out a pitiful cry as Zoro knocks him unconscious.

“I’ll tie them up and let Mihawk deal with them in the morning.” Zoro says, pausing to breathe for a moment before dragging the men out by their feet.

Emerging from your wardrobe, you become dismayed at the sight of your room in such a state. “Did you really have to kick down the door?” You groan.

Surprisingly, Zoro blanks, appearing sheepish. “...I didn’t know it would break like that. I just—you should get a damn better door.” He mumbles, heaving the doors up and resting them against the wall outside.

When he comes back from restraining the intruders, he stands before you awkwardly—like he doesn’t know what to do when he’s not fighting or cleaning up bodies.

No one says anything. You both just take each other in, not completely recognizing the person that looks back.

You don’t feel so angry at him anymore. When all’s said and done, everyone has different ways of dealing with grief. Your heart only grows conflicted, wishing you had been there for each other instead of being apart. Goodness knows you could have used someone by your side. You’re sure he did as well.

“I—” Zoro falters. “...I’m glad you’re okay.”

‘Okay’ isn’t how you would describe your current state, but you nod anyway.

“You too, Zoro.”

In a secluded alcove in the royal gardens the following afternoon, you invite Mihawk for tea on the pretense of thanking him for your newly sworn knight. The story that spread was that you would have been done for were it not for Zoro. You don’t want to think about how true that might be.

“The queen regent is furious you were able to secure a knight loyal to you.” Mihawk informs you as he helps himself to some pastries. “We should avoid meeting for a while, lest she suspect anything of me.”

“Alright.” You agree. “Selma also informed me that we can gather statements from mistreated staff.” You show Mihawk a list of names. “If enough of them support us, and if we can prove Cassiopeia orchestrated what happened last night… We can take her down.”

“She will be busy attending a gala this evening. I’ll make sure no one is near her office while she’s gone.” Mihawk turns to Zoro, who is standing guard behind you, sending him a fearsome look. “Those men got a tad too close last night—”

“Mihawk.” You warn him to drop it. He doesn’t.

“Ensure that it doesn’t happen again, young man.”

“It won’t.” Zoro replies icily. The commander only huffs in response.

‘It won't happen.’, he said. But trouble finds you when Zoro steps on a tripwire in Cassiopeia's office. Arrows soar, launching from scattered, hidden contraptions. Zoro shoves you into a bookshelf, covering your frame with his.

“So much for her not finding out we were here.” You remark sarcastically, waiting for him to step back.

But then, as they cage your head, Zoro’s arms tense up. His expression contorts in discomfort.

“...Zoro?” Raising your hands, you cradle the sides of his face.

“Damn arrows,” He growls. “I think they’re poisoned.”

“What?!” You gasp, ducking under his arm to check his back. You find a wound where an arrow grazed his skin. “Of course you get injured when you don’t wear your armor.”

“Why don’t you try sneaking around in that thing, then?” Zoro argues, but you’re startled when the wound begins to bleed.

“We need to get you treated.” Panicking, you grab his arm and pull him along. He doesn’t budge. “Zoro, we should go.”

“No.” He refuses, hissing in pain all the while. “That bitch won’t let us find a way in here again. Let’s just be quick.”

“...Fine.” You cave, still worried, hating that he’s right. “At least stay still, search the desk. I’ll handle everything else.”

Zoro relents, opening every drawer and scanning every document in them. You turn your attention to the shelves, trying to find hidden compartments or anything that looks remotely suspicious.

It's not long before a loud crash makes you wince. Zoro found something.

A panel beneath the desk detaches, revealing an ornate box. Studying it, you hum, “It looks like we’ll need a key.” Zoro unsheathes one of his blades, cutting through the lock until it cracks open.

You shake your head. “Or we could do that, sure.”

However, instead of the nefarious plans or blueprints you were hoping for, you find old papers. All of them yellowing with age.

“It’s your handwriting.” Zoro points out, picking up the first document.

“What?” You lean in, reading the file over his shoulder. It’s a letter written to acknowledge a transfer of money. But the amount is astronomical, and you don’t remember signing anything of the sort.

“Look at the date.” Pointing to the corner, it reads more than ten years ago. And then it clicks, “My mother wrote this.”

“There’s more than one.” Zoro sifts through the papers, counting over ten.

“All of them are addressed to… Shimotsuki Koushirou?” He reads the name slowly. You look at each other, confused. Why would Queen Florentia be sending payments to Kuina’s father?

A tall longcase clock chimes to signal the hour. If you clean up now and review the evidence later, you can make it look like you were never here. You instruct Zoro to pack up the box.

“We should head out soon.” You say, moving to pick up the arrows scattered on the floor.

“Be careful.” Zoro reminds you.

“I am.” You show him that you’re holding the arrows by their tail ends. “You can go ahead, if you want. Get that wound treated.”

“Do you really think I would leave you?” You can’t help the incredulous look you send his way.

“...Forget I said anything.”

Back in your chambers, you twirl an arrow you decided to keep as evidence while examining the documents sprawled out on your carpet.

Zoro grabs it from your hand. “I thought I told you to be careful with that.”

You think aloud as he sets the arrow to the side, “I just can’t figure out why my mother gave Koushirou so much money.”

“Maybe she felt bad about the accident.” Your swordsman suggests. “We all did.”

“But why did she have to keep it quiet…” Mumbling in thought, you read the last receipt Queen Florentia signed. It had been penned the week of her death.

The sky grows darker, and it becomes more difficult to see. Zoro strikes a match to light a few candles, bathing the room in a subtle, warm light.

Beneath the dim, flickering flames, the sharp arrow on your tea table glints ominously.

It took you a long while to get over spacing out whenever you saw an arrow. It was one of the things that affected you after Kuina’s passing.

Sometimes, you think of how much better everything would be if she was still here. If it weren’t for that—

…accident?

“Zoro?” Your voice is unsteady, “...What do you remember about Kuina’s death?”

“It was some new guy at the training grounds.” He answers, frowning as he recalls what happened. “He misfired, and his knighthood got revoked after that.”

“But,” Memories come flooding back as you try to piece things together. “If the archers were practicing that day, what was Kuina doing in the grounds?”

“Kuina wasn’t in the grounds.” Zoro corrects you. “She was in that meadow we always went to.”

He points to the view outside, raising a finger to trace the horizon. “The arrow flew through the fence, but it was really dangerous, even—”

Zoro turns back to you with wide eyes. “Even the queen was almost hit! Holy shit, she was there to observe that day.”

You blink at him in disbelief, “My mother was the real target.”

“And she didn’t want the culprit to know she realized, which is why she kept quiet about the money.”

You collapse into a chair as you run your hands over your head. “Did anyone ever check the arrow for poison?”

“No.” Zoro’s face crumples. “She was hit straight in the heart... She wouldn’t have made it even if it wasn’t poisoned.”

“Oh, Kuina…” You choke back a sob, covering your face with both hands. “I’m so sorry it took us this long.”

“Wait.” Zoro calls out your name, taking your hand and kneeling in front of you. The strength of his grip hurts, but you don’t mind it. You need to feel that he’s with you right now; especially when his next question makes your heart fall through the floor.

“How did your mother die?”

“She—she got sick. A lot of our people got sick that year.” You answer shakily, not liking where this is going. “Do you think…”

“Queen Florentia could have been poisoned.” Zoro whispers. “And I bet that fake bitch was responsible for it. For Kuina’s death too.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” You counter, “Cassiopeia deals with poisons, sure, but she wasn’t even in the kingdom yet then.”

“...Someone must have betrayed your mother so Cassiopeia could be queen regent.” He suggests, rubbing circles into your palm. “Because isn’t it convenient, how she was there to bring the people together after Her Majesty died?”

It’s confusing how the world seems to have slowed down, and yet your mind is spinning so quickly, you can’t process anything. You squeeze Zoro’s hand to anchor you, but you shatter all the same.

“I hate everything.” You cry, tears streaming down your face. “I hate how I didn’t know—but we were kids! How were we supposed to know? And, I hate feeling so powerless. What—how, are we going to fix this?”

“We’ll find a way, I promise.” Zoro moves to embrace your form, but you glare at him.

“You. I hate you too.” You push him away weakly, but he doesn’t let you go. “I—I hate that you left, Zoro… You have no idea how lost I was.”

His eyes glisten with tears. “I was lost without you too.”

Zoro feels you melt into his arms. Your strength just vanishes, and you slump forward until your forehead touches his.

“...Don’t leave me then.” You whisper. You beg.

He holds your cheek, wiping your tears with his thumb. “Never.”

The last thing you remember before falling asleep is Zoro pressing the softest kiss to your temple as he tucks you in bed.

Selma barges in the next morning, slamming the (newly repaired) doors open. As you rub the sleep from your eyes, you’re starting to feel sad for the abuse your doors have been going through lately.

“Princess! Your Ladyship! Your Highness—” She stops abruptly, covering her mouth, looking scandalized. What is she so flabbergasted by—

Only then do you see Zoro sleeping on the floor beside you. He’s leaning on the bed, using his forearms as a pillow. One of his hands is intertwined tightly with yours.

“Your Highness!” Selma gasps playfully, gesturing to your mother’s portrait. “Right in front of Her Majesty!”

“Selma,” You sit up, letting go of Zoro’s hand. “Did you have anything important to report?”

“Ah!” She exclaims, face becoming worried once more, “The commander has been imprisoned!”

You curse, shaking Zoro’s shoulder to wake him. “Couldn’t you have told me that first?”

“Forgive me, princess. It’s not everyday I see you holding hands with a man. May I ask who confessed first, Your Highness?”

“Oh my god, Selma.” You groan. “Just go prepare my clothes.”

“Shall I dress you, or will Sir Zoro—”

“Selma!”

If Zoro heard any of Selma’s ramblings, he’s excellent at hiding it. You both get ready in record time. After which, he leads the way to the dungeons; careful to make sure you don’t run into anyone.

“We can sneak him out through that secret passage we used to play in.” You whisper, your knight nods.

“When we get to him, break the lock with your dagger. I’ll stand guard in case someone comes over.”

But someone already beat you to Mihawk’s cell. Zoro pulls you into a shadowed corner to hide.

The queen regent paces in front of the bars, her extravagant dress and cape out of place in this gloomy dungeon.

Mihawk is on the ground, his wrists chained with heavy shackles. Yoru is noticeably missing from his back. Seeing him like this is heartbreaking.

“I should have known you’d help that wench.” Cassiopeia sneers. “You’ll regret not siding with me soon enough, Dracule.”

“Now that you’ve found me out, I can finally ask you to stop calling me that.” Mihawk yawns. “My name always sounded revolting in your voice.” Crazy bastard, will it kill him to try to stay alive?

“But Florentia called you that, didn’t she?”

Zoro squints at how something about Mihawk changes at the mention of your mother. It’s almost imperceptible, but the air shifts dangerously. The queen regent should watch her mouth.

“Her name sounds revolting in your voice too.”

Cassiopeia scoffs. “You’re just like her. Thinking you’re better than everyone else.”

“Aren’t you talking about yourself?” Mihawk leans back, crossing his legs. “That’s not a good habit, Cassie.”

The queen regent kicks the cell. Mihawk doesn't flinch as she snarls, “I’ll deal with the princess and that knight... I’ll make you watch as the light fades from their eyes.” Gathering her skirt, her heels clack loudly as she stomps away.

As soon as she’s out of earshot, you and Zoro run to the commander.

“Mihawk!” You call out as you stab the lock with your dagger. It crumbles to the ground after a few strikes. “What happened? What did she charge you with?”

“Treason, apparently.” He shrugs, the chains holding him rattling together.

Mihawk goes on as you break his shackles, “This kingdom should be grateful we’re trying at all. We could easily leave them to their own devices—” You frown at him.

“...But of course, we won’t do that.”

Sneaking into the library, you regroup with Selma; who passes on vital information.

“The queen regent has the palace on lockdown. Everyone has orders to take you in.” She tells you. “But I’ve rallied the staff. We're going to plead your case to the ministers, Your Highness.”

“Thank you. Do you have my mother's letters?” She nods. “Good. Use them well. I'll make sure your efforts will not go to waste.” You say, giving her hands a firm squeeze.

“Where’s that fake queen now?” Zoro looks eager for a fight.

“One of the butlers said that the queen regent disappears sometimes, and no one knows where she goes.” Selma explains, passing you a note from her source. “There are rumors that she smells like grass when she returns.”

Mihawk lets out a disbelieving laugh, “She must be at the secret garden.”

“The what?” You ask. That sounds exactly like something you would have loved as a child, but why haven’t you heard of it before?

“It’s a place reserved for queens. Only crowned monarchs should be allowed in there, or even know where it is.” He says. “That woman truly doesn’t know her place.”

“Why do you know about it?” Zoro asks.

After a pause, the older swordsman deflects, “I’ve been called a queen once.”

“Mihawk,” You urge him to be serious. “Can you take us there?”

Before he responds, Mihawk looks at you with something you can’t fully discern, as if he’s recalling an old memory.

“Of course. It’s your birthright, after all.”

The entrance to the secret garden is hidden in a passageway beneath the greenhouse. You imagine your mother walking along this path, to a sanctuary she could truly call her own.

But the vision darkens when you think of how Cassiopeia has been using the space all this time. You hope you're still able to recognize traces of your mother when you get there.

An iron gate stands at the end of the path. Vines tangle through the metal spirals and flowers. Mihawk holds a finger to his lips, carefully opening the gates without a sound except for the rustling of leaves. You all crouch behind a large plant that fans out, over your heads.

And then, you see it. You see what your mother left for you.

The centerpiece of the garden is an intricate pedestal, Yoru is propped up against it. On top of it, however, is a glass case displaying your mother’s most treasured golden necklace.

You almost want to run to it, but Zoro grabs your arm, warning you not to take another step. He nods towards where Cassiopeia stands in front of oddly shaped vials and strange devices containing diff chemicals. She douses a sword with an eerie purple liquid as she speaks.

“Three against one... That hardly seems fair.” She kisses her teeth. Looking over her shoulder, she glares. “Why don’t we fight on even ground?”

Out of nowhere, a large cage falls towards the three of you. Mihawk pushes you and Zoro out of the way, but isn’t able to avoid the cage himself.

“And I just escaped. What a shame.” Mihawk fusses, but you can see that he’s relieved you’re alright.

“Maybe you’re meant to be in a cell, Dracule.” Cassiopeia remarks. “I’ll have your kids join you shortly.”

There’s only one of her, this should be easy, right?

She throws a bottle at you. Luckily, you’re able to dodge it. The bottle shatters, its contents spilling over the bystanding greenery. The liquid turns out to be acid, burning through the foliage and leaving a smoky trail.

Well, fuck.

Zoro also seems to realize how serious this fight is. For the first time since you’ve reunited, he unsheathes Kuina’s sword, placing the hilt in his mouth.

You brandish your dagger as you yell, “Really? You bite it? What would Kuina say?” He sends you a look. You try not to laugh.

And in the next second, you charge at Cassiopeia together.

It’s difficult to get close enough to land a hit. The queen regent leads you in a dance of acids and poisons. You dodge one bottle only to be met with the toxic end of her blade. It seems that your mother’s dagger won’t be enough in this fight.

“I didn't get this far to be stopped by the likes of you!” Shrieking, she lunges at you.

“You will never be queen!” You roar back.

Behind her, your eyes spot Yoru leaning on the pedestal. The blade is large and intimidating, and you’re not entirely sure if you can wield it correctly… But you might not have a choice right now.

As you were distracted, Cassiopeia’s sword almost cuts through your side. Panicking, you stumble backwards. Zoro slashes at your enemy’s wrist. Her hold on the poisoned weapon falters. It plummets with a clang.

While she’s occupied with Zoro, you rush towards Yoru. From behind the bars, Mihawk watches, holding his breath as you wrap both hands around Yoru’s hilt—but the damn thing is too heavy.

“Dear princess, you should have learned from your mother!” Cassiopeia smashes a bottle on Zoro’s head. “Stop sticking your nose where it doesn't belong!”

The glass explodes into countless glittering shards. A red gas escapes into the air, and your knight inhales far too much of it.

He falls, and for that moment, the entire rest of the world vanishes until all you see is him. Your ears start to ring. His grip loosens on his swords.

No. Please. Not him. Not anyone else. No more.

Mihawk calls your name. You turn to him, on the verge of breaking down. But then, he nods once, slowly. The action reminds you to breathe��filling you with an overwhelming sense of strength. You can do this.

Screaming, you attempt to brandish Yoru again.

You swing the legendary greatsword in a perfect arc. Once it collides with the ground, the air ripples. Power surges through an invisible force headed straight for the queen regent. She tries to run, but the hit lands.

Her eyes don’t stray from yours as she collapses. In her final moments, she falls from grace, howling in agony and rage.

As a last ditch attempt, she throws one last vial of acid at Zoro. You’re about to curse the world all over again as you run to stop it.

Mihawk throws a tiny sword like a dart, miraculously breaking the container before it lands on your knight. Your knees give out, and you pull Zoro into your arms as you gasp for air.

It’s done.

Zoro wakes up to the feeling of you checking his temperature. Your hand is warm against his forehead, making him want to reach up and hold it. He should probably wake up and check on you now.

“Oh.” He hears Mihawk speak, “I didn’t realize your relationship took a certain… turn.”

On second thought, another minute of sleep won’t hurt.

“Not you too, Mihawk.” You groan. “I get enough of that from Selma.”

“Ah, yes. I heard.” The swordsman deadpans, “Hand holding. How scandalous.”

“Alright, if you’re not going to be of any help whatsoever, please just go.”

“If you wanted time alone with him, you could have just said so.”

“Goodbye, Mihawk.”

Zoro hears you escort Mihawk out, and he takes the moment alone to open his eyes. He’s in his quarters, which is a few doors down from yours so that he can easily get to you.

Not that he stays here often, Zoro prefers standing guard outside your chambers. It’s strange how he lasted years without seeing you, because now that you’re back in each other’s lives, he becomes restless whenever you’re not around.

Like right now. What’s taking you so long?

The door opens. Zoro perks up, but deflates when he sees that it’s Selma bringing in a pitcher of water.

“You could’ve at least hidden your disappointment better, Sir Zoro.” She huffs at him, taking full offense. “I’ll go get your princess.”

“Oh!” She yelps excitedly, “My bad, it’s queen anointed now, isn’t it?”

Zoro smiles, his voice raspy with sleep, “That has a nice ring to it.”

“Indeed, it does.” Selma nods, bidding him farewell.

He doesn’t have to wait long to hear your rushing footsteps. The door opens again to reveal you, this time. Your eyes shine in that really pretty way they do when you’re happy. He’s glad that’s among the things that didn’t change.

Zoro opens his arms, inviting you, “Come here.”

Not needing to be told twice, you fall into his arms, burying your face in his chest.

“You’re okay.” You murmur.

“I wasn’t about to miss your coronation, Your Majesty.” Zoro pokes your nose. He did that a lot when you were kids, you forgot how much you liked it.

“Thank you for being okay.” Leaning down, you kiss his cheek softly.

Zoro brushes his fingers through your hair. He holds your face in his hands, tracing your features as if that will help him memorize the happiness he feels in his heart. The sort of happiness he thought was lost to him forever.

“Hey,” Zoro speaks your name with care. “I love you a lot, you know.”

He always envisioned confessing to you in some dramatic, elaborate way that you’d deserve. There could have been a beautiful sunset. He would’ve brought flowers.

But he was wrong. All he needs are the words themselves, and you—smiling the way you’re smiling at him now.

You laugh, “I might love you more, I think.”

Zoro shakes his head, sitting up so that he can bring his face to yours properly. “Doubt it.”

The kiss tastes like magic, like you were always meant to find each other's lips. His heart starts doing something funny, and he has to pull you closer—hold you tighter. You respond eagerly, kissing him back so intoxicatingly that he’ll remember the softness of your lips for as long as he lives.

Later that week, your coronation is a grand and extravagant affair.

When Cassiopeia's misdeeds came to light, the people banded together to celebrate her downfall. Those loyal to her either surrendered or tried to escape. Although none of them were able to get away, since Zoro and Mihawk were ruthless towards those involved in the attempted mutiny.

The crown on your head will take some to get used to. It still feels like you're borrowing something of your mother's; but instead of shying away from it like you had before, you step into it openly. You're ready to become a successor worthy to carry on her legacy of kindness and strength.

Uncharted these waters may be, at least you have Zoro now, who would dive into any perilous sea right after you.

Escaping the celebratory banquet and the revelries, you visit Queen Florentia and Kuina's graves with Zoro. It's only right that you pay respects together.

You leave flowers on your mother's headstone, thanking her for everything she did. You're startled when Zoro takes one of his swords, holding it in front of him as he kneels in front of the previous queen.

“Your Majesty, Queen Florentia,” He speaks, his tone steady and sure. “I, Roronoa Zoro, vow to never leave your daughter’s side. I will protect her until I draw my last breath. I swear to cherish her, and to love her even in my next life.”

What is he doing, making you cry like this? It turns out that emotional boy you knew is still somewhere in there. Your heart feels full, knowing your mother would have appreciated the gesture.

As you're about to move on to Kuina's grave, Zoro motions for you to go ahead without him. You look at him strangely, but do as he says to give him some space.

Mihawk emerges from the treeline when you've gone far enough.

“You look like you’re about to leave without saying goodbye.” Zoro remarks.

“Of course you’d know how that works, hm?” Mihawk challenges, raising a sharp brow. “Try even thinking about leaving and I’ll return to make sure it’s your last thought."

“Didn't you just hear the oath I made to the love of your life?” Zoro turns to Florentia's tombstone again. “Your Majesty, back me up here.”

“She would have approved of you.” Mihawk’s frown is unimpressed, but his gaze is unmistakably caring.

“...Take care of her, Zoro.”

“Of course. I promise.”

As Mihawk walks away, Zoro asks him one last question, “How are your regrets now, old man?”

The former commander’s shoulders shake in a mixture of amusement and relief. “I suspect they'll heal, with time.”

When Zoro catches up to you at Kuina's grave, you're grinning at him. He can picture that same grin on Kuina's face if she were here.

“We were just talking about you.” You jest, “All bad things, too.”

“You had nothing to talk about, then.” Zoro sits on the grass beside you. “I’m perfect for you.”

Appalled, you scoff and turn to Kuina's headstone. “Can you believe this guy?”

That day, you talked for hours, even after the sun had set. And on the trek back to the palace, a soft breeze caressed your skin. It felt like Kuina encouraging you, sending you off onto the next chapter of your lives.

Zoro becomes Captain of the Royal Guard once Mihawk leaves. He's teaching you about weapons and self defense when he picks up your dagger to inspect it, turning it this way and that curiously.

“Is there something wrong with it?” You ask, observing it too.

“This pattern and material.” Zoro says, tracing a certain swirl on the weapon. “I feel like I've seen it before.”

“Ah,” He says in realization, tracing a finger down your neck and making you shiver. “It’s the pattern on your necklace.”

“My mother must have had them made together.” You say, unclasping the chain before handing it to him.

There's a gap in the center of the pendant. Thin and barely noticeable, but it looks like it can be opened by something sharp.

“Do you mind if I,” Zoro gestures at the dagger.

“Just don't break it.” You say. “Treat it like my heart.”

Zoro makes a face that pulls a laugh out of you. “I would never do this to your heart.” Aw. You might have melted a little.

The tip of the blade slots perfectly into the pendant. After twisting it slowly like a key, the metal clicks to reveal: a locket.

Handing it over to you carefully, Zoro lets you open it the rest of the way. Inside, there are images drawn on two panels. You, as a child on one side… and Mihawk on the other. Now you understand why your mother treasured this so much. Tearing up, you sigh.

“You’re not surprised.” Zoro notes.

“...I think a part of me always knew.” You respond. “And, I definitely felt something when I held Yoru. No wonder why.”

Treading carefully, Zoro wraps his arms around your waist as he asks, “You’re not upset that he left?”

“But he didn’t. He’ll always be there for me, and so will you.” You smile up at him. “I’m happy I found my family again.”

Many years ago…

The grass on the meadow bristles gently in the wind. Dusk bathes the land in a dreamy, gold and purple hue.

After a day filled with imaginary adventures, two children wave their dearest friend goodbye. The princess smiles at them fondly before returning to the castle.

Kuina grins, face eager as she points her training sword to the sky. “I’ll be her knight someday. I’ll be commander and everything.”

Zoro jolts, immediately expressing in protest, “No, I’ll be the one to protect her! I’ll be commander!”

“Oh yeah?” The girl’s smile turns knowing. She pokes Zoro’s waist with her sword. “How will you do that? Aren’t you going to marry her?”

Stunned, Zoro can only stare at her in response. A blush creeps up his neck, reddening the tips of his ears. Kuina seizes the opportunity to make a run for it.

“Princess, wait up! Zoro wants to tell you something!”

“Kuina! Get back here!”

read the companion piece / my notes / the timeline of this story (in mihawk's perspective) here : "the taste of ale"

tags: @songsofadelaide-archive @ay0nha @amitydoodlez @sweetexistentialism @murnsondock @starszns @msmisasoup @writingmysanity @hotchocolattee @dimplewonie @hearts4zoro @kenkenmaaa @appalost @commanderfreethatdust @onebatch--twobatch @rebeccawinters @gunslxtz @akakaze @lownna

3K notes · View notes

sukirichi · 4 months ago

Text

[ DUSK ‘TILL DAWN : 015 ]

“we who bear the burden of the crown do not need to love. you only need to stay here, with me, in power, in greed, in lust – in victory.”

cw. modern royal au. angst. physical violence (not to the reader.) manipulation. lying. angst. hurt and a little bit of comfort ig??

notes. feedbacks / reblogs/ comments are appreciated <3

wc. 10.4k

series masterlist

[ FIFTEEN ] scattered ‘cross my family line, i’m so good at telling lies – that came from my mother’s side, told a million to survive. . . i can’t forget, i can’t forgive you. ‘cause now i’m scared that everyone i love will leave me

“This was a mistake. We should get divorced.”

The tranquil song of the sea was deceptive. A vast expanse of silver under the soft glow of the full moon caressed Rintaro’s face, his handsome face heartbreakingly heartbroken. The moon hung low in the sky, casting a serene, almost ethereal light upon the two of you. On the distant coast, a lighthouse flickered, its beam briefly piercing the darkness before vanishing. The momentary light was enough to let you see – the truth, the split-second show of vulnerability within his eyes before it left only the memory of its glow.

Rintaro stood in front of you, at an arm’s length away but your heart worlds apart. The long line of spray marked where the sea met the land, its boundary evident. There, where the moon’s loght turned the sand into a luminous carpet beneath your feet, the waves lulled your racing hearts into quiet murmurs swallowed by the breeze.

You listened to his words – words that carried the weight of an ending unforeseen. Disbelief clouded your mind. You refused to accept what you just heard. Turning your head the other way, you bit down on your lip, hard enough you tasted the coppery tang of blood.

The rhythm of the sea was like the lilt of your heartbeat, steady yet trembling. It began, ceased, and began again, each cycle mirroring this endless round of circles you and Rintaro ran in – to loving, to hurting, to forgiving. Was this how ended? In a poorly-timed farewell?

You always knew this moment would come. Someone would have had to say goodbye. You just never thought the words would come from his mouth.

Your feet rooted deep in the sand, you listened to the melancholy refrain of waves crashing against each other. The moonlight reflected in the water, a silver path stretching into the unknown. You stood there, letting the sea speak the emotions too deep to be said out loud.

And what a moment it was – with the beauty of the night, the serene majesty of the sea, and bittersweet flicker of candles behind you.

It would’ve been easier if the sea held your sadness, with the moon as your witness in your quiet despair, the cliffs holding onto their stone each memory you knew you’d keep for many years to come. The night air, sweet and cool, carried away and brought with the wind your unshed tears.

This was a mistake. We should get divorced.

Rintaro’s words echoed in your mind, a cruel reminder that some stories, no matter how beautiful or tragic, all had its end.

“What did you say?” you licked your lips, forcing a smile despite the wobbliness of your knees. It couldn’t be, right? The night was going well. Fate couldn’t be so cruel – he’d just begun to love you. “I must have heard you wrong.”

Your husband turned away from you, his grip on the bouquet tightening. You watched as the flowers crushed between its force, its beauty drained with one just hand.

“You didn’t. I meant what I said – we should end this.”

“Why?”

His head snapped your way. “What do you mean, why?” he hissed, the bouquet slammed on the ground as he gestured to the air. His eyes were blown wide, frantic and desperate. “Look around you. Don’t you realize none of this feels right? Let’s drop the act, Princess. Neither of us truly want each other, and don’t tell me I’m wrong when I see the way you look at me.”

You reeled back, unknowingly clutching at your chest. “And how do I look at you?”

“Like you’re thinking of ways to get rid of me,” he spat out with a laugh, “Like-like you’re looking for the man who courted you two years ago, the one you truly wanted to marry. Well, I’m sorry to disappoint, because you’re not going to find him. He never existed in the first place. Whatever it is you’re looking for, you won’t find it in me,” his eyes blazed with fury, but then, as if the fire within him had been doused, his hands fell limply at his sides. “But you may find him in someone else.”

Rintaro’s gaze dropped to the floor. Sorrow filled his eyes, his expression softened before he spun on his heel. Turning away, your husband stepped forward.

“Take one more step–” you threatened him, hands balled into fists. “–and I will make you regret it.”

“Do your worst,” came his tired reply, his shoulders slumped. “I couldn’t care less.”

His steps were quick, as if he couldn’t waste any more time in getting away from you. It made blood boil within your veins. Before you could notice, you’d already crossed the distance in one breath, furiously grabbing him by the elbow and spinning him to face you. You were certain you look crazed – your face flushed, your cheeks damp with tears rolling down. He must’ve seen it too, his face falling at the sight of you.

“No! You think you can walk away from me? You think you can do all this–” you gestured to the beach around you, finding it harder to breathe with each word you spoke. “–buy me a house, tell me you envisioned a future with me, made love to me, and even prepared this dinner–”

“I didn’t do it for you. It was Kiyoomi who came up with this idea because he wanted to make you happy.”

Shaking your head, you shoved at his chest. “He wouldn’t do that. Kiyoomi wouldn’t be so cruel!”

“Oh, but I am for going along with it?” he snapped, closing the distance until his wrath enveloped you. “Get out of your head. Just because I did all those things for you, doesn’t mean they meant something. Are you forgetting I spent two years of my life trying to win you over, and I never once felt something for you other than tolerance?” When your face fell, triumph washed over his features. “That’s right. You remember now, don’t you? She’s the one I want. Everything I do is for her. Don’t forget your place.”

“My place? I am your wife. It’s my ring that you have on your finger. What place should I be forgetting? All of this is for me, you did this for me–”

“Oh, wake the fuck up, Y/N!” he bellowed, grabbing at his hair before he turned to glare at you. “I’m so tired of you going around acting like everything I do meant something. Has it never crossed your mind I could have just been bored? It didn’t, did it? Because you’re honestly foolish enough to let your guard down and believe that I wanted you!”

“Then why do all this if you didn’t?” you retorted, “You could become King as long as you married me and I gave you a son. You didn’t have to buy me a house, o-or act like you cared behind the cameras–”

“Well, are you? Are you with child?”

“No, but why does–”

“Then you have no hold over me. Marriage means nothing. This ring? This stupid fucking thing?” You glanced at the gold band at his finger, the one you watched roll over the floor on that day you gave it back to him. Rintaro hadn’t taken it off since, but now he looked at with resentment – like it suffocated him, choked him. “It means nothing. You cannot make me King if you don’t give me a child. And as long as you’re walking around without a baby in your belly, then you mean nothing to me. You have no purpose in my life.”

“So that’s what this is, then? Because she’s pregnant and I’m not?”

Rintaro’s face morphed into despair for a fleeting moment, so quick you questioned if you saw it at all. But almost as quickly, Rintaro’s posture straightened, his eyes hardening with steely resolve. Your breath caught in your throat – your suspicions confirmed.

So it was true. He knew.

And all of this – this house, that mocking conversation of building a family with you – it had been nothing but a cruel joke.

A strangled gasp escaped your lips. Stumbling back, your hands instinctively clutched at your chest as if desperately holding together the pieces of your shattered heart. The attempt was all for naught. The weight of betrayal crashed over you like a thundering wave. Each thought was a daggered stabbed to your soul as the pieces fit together – your husband, the one you loved, and his true love, now carrying his child.

Tears welled up, blurring your vision. You tried to hold them back, refusing to let him have the satisfaction that he’d succeeded in hurting you.

And it had been so easy, wasn’t it? He knew you so well, knew you like the back of his hand, that it came without too much effort that it was so easy to have you wrapped around his finger. One kiss, one tender touch, one proclamation of his so-called affections, and you would’ve broken your back bending to his will. He knew. He knew how easy it would be to win you over, and time and time again, you fell for it like the fool you were.

Everything burned. The pain was too raw, too overwhelming.

“You are cruel, Suna Rintaro. I regret the day I danced with you,” you gritted your teeth, digging your nails into your palm. Hard. “Perhaps you are right. We should get divorced.”

Rintaro sighed. “It’s for the best, even if it’s not what you think.”

“Because you can finally be with her, right? Your dream life is already coming true. You’re going to be a father, you’re going to spend a future with the one you love, and I’m hopelessly in love with you enough that I’ll just let it happen,” you smiled for him, clapping your hands together slowly and mockingly. “Congratulations. It’s everything you wanted. Things are finally going accordingly to plan. Should we open a wine to celebrate?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “Stop acting like a child. You knew what you were getting into when you caught us together and still proceeded with the wedding.”

“You still blame me for that after everything I did for you?”

The silence hung in the air. Somehow, his lack of response already spoke a thousand words.

Unable to help yourself, you glanced at the beach house behind Rintaro. It stood proudly against the backdrop of the setting sun, its white walls glowing warmly in the fading light.

The memories came flooding all at once – the laughter you shared, the stolen kisses when he thought no one was looking, the whispered promises of a life you’d never life. You could almost see them dancing in front of you, like ghosts of the past, lingering in the shadows of the porch and taunting you with the fact it had been too good to be true. So many dreams built, so many dreams shattered.

Your heart ached in ways it shattered you bone-deep. It echoed from your chest and reverberated down to your feet as you recalled the nights you spent wrapped in his arms. His hands on your cheeks, a small smile on his face – when he still looked at you like he loved you and meant it.

But now? Now, that love felt like a cruel illusion – a beautiful dream turned into a living nightmare. The betrayal cut deep, deep enough it left behind the harsh hand prints on your soul. The wounds stinging hard that it might never heal. You forced yourself to tear your gaze away from it – from the swing on the porch swaying gently on the evening breeze, the window that once framed your silhouettes when you welcomed the sunrise together. Each detail was a stab to your already broken heart.

A stray tear fell on your cheek. Brushing it away, hands trembling, you took a deep breath – forcing the salty air to fill your lungs. “Was… was any of it real?”

Turning away from the house was the hardest part. Each step felt heavy, as if the weight of your memories were trying to pull you back. You cast one last, longing glance over your shoulder, your heart silently breaking anew.

Deep down, you already knew his answer. Still, it did not soften the blow when the words left his lips. It didn’t hurt any less when regret crossed his features, like somehow; a part of him wished it had been. “No. None of it was.”

“Okay,” you resigned, your body turned away from him, so he wouldn’t have to see be so pathetic anymore. When you finally spoke again, your voice came out as a breathy whisper. “You should go.”

You heard a slight shuffling behind you, followed by his mumbled words. “I never wanted to stay, anyway.”

When Rintaro walked away from you, each step he took was daunting, final. You didn’t know what hurt you more – the fact he never looked back, or the fact he never hesitated. But there was one thing that was made crystal clear to you now: it was never going to be you. How deeply unfair it was, that a man could say things he did not mean, do things he did not want to. How he could marry you and buy a house, and then turn you away at the next moment.

Love truly was a dangerous thing. It made you break down your walls, hopelessly and blindly handing your heart in the hands of someone, all while silently hoping they wouldn’t break it. And when it did, who would pick up the fallen pieces? Who would gather the shattered shards of your soul as it spilled like blood through his fingertips?

You didn’t have an answer for any of these.

Knees buckling, you fell into the sand, your palms sinking on it with its weight. You cried your heart out – the skies hearing your anguish as it echoed in the dead of the night. You screamed, begged, and called out for a God who never listened. The betrayal left a bitter taste on your tongue, a relentless ache that gnawed at your insides until it felt like nothing was left. As if you’d been hollowed out, bled out to dry, and discarded to the side.

You laid there for who knew how long. The flames of the candle had gone out, the food forgotten and cold. Sand had made its way into your joints and your hair. Your cheek felt crusty and hard from the dried tears. You cried and cried until there were no more tears left – watching from the horizon as the skies deepened into a darker shade.

Just then, a jacket fell on your bare shoulders. Stiffening, you raised your head from where you rested it on your drawn knees – blearily blinking at the figure before you. The man stood tall even with his legs bent, the faintest hint of spice mixing with the breeze.

Behind you, the Second Prince stood, his face devoid of any emotion. Yet, his eyes said it all. You are briefly shocked by how much you saw of yourself within him at that moment. The longing, the sadness – Kiyoomi wore his grief proudly. At the sight of you, his face softened. He offered his hands, one you took with no hesitance, and allowed him to pull you up to your feet. You two stood like that for a few minutes – unspeaking, and just staring at each other.

Kiyoomi was the first to look away.

“You’re cold. You shouldn’t stay out here,” tightening his jacket around you, the Prince suddenly pulled you in for an embrace. It happened too fast, faster than you could react. Before you knew it, your face was pressed against his chest, his heartbeat – strong and mighty – the only sound audible aside from the howling breeze. And you sunk into his hold as your tears stained his shirt, realizing a little too late how much you needed this – to be held so tightly like he feared letting you, like he could squeeze you hard enough and it would hopefully – eventually – piece back together the heart his brother had broken.

“Shhh. I got you, Princess. I’ll always be here for you.”

You’ve gone past the point of believing such flowery words. But when it came from Kiyoomi, you never doubted he’d keep the promises he’d made.

The once-vibrant beach house, filled with laughter and endless conversations, now stood in silence. Its walls held the unspoken truth that forever was not going to last. The gentle breeze that had always carried a promise of endless days spent in joy now whispered farewells through the rustling palms.

Rintaro had begun his farewells. Now, it was your turn to leave everything behind.

The Princes and their companions moved with quiet efficiency. Ever since that dreadful night, things hadn’t been the same anymore. No one spoke about what happened, but it didn’t take a fool to understand that romantic dinners weren’t supposed to end with you and Rintaro returning to the house hours apart – both miserable and mum. One quick look at you two, and the Princes began packing up.

Everyone knew their time had run up.

Casting a final, longing glance at the house, you breathed in the salty breeze one last time. The memories clung to you, each step you took feeling like a betrayal to the woman you could’ve been – the wife he could’ve had, and the mother you would’ve been. With a heavy heart, you watched as everyone loaded their luggage back to their respective vehicles, each one of them driving off. Their movements – along with yours – had been mechanical, as if the finality of their departure had numbed everyone to their core.

You looked out the window. The sun had began to greet the world with its morning kiss. The sea, once shimmering and glistening with spark-like waves, now seemed to mourn with you. The beach, scattered with the footprints of a happier time you’d said goodbye to, would soon be swept clean by the tides.

Any traces of the memories you made would be wiped clean by the world itself. If only it could give you a new beginning, too.

The journey back to the palace was somber. The rolling hills and distant forests passed by in a blur of muted colors – the world passed you by, in both the literal and metaphorical sense. If anything, the ride back felt like walking into your own death. A death march of duty and purpose. Speaking of duty… your hands cradled your belly. You weren’t pregnant, nor were you experiencing any symptoms. Rintaro knew this, too, otherwise he wouldn’t have thrown it in your face that you were merely nothing but a breeding mare for him – and a failed one, at that.

The palace loomed ahead, its grand spires and imposing walls reminding you of your reality.

Back at the beach house, your emotions were valid. There, you were a brokenhearted person who longed for true love. Here, though? None of that mattered. The Palace was not a place for emotions. It was a pillar, the foundation of what the Crown held – power, victory, wealth, control. Here, you were a Princess, and a Princess should always hold her head high.

You couldn’t do it. Bile rose up your throat each time you pictured yourself walking down its grand hallways, the gold shimmering and blinding you. Just the mere thought of the Queen studying you with her observant gaze made you squeamish.

You turned to Rintaro. “Can we please head to my parents instead?”

He looked at you like you’d grown two heads. The Palace was already in view. Still, his gaze darted at you, and back at the Palace, as if seriously considering it. Then, he pinched the bridge of his nose and slumped against his seat. “If you are doing this as an act of revenge–”

“I’m not. My parents truly did want to see us.”

Rintaro contemplated. Absentmindedly, he spun the ring on his finger, gazing down at it with an unreadable expression. His voice was light, and whisper-like as he said, “You cannot tell them about the affair.”

You pursed your lips. You never planned on doing so in the first place. Crossing your arms against your chest, you huffed. “Don’t worry, Your Highness. I never planned on ruining your perfect image.”

Rintaro didn’t bother with responding. Instead, he asked the driver to head back to the Yuzuru Estate, and quickly informed Her Majesty on the detour. It didn’t take long enough before you were surrounded by the familiar grove of trees that led to your place. The sound of wheels on cobblestone mingled with the soft murmur of the midday breeze. Outside, the manicured gardens and stately mansions blurred into a comforting embrace, their elegant silhouettes nostalgic. You couldn’t help but feel the need to reach out, to run your fingertips over the freshly mowed grass, or admire the shapely bushes designed to perfection.

You missed your home very much – one of the few places you felt solace in before your life turned upside down.

Pulling up into the driveway, your butler immediately opened the doors for you. There was a round of warm welcomes and joyful smiles. You’d missed them, too – all the loyal staff who took turns watching over you, even when they remained hesitant to properly acquaint themselves. Nevertheless, it was home. You greedily breathed the fresh air in, letting it fill up your lungs as you breathed out the darkness pooling at your chest.

The double doors opened, and the two of you were ushered in. A few minutes later, your mother came rushing past – a shawl drawled at the curves of her arms. A smile instantaneously, rising up from your seat to meet her halfway.

“My daughter, oh, how I missed you!” she laughed, the sound of it light and coloring up the room. Pulling back from the embrace, she cupped your face with her gloved hands – all her previous smiles slowly wavering. “My goodness, have you been eating well? Sleeping well? You look… different.”

You winced. It would be hard to hide things from her, but you had to try.

Leaning into her palm, you gave her the biggest smile you could muster – teeth flashed and all. “I’m okay, Mother. The Palace can just get a little exhausting sometimes.”

“Does your husband not help you with your duties?”

It was your father who spoke this time. He must’ve come straight from trimming the bushes; a sunhat covered his head, and he wore gardening gloves that were stained with grass and a miniscule of dirt. You didn’t miss the way his gaze leered at your husband. Rintaro was stiff behind you, having stood up as well as soon as your mother entered. “He does most of them, so I believe he is more tired than I am,” you supplied, pointedly ignoring Rintaro’s relieved sigh. Clapping your hands together, you walked towards your father with open arms. “But let’s not discuss any of that – how is everyone doing? I feel like it’s been forever since I last stepped in here.”

“Ah, no,” your father complained as he held you at an arm’s length away, “My clothes are soiled, and you are pristine. Do not bother yourself with getting dirtied.”

You pouted; your mother giggling behind you.

Being back at home was an instant medication. You hadn’t been here in months, yet the effect was evident – your shoulders felt lighter, your smile more natural. You’d stopped trying to think of Iris, too, yet you remained warily aware of your husband. And it was clear Rintaro was unsure of himself. He lingered longer on the doorways, his interactions with your parents more formal than it had been compared to the first time he called upon you. You couldn’t blame him for his discomfort – the question of his affair lingered on the air.

It was only a matter of time before someone addressed it.

A few hours later, with your stomachs filled with warm, homemade meals, you all moved out towards the back gardens. The garden stretched out in a lush expanse beneath the golden glow of the setting sun, each corner rich with the memories of your precious childhood.

Winding stone paths meandered through vibrant displays of blooming flowers – roses in shades of crimson and blush, peonies in soft pastels, and clusters of fragrant lavender. Elegant statues and an ornate fountain stood in the middle of it, their waters cascading beautifully. Majestic oak trees, their branches spreading wide in a serene embrace, provided cool, dappled shade – your signature reading spot from your teenage years.

You’d made many memories here; time spent with your father chasing you and your mother around as your gurgled giggles echoed through the air. It was also where your father taught you to use weapons (much to your mother’s distaste), and eventually, even a date spot when Rintaro wanted a reprieve from the public eye.

Rintaro and your father went ahead. Your father claimed he hadn’t properly worked out in a while, and that perhaps your husband could help him warm up. Beside you, you and your mother watched as the two men rolled their sleeves up to practice sparring. It’s a silly thing, but one you knew Rintaro enjoyed. He often spent time with your father like this when he was still courting you. They toyed with weapons, hunted birds, and sparred with one another. It was your father’s way of gauging Rintaro’s strength at first. Now, they simply did it as a way of bonding.

You smiled despite yourself.

You could still remember those times vividly, where warmth crept up your neck upon the knowledge your parents liked this boy you adored. You appreciated all his efforts, never once backing down from an absurd request from your mother, or another challenge from your father. Rintaro had proven to them, without fail, that he was dedicated in winning your heart.

He’d succeeded. It would be impossible if he didn’t.

He came every day, always at seven in the morning, with a bouquet of flowers that led you into reserving a room just to turn it into an indoor garden. He’d brought flowers for your mother, too, and you knew the moment she shed a tear at his sweetness, that he’d also won their hearts. The sweet ‘yes’ he’d been working hard finally came a year during the courtship. It was on that memorable night he’d driven you out for dinner – no drivers, no servants, no anything. Just you and I, he’d said with a smile, placing a kiss upon your knuckles.

It was the first night you’d kissed him, and the first night you stayed up awake as you lost the battle of trying to calm your racing heart.

If you’d known that early that his heart had already been occupied… No.

Even if you knew, even after you knew, it was too late. You were doomed from the moment he’d picked you out from the crowd. You’d resigned yourself to your fate when the throng of people parted for him as he made his way to you, wearing the most dazzling, lazy smile befitting for a Crown Prince.

You didn’t stand a chance.

You might’ve fallen in love the moment you stepped on his toes, and all he did was laugh.

“My dear,” your mother’s silken voice pulled you out of your trance. Smiling at her, you turned her way, silently sipping on the tea the servants had prepared. Before you, your mother twitched, playing with her fingers splayed on her lap. “I don’t mean to suddenly spring this up on you, but surely you’ll understand a mother’s curiosity and concern. So, tell me. Is it real? Is it true the Crown Prince is cheating on you?”

Your body froze. You’d seen this coming – known she would’ve asked one way or another.

“No, Mother,” you shook your head, dropping your gaze onto your lap in the hopes she wouldn’t see right through you. “His Highness would never. That article was already proven to be a hoax.”

“I see…”

You shared an uneasy silence. Seated across from each other, you stirred your tea absentmindedly, gaze drifting over the manicured hedges that framed the secluded nook. Your mother, poised and composed, sipper her tea with deliberate slowness. You could tell without looking at her that her inquisitive gaze searched for answers on your face. For signs of the truth you struggled to conceal with each passing minute.

The gentle clinking of porcelain and the soft rustling of leaves did little to alleviate the tension, the silence between you two growing heavier with each unspoken word.

Finally, your mother set her cup down and sighed. “I still remember the day the Crown Prince came to call on you,” she began, her words delicate and careful. Her gaze flitted to the two men before you, still elbow-deep in their sparring. “Your father and I didn’t want to believe it at first. You were always beautiful, of course, but you were such a shy, little thing. We worried you might grow old without striking a conversation with any man, but a Prince? A Crown Prince, no less? We were over the moon,” she shook her head at the memory, a small smile playing on her lips. “But then your father and I both agreed you didn’t deserve any lesser man. There couldn’t have been anyone else for you. The Crown Prince was perfect.”

He was, you wanted to agree, he used to be.

“I remember that day, too,” you mused, the image of the Prince with his slicked-back hair and three piece suit flashing in your mind.

You’d expected he would look out of your place in the Estate, whatnot with the royal crest on his chest, yet he never looked more fitting – surrounded by your family portraits and delicately gazing at your childhood photos.

“He was especially handsome – I’d say even more so than when he showed up for the Palace’s royal events.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be surprised. It was clear he wanted to impress us, and you, especially,” teased your mother with a slight poke of her elbow, her face softening. “I remember it all, my dear. How he would always share with us his plans for the dates he’d take you on, how he always took you home at the exact time he promised he would. He was a perfect son, the perfect addition to our small family. And I could never, ever forget how you changed when you met him.”

“I changed?” your brows furrowed, before you shrugged in agreement. “I suppose I have. Being with someone like him… I had to be conscious and aware of everything I did. Do you remember that, Mother? When I begged you to come shopping for clothes for me when you knew I never was interested in any of it?”

Your mother giggled behind her hands.

“I was so happy that day when you asked me to come with you! I thought my sweet girl was finally growing into a mature woman. But that wasn’t the change I was talking about,” she continued, sliding her chair closer to yours. Her palm landed on top of your knee, and she slowly caressed there – just like how she did when you first scraped your knees. And how healing it was, a mother’s tender touch on top of your wounds. It made you want to rip your heart out and shove it between her fingers, to silently beg her to make it all okay.

“…When you met him, you became radiant. In love. You smiled more often, and you opened up a whole new world that the Prince showed you. There wasn’t a day you didn’t speak fondly of him. And you had that look on your face, sweetheart–” she ran a finger down the side of your face, her eyes glistening with tears. You couldn’t understand why she looked so broken. “–it was in your eyes. Everyone could tell how much you loved the Prince.”

You swallowed, the smiles you wore becoming more and more faded. “Mother, I still love him.”

“I know, sweetheart, I can tell,” she cooed. Prying the cup from your hands, she immediately held your hands in hers, her warmth soothing as it seeped through her gloves. “But I also know you’re not happy anymore.”

Your resolve began to crumble.

“Mother…”

Your eyes began to glisten with unshed tears that you struggled to keep at bay. Despite your best effort, the façade of composure slipped. A single tear escaped, trailing a path down your cheek – and just like that – a dam had opened. The door holding your secrets unlocked. It was hard – painfully so – to pretend everything was okay when it was not. You felt like a little child again. A little girl craving her mother’s soothing embrace, and you couldn’t help it – you launched yourself into her arms, burying your face in the crook of her shoulder as your body shook with each sob.

“Oh, sweetheart,” your mother patted your back. Judging by the way her body quivered under you, she’d been crying, too. “It’s okay, I promise. Please, tell me what’s wrong. I can’t handle seeing you like this.”

“Mother, it’s…” you bit at your lip, trying to muffle the whimpers that passed your lips. “I’m sorry, it’s true. I didn’t want to lie, or have to hide it from you, but Rintaro loves you both a lot and I was afraid you’d hate him–”

“Oh! Oh, my poor baby. Never apologize, okay? It wasn’t your fault.”

You clutched her tight, her dress balled into your fists. A part of you told you that you should feel pathetic, that your actions weren’t Princess-like. That Her Majesty would frown at the sight of you and tell you to act your age. But you couldn’t muster the strength, not when your mother’s embrace was the only thing keeping you together – the only thing that told you it was safe enough to fall apart. And so you cried, your tears soaking her dress and the fabric wrinkling under your grip.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Your mother’s sniffles was the last thing you heard before the sound of a fist connecting with skin resounded in the area. Pulling back, you gasped at what you saw.

Rintaro was lying on the ground, your father on top of him. Your father grasped Rintaro by the collar, delivering blow by blow to his face until blood spattered to the grass. Somehow, you managed to scream. The sound was ear-splitting as your heels hit the ground, clutching the ends of your dress as you ran for him. Rintaro wasn’t putting up a fight – his arms limp by his side, his head swaying with each merciless punch on his face.

“Stop!”

“You cheating bastard,” your father glowered, rearing his arm back for one final blow. “How could you do that to my daughter?”

“Father! Please, stop!”

The commotion caused servants to pour from every corner. The guards arrived, pulling your father back by the elbow as he struggled to free from their restraints. Meanwhile, your mother stood beside him – crying and dabbing her handkerchief at his blood knuckles. And you? You fell on the ground, uncaring that the grass had stained your dress, and loomed over your husband. “Rin,” you called out. A low groan was all you received, but it was enough. You breathed out a sigh of relief, immediately calling for the servants to bring some ice and towels.

“Get out of here! You aren’t welcome here anymore!” your father kept kicking and screaming, the sounds of your mother’s pleas falling on deaf ears. “I swear by the Gods your title won’t keep you safe, boy, you will regret it–”

“Get up,” hooking your arm around Rintaro’s elbow, you grunted at his weight. “Rin. Come on. Let’s go.”

Still dazed from being beaten, Rintaro’s legs wobbled underneath him. He groaned, finally wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you limped back to the house. Your father was still a screaming mess, but you knew your mother would calm him down eventually. For now, you needed to tend to his cuts.

You brought Rintaro up to your room. A servant had left an ice pack and some towels there already. Making Rintaro get rid of his bloodied shirt, he changed into one of your father’s – his wince displeased yet left with no choice. Once he’d changed into something clean, he sat at the edge of your bed, shoulders slumped and his handsome face bloodied and bruised.

The air was thick with uneasiness in the dimly lit confines of your room.

The soft glow of your candlelight flickered across the ornate furnishings and Rintaro’s wounds. You worked quietly before him, finding there was no need to speak. His face, usually lacking in interest and graced with slow, lackadaisical smiles, was marred by a collection of bruises and cuts.

Your hand trembled slightly as you carefully dabbed a cloth soaked in cool water against a swollen cheek. The Crown Prince, despite his physical pain, looked even more vulnerable under the soft lights – his usual demeanor replaced by quiet resignation.

With delicate movements, you applied salves, ensuring your touch remained tender and soothing. It wouldn’t erase the hurt from his body, but maybe your care would make it ache less. Each gentle stroke of your fingers served as a silent apology for the pain he endured. And the room, filled with the faint scent of healing balms and the soft rustle of fabric, suddenly felt all too intimate.

The silence between you was heavy, punctuated only by the occasional rustle of the bandages and the soft sighs coming from him. As you finished tending to his wounds, your eyes met, and for a moment, it felt like he was that young man from two years ago – fresh-faced, and red-cheeked upon entering a maiden’s room for the first time. He’d been so nervous back then, his hands clammy and drenched with sweat. In reality, that man was just a fragment of who he truly was now – your poor, bruised husband who winced at every tender, caring touch. As if your love wounded him, and cut him in ways he couldn’t heal from.

As if he just waited for that finishing blow to come from you instead, to be his final damnation.

But it never came.

In that fragile moment, Rintaro closed his eyes, leaning into the caress of your palm as it hovered beside his face. This gesture you remembered – of him accidentally cutting his palm open with a letter opener years ago, and when you’d wrapped bandages around his wound. He did the same thing and leaned into your touch, only to kiss the insides of your wrist. He’d looked up at you from under his lashes, his lips full and ready to be kissed. And kiss him you did, because then he’d been yours, and you’d been his.

You didn’t pull away then. You couldn’t pull away now.

Using your thumb to stroke his swollen cheek, you sighed, the sound tired and heavy. “Did you tell my father? Is that why he beat you up?”

“No. We barely spoke during the spar,” he informed, tongue darting out to lick the dried blood off his lips. “But he kept looking over at you and your mother. I reckon he was just waiting for you to reveal the truth eventually,” just then, Rintaro chuckled, wincing when the motion made his cuts split further apart. His smile remained, however, and you drunk his features in – the way he tipped his head to the side, his eyes hooded, with just the barest hint of a playful smile. “You were never a good liar, you know that?”

“Is that so?”

“Hmm,” he hummed, “On our second date, you told me you didn’t want to watch the movies because you were worried people might crowd us. But it was written all over your face how much you wanted to.”

That, you remembered, as well. You found it impossible how a Prince – a Crown Prince – could simply saunter to the theaters like he was any regular man. He was right; you did want to. You’d never been to the theaters since it was always crowded, and you never did well in the dark. But you soon learned the dark wasn’t so scary when he had his arms wrapped around you. If anything, it felt elating – having the Prince play with your fingers, his gaze never really focusing on the movie.

Rintaro’s jaw clenched, more so in thought. “You always kept things to yourself, always did things for me even when it made you uncomfortable. Was it because I’m the Crown Prince that you felt you couldn’t be honest with me?”

“Not entirely. I guess I was just afraid that if I didn’t do what you liked, then you would lose interest in me.”

“That would never happen,” he interjected, “The moment I laid my eyes on you, I knew you were the one I wanted to marry.”

The realization dawned on him a little too late. His words carried weight with its double meaning, and he winced. The moment was broken. The thread snapped right in front of your eyes. Pulling away from him, you quickly gathered the bloodied towels and set it aside. You made yourself busy, fully aware of his eyes on you, but you wouldn’t dare look back. You had a feeling that if you did, your mind would run rampant again on the last time he’d been here in your room, when your sheets still smelled like him, and he’d fucked you hard enough on your bed that your bodies left an imprint.

You wouldn’t look at him. You couldn’t.

“I’m sorry about what my father did.”

“It’s fine. I deserved every punch,” he shrugged it off, then smirked. “Although I’m probably less appealing in your eyes now. Bruised and all. I don’t look very Prince Charming-like.”

You snorted. “Since you wish for my honesty, then I’ll tell you now the whole Prince Charming act never suited you.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I liked you better when you finally became more comfortable around me. You weren’t as poetic as when you first started courting me, but you were more… yourself. You were funnier, and a lot more charming when you weren’t trying so hard,” you broke that rule all too easily, and you did look at him. You looked at him, even if you could never see through him. “To me, it felt like I wasn’t dating the Crown Prince at all. I liked the unfiltered version of Suna Rintaro better. The one who enjoyed silences, instead of filling it with flowery words to get my heart fluttering. The one who preferred phone calls over texts because you wanted to hear my voice before going to sleep. The one who I considered my closest friend, the one I knew I wanted to marry, too.”

He was beautiful like this – his shirt hanging loosely at his broad shoulders, his arms slightly leaning back as it dipped with his weight on the mattress. His hair was tousled, the dark locks beautifully framing his face. And his eyes – hazel and more brown than green as the orange ember glows kissed him – were something you could lose yourself in for hours. For forever, even.

Suddenly, you wanted the world to end this way. You wanted time to stop if it meant picturing him like this, frozen and unguarded, beautiful and smelling like your perfume. You would’ve died a happy man if it meant this would be your last moment. With him on your bed, his clothes on your floor, and your ring on his finger.

You yearned for him so badly your body ached.

“Princess,” he mumbled after a pregnant pause, his voice coming out small as he said, “Why don’t you hate me?”

“Who says I don’t?”

The smile you pulled from him is lighthearted; unresevered. “Let me rephrase my question. Why do you still love me?”

Because isn’t that what love is? To know someone’s flaws, and to accept them as who they are? To see all your bad mornings and watch you stumble into the bathroom, clumsy and hazy. To see you at your worst, to choose arguments with you than silence with you. I thought that’s what love meant – to see the ugliness in another and to defy the impulse to turn the other way in search of another, the ‘someone better.’

You don’t tell him that. Instead, you offer another truth. “I wish I knew how to answer that myself.”

“I’m afraid,” Rintaro admitted, voice vulnerable and small. “I fear that one day, your hatred of me will consume you, and you will forget why you ever loved me.”

The candles cast soft shadows off his face, flickering like the fleeting time of the time you had with him. Each flame pulsed with the restless ache in your heart as you recalled the moments of closeness and intimacy that was half-heartedly reciprocated.

Your gaze drifted toward the space where he’d once lain beside you, the indentation in the sheets a painful reminder of the absence that now filled the void. You wanted to tell him you hadn’t changed the sheets since he last slept here. The scent of his cologne still lingered in the air, he still had his own pair of socks in your drawer, he’d left a wristwatch or two behind. He was here everywhere in your room, even if his heart wasn’t.

And it was so hard – so fucking hard – to accept that he didn’t love you.

Want me, you pleaded silently, at least want me. Just a little bit.

With slow, deliberate steps, your hand rested lightly on the bed’s edge, your fingers brushing against the cool, smooth fabric, as if permanently pushing the warmth of his presence back to the bed. Your heart ached with a bittersweet yearning for a heart that was never fully yours, a yearning that clung to you until it wrapped its fingers around your throat.

He was here now, wasn’t he? He wasn’t leaving. He said he would divorce you, he said it was always going to be her, but he was here – in front of you, in your room. If you dared to reach out a hand and crawl close enough, you could fall into his lap and cradle his head to your chest. And it was exactly that passionate longing that would ruin you – because you couldn’t resist. You couldn’t resist from trailing your fingers up his arm, all the way to his face. His eyes were unreadable; his pupils dilated and his lips pulled apart.

God, you wanted to kiss him.

So you pulled him close. Grabbed him by the collar, and slid yourself into his lap until Rintaro was forced to scoot backwards to balance you both, his large hands coming to rest on your hips. You breathed hard, shaking your head at yourself before your forehead knocked with his.

“Rin… Your Highness,” you corrected, rasping out the words. “I’m sorry. I know it’s wrong, and I know I could never have your heart but could you just – could you please hold me? Just for a minute, please. Pretend that you’re in love with me, I just–” your breath hitched when he squeezed your hips, to stop you or encourage you, you couldn’t tell. “–I just want to feel it again. That happiness I had with you.”

Rintaro hitched you up higher on his lap. Your chest crashed with his, and his lips followed. He tasted of blood and sugary biscuits. His taste, and his scent, flooded your senses until there was nothing to perceive but him.

And the kiss? It isn’t gentle. It isn’t soft. It’s desperate – lips bruising lips, teeth knocking with teeth, and tongues passionately grasping at one another. Your hands fly everywhere after that. Tugging at his hair, grabbing him harder by the collar to deepen the kiss. He swallows every sound you make, breathes them in like he needs them to live. So you give all you can and moan out his name – not Your Highness – and revel in the way he keens. He melts like snowflakes in the heat of your palm, like your touch burns him. You’re seconds away from dragging him back up on the bed when Rintaro suddenly shoves you off him. He flings himself upright and crosses the other side of the room in quick strides, the quick rise and fall of his back facing you the only thing visible from the dimly-lit room.

He didn’t need to say it out loud.

He’d regretted that kiss. Your heart broke once more as you sat at the edge of your bed. His rejection stung, even more so when he wiped his lips with the back of his hand. Rintaro was shivering now as his head knocked against the window. Each breath he took seemed labored, as if even the act of drawing air was a struggle against the overwhelming sorrow that enveloped him. The air around him felt dense with the gravity of his internal torment, and your heart sank as you finally voiced out what he could never say out loud –

“…You really don’t love me.”

The silence falling over the room wrapped around the space like a heavy, suffocating shroud. the absence of sound was deafening. It pressed in on the walls and made each breath feel louder. Every creak of the floorboards or distant murmur from the outside was amplified, heavily echoed in the thick air. And when Rintaro finally spoke, it came with a tone of finality and unconcealed regret.

“I’m sorry.”

You swallowed, blinking back the tears as you fixed your appearance. “Pardon me for a moment,” you began to exit the room, your hands hovering on the handle before you you’re your decision. “Your Highness… is it okay if I stay here at my parents? It’s just for a few days. I don’t think I can handle returning to the Palace anytime soon.”

“Of course. Take all the time you need.” Rintaro did one final sweep of your room with his eyes. Something unreadable passed over his face. In the next moment, he cleared his throat, and opened the door himself. “I should leave. Goodnight, Princess. Please tell your parents that I left already, and I truly am sorry for the mess I caused.”

Rintaro was gone before you could say anything.

Just before his back disappeared from your line of sight, you saw something you thought you would never witness – Rintaro took two steps at a time on his way down, his frown pronounced as he wiped the tears off his face.

It unfolds like a badly written tragedy.

One moment, Rintaro is standing in the confines of your room, his heart racing with a desperate urgency that pulsed through every fiber of his being. He’d wanted to keep kissing you. Pulling away, and resisting his desire had to be one of the greatest pains he’d experienced, but he had to. He couldn’t keep doing this to you. His conscience wouldn’t let him.

That’s why he had to resort to doing the only thing he could think of in that moment – to run away and leave you behind.

Storming through the stately halls and out the grand doors of your estate, Rintaro pushed through. The weight of his regrets made each step harder to take, a burden that dragged him toward the waiting car parked outside the chill beginning to settle.

He jumped into the vehicle, ignoring his driver’s confused queries before slamming the door shut behind him. Inside, the car felt like a confining cell, its leather seats and polished surface now an inescapable prison of his own making. His hands, trembling with a mix of frustration and despair, gripped the steering wheel with a white-knuckled intensity.

In a sudden, raw burst of emotion, his fist struck the steering wheel with a deafening thud. The impact reverberated through the car and sent a shiver down his spine.

Still, he kept going – each strike of his fist minimal in comparison to his anguish. He reveled in it, the sharp pain in his knuckles a fleeting distraction from the deeper, more consuming agony that began to eat away at him.

His breaths came in ragged gasps, each inhalation a struggle. The air inside the car felt stifling, thick with the heavy scent of leather and the acrid tang of the remnants of blood at his face. His tears began to flow uncontrollably, streaming down his face and mingling with the sweat that dampened his brow. In the suffocating silence, his mind raced through a myriad of memories – from when he’d first kissed you, when he first held your hand, and the tender embraces he held you in. Each memory served to remind him of what he had now – nothing but a fractured connection, a strained marriage, and your fragile heart which he couldn’t protect.

Each image passing through his mind were tinged with bitterness. He recalled the warmth of your presence, the way your smile could light up the room, and the feeling of your hand in his.

He wished he could take it all back – to start from the beginning, to re-introduce himself to who he truly was. But he couldn’t. He knew he couldn’t. It was too late.

He’d gotten Iris pregnant.

Rintaro hadn’t mean to. Sure, he was careless and never used protection, but he thought little of it. Iris’ cycles were irregular and they never worried if she missed her period. She was always on the pill – all because of him, since Kiyoomi wouldn’t have touched her anyway. In another lifetime, Rintaro might’ve felt happy. Instead, he was filled with crushing dread. He couldn’t be a father, he didn’t want to be like his father.

And why hadn’t she told him? All this time… he foolishly thought she’d began ignoring him because it was a mutual, unspoken feeling that they’d just gotten tired. He never handled the media’s criticism well, and Iris wasn’t any better. She cared about her image and reputation more than anything – so why hide this from him? If he had known sooner…

What? his mind taunted, What would you do if you knew sooner?

Rintaro’s head dropped to the steering wheel. The voice in his head was right. He wouldn’t have done anything. Had he known four months ago, he would’ve celebrated. Had he known two months ago, he would’ve been upset, but choose to take responsibility in the end. But now? Now his decision was clear. Without giving it a second thought, Rintaro pulled out of your driveway and headed straight for the palace, dialing Iris on his way.

She picked up on the third ring.

“So it’s true,” he spoke to the phone, driving past the other cars on the highway in full speed. He should drive more carefully, but his blood was pumping loud in his veins – your touch lit a fire in him, and he needed that fire stoked. “You’re pregnant.”

A pause came from the other line. “How did you know?”

Rintaro gripped the steering wheel tighter, glaring at the phone even if she couldn’t see. “You’re heartless, Iris. How could you let my wife find out about it first before I did? Why did she have to tell me?”

“She told you – what? I never planned on letting you know about it, Rintaro. I don’t even know how she found out!”

“What, you were going to use that baby against me? Is that what you planned?” he growled at her, “You’re not keeping that damned baby – you’re getting rid of it right now. I’m not letting you fuck up my marriage.”

“I wasn’t going to keep it anyway! You’re absolutely insane if you think I’m planning to give birth to your filthy child–”

“Shut up!”

Rintaro ended the call. He’d had enough of her and her greediness. How dare she keep something like that from him, aborting his child before he even knew of its existence?

He stepped harder on the gas.

The engine roared in defiant response to his intense, almost reckless driving, its powerful growl a stark contrast to the stifling silence that enveloped the car. The air inside the car was thick with the acrid scent of tension and frustration, each breath he took feeling heavier and more labored as he fought to keep his rage contained.

His thoughts raced with the echoes of the argument, each harsh word and biting remark replaying in his mind like a relentless loop. The sting of her anger gnawed at him, fueling the fire of his own resentment. The images of her face, twisted in frustration, seemed to haunt the darkened windows of the car. Iris seemed to do that often – haunting him both in his dreams and a nightmare.

Rintaro couldn’t fathom why it was too late when he realized she’d never been a good person to begin with.

She was never his friend.

She only approached him because Rintaro was malleable. He was a blank canvas of a man, a lost Prince. He was nothing but an experimental toy for her. She’d kissed him, stolen his heart, and fed him lies that she’d give him what he wanted if he did what she liked. And he did – every fucking time. He drunk himself wasted, because Iris didn’t like drinking alone. He smoked packs of cigarettes for her even when he hated the taste of nicotine, because Iris got antsy without smoking. He fucked her hard and deep, and spent countless nights in her bed, because her husband never wanted to touch her. And what did he get in return?

Fake smiles. Sarcastic, mocking comments. A dry reply from his enthusiastic texts. A quick, good fuck if they were bored enough.

Iris never wanted him. She only ever wanted one thing: security. And when she was married to a Prince, and had another wrapped around her finger? She could do no wrong in the eyes of the throne.

As he drove, the powerful beams of the headlights cast fleeting shadows across the road.

The palace loomed ahead, its silhouette a distant promise of refuge that seemed increasingly out of reach. The anger that coursed through him was a force unto itself, a seething urge that refused to be quelled.

As he approached the grand gates of the palace, his emotions were spilling all over the place. He only had one place in mind: Belleview Manor.

Rounding a corner in the dimly lit hallway of the palace, Rintaro came to an abrupt halt. The reaction of his body was instantaneous: his breath caught in his throat, his muscles locking into place. Before him stood the Queen, her regal presence magnified by the soft, flickering light of the sconces lining the walls. Her silhouette, framed by the rich, opulent draped and the gleaming marble floors, seemed almost otherworldly.

She stood there, unmoving, like she’d somehow known he would be coming any minute now.

Rintaro’s head pounded in his chest. Cold dread washed over him, an icy hand clutching at his insides. The Queen’s serene yet inscrutable expression was nothing but an act, that he knew. In reality, her expressions were alien and foreboding. Her eyes, deceptively warm and reassuring, stared back at him like dark abysses, their depth hinting at the hidden complexities and secrets Rintaro had never cared to consider before.

He felt as if the ground beneath him had shifted, his already unstable world rocked by the revelation of a hidden side to his mother that he never perceived.

He stood frozen, a tangible sense of fear and anger enveloping him as he confronted the unsettling truth: the queen, his mother, was a mystery he had never fully unraveled.

The secrets she harbored, once a vague notion in the back of his mind, now loomed large and menacing, casting a long shadow over his perception of her. The fear that gripped him was profound and disorienting, a jarring contrast to the reverence he had always felt. His whole life, he’d only wanted one thing – to please his mother, to make her proud, to be a Queen’s son worthy of becoming the next King. His whole life he’d only done what he was told.

But in that moment, he was consumed by the chilling realization that the mother he had known and loved was a stranger, and the weight of her concealed truths left him trembling with a profound, unsettling fear.

“You,” he breathed out, his fear now overtaken by his sight going red. He felt mocked, humiliated, used. “Why did you never tell me?”

The memory of that night on the beach was seared into his mind.

He could never forget it – Iris’ sneer, the way her lips curled in contempt, as though he were something beneath her. Her words had cut deep, bleeding into his every being until the truth pounded at his veins. She had looked at him with disdain, her eyes cold and unfeeling, as she spat out how she’d never wanted to be with him, how she’d used him to cure her loneliness. A rejection born from a sick, twisted confession.

And now that he’d fulfilled his purpose in the bleakness of her world, he was nothing more than a disposable distraction. She’d called him worthless, a joke, someone unworthy of her attention – a prince in name but never in her eyes. The wind had whipped around him, cloaked around him like a glacial storm, but it was her biting words that had left him feeling exposed and small.

She’d delivered a stab to his heart that no amount of time could erase.

I never wanted to be with someone like you in the first place.

Didn’t you know, Rin?

You were never the King’s son.

#suna x reader #suna x you #suna rintaro x reader #haikyuu x reader #suna rintaro angst #suna x reader angst #haikyuu angst #kiyoomi x reader #kiyoomi x reader angst #kiyoomi sakusa x reader #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #suna rintaro x you #kiyoomi x you #haikyuu x reader angst

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thelikesofus · 10 days ago

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Buddie Fic Recs

REC LIST NUMBER 7! I’m finally home so I can finally share with you the over three months worth of Buddie fics that I have read to keep me sane while I was traveling around the UK. As always, please show these authors some love in their comments xx Find my other Buddie Rec Lists HERE

REMINDER TO CHECK THE TAGS AND TRIGGER WARNINGS

What's Easy is Right by @half_bakedboy | G | 18k

Buck romances Eddie the way that he deserves. It was so refreshing to read a fic like this where everything just goes right for them. They just get to fall in love and be happy without any conflict or "big bad thing" arising. They were allowed to just be in love and happy and I love that so much <3

my man says he loves me (never says he loves me not) by @colonoscopys | G | 1.9k

Buck and Eddie unknowingly commiserate with each other through a website entitled: inlovewithmybestfriendandgoingtodie.com! This fic is absolutely incredible. I could literally cry, it's so good!!

loves a game, wanna play? by @exhuastedpigeon | M | 57k

Love Island AU. In the aftermath of Chris leaving for the summer, Buck convinces Eddie they should apply for Love Island together. I have never watched Love Island, or ever wanted to, but if this fic was a real season I would EAT. IT. UP!

Eddie vs Romance by @littlespoonevan | T | 27k

This lovely two-part series in which Eddie does a lot of self-learning and then gets romanced as he deserves.

Too Often the Power of Touch is Underestimated by @xjustlikeyou | T | 15k

Five times a touch knocked Eddie off his feet, and the one time he got to return the favor. I have no words to describe how wholly and profoundly perfect this fic is to me. This is THEE Buddie touch-centric w/ pining Eddie fic of all time!

Until the Dancing Ends by @phoenix-angel-suyari | G | 4k

Eddie finally sees footage of Buck's reaction to him getting buried in the well and Eddie reacts proportionately by kissing him in front of everyone. So, so good!

i'm here with the door wide open by @eddiebabygirldiaz| T | 24k

Eddie copes with the absence of Chris but also the presence of Buck. I adore this fic, Eddie finally learning to allow himself to feel things and to accept that he deserves to love and be loved in return and that what he feels for Buck doesn't need to be stamped down and hidden. The ending is so beautifully soft too!

you're almost home (i've been waiting for you to come in) by @sibylsleaves | E | 24k

Buck breaks up with Taylor, moves out of the loft and in with Eddie. Let the Buddie Roommates and Pining Era begin! As all of Sibyl’s fics are this is just incredible and I devoured it!

the tortured poets department by @colonoscopys | E | 18k

The first time Buck touched him, Eddie blew an ambulance up AKA Eddie has magic and a lot of complicated feelings about his best friend.

there ain't no turning back by @42hrb | E | 28k

After dropping Chris off at College, Eddie begins his journey home only Buck to fly out to crash his Sad Dad Cross Country Road Trip™. This fic made me feel a hundred billion emotions so strongly. Incredible.

Hot Ghost Problems by @ebjameston | T | 40k

Not Actually Dead™ Ghost!Buck and Witch!Eddie. This fic is actually incredible! 10/10. Five Stars.

Season of Hope (After the Flood) by @saryasy | T | 58k

Eddie learns a lot about himself while waiting for his son to come home. The pinning and beautiful, KARENEDDIE BESTIE-ISM FOR THE WIN! And a beautiful tender happy ending xx

the going water and the gone by @try-set-me-on-fire | T | 31k

Eddie Diaz presumed dead? Again? More likely than you think. I live for these sorts of fics and this one set Post Cruise Ship is so good!!

come and be my baby by @colonoscopys | T | 21k

What is Buck and Eddie got together in season 2? This made me laugh and cry and feel all kinds of emotions and it's just so beautiful!!!!!!!

ice cream before dinner by cloudydaisies | T | 58k

This fic really doesn’t need any introduction because I think we are all obsessed. GIRL UNCLE!EDDIE + ICE CREAM TUESDAYS ❤️

bottle episode by @transboybuckley | T & E | 14k

The 118 has a 24-hour shift, and zero calls. The softest bottle episode, full of Firefam love, Buddie, and which is somehow also about crying over trees.

when everything's on fire by @glowingyears | T | 15k

Eddie and Chris move into the loft with Buck after a house fire and then they buy a house together. SO COZY SO LOVELY THERE IS JUST SO MUCH LOVE IN THIS FIC.

From the Ground Up by @blueberrytwoberry | M | 17k

Eddie finds a massive dog on his porch and can’t seems to get rid of it. THE DOG IS BUCK! BUCK IS A DOG! DOG BUCK!

cold rain, warm skin by @gayhoediaz | T | 2.5k

Just the softest coziest morning kisses ever known to man <3

death wish love by @eddiebabygirldiaz | E | 15k

After his break up with Tommy, Buck goes to Eddie's, he wakes up the next morning only to be pummeled by his hangover and his attraction to Eddie. No words can possibly describe the soft comfortable and loving cocoon that this fic creates.

We Both Go Down Together by @xylodemon | T | 4k

A near death/drowning experience, a love confession and hospital pronounced husbands, what's not to love!?!

#buddie #buddie fic recs #buddie fic rec list 7 #buck x eddie #eddie diaz #evan 'buck' buckley #911 #911 fic recs #meegs rec list

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astonmartinii · 9 months ago

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it's got to be time travel | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x fem footballer!reader

face claim: jessie fleming (i'm a chelsea fan and i'm sad she left :()

they've got all the time in the world for each other, don't ask them where they got that time from though

note: we're also gonna pretend that the women's football and f1 seasons line up here lol

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR | MY SMALL BUSINESS

charles_leclerc

liked by landonorris, lewishamilton and 1,203,784 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: last sunday lunch before we both have to go back to work :(

view all comments

user1: ffs why do their ACTUAL jobs have to get in the way of my regularly scheduled charles x y/n content???

user2: i personally think that the fia should just give charles the championship and y/n the WSL title so they can just chill together :)

maxverstappen1: not on my watch

charles_leclerc: you don't even follow me? get out of my comments

maxverstappen1: you can't just get given the championship because you have attachment issues WE ALL HAVE ATTACHMENT ISSUES

charles_leclerc: me i get, but y/n doesn't deserve to win?

maxverstappen1: i never said that. y/n is girlboss slay queen

yourusername: too right i am

charles_leclerc: why are you peace and love with her and not me?

maxverstappen1: she's cool, you aren't

yourusername: can't disagree with that babe soz

user3: i have a feeling that these spats might get worse the longer charles is separated from y/n

user4: waa waa we're all sad their being separated but all i'm thinking is UP THE CHELS

user5: i need the treble right fucking now, a charles championship would be a bonus i guess

lewishamilton: will i get a formal introduction to y/n before we're teammates?

yourusername: YES, YES YOU WILL

charles_leclerc: i guess that answers that

lewishamilton: don't hate the player, hate the game

yourusername: i better see your ass at kingsmeadow at some point, it's fun, even if others think they're too good for it

lewishamilton: i'll be there 🫡

user7: can 2025 come quick.... PLEASE

user8: lol does this mean that charles has offered to take carlos to a game but he didn't go?

user9: ugh what a bore

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 1,402,667 others

tagged: chelseafcw

yourusername: excited for the new season back with the girlypops :))))))

view all comments

user10: treble or nothing I BEG

user11: it's their year for the champions league i've seen the script

alexalbon: no seatbelt ? way to set dangerous examples to your young audience

yourusername: if you're not careful i'm gonna teach my audience how to put their foot up the ass of those annoying her

alexalbon: ugh i hope you lose :P

yourusername: i don't have to hope, i know your ass ain't gonna be in q3

alexalbon: that's TOO far @charles_leclerc does our years of friendship mean nothing?

charles_leclerc: sorry buddy, i am y/n stan first, human being second

yourusername: as he should.

user12: so like... will we see charles in a y/n jersey again in the paddock?

user13: @ferrari stop being so annoying and let him wear what he wants

user14: i think i tasted paradise when they actually let him wear a y/n canada jersey in montreal

charles_leclerc: never seen someone make blue look so good

maxverstappen1: i'm right here?

sebastianvettel: did the homoeroticism of our challenge videos mean nothing?

danielricciardo: do not lie to yourself

yourusername: sorry sluts, you wish you looked this good

charles_leclerc: they'll never be you 🫶🏻

user15: i know the cfcw admin and pr department have a heart attack every time y/n posts

user16: the way she's out here calling three f1 drivers sluts with no repercussions

yourusername: can't be told off for telling the TRUTH

liked by lewishamilton, fernandoalo_oficial and 1,205,489 others

tagged: charles_leclerc & yourusername

f1: couple goals! charles leclerc takes pole in bahrain while his girlfriend, y/n y/ln, scored the winner for chelsea women!

view all comments

user19: okay but i've never been in a relationship and am currently rotting on my couch... so who is the real winner here x

yourusername: my handsome boy is so talented :3

charles_leclerc: not as talented as you, pretty girl

yourusername: nuh uh at least my team is competent

charles_leclerc: errrrr

samkerr20: i think you broke him lol

yourusername: sometimes i think he's more loyal to ferrari than me

charles_leclerc: no!

scuderiaferrari: huh?

charles_leclerc: wait...

yourusername: i see :(

charles_leclerc: i'm LOGGING OUT

user20: charles is so lover boy stuck in his tortured poets department (ferrari formula one team)

user21: the way he's probably yelling down the phone to y/n about how much he loves her right now

samkerr20: he is and it's so loud the whole locker room can hear it

yourusername: but he's so sweet isn't he

niamhcharles17: i guess?

alexalbon: we heard it from his side... barf

yourusername: @lilymunhe are you being starved of romance?

lilymunhe: compared to you and charles YES

alexalbon: ummmm get out of my business y/ln

yourusername: you're ALWAYS in my business buster 🤨

alexalbon: NO! i am just passing down the ancient skill of communication?

yourusername: you're such a gossip girl alex

user21: i know they bicker like siblings, but i know deep down that there have been double dates

charles_leclerc: yes, but y/n and i are much better (no offence lily)

yourusername: did you log back in to restart the argument with alex

charles_leclerc: yes!

alexalbon: boo you whore

yourusername: don't talk to him like that 🤨

samkerr20

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc and 303,445 others

tagged: yourusername & charles_leclerc

samkerr20: forced to hang out with the straights... they're actually kind of cute

view all comments

user22: you know the couple has to be real cute when even the gays think they're cute

user23: no one can resist the charms of y/n and charles

yourusername: these photos make me think that we are cuter

samkerr20: we are but i didn't want to hurt charles' feelings

charles_leclerc: consider them hurt

samkerr20: boo hoo

yourusername: noooooo i love you xxx

charles_leclerc: hehehehehehehe i love you too xxx

yourusername: i miss you, hurry up and win and come home to me

charles_leclerc: i'm doing my best :(

yourusername: you are the bestest boy

samkerr20: STOP THAT MAKES HIM SOUND LIKE A DOG

oscarpiastri: when will australians stop being victims of this relationship

danielricciardo: this is your first season dealing with them properly, buckle up

oscarpiastri: i'm in a relationship but they make me feel so lonely

maxverstappen1: you get used to it after a while

yourusername: we're right here

landonorris: let us commiserate in peace

charles_leclerc: ??? do you or do you not get free football tickets out of it?

landonorris: yeha but when we go we just have to watch you cry when y/n inevitably wins another trophy

charles_leclerc: I'M PROUD OF HER AND YOU WON'T SHAME ME FOR THAT

user24: chelsea women players must be so confused when these grown men start arguments in the comments of THEIR posts

yourusername

liked by alexalbon, charles_leclerc and 1,529,556 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: weekend off... you know what that means

view all comments

user25: i know there's over 1.5 million likes but how can i gatekeep y/n?

user26: for real

charles_leclerc: the best weekends are with you here

yourusername: i may have a love/hate relationship with this team, but the catering is banging (i may have to move to italy)

chelseafcw: NO MENTIONS OF LEAVING CHELSEA, NOT EVEN A JOKE - NOTHING!

yourusername: okay, sorry guys (the pasta was so good though)

charles_leclerc: not even for me?

chelseafcw: DEFINITELY NOT FOR YOU, WATCH OUT OR WE'LL BLACKLIST YOU FROM KINGSMEADOW

yourusername: okay, let's pedal this back. i'm not leaving london and we all still love charles, right admin?

chelseafcw: .... yes

user27: when you're in a who has attachment issues with y/n y/ln and your competition is the chelseafcw admin and charles leclerc

user28: no point even showing up

maxverstappen1: i for one am glad when y/n is in the paddock because it means i can sneak in without the cameras seeing me

yourusername: i am a woman of the people

charles_leclerc: she's such a star, everyone wants to see her

maxverstappen1: yeah i'll give you that

yourusername: we're also hot

charles_leclerc: don't you dare respond to that one max

maxverstappen1: 🫡🫡🫡

user29: patiently waiting for the hq photos of them 😚

user30: gonna print them out and put them in my heart locket

charles_leclerc

liked by landonorris, yourusername and 1,398,452 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: babe is top of the league (and top scorer)

view all comments

user33: get yourself a guy who flexes your achievements as much as charles does

user34: setting the example tbf

yourusername: my lucky charm, that hat-trick was for you xx

charles_leclerc: would mean more if you didn't score them every week 😭

yourusername: they hate to see a girlboss winning

charles_leclerc: wanna share some wins with me?

yourusername: you're doing great this season babe, not your fault that nasa decided to rebrand to red bull racing

redbullracing: adrian says thanks 😊

charles_leclerc: DON'T SAY IT Y/N

yourusername: you don't even know what i was going to say

charles_leclerc: ....

yourusername: @redbullracing you got a seat???

charles_leclerc: Y/N!!!!!!!!!!

yourusername: whoops

user35: y/n really out here trying to get charles that damn seat

yourusername: i'll stop when the horse team makes a championship worthy car that they don't break halfway through the season...

user36: add ferrari to the group of people who shudder in fear when y/n posts

chelseafcw: fine... we hope you enjoyed (no more italy jokes)

charles_leclerc: i had a great time, i always do when i watch y/n do what she loves (slay)

yourusername: awwwwwwwwww i love you charlie

chelseafcw: okay no need to make admin feel that lonely, damn

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, alexalbon and 1,782,309 others

yourusername: finishing my best ever season with a big trophy haul :) now time to support my trophy husband in his day job

view all comments

user41: she really be out here doing it all

user42: i need her to win the Ballon d'Or Féminin PLEASE IT IS TIME

user43: with charles in attendance, first couples red carpet appearance YES, YES RUN IT TO ME PLEASE

charles_leclerc: unbelievably proud of you, mon amour, constantly inspired by you

yourusername: i love you so much, thank you for being there to support me through it all

charles_leclerc: it's the biggest pleasure in the world

yourusername: i'm all out of winning this season, your turn next weekend?

charles_leclerc: for you, i'll do anything

user44: PLEASE I NEED HIM TO WIN GOOD PLEASE

alexalbon: congrats i guess, you're pretty good

yourusername: thanks, since my boyf is so supportive, it's only natural that you have to try and humble me at every turn

alexalbon: you're more famous than us now, we need to keep you grounded

lilymunhe: don't worry y/n he cried nearly just as much as charles when you won the WSL

yourusername: I KNEW IT

charles_leclerc: i still cried more

alexalbon: it's not a competition bro, we all know you're both helplessly in love

yourusername: that we are

charles_leclerc

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 1,309,855 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: happiest when i'm with you (and whoever has decided to tag along), oh and winning a race helps as well i guess

view all comments

user45: CHARLES WIN I REPEAT A CHARLES WIN WE WON?

user46: the way y/n went just as mental as us, her and zecira jumping around the garage (and starting the champagne shower after the podium)

user47: really proving that y/n and charles really are each other's biggest fans

user48: thank the lord the WSL season finished when it did so y/n could be there for this win

user49: y/n would've ran to austria to be there i'm sure

yourusername: you know it 🫡

maxverstappen1: had to let you win so you could look cool in front of your infinitely cooler girlfriend

charles_leclerc: not even gonna bite, i'm too happy to care

yourusername: i'll bite - HIS TALENTED BEHIND SCHOOLED YOUR ASS

maxverstappen1: but i called you cool?

yourusername: i'll accept the compliment now, i had to defend charles' honour first

charles_leclerc: heheheehe i'm blushing

maxverstappen1: gross

user50: i need y/n to permanently be in the ferrari garage, they were on it today (i think out of fear)

landonorris: damn i thought i thirdwheeling lestappen was bad, but y/n and charles is a different beast

yourusername: we're both athletes, need to savour the time we have together when we can

charles_leclerc: sorry not sorry you'll get it when you're in love

landonorris: .... i guess i'll die then

fin.

note: i hope you enjoyed !!!! one last WIP to go and good lord the writers block is kicking my ass. but f1 being back should help!!! + f1 academy, much enjoyed it so far.

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #f1 social media au #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc #charles leclerc social media au

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myboipotterimagines · 1 year ago

Text

Golden Pt. 2 - Weasley Twins x Reader

Thank you for all the love on part one. I genuinely love this AU and hope you all do too. <3

Other Parts: Part One

Your eyes flickered between the two Weasley boys, refusing to accept that you could have two soulmates - even though they were looking you straight in the face. "This is a joke, right?" you finally ask. "I don't think anyone could pull off a joke like this," Fred spoke, gently placing his palm back to the matching spot on your cheekbone. "Even us," George laughed. "And why would we? No one dreams of half a soulmate." You don't know why, but your heart aches at his words. "I didn't dream of having you as my soulmate, either," you retort, pulling away from both Weasleys. "Is that so, sweetheart?" He takes a step closer, smirking. "Because the rouge of your cheeks says otherwise."

"Back off her, George," Fred commands, pulling the two of you apart. "We have to get out of here now or Umbridge will kill us. Like actually kill us." "Alright, soulmate. You coming with us or not?" George asks. "Like she's going to go anywhere with us now, George," Fred scoffs. "You're a total-" "I'm in," you say, cutting him off.

Fred pulled you out of the broom closet before you could change your mind. He held onto your hand as the three of you ran through the halls, avoiding the blasts of light above you. Suddenly, curses mixed into the light of the fireworks. You risked a quick look back and saw Umbridge and the rest of her cult following you. "Shit!" you yelled, ducking from a bright red ray of light.

"Accio!" both twins yelled, and after a moment a broom hit each of their hands. They mounted the brooms, Fred pulling you right behind him. You clutch him closely while shooting a string of spells behind you at Umbridge. With a final toss of fireworks, you're gone - Hogwarts far behind.

It was no time before you landed down in Diagon Alley. "What are we doing here?" you ask. The town was a graveyard - each shop having been closed for what seemed to be months.

"Alohamora," George whispered, cracking open a door to a building near the end of the lot. "You are looking at the start of our joke shop - name still pending." "And our home for the next month. If we told our mum we were leaving Hogwarts she would drag us straight back. So we have to wait her out here," Fred adds.

After spelling on the lights, George leads you in. The place was nowhere near finished, but you could see the bones of the operation. Half-finished products were strewn over the ground, haphazard notes that only they could read near each one. "This is really cool," you smile.

"I would advise you not to touch anything. There's a method to our madness and I really don't want you to accidentally blow yourself up," George says. You nod. "No touching. Got it." "Come on, bedroom's this way," Fred leads. You wish you could stop the heat from rising to your face, but George sees it immediately, smirking to himself. You ignore him, following Fred closely up the stairs.

"We didn't really prepare for guests," he admits, rubbing the nape of his neck. You enter the bedroom to find two beds on either side of the wall, an simple dresser by each one. And that was it. Not even a couch. The room was just sad. You laughed, "I can tell. If you can spare a pillow I'll sleep in the corner. It'll be cozy." "You are not sleeping on the floor," both twins immediately protested. "No way we're letting any guest sleep on the ground, let alone our soulmate," George scoffs.

"You'll have my bed tonight. We'll figure something else out by tomorrow," Fred adds.

You protested, of course, but the two fought back harder. You finally just gave in, heading towards the bed. You finally take off your cloak, aching to get out of your whole uniform, but knowing you would have to wait until tomorrow to get anything remotely comfortable to wear.

Fred immediately picks up on your discomfort. "You can wear these tonight," he says, pulling a sweater out of his dresser, then a pair of joggers. You retreat to the bathroom to pull on the clothes, and as you do you notice the golden F stitched into the sweater. You smile as the rub the end of the sleeve between your fingers.

The twins had changed out of their robes by the time you returned. George had already gone to bed, and Fred was waiting for you on his. You sat down beside him, finally taking a moment to rest after the insanity of the day. "Thank you for this," you said, nodding down to your sweater. "And for bringing me with you, and letting me sleep on your bed, and for not meeting me in the way I always feared you would."

Fred brings his hand to your face, holding you from your jaw to your ear, just as he had when you fell. "I don't think my hands could ever hurt you." He spoke the words quietly, but they filled your entire head. When you looked at him, you felt dizzy. It was all too much - his kindness, his brother's apprehension, the fact that they were both your soulmates. Was that even possible? In all your years you'd never heard of a person having two soulmates, let alone at the same time. But there they were. There he was, staring down at you with the kindest eyes you'd ever seen on a man.

"Can I kiss you?" Fred asked. His cheeks rouged as he asked, and yours followed. You couldn't speak, so you just nodded. And then the hand that had settled onto your skin, like it belonged there, pulled you into him. His lips were soft against yours, moving as slowly as a person possibly could. Still, his touch was electric and the shockwaves surged through you.

Your heart lurched in it's chest when he pulled away from you. "Goodnight," he smiled, pushing himself off of his bed. You quickly grabbed his hand, halting him. "Stay." Fortunately, he didn't require much convincing. He let you become comfortable before sliding into bed behind you, wrapping one hand around your waist.

"Merlin," George huffed, causing both of you to jump. "The two of you cannot fit comfortably on that bed. With a quick flick of his hand, his bed pushed against his brothers, the sheets melding together. You yelped as strong hands pulled you up from the outside of the bed and plopped you back down right in the middle. "I will not be cuddled by Fred in my sleep again. I trust you to keep your distance."

"With all due respect, Georgie. You are the last person I would want to cuddle in this room," Fred shot back, wrapping a protective arm around you. "I would sure hope so," he rolled his eyes, finally lowering himself into bed beside you. He didn't bother to face the other direction, instead studying your face. Against your will, you blushed once more - which only caused him to smirk. "Sweet dreams, princess," he teased.

"Sweet dreams, Georgie," you smiled back, finally causing his cheeks to burn.

***

Author's Note: I'm thinking about making this a series. Let me know what you all think. And if I do make it a series - would y'all want smut or no?

Next in the series: Part Three, Part Four, Part Five

#fred weasley x reader #george weasley x reader #weasley twins x reader #fred weasley x reader x george weasley #why choose #soulmates au #harrypotter imagine #george weasley imagine #harry potter imagine #fred weasley imagine

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yncoreee · 19 days ago

Text

CUTIE CUTIE. Eunchae x reader

Synopsis— your girlfriend got carried away babying you, she didn’t notice the door swinging open

Warnings .ᐟ requested, kissing, lil bit rushed (so sorry), they get caught, secret relationship au, idol x idol!reader, 06’ liner reader,happy eunchae day! Will try to post some of my many planned fics today but no promises, female reader, FLUFF

꩜ — ⵌWord count 886

The dorm was filled with nothing but the comforting silence. The other members were out doing one thing or the other for their leisure time. But you and eunchae decided it was best to stay alone at the dorm as the busy schedule through out the whole week had affected the rate at which you spent Time with each other (off cameras)

You laid comfortably on her laps humming in satisfaction as you scrolled through your phone. While her hands tangled in between the strands of your hair.

Being in a secret relationship especially of the same group had it’s peeks. The both of you hardly having any time for each other except when at the dorms. And always trying to act romantic in a platonic way in front of the members so as not to seem suspicious.

There we’re limits you and eunchae reached once you saw one of the older members giving you a raised eyebrow.

Today was one of the free lucky days the both of you had some time alone together. It usually got interrupted by one member or the other following the sequence oldest -> youngest.

The most recent person was kazuha so eunchae was guessing maybe it was sakura next.

“Do you think it’s kkura-Unnie that’s going to interrupt us this time?” Eunchae asked her hands beneath her chin.

You let out a chuckle at her prediction. “Mmm maybe, who knows. Maybe it will actually be all the members” you sighed, your cheeks slightly puffed with air.

“Awww you’re so cute, cutie cutie” eunchae cooed, her hands finding it’s way to reach your cheeks, lightly squishing it.

“Hey?!” You yelled pouting, immediately taking your head off her laps. You glared at her while your arms were folded across your chest, a light pout forming on your lips.

“Rahhh!!! Cuteness overload” eunchae squealed dramatically clutching onto her chest, her hands coming up to tickle your sides.

You let out small giggles, tears forming in your eyes from the non stop laughter. “Chae stop!” You said in between laughs.

“No way!”

Eunchae took a brief moment to admire your cuteness. She watched as a big smile was apparent on your mouth, your eyes forming into a crescent shaped to show how genuine the laughter was.

Slowly she unconsciously leaned in closer, her face was so close you could practically feel her breath tickling against yours. The more she leaned the closer your lips got.

It was about to meet finally until—

“WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE?!!” Chaewon yelled causing eunchae to immediately back off. The both of you turning to face the other members with widened eyes. Their expressions mirroring yours.

“Unnies….? Since when have you been standing there?” Eunchae nervously chuckled, scratching the back of her neck.

“Long enough to see you almost kissing y/n” sakura responded, looking at eunchae with unreadable expressions.

“Since when has this been going on?” Chaewon asked sternly, only raising one eyebrow.

“Ummm for about six months” you gulped, swallowing a huge lump down your throat. You couldn’t even bring yourself to look Any of them in the eye.

Your hands fumbled it way into interlocking with eunchae’s. She took your hand in hers looking over at you with a smile that said. “We got this”.

“OMG THEY LOOK SO CUTE TOGETHER!!!” Yunjin squealed taking note of the hand holding.

“Yunjin shut up.” Chaewon face palmed pulling yunjin back. “I’m honestly still speechless. But I want to hear the rest opinions on this. I personally don’t know if it’ll be better if you guys broke up” chaewon shrugged, eunchae looking at her with scared and sad faces.

“No no Unnie please….anything but that” you pleaded tears almost forming in your eyes.

“But—“

“They’re right chae, them breaking up won’t be the best idea. You know y/n and eunchae share a really close bond and that might affect their interactions in the group if they break up. I don’t think it’s much of a big deal and actually support them, as long as they’re both happy and they keep the relationship a secret” sakura stated, her wise words sinking into Chaewon’s head.

“You got a point there Unnie, what about you yunjin?” Chaewon asked turning to yunjin.

“Me? I honestly think they’re so so so cute together, like come on two babies in a relationship??? Rahhhh they’re even holding hands!” Yunjin burst into excitement, dramatically plopping herself right on the chair.

“Zuha?”

“Huh? I don’t know. I don’t have a problem with it. Plus Yunjin Unnie is right, they look so cute together” kazuha sighed dreamily.

“Mmm. Since most of you all—“

“Except you”

Chaewon glared at eunchae. “Yes except me, are fine by it. Then it’s final the couple stays”

Eunchae looked up at chaewon with sparkles in her eyes. “Omg thank you so much Unnies!!!” She jumped up and down excitedly. “So can I kiss y/n now?”

“NO!”

“Get a room”

“DEFINITELY!!!!!”

“I don’t know, I’m going to my room”

Eunchae didn’t mind the others comment and instead leaned closer to capture your lips.

Chaewon yelling in the background, sakura unbothered by it, yunjin squealing like a tire wheel, kazuha already off to bed.

“You’re the greatest thing that can happen to me” eunchae said, cupping your cheeks.

“HONG EUNCHAE I SAID NO!!”

#lesserafim #lesserafim x reader #lesserafim x you #lesserafim fluff #lesserafim eunchae #eunchae x reader #eunchae fluff #fluff

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lani-heart · 1 month ago

Text

|| series masterlist || next // previously ||

genre(s) -> angst, fluff, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au paring(s) -> ( eventually ) ATEEZ x reader warning(s) -> mental health, abandonment issues, abuse, etc. words -> 4.4k

abstract -> one week can create a lot of attachments...

mingi's perspective

Today was Saturday… and also technically my first day here. The week is gonna be a living pure hell…

Hongjoong just told me everything not to do and who to find to make it easier. I needed to befriend Wooyoung… But I could do that when I was in my temporary room while everyone ate in the dining room. I was hungry… I was really hungry and I smelled meat. It felt like I was being tortured…

I suddenly heard a knock… “Mingi?” I heard. I rushed to open the door as I saw the human girl… she had a plate of meat and then instant ramyeon and the good brand!

“I know you probably lied about not being hungry. I know you won’t be comfortable eating with us but don’t starve. You’ll get sick” she said and gently scolded me as she handed me the food. “Thank you,” I said and I could help my tail to wag so much. “If you want more, you can get more in the kitchen,” she said as she left.

I haven’t had meat in years! My old owner never wanted to give us food like this and even the ramyeon we couldn’t afford to spend on good brands. I hate that I was hungry afterward… I took a year’s worth of courage to go outside and walk out to see them eat at a table all together.

“Mingi!” she said and the hybrids soon deflated in their moods. “Are you still hungry?” she asked and I nodded the whole way looking down. “Here, you can sit next to Wooyoung,” she said as she pointed at the fox hybrid.

The one I had to befriend was the fox hybrid... okay progress!

“The cooks are Wooyoung and Seonghwa. I haven’t cooked in a while since I love their cooking too much” she said while laughing and I understood what she meant.

“It's really good. I don’t think I ever ate such good food” I said and I saw the fox hybrid smile. “You see Yeosang! We don’t need fried chicken!” he scolded as he smiled at me. Seonghwa also smiled softly from what I said. I think that's Seonghwa...

He’s the other tiger that Hongjoong mentioned… right?

“Here, you should eat more! I heard wolves need to eat a lot of meat!” Wooyoung said as he filled my plate with more meat.

“Please, we're supposed to eat more vegetables, yet Hongjoong won’t touch it” the panther said and everyone laughed while my roommate scoffed.

“It doesn’t taste good, so why should I waste my time eating it?” he asked and I laughed softly.

“Mingi, important question. It’ll be important for your stay here” Wooyoung said and I felt nervous. “Do you prefer beef or chicken?” he asked and I was confused… Was this important?

“I guess beef," I said truthfully and I noticed they all laughed but one… he rolled his eyes.

“Yeosang it's now five against one” Wooypung said and I was confused but I saw how easily they all talked to each other… It made me miss Yunho.

“Hey, Mingi… why’d you steal from y/n?” Wooyoung asked and I felt all eyes on me. “You don’t have to answer that, no pushing him” she told me then scolded the hybrids.

“We needed money… we were gonna steal from her wallet at first but Yunho noticed she looked sad so he wanted to comfort her. I was gonna steal her wallet but Yunho would signal me not to… he scolded me twice for stealing from her but we really needed the money” I said and y/n smiled softly.

“He really did feel guilty for stealing from you when you were so sad! I feel bad too…” I said and she shook her head. “It's all in the past now” she said and I couldn’t help but feel guilty.

“I couldn’t imagine surviving in the streets,” Wooyoung said and I sighed… “How long were you guys on the streets?” Seonghwa asked and I chuckled… “Almost two years,” I said and it seemed to shock them all.

“That long?! How did your owner not find you two?!” Wooyoung asked quite loudly. “We would move from place to place… they live far from Seoul, they're only ever here for business but I doubt they’ll ever come back here again,” I said sadly…

“You miss him a lot don’t you?” y/n asked and I nodded. “He was my only friend… my owners didn’t want me and I’m a lot weaker than a wolf should be,” I said and she shook her head.

“Humans are almost always bad… most of us here have experienced it” the dog hybrid said bitterly while a lot of them nodded.

“I wasn’t wanted either,” Wooyoung said and I was shocked. “My owner passed away and I went to her daughter’s family… she was pregnant when I passed down to her. I begged my owner to leave me with y/n but she refused saying I would be too much to handle for a student… but I was too much for her daughter instead” he said sadly…

“Did you run away?” I asked and he shook his head.

“When she had the baby, she tried juggling a newborn baby and… me. I’m a lot to handle, I was in the facility originally for hyperactivity. Most people wouldn’t want a hybrid who is as energetic as I am. But I met y/n again and she adopted me” he said now in a happy tone.

I soon heard a series of coughs…

“Oh shut up, San,” he said… the panther hybrid was San. “He likes to tease me saying that y/n only adopted me because he asked her,” he said and I chuckled softly… they all seemed very close.

“I was the first hybrid,” he said and the fox scoffed. “I knew her longer than you!” he argued.

“Childish the both of you” Seonghwa muttered as Hongjoong and the dog hybrid laughed…

That would mean he was Yeosang… stay away from him...

AND I ALREADY MADE HIM ANGRY BY CHOOSING BEEF OVER CHICKEN! IS IT TOO LATE TO CHANGE MY ANSWER?!

“Mingi, what are you being treated for?” Hongjoong asked and I actually didn’t know… “He’s being treated for anxiety and a dependent disorder” y/n answered.

“What's a dependent disorder?” Seonghwa asked.

“Ooh! I know! It's when a hybrid isn’t able to take care of themselves because of the dependency of others!” Wooyoung said proudly to know that but I was left confused… I had that?! “I’m guessing you didn’t know?” y/n asked me and I shook my head.

“I’m sorry for being such a burden” I muttered and bowed my head “You aren’t. I hope none of us make you feel like that,” she said and I couldn’t understand her kindness…

She made me feel guilty.

Sunday… It was usually a day I despised.

People would be all over the street but I woke up for the first time warm… Hongjoong was still asleep. I walked outside hoping to find the bathroom when I bumped into the dog hybrid…

“Ah! I’m sorry!” I said while bowing.

He sighed before nodding and walking away.

“Stupid Yeosang! Never does anything right! Ugh! I’m gonna tell y/n and we’ll see how he likes it when– AHHH '' I also bumped into Seonghwa complaining about the dog hybrid.

“Good Morning… sorry you heard me,” he said and I shook my head. “You look lost,” he said and I laughed awkwardly. “Is it that obvious?” I asked and he smiled softly and nodded.

“I wanted to find the bathroom?” I asked and he nodded. “There's one over here but Yeosang went over there, here I’ll lead you” he offered and I thanked him as I followed the tiger.

“Hongjoong told me he gave you rules?” he asked and I shook my head. “He warned me, '' I said and he laughed.

“What’d he say?” he asked me as we now stood in front of the bathroom.

“To stay away from San and Yeosang… to befriend Wooyoung and to be careful of what I say around the two of you,” I said and he smiled softly.

“Yeosang and San are the most protective of y/n… we all are but those two especially. We went through it too, kind of still do but don’t worry too much” he said and I nodded.

“Thank you,” I said as he now left me alone…

What did Yunho say about her again? y/n seems to really care for her hybrids… so why were they taken away from her… he mentioned that when he comforted her. They were taken away from her.

Despite her caring for them… we assumed she did something to them.

Was that right though?

I heard banging on the door scaring me and taking me out of my train of thought. “YEOSANG GET OUT! YOU TAKE FOREVER!” I heard yelling and I opened the door when I saw the fox hybrid’s eyes widen in shock.

“Ah! Sorry, I thought you were Yeosang… only he locks the door of the shower and isn't running” he apologized and I shook my head.

It was their home… I was just intruding.

“Hey, if you ever want to talk about what happened at your old home you can talk to me,” he said and offered me a smile.

My old home? Was that ever home?

Monday was a busier day than yesterday.

Sunday I was deep in thought as I hung out with Wooyoung and the panther… they even taught me how to play games on the TV.

Today, however, I slept in… only waking up because of Hongjoong.

“What do you mean she’s gonna file a lawsuit?!” I heard as all of her hybrids were waiting for her phone call to finish… She was mad… I could tell.

“Yeah… I know, bye” she said clearly fuming. “Who is suing?” Seonghwa asked softly and she sighed.

“Is it my owner?” I asked and she turned around to me and smiled softly. “I’m gonna head out, I need to talk to someone. You guys behave” she said as I saw Yeosang follow her.

“What’s gonna happen?” Wooyoung asked and the oldest shook their heads… they didn’t know.

“It would depend on the lawsuit,” I said and they nodded. I felt like this was my fault… “Mingi don’t blame yourself okay? It’s not your fault” Seonghwa comforted but it didn’t help.

Wooyoung tried distracting everyone saying he was gonna make chicken today since Yeosang has been complaining recently…

“Are you gonna be okay?” San said as I looked behind me to see y/n… she nodded

“It’s not the first lawsuit I’ve had. I’m gonna meet with a lawyer, and trust me you guys don’t have to worry, everything is fine, it's just some petty little lawsuit to discuss some finances” she explained and they nodded.

I felt guilty…

Tuesday wasn’t any better. She said everything was gonna be settled but I didn’t know what I was doing… I was still missing Yunho.

“Mingi?” I heard as I saw her and Yeosang. “Do you want to come with me? I’m gonna meet up with your owner and it’s possible that Yunho is there?” She asked and I nodded

I answered quickly but I really wanted to see him.

“Ok, Yeosang is gonna help get you ready. I’ll be in the kitchen okay?” I nodded a little nervously to be around the dog hybrid.

“Don’t do anything stupid” he muttered once she left. “If she comes back hurt in any way, you’re dead” he warned and I nodded. He started getting me ready… he was the one who knew the most about living… at least I assumed.

“You’re lucky she’s even taking you” he muttered and I chuckled. “I’m lucky to even be alive” I whispered and I didn’t see his look of confusion until he asked… “What do you mean by that?”

“Hmm? Oh… that’s nothing to worry about. I’ll get ready now”

We made it to a law firm… I heard of the law firm before. My owner would try to get lawyers from here but was always rejected.

“Why would you bring that mutt?!” I heard as I looked down. “Ladies, refrain from fighting. If you could go to look at Mr. Jung’s office?” he said as he led them away.

“Why are you with her?” I heard as I saw the golden retriever hybrid dressed in nice clothing… he always had the better treatment.

“She’s fostering me… it’s a favor she owes from the doctor” I explained and he sighed. “Don’t get attached to her… if she’s fostering you then it’s only temporary right?” He asked and that felt like a stab.

If it was Yunho would she have adopted him? Of course, she would… he was a purebred, well-behaved… the better hybrid.

“Mingi? You’re in your head again” he said and for some reason, I didn’t want to talk to him… I was happy to see him, but why do I feel this burning feeling?

“Is she at least good to you?” He asks and I nod. “I got to eat meat on my first day there,” I said and he chuckled. “Yesterday the family had a Korean barbecue… they’re sure that they’ll win the lawsuit,” he said and I felt bitter.

He always got everything… Why didn’t I run away by myself? Oh… cause I’m not smart… I wouldn’t have survived on my own. He would… he would’ve been better off without me.

“Mingi… talk to me. Did you ask her to foster you to see me?” He asked and I scoffed. “Mingi, I'm sorry but everything is falling apart. We can’t see each other anymore… it’ll hurt us more than good” he said and I knew I had to let go of him…

He was doing it because he was their hybrid… I was just a hybrid no one wanted.

Wednesday… I spent it in my bed.

I couldn’t bear to do anything.

“Get up!” I got yelled at but I didn’t react. “Come on! You haven’t even eaten yet… y/n is worried about you” Hongjoong said and I wondered why?

I wasn’t her hybrid? I wasn’t her responsibility.

“You came back yesterday like this… what’s bothering you?” He asked and I didn’t want to tell him. He left thankfully but I soon heard the door open again.

“Mingi?” Why was she here?

I sat up and saw her. She brought food… “I’m not hungry,” I said I didn’t want to get attached to the food… I would miss it too much. “What’s bothering you?” She asked and I shook my head. “I wanna go back to the facility,” I said and she sighed.

“Kun told me on Saturday,” she said and I knew she had to complete a week. It’s already been four days? Just two more until Saturday….

“Mingi…tell me what’s wrong,” she said and I felt tears pool my eyes. “Yunho… why did they keep him and not me?” I let out and she sighed as she hugged me…

She didn’t say anything. So I finally let everything out…

“I always got his leftovers… they never cared for me. Why was I so unlucky?! You treat all your hybrids equally… or am I just inferior to him?” I asked her and he petted my head.

“I think you’re amazing how you are. You easily get along with Wooyoung, Seonghwa, and Hongjoong. A little secret between you and me? You get along with them better than anyone here” she said and j was confused.

“I know San, Yeosang, and Hongjoong are trouble while Seonghwa and Wooyoung are easier but they’re also very bitter against other hybrids” she explained

“Still till this day even after four months of knowing the tigers, Yeosang doesn’t get along with Seonghwa… or not in a normal way,” she said and I chuckled.

Those two were often arguing with each other I’ve seen.

“Eat okay? Don’t compare yourself when you’re fine the way you are”

Thursday... It was hard knowing I’d go back to the facility…

I’d never get adopted. I know that and I’ve accepted it. It was strange though… I’ve never made friends other than Yunho. This was an experience that was only mine… not with him.

“Mingi?” I heard Wooyoung come in… “I brought you breakfast,” he said with a cautious smile and I thanked him but he didn’t leave.

“You shouldn’t be too upset… who cares about your old owner, you're really fun. If I was human I would adopt you” he said and it made me feel a bit better.

“I’m sorry for all the trouble I caused… I shouldn’t have tested my luck with y/n” I said and he shook his head. “You did what you needed to survive,” he said as he rubbed my shoulder trying to comfort me…

“Do you wanna eat with us today? There's more food in the kitchen… this won’t really make you full” he said as I saw the plate… It was toast with fruit.

I’m guessing he did that on purpose…

I followed him and I saw all the hybrids sitting at their table eating and chatting with y/n in the middle of San and Yeosang… “Mingi!” she said happily when she saw me. “Finally,” Hongjoong said and I knew he was probably sick of not having his private space…

“Come on,” Wooyoung said as I looked next to him.

“y/n are you going to see the lawyer again?” I asked and she nodded hesitantly… she was dressed formally so I assumed she was. “Can I come with you?” I asked and her smile fell… “Look Mingi I think seeing your old–” “I just want to say goodbye to Yunho” I said and her eyes widened…

“I know I need to let him go and I will… it's part of the treatment right?”

“As you know, hybrids aren’t allowed to pass here. We’ll keep an eye on them for you Miss. l/n '' the receptionist said to her to which she nodded and faced us.

“San be nice, and don’t cause trouble please,” she asked the panther who asked to join us… I still didn't know why but I assumed because he didn’t trust me. “And Mingi don’t push yourself to do anything, San will protect you,” she said the panther stayed silent but I nodded.

She left me alone with San…

“Are you really gonna say goodbye to that dog?” San asked and I nodded. “I can’t hold on to him like this… I’ll live the rest of my life in that facility, I’ll never be able to see him again” I confessed and he sighed.

“You know I don’t remember much about my life anymore but I remember the facility I was in and I thought that I would stay at the adoption center until I died… I probably would've already been dead by now if it wasn’t for her'' he said and I envied him.

“Are there more people like her?” I asked and before he answered I saw the she-devil and Yunho come in.

“Right, this way ma’am,” the receptionist said as she scoffed and didn’t even look at us while throwing her jacket at Yunho.

He was walking towards the seats when he saw us…

“Mingi…” he muttered, almost frustrated… he sat next to me a little wearily from the panther…

“I told you that this–” “I know, so I'm saying goodbye. We’ll never see each other again and I know that. My week is almost down with y/n” I said and he nodded giving me a sad look. “I’m sorry for ruining everything,” I said and he shook his head. “Why don’t you just run now?” San asked and I laughed.

“We would’ve been caught eventually… it wouldn't be worth it,” I said and I didn’t notice how Yunho had tears in his eyes until I saw him… almost like it was still a possibility. He always was the positive one out of the two of us.

“Why are you talking and asking if you're dying?” Yunho asked and I smiled. “I mean… isn't it kinda the same? I’ll never see you–" "But I don’t want that” he cried…

“I’d rather be in the streets than with her… I miss you and we could do it again. Lets run–” he said standing up but I grabbed his shirt, snapping him out of it.

“I can't do that,” I said and he hugged me tightly…

“Is she not gonna adopt you?” Yunho asked and I shook my head. “No… she never was like you said it was temporary, it was just a favor–” “Do you want her to adopt you?” San cut me off and I looked at him confused… I’ve gotten to know the panther whilst staying at his home…

He hates people but stays away from hybrids because of some triggers he has from his past… he’s been kind to me though and he even taught me how to play some games he plays… but I’m not the best in fact I think he’d get along with Yunho more

“I couldn’t… I don’t belong there” I said and he stayed silent.

No matter how much I wanted to say yes… I couldn’t be selfish

Friday… officially my last day here

I’ll miss it here and I'll miss Yunho

I came out for lunch today and I didn’t see y/n?

“Mingi! Come!” Wooyoung said as I sat next to him. “What’s your favorite food?” Wooyoung asked and I didn’t know… “I don’t know… I really liked the meat you made on my first day here” I said and he laughed.

“Then you haven’t tried a lot of food,” he said and I shook my head. “Have you ever tried fried chicken?” San asked and I shook my head. I looked at the Doberman who made a shocked face… he didn’t show a lot of emotion but he did at the moment making everyone laugh

“You really haven’t lived a life,” Yeosang said and I chuckled. “I haven’t you're right,” I said and I didn’t mean to make them sad.

“If it makes you feel better before getting adopted, Me, Hongjoong, and San never tried most food either,” Seonghwa said and I nodded.

“Hey, the only reason I know how fried chicken tasted was because I ate it in secret at parties,” Yeosang said and it made me sad how much hybrids suffer…

“Where’s y/n?” I asked and they smiled ominously… “She’ll be back later,” Wooyoung said.

“Mingi, did you ever want to do anything when you were trapped in your old home? Or when you were on the streets?” Hongjoong asked me and I nodded.

“Of course I did… but I always wanted to do them with Yunho” I confessed and they sighed. “Mingi, what would you do if you got adopted?” Wooyoung asked and I didn’t know how to answer… “I don’t think that would ever happen,” I said instead and he frowned.

“You never know,” Seonghwa said and it looked like they knew something…

“Hey Mingi?” San said and I was shocked he initiated anything… “You need to have more confidence… that dog isn't better than you. You aren’t better than us, and we aren't to you so you need to grow a pair and quit being so insecure and acting like your life is over '' he said and I knew he was right…

“San…” Seonghwa said while going into whispers scolding the panther… “I know… but it's hard to have hope when I've always been called a runt, '' I said.

“I was the runt of my litter too,” San said and I felt my eyes widen. “YOU WERE?!” Wooyoung yelled and he nodded.

“I was in the illegal hybrid rings a few years back from what I was told… I don’t remember much and I'm prone to getting sick more often” he confessed.

“But you don’t look like one” I muttered and he laughed. “Well no… but neither do you. I do have to do constant checkups with that doctor. I also did daily checkups in the adoption center because of my health” he confessed and I never would have known.

He was the scariest hybrid after Yeosang but… I really never would have known.

“So using that you are a runt really isn’t an excuse” Hongjoong confirmed and I chuckled. “Yeah I guess it isn't…” I muttered.

“I’m back!” I heard as I saw y/n with a bunch of bags and even a friend with her. “Ooh! You were right, everything should suit him” the girl said excitedly while staring at me?

“That’s Wonyoung, she’s a model and good friend of y/n’s” Yeosang said and I nodded. “Thanks, Wonnie '' she said and they said bye to each other when I realized the scattered bags and boxes with designer logos on them.

“Mingi, I hope you liked it here?” she asked and I smiled. “I did… thank you,” I said wanting to say that anyone would be lucky to live with them… that I wish I could stay.

“I have a gift for you actually,” she said and I was confused. “For me?” I asked and she smiled while handing me a black box with a white bow on the top.

I unwrapped it when I saw a card…

“An adoption card?” I asked and she smiled. I saw it was for me with… her name? “But… I was supposed to leave–" "Open the rest of the present,” she said, cutting me off and I did see the wrapped collar matching with the hybrids behind me.

It was a light brown collar that almost looked pink with reddish jewels on it. I didn’t know what to say… I was in shock.

“We really liked you being here… everyone would have missed you if you went back and I’d regret it,” she said and I wanted to hug her but I didn't know what to do. She must've noticed since she came closer to hug me.

“Ooh! Can we choose your hair color!” Wooyoung asked and I laughed. “You really do need a haircut,” Yeosang said and I agreed.

“I know you’ll always miss Yunho but I hope you like it here too,” y/n said and I smiled.

“I will, I’ll be the happiest here”

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