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theactofknowing · 1 month ago

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take a shot for me

You and Jayce Talis are friends — good friends, even — and it’s no surprise for the two of you to be found drinking. You’re young, free from the shackles of true responsibility, and the bar is the perfect place to go.

What does surprise you, however it came to be, is what falls into your hands when you invite him into your apartment after a night out.

tags: smut, mutual pining, AU!modern setting but it’s not explicitly stated, sub!jayce, WHO SAID THAT(!!!), loss of virginity because HELLO JAYCE ARCANE. NOT beta read. forgive me

wc: 4.5k

Golden eyes — happy sun-yellow, warm and bubbling companionably with tipsy indulgence — meet yours.

Your gaze falters for a moment as you take him in; the unsteady lean against the bar which he tries to play off as a suave stance, the slight shine on his lips from his drink.

“You’re such a lightweight,” Jayce says, small smile curling his lips — which are only slightly asymmetrical, you’ve stared at them often enough to recognize it.

The recognition you have has been built over the past months. Two academy students; oriented together in the same lectures seats apart, till the courses increased and the distance dimmed, sat side-by-side.

Your connection had grown in the class setting, though it thrived outside of it— blooming like a flower exposed to the sun. Conversations started with work, class, then shifted into something more boisterous, entertaining, to nights in the bar more than was healthy.

“Bull,” you retort, making move to stand from your chair. You’d meant to leave ages ago, when you saw how depressing the bar life had been. It was a weekday, and you and Jayce were mixed along with divorced singles and depressed fathers. Jayce’s company, however, kept you idle.

He’s kind enough to not mention your slight sway when you rise from your seat. You pull your coat on, closing it under your chin, and he does the same.

“Take me home,” you say, joke lacing your tone, and he complies. He holds his arm out for you to grasp onto, which you gratefully take as he leads the two of you into the chilly night.

“Do we have a drinking problem?” You ask, recalling your frequency at the bar. You pull yourself closer to his side, leeching the warm heat that emulated from him as easy as breathing.

The night streets are dimmed, shrouding the intricate architecture and well-loved streets from your eyes. It meant little, not when the both of you knew the way like muscle memory. Your feet carry you easily, shuffling softly against the streets.

In the dark, you can’t see his features when he turns to look at you, making his voice more clear in the position. “Maybe you do,” he says, and you know he has a smug look on his face, one eyebrow raised — the right one, with the knick in it. Part of you wishes to see it.

You scoff, playfully swatting his padded arm as you accuse him of being beside you all those drunken nights. Youthful laughter echoes through the street, quieting down as you turn once, twice onto your street.

He departs from you, keeping an eye as you reach your apartment door. You stand there silently for a moment, contemplating, then turn towards him. You know you must look odd, fondling the doorknob and standing still like you don’t know how to open your door.

“Do you want to come in?” You ask, surprising yourself with the question as you do. You aren’t sure what your intentions are; helping a friend get out of the climate, or help him take his pants off. Either would be fine.

Fortunately the weather has long turned cold, winter swirling around the corner, and the wind is the perfect explanation for the heat in your cheeks — just nipped numb and warm from the weather, nothing more.

His brows raise in surprise, like he isn’t sure either of your intent either. “Yeah, yes.”He nods quickly, taking a moment to bury his face in his coat as you turn away.

Your home is dark, quiet, with midnight-moon light painting a cool glow over the belongings within. Flicking on one light, a lamp near the couch, you move with a one-track mind.

Shucking off your coat, then hobbling over to rip your shoes off, which Jayce laughs at when you stumble, though he denies this. You ask yourself why you invited him in as you move about, though you aren’t opposed to the idea — you enjoy his company, his refreshing intelligence, the kindness he possessed to do good and share it.

You plop yourself on the couch, your lack of full sobriety existing as a slight tingle behind your eyes, giving you the kick you need. “Come hither,” you joke, motioning with your finger as you rest your head against one cushion.

Jayce has been in your home often enough to recognize where his belongings go, how you want him to kick his shoes off at the door, before moving to join you. He laughs quietly and sits down next to you, eyes swimming with subdued mirth.

It’s comfortable, sitting together and letting companionable silence come and go like the wind. Easy conversation flows between you, speaking on projects and things processed in the academy, papers to be done and stamped.

Eventually, your mind starts to wander. His voice fades into the background, a warm sound that reminds you of blankets and drinks together, although it means little in the moment.

Openly, you watch his lips. You wonder if they’re soft, if you can taste the drink on his breath and lick the remnants from his mouth. Typically you’d reel these thoughts in, slap a big shame sticker atop them, though you have little care in your happy state.

You begin to scoot closer, inch by inch. Jayce doesn’t notice till he does, eyebrows silently furrowed as he tries to deduce if you’ve moved closer, or if he’s had too much to drink.

You’re not quite sure what your plan is, what your means are. Distracted by the premise of your feelings, Jayce could ask you if you were an idiot, and in your otherworldly state you’d probably say yeah, sure, without processing the question.

One inch, then another, and you’re sat beside him. You can feel his legs shift beside you, always having to move, to fidget. He’s long been quiet, watching you with open curiosity and, perhaps wariness, as you gaze upon him.

Your head comes to rest upon his shoulders, and you know the angle looks good on you — coy smile pulling at your lips, long lashes fluttering around your open, speaking eyes — and he stares at you in surprise.

Slipping slowly, your hand trails up his bicep — you’re unsure what your plan is, but it feels good to exist here, here in the moment, and maybe your past self was wrong for withholding you — and settles on the curve of his chest.

There’s a clear shift in the means of his visit by now, and he’s caught on. He’s watching, waiting expectantly, seeing if this is a prank or something more, something real and curling around his heart.

Yellow eyes turned sunset-sky dark, overshadowed by the slight of his dilated pupils, watch you. There’s a question lingering in his open eyes, one of uncertainty and for the knowledge of more.

“Jayce,” you sigh, unable to articulate your want and your certainty through nothing more than a whisper. Your hands are at his chest — not quite pawing at the softness like you’d like — fingers drawing impatient lines.

A breath, two, then you will yourself to move in. You feel air pass between you, still shifting into electric sparks as your lips near one another. You can envision the curve of his lips as your lids shut, how it’ll feel licking into his mouth. Just before they do, Jayce stops you.

“I’m…” his voice is low, face pinched in a grimace. “I’ve never, I’m…”

Never… what? And oh, surprise hits you like a truck when the realization settles. Jayce Talis, a virgin? Your thoughts must show on your face because he starts to scoot away from you, shutting himself out.

Quickly, you grab his bicep. “That’s okay.” You squeeze reassuringly, hoping and praying you haven’t scared him off. Jayce was, above all else and the lust in your brain, once of your closest friends. “Seriously. And I’m fine going as fast or… or as slow as you want.”

He looks at you disbelievingly, though a hesitant smile plays on his face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you confirm. Shamefully, part of you revels in this. Heat licks at your groin at the thought of being the only one to see him so, to have his hands on your skin and voice in your ear.

He’s not saying no to you, he’s warning you, between the lines saying he wants you to be the first. You should take this revelation slow, have a first date and build up the promise of the good he could have. Your mouth moves before you can decide. “Let me… show you a good time?”

He nods, both of you lost for words as the gap diminishes. The ache inside you — thumping heavily in your chest and urging your hands to move, feel — burns brighter, gasoline of his lips exciting it so.

The moment your lips connect, you can’t help but sigh. The sparks you felt are burning, urging you to slip closer, to shut your eyes snd let the waves wash over you.

Jayce is enthusiastic, lips clumsily pressing against yours in a rhythm that’s hard to follow. You don’t find fault in that, not when you know you’re shaking with just as much need as he is. In the interval, where your breaths are one and your skin is hot, his need slips and he begins to follow your lead.

You push him against the couch, eyes still shut and unwilling to depart from him more than necessary. He gasps into your mouth when you settle in his lap, fists clenched painfully at his sides as he’s uncertain of what to do, how to do it.

Unrelenting, you push further into him. He loves this, it seems, as he arches in response, curling himself into the warmth and smell of you. Your hands slip beneath his shirt, memorizing the dips and curves of his body on the chance you’ll never experience this again. Ever the multitasker, your hands begin to fumble the buttons on his shirt, painstakingly slipping them free till his torso is bare to you.

Your lips separate from his, dragging a slick trail of kisses of want across his cheek, jaw, the thin skin by his ear. Oh, you know you’re doing something right when his head falls to your shoulder, pitched sigh of his gracing your ear as you suck the skin.

Flushed, the mark left behind blooms. There’s a tenseness in his shoulders as you draw back to review your work, and for a breath you worry that you’ve done something wrong. It dawns on you when you see the shift of his hips, the slight press into the seat below, that he’s resisting the urge to grind.

Heat blooms in your core when you realize he’s trying to be good, to follow your unspoken instructions to follow your lead. You take incentive and grind your clothed cunt against his tented trousers, the grind wonderfully heavy as the seam of your pants press against your clit.

His hips rut upwards sharply, surprised moan warm against your collarbones. Open-mouthed breaths pass between you, swirling in the air and suffocating in your ears, as the two of you curve together. His upwards grinds are inconsistent and fueled by his natural instinct to move, but lack of experience simmers alongside it.

You whisper Jayce’s name with a soft hand on his chest, which he takes as sign to stop. He doesn’t seem to process that his hips are still shifting an inch, like he’ll explode if he ceases his movements, but he watches you painfully expectantly.

The room is dim as you hadn’t bothered to flick on the light, though an adjacent lamp beams behind your head, haloing a soft glow around your head that blocks the light from kissing along his frame. For a moment you wish you withheld till you got to your bedroom or at least flicked on more light.

That worry passes by quickly when you take in what you can see — the soft parting of his reddened lips, the pleased furrow of his brows — he’s looking at you like you’re the lit candle in a shrouded room, like you’re the illuminated masterpiece of art in a room of lackluster beauties.

You can feel his clothed cock against your core, impatiently pressing close enough as though he could break out of his pants and yours. Grasping the back of the couch, you lean forward. You lift your hips by a few inches, punctuating your lifted dance with a hearty grind.

Curling and warming; you’d been tipsy when you entered your apartment, drink pulsing in your blood and inebriating your veins. Arousal and want for more pulsed instead, shaking your hands and holding your breath, and you weren’t sure you could live with the unresolved tension.

“How do you want me?” You ask breathlessly, though you aren’t sure he could answer. He’s been panting against your skin, wet lips dragging along the unmarred canvas. His grip on you, once shy and courteous, now hold you with such strength that he could fuck up into you however.

A whine. “My hands? Mouth? …” there’s a question that hangs in the silence. Do you want to fuck me? It asks. You swallow thickly imagining it, of him bending you over the couch or you in his lap, whispering in his ear as he whimpered in yours. He must be imagining the same because he presses into your heat, jumpy for you.

“You— well, hah,” Jayce babbles, sentence accentuated by his soft moan. You can hear the click of his throat as he swallows, voice almost hoarse as he speaks, “anywhere, anything. Just you, please.”

Your breath stutters for a moment, unsure how to respond appropriately. You lean forward and press your lips to his — sharing your unspoken want through unrelenting kisses, your shared pining in your teeth as you nip at his lip.

After a breath and slick kisses, you part from him and he lifts himself trying to chase your lips. He looks almost pained to be separated from you, the heat of your body. You shimmy down his frame, nudging his legs apart to kneel between them.

“You’re going to— you want to—?” He asks, shocked at the motion you’ve set. You give him a look, one of disbelief and certainty. He nods, understanding, more than excited to let the waves pass over him.

Your hands settle first at his knees, then slowly dance up the covered skin, fingers twirling and leaving a trail of promises as they near where he must be aching. Every drag upwards seems to hurt him with the way his muscles dramatically tense, brow pinching inch and inch further.

With you gripping his thighs for support, you lean in. You press your mouth against his groin, cheek petting the fabric as you kiss where his cock rests. He jumps like he’s been burned, then curls in towards you like he isn’t sure if he wants to run away or into the feeling.

You take a breath to look up at Jayce, though you don’t separate yourself from him. You imagine that the sensation is dimmed through all the fabric, but his mouth hangs open like you’re already sucking him off. His arm sits on the backrest, curling to press the back of his hand against his open lips.

It must be an erotic sight, you realize. Your frame, small when compared to his in this scenario, pressed against his long, long legs, like you’re trapped there. His eyes — golden sun, marigold circle around his blown pupils — won’t leave yours as you blink hazily up at him, nuzzling against his cock like you’re worshipping it, him.

Pressing your cheek against his thigh, you lift your free hand up. Your fingers dance along the seam of his pants, curling excitedly along where the button rests. One of the two layers that separates you from the heat of him, you’re glad to be rid of it.

You look up to him, silent question gracing him as your nimble digits circle the button. This is his first time — you don’t want to push him, overwhelm him, but you want him — and you can see he’s nervous in the stiffness of his frame.

“We don’t have to do anything.” You softly remind him, fingers smoothing away an invisible wrinkle in his pants. Your hands are antsy.

“No, no— Gods, please—“ he closes his eyes, legs spreading further in an invitation, “I want you.” I want you if you want me, he means.

Jayce’s hands slip to his pants before you can, pushing the button through the eyelet and hold your breath in your chest till it hurts, and you aid him the rest of the way. He moans unashamedly as the heaviest restriction on his cock is freed, leaving him nearly skin clad.

His boxers are still on, too shy and riddled with nerves to expose himself just yet. He’s watching you carefully, waiting to see your reaction as if you’d ever react negatively. You halt his worries by returning to your spot, lashes tickling your cheeks as you mouth along the clear shape of him.

“Fuuuuuuck,” Jayce whines as you suck on the covered tip of his cock. He can’t sit still while your tongue laves the precum-dampened spot on his boxers, wetting the fabric till it plastered to his cock within. His thighs are shaking next to your dipped head, like he’s fighting the urge to clamp them against your skull.

You’ve hardly done anything and he’s already falling apart. You peek up at him to the best of your ability, unwilling to pull away your mouth; his head is tipped back, only leaving his heaving chest for you to see, in and out.

Such open and honest responses have you sighing against him, focusing on the feel of him against you and the heavy pulsing in your cunt. You feel like you’re about to explode, like a bubbling kettle bursting with steam at the edges. Your lid is about to pop.

The pressure has long gone past aching, so you decide to relieve yourself with your free hand. You pop open the button on your pants with a quiet jingle, fingers slipping between your folds. You huff, warm breath wrapping around Jayce’s cock and it jumps against your skin.

There’s a sharp intake of air above you, and you open your eyes to find Jayce watching you. Your gaze meets just as the meat of your palm grinds against your clit, mouth dropping open as pleasure shoots up your spine.

You whimper his name, face shifting momentarily away as you forget what you were occupied with, and he chokes on air. His hand comes down quickly to grasp himself, breathing through the motions, like he was about to cum. “You… oh,” he whispers, starstruck. He’s getting off on this, seeing you lose yourself with his name in your mouth.

He can’t help himself, it seems, as he takes himself fully in hand and his boxers start to fall away. There’s a soft shlick sound that fills the air, wet head of his cock sliding his hands smoothly. His open-mouthed panting shows how overwhelmed he is, how one squeeze too many could have his cum painting his knuckles.

You wonder what he’s thinking about, if he’s imagining fucking you or painting your face. Watching him, you ache. You have to have him now, you decide as his thick hands squeeze himself indulgently.

You bat away his hand and he easily complies, nails poking under the band of his shifting boxers as you look up to him with the unspoken question. He nods enthusiastically, no longer shy and embarrassed, and lifts his hips to assist you.

He pops completely free from his boxers and exhales thankfully. You, on the same level, are incredibly thankful to be here. The tip of his cock shines with precum, twitching something fierce when you reach forward and use your still-slick hand to pull the foreskin down and expose him to the cool air.

Your hand slips, inching down the length of his shaft till your thumb rests on the sensitive circle of skin just by his sack, thumb circling softly. Jayce squirms under the pressure, though unwilling to voice his needs without your say-so or inquiry — always looking to please.

Lips trailing, you kiss up his exposed thigh, biting back a pleased smile when the muscle twitches beneath your touch. Trailing further and further up… you pass by his cock, much to his dismay.

The soft fuzz of his abdomen tickles your face where you press against him, stomach twitching beside you. As you lean more into the couch, his cock presses against your chest. He squirms, as if burdened by the uncomfortable pressure.

“Please,” Jayce says, never having been burdened by his open emotions and desires. You love that about him. He begins to murmur nearly inaudibly, “please, please, please…”

You draw back, looking inquisitively at him. You know you’re playing mean, though you can’t bring yourself to feel guilt. “Please what?”

“I want…” he swallows, thinking about how he should respond. “I want your mouth on me. Please.”

“My mouth was just on you.” You remind him, head tilted to the side.

“My— my cock.” He relents. His ears must be burning with a shocked flush, but you aren’t paying enough attention to actually check. “I want you to suck me off,” he rubs his eyes with the back of his hand, “I feel like I’m about to explode.”

Laughing softly, you move to fulfill his request. The air in your living room has shifted multiple times throughout the evening — once electric and stifling, now shifting into something slower, more memorable.

Your mouth falls open and you lick up the side of his cock, lips plump around his shaft. You can tell he’s shaking from the anticipation, and you wonder how long he’ll last.

You breathe in once and then wrap your lips around the head of his cock, sucking softly as to not overwhelm him.

“Yes— oh, yes,” Jayce is loud with it, his gratitude and pleasure. He’s trying not to move too much underneath you, to let you work as you please, but he can’t resist his back from arching dramatically. You pray the neighbors don’t hear his cries. “Hah, oh…”

Bobbing slightly, you let yourself be lost to the sensation. You urge yourself to take him in further, to press your tongue against his sensitive underside as the head glides smoothly into your waiting mouth. With each slip down, you catch a whiff of him — woodsy like charcoal, mixed in with the natural scent of him that embodies him so well.

You know he’s not going to last longer when his cock twitches in your mouth, gasps of his filling your ears and traveling straight to your clit.

“Oh, you—“ he’s mewling now, unable to resist the slight curve of his hips into your mouth. His hand comes to curl in your hair, not demanding, but rather grounding himself as the world slips away. “Fuck, yes— yesyesyesyes—“

You pull your mouth up as spurts of him start to coat your tongue. He’s fighting to keep his lids open, to watch as you open yourself so readily for him. Lips parting, your tongue cradles the underside of his cock as his cum paints your tastebuds — salty, enticing you for more — and his jumping tip.

He sits still for a moment, recalibrating his sensors as you let the sense wash over you. With one final suck and kiss, which Jayce gasps and jolts with as the sensitivity burns him, you pull off him.

“That was…” Jayce wheezes, dopey smile pulling at his uneven lips. You laugh in agreement, taking in his wrecked form as you do, the sheen on his bare skin. “Holy shit. Get up here,” he leans over and pulls you up onto his lap with a strength you forgot he possessed.

He breathes against you for a moment, arching into your touch as your hands glide across his skin. If he could, you imagine he’d be purring. He pulls back from you to meet your eyes, a powerful glint in his own; the same one he possesses when he has an excellent, exciting plan.

“Can I… return the favor?” His fingers curl at your open waistband, still unbuttoned from your earlier pursuits. At the mention, your arousal floods back overwhelmingly fast, knocking your knees weak. You nod quickly, afraid words would fail you.

Your pants are gone in an instant — albeit with an awkward dance as neither of you want to separate, chests heaving and dragging together in the tight spot you’ve dug — leaving you bare at the waist down. Wet, damp, you press against his open thigh and the slight pressure has your back curling.

“Show me how,” Jayce says, unashamed and eager with a boyish giddiness.

“Take your hand… here like— uhn,” you hold his wrist in your hand, curling his longest fingers forward before his palm kisses your oversensitive clit. His chest puffs out a smidge at your moan, though you make no move to comment on this.

His fingers are stiff in your cunt as they separate your folds, curling in that ‘come hither’ motion you directed to earlier. You’re going to love teaching him, you realize, as he soaks up every lesson you grace him with, responding back as a student more enthusiastic than you.

Overwhelming gratitude falls over you in heavy bursts, trickling down your spine like a thick rainfall. Grinding softly, you lean forward and swallow his fingers in your heat.

You’re not sure if he’s trying to be subtle or doing it subconsciously, though you don’t have the energy to ponder; his cock, not hard, rubs against your leg as your whines and huffs kiss his ears.

“Gods, you’re better than I imagined.” He says against your temple as you lean forward for support, fingers curling in a mind-numbing race that leaves you unable to respond. You moan loudly at the image this paints; him, fucking his fist or his pillow, stifling his whines as he imagines you bent over, mouth open and saying his name. Jayce, Jayce.

You find yourself hurrying, grinding your clit as hard as possible till it hurts. You’ve been on the edge for ages, and now you find yourself overwhelmed by the sense of all around you. Each push of his fingers into you follows the grind of his hips, and you hope he’s imagining taking you, how the warmth of you would envelop his cock.

One proper twist has your legs buckling, clenching as deep as possible around his fingers as your hips stutter. You’re huffing in his ear and he whimpers in yours, dragging his oversensitive cock against the curve of your thigh, and oh, Jayce—

Your head falls against his shoulder. You feel as though you’ve been beaten, dragged, and wrung out— but in a good way, akin to the soreness that follows a massage.

Kissing up his neck when you find yourself, you peck at the spot you left before. He sighs happily, readjusting you in his arms.

“So,” he says, and you can feel his voice vibrate against your lips. You imagine his neck words are partnered with an excited grin, masking the uncertainty he showcased earlier, “how’d I do?”

my inbox is open! feel free to leave comments/ requests, or maybe suggestions for a part two…?

#jayce talis #jayce talis x reader #jayce talis x you #jayce arcane #jayce talis arcane #arcane #arcane fanfic #arcane fanfiction #arcane fandom #jayce talis smut #arcane jayce

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eightmakesonebraincell · 10 months ago

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ateez as pirates who fall for you (hyung line)

read maknae line here

genre: pirate!ateez x gn!reader (fem!reader for hongjoong), fluff, angst, crack, and as always - a brainrot of every pirate trope to exist

length: 10.4k

c/w: heavy and mature themes - mdni, explicit language (swearing, insults), death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, illegal acts (piracy, ransoming, verbal abuse, abduction), alcohol, pet names

a/n: maknae line will come yes but who knows when 🤷‍♀️ work has been really testing my dopamine vibes this year 😔👎 thank you @sorryimananti-romantic for keeping a detailed hitlist for me ♡

hongjoong

pov: you're a royal princess rescued by him

“captain, are you sure we can’t toss her overboard?”

jongho and hongjoong watch as wooyoung’s face falls after you pointedly ignore his attempts to make conversation once again

for someone who is technically their guest aboard the arriba, it seems as though you are hellbent on being as difficult as you can be

“unfortunately, we can’t,” hongjoong grouches to the younger, “not unless we want to exchange our payment for a hefty bounty on our own heads”

when jongho sighs, the captain squeezes his shoulder in comfort and adds on, “trust me, i’ve thought about it too”

hongjoong and his crew are privateers - pirates in theory, but technically excused so long as they have their letter of marque to state that they are authorised to attack other vessels

rescuing a royal princess was never explicitly part of the contract, although he thinks that not rescuing you would have pretty much been equivalent to a blatant show of insubordination

you had been taken ransom by one of the merchant ships the arriba had been plundering

needless to say, they had been close to tossing you overboard too; your kingdom had never paid for your ransom

the lack of response from your parents wasn’t anything you weren’t expecting but it’s a sore spot nonetheless

so it’s certainly hard for you to play friendly when you’re quite literally shucked off from stranger to stranger faster than a hot potato

san tugs wooyoung closer towards him and gently says to you, “he’s just trying to be nice - we all are”

the movement doesn’t go unnoticed by you

“i don’t need your pity,” you answer, the only sentence you have spoken today

you’ve lived two decades of your life pretending you don’t see the pitying gazes of your maids and butlers

you certainly don’t need pity from these people - pirates no less

“it’s not-” wooyoung starts to say

but the captain steps in before he can defend himself

“if this is how you’re always acting, i’m starting to see why your kingdom never paid for your ransom”

had hongjoong been less preoccupied by your words, he would have realised that your tone is candid, as if it is only natural for the people around you to pity you

but he’s clouded with his mindset as captain, unable to stand by idly while his own crew put up with your attitude, and so the words come out anyway - shards of shrapnel that bury themselves into your heart

there is only a fleeting second when your eyes dilate with hurt

you conceal it immediately, replacing it with a steely gaze, yet the image has already seared itself into hongjoong’s mind

“maybe you should throw me overboard, then,” you counter, “i’m sure my family will thank you for it”

and even if you have completely neutralised your expression, no one misses the wounded tone of your voice before you disappear down into the lower deck

mingi lets out a low whistle after the resounding slam of the hatch closing

“you fucked up, captain”

hongjoong doesn’t need anyone to spell it out for him

the heavy feeling in his stomach is telling enough

it isn’t until the moon has long since risen that you emerge through the hatch again

you had bypassed the sleeping quarters to the hold, wedging yourself between barrels of grain until you were sure no one would find you

not that they would have tried to anyway - seonghwa had told them all to give you some space

you had run your finger up and down the sides of the barrels repetitively for hours on end, mind simultaneously void and filled with thoughts

the walls you had built around yourself kept you safe, but it had started to become awfully lonely after a while

when it had become a little too suffocating in the hold and you guessed that most of the crew was asleep, you had softly padded back up the stairs and across the main deck

you now sit on the foredeck where the endless expanse of the sea stretches out in front of you, closing your eyes and letting the swaying of the ship lull you into tranquillity

tonight, the moon winks down fondly upon the waters

hongjoong watches you from the quarterdeck

he’s seen you sit at the front of the ship on many nights when you should really have been asleep

he wonders if you’ve always looked so small and fragile with your knees drawn up to your chest, or whether it’s because the flash of hurt in your eyes and voice is still fresh in his mind

“go, captain,” yunho murmurs from where he’s at the helm, “it’s a quiet night”

hongjoong startles at having been caught gazing, clearing his throat and dragging his eyes away

“why should i, if she’s just going to ignore me?” he scoffs

but he knows he’s just being petty at this point and his chest churns in agreement

“maybe,” yunho hums softly in response. “did seonghwa ever give up on you, though?”

it’s rhetorical - hongjoong knows the answer better than anyone

the captain doesn’t say anything but after several beats of silence, he sighs and makes a move to the foredeck where you are

yunho smiles to himself

you and hongjoong may be more similar than his captain realises

your shoulders stiffen when the sound of hongjoong’s footsteps approaches

you’re not sure what to expect and you don’t exactly want to find out and risk getting hurt

but having spent all day swimming alone in your thoughts, you do want to show that you feel apologetic because admittedly, you were being an ass too

getting up to walk away when he’s taken the first step certainly won’t help your case

you hold your breath in awkward silence as he settles down beside you, leaving a respectable distance between your hunched figures

only now is hongjoong realising that he hasn’t actually thought about or decided on what he wants to say to you

but he can feel the confusion rolling off of you in waves, so he grits his teeth and says fuck it

“i won’t apologise for defending my crew, but i’m sorry for how i did it and for what i said”

he hopes you know he is sincere when he continues, “we all have our prickly edges. i can’t fault you for yours”

compassion is a foreign concept to you and so you’re a little stumped for words

hongjoong isn’t sure whether your silence is a good or bad thing, but you have yet to stand up and walk away from the conversation

“there’s only about a week left until we reach port and we’ll leave after you make it back to your kingdom and we receive our payment. i’m not asking for you to be friendly, but let’s at least be civil with each other until then,” he says

you want to nod, agree, anything

and yet you can’t seem to make your head move or the words to come out of your mouth

rome was not built in a day. but neither did its walls fall in a day

hongjoong doesn’t push for an answer when instead, you ask, “how many people have you actually tossed overboard before?”

he resists the urge to laugh at your question, suddenly endeared by the fact that you’re still bothered by his very empty threat

“none, but my offer still stands. you’re welcome to be my first,” he deadpans

you let out a snort and although you quickly turn your head away, hongjoong sees the hint of amusement in your eyes

no further words are exchanged between the two of you and you do not acknowledge him when he eventually stands to rejoin yunho at the helm

but it’s a start

and as with any relationship, be it friend, foe, or lover, there is always that

a beginning.

hongjoong isn’t really expecting much to change immediately so he doesn’t pay you much mind when you walk into the mess hall the following morning

you hesitate at the entrance when you see most of the crew are already present, the conversation you had with hongjoong last night replaying at the forefront of your mind

you chew on the inside of your mouth

wooyoung stops mid-conversation at the scrape of a plate on the table, looking up to find you sliding into the seat beside him with a tight-lipped smile

to your surprise, he greets you with enthusiasm and immediately drags you into the conversation

hongjoong watches as you slowly warm up and add one or two comments of your own in between bites of your hardtack

and when he catches your gaze after staring for too long, he gives you a smile to convey his appreciation; to acknowledge your efforts

you return it with a small smile of your own and unbeknownst to you, it stays on your face for the rest of the day

slowly, there become more and more reasons that elicit a smile out of you

you still sit out on the foredeck when everyone else has gone to sleep, but on most nights, hongjoong will join you even if just for a while

the two of you are content to sit side by side with nothing but the steady pulse of the ocean and intermittent creaks of the ship’s hull to break the silence of the night

tonight though, you find curiosity burning through you

“what’s it like?” you ask

“being a pirate?” he clarifies

you shrug vaguely, unsure yourself either, “being a pirate. being at sea. sailing with your crew”

he takes a moment to gather his thoughts - not because he doesn’t know what to say, but because there is too much he wants to say

when hongjoong answers, his voice rumbles softly from within his chest, tender and heartfelt

“there’s a sense of freedom that you can’t obtain when you’re bound to land and society. sailing the waters, the only limits are those of the open seas and of your own compass… the sunrises, the storms, the moonlight - it all becomes part of your home”

hongjoong leans back to rest on the palms of his hands, tilting his gaze up towards the twinkling sky

he reflects, “you experience brotherhood and gain a family that is worth multitudes more than the treasures you can accumulate, even if you were to live as a pirate for several lifetimes”

you’re enraptured by his words, like poetry that swirls off the pages of a book and drifts into your very soul

“i may be the captain of this crew, but they make me who i am. without them, i am nothing”

his words wash over you and unearth vivid memories

“that’s what the queen always says to me,” you reveal

a small smile starts to grace hongjoong’s face, but it falls just as quickly when he hears your next words

“that without her - without her title - i am nothing”

it’s funny, how the same phrase can hold such different meanings; can evoke such different emotions

you don’t elaborate any further, but hongjoong doesn’t think he needs you to in order for him to understand

he just wishes he had more time to show you that your mother is wrong

he can’t though

tomorrow they reach port and you will return to your rightful place in the palace

“tell me more about your crew,” you attempt to change the topic, “how did you all find each other?”

so hongjoong tells you

he talks for hours and hours and you listen all the while with a heavy heart, clinging onto his every word

on your final night, you two stay like that until the stars disappear and the horizon becomes streaked with the pale hues of sunrise

after the ship docks mere hours later, only hongjoong accompanies you to your kingdom after goodbyes are exchanged

wooyoung doesn’t take it well, and you find yourself holding back tears of your own as you are let through the palace doors with the captain by your side

but you blink them away when you approach the throne room because vulnerability is not an emotion you are willing to display

“y/n”

the queen addresses you curtly when you enter, and hongjoong wonders for a split second whether he has brought you back to the wrong kingdom

he knows your mother does not treat you fondly, but it’s still staggering to see it before his very own eyes

the monarch glances distastefully over him before her eyes flicker back to you

“i did not expect your return,” she states

your eyes remain impassive as you merely answer, “neither am i delighted to be back”

hongjoong recognises this look

he’s seen it when you first boarded his ship; he’s seen it when your hackles were raised

he’s seen it in himself, when he had been a teenager filled with nothing but growing resentment, before he had met seonghwa

your mother sneers, “then you should have made yourself useful and stayed with the pirates. as a whore or a dog, whatever it took.”

hongjoong has understood you since learning of your demons, but right now, he is you

he sees fifteen-year-old kim hongjoong, standing before a couple who are his parents only by title

he sees fifteen-year-old kim hongjoong, who doesn’t know what he has done that deems him undeserving of love

he sees fifteen-year-old kim hongjoong, all alone with no one to take his hand

“or really, you should have died on the ship”

hongjoong is close enough to you to hear the small hitch in your breath at your mother’s final jab

he may not have had someone to save his younger self, but he can do that now

he can be the person he so desperately needed years ago

and so he does just that.

hongjoong grabs your hand and drags you out of the palace

no one stops the two of you from leaving and he is unsure whether his heart hurts for you or sings with relief

you can only stutter in shock as you try to keep up, “hongjoong, what about your payment?”

his determined steps do not slow down, even as he looks back at you with a sure smile, “i told you before. some things are worth more than money”

the comforting squeeze of his hand conveys that you are worth more than any amount of money

the form of the arriba grows bigger in the distance and you think you can see the movement of excitement on deck when the crew spots your figures

hongjoong has slowed down his steps, but he has yet to let go of your hand

“and you deserve to know that. welcome to the crew, y/n”

to a family and love that you never had

you think you like the sound of that

“thank you, captain”

seonghwa

pov: you're a royal navy officer in disguise

you lay awake in your hammock, listening to the soft snores of the crew members around you

sleep doesn’t come easy to you anymore

particularly tonight

you contemplate whether it’s worth the risk to simply not show up

you know what the consequences are if they capture you - a slow and painful death - but you’re unsure whether you want to put ateez on the line too

your ship is currently docked for the night, having made a port stop at alcarres following one of the crew’s wishes to retire the pirate lifestyle and settle in the small town

their last night with ateez had been celebrated with sloshing rum and rowdy jigs, something you had found strange

there’s none of that in the royal navy

when one leaves, it is shameful and through one of three options only; old age, crippling injury, or…death

you had asked seonghwa, the quartermaster, why he and the captain were so accepting when crew members left as they wished

he had simply smiled and answered, “better a small but loyal crew than a large and unpredictable crew”

his words are like a sharp stone in your shoe as you finally slip out of your hammock and make your way off the ship

as ordered, you head to the tavern addressed

you salute the person in front of you and ease into your seat with a formality only when he disregards you

“admiral jang”

“you’re late,” the royal navy officer raises an eyebrow

“sorry, sir. i had to make sure everyone was asleep”

it’s not exactly the truth, but no one needs to know that you had spent an hour in your hammock questioning your morality

he ignores your excuse, jesting as he asks of your captain, “has the pirate king found the chart’s whereabouts yet?”

the charts

centuries ago, a crew of experienced sailors had travelled the six great seas and created the original navigational charts

the charts had become scattered and lost over time, but its value only increased exponentially as more and more sailors became victims to the sea trying to map its waters to the same detail and accuracy as the original charts

of the six originals, only the whereabouts of five are known, with most of them within the possession of the royal navy

it’s rumoured that hongjoong - the pirate king - has his hands on two of them and is currently tracking down the lost chart of the aurorian sea

the only sea that has yet to be chartered after its original map due to its dangerous and unpredictable sailing conditions

you know that your next words can hold an inexplicable amount of possibilities

“not yet. the last lead didn’t get him anywhere. turned out the last of the ahn clan had passed a decade ago”

his lips flatten at the lack of worthwhile information

“where’s the captain headed to next, then?” he probes

for a split second, the thought of lying crosses your mind

you can’t provide a different location - it would be much too obvious and would raise immediate suspicions

but you could give him a different time frame

after all, it’s not uncommon for navigational routes to be one to two weeks off should the waters be unpredictable enough

you find the truth spilling out of you anyway once you’re looking into his stone-cold eyes

“vlasgar. in about three weeks’ time”

for a moment, time stands still as your heart pounds and you attempt to slow your breathing, the officer staring back at you calculatingly

then he finally hums in satisfaction

you think that he is going to dismiss you, but as you make a move to leave, he leans back in his seat

the split second of hesitation was enough

“remember where your loyalty lies, y/n”

the air feels cold with the underlying threat

seonghwa’s words flit through your mind

better a small but loyal crew than a large and unpredictable crew

you swallow, “of course, admiral”

and then you’re dismissed with a nod

the unsettling feeling follows you all the way back to the ship and every miniscule creak of the floorboards underneath you seems to be amplified in the silence

you let out a short gasp of surprise when you’re about to climb back into your hammock, only to see seonghwa blinking blearily at you

“couldn’t sleep ‘gain?” he mumbles

you choke out a response, “yeah”

“i’ll make you tea b’fore you sleep ‘morrow,” his words slur with sleepiness

“okay,” you whisper

but you know it won’t make a difference

after all, there’s no remedy for guilt

it continues to fester the next day, as you linger outside the captain’s quarters

you can’t remember why you had come down to the lower deck, but it doesn’t matter now, not with seonghwa and the captain discussing what you think is related to the aurorian chart

“do you think he’s still in vlasgar?”

“min taesoo? it’s hard to say. but i’m sure he’ll have acquaintances still on the island who may have an idea of where he’s gone”

min taesoo

your brain tries to carefully file the name away, knowing that it’s what admiral jang would want to know, but at the same time, your heart tries to pretend it doesn’t know what you have heard so that you can forget about it

you find yourself scratching the name onto a scrap of paper anyway

unbeknownst to you, at the almost-imperceivable sound of your footsteps walking away, the two men behind the doors share a look

the crew sets sail again in the afternoon towards the next destination - vlasgar - and the scrap of paper in your pocket weighs you down so heavily that you feel off-kilter as you absentmindedly follow jongho up into the rigging to unfurl the sails

you’re near the top of the ropes when a sudden wave lurches the boat to starboard

it’s only a small push, really, but with your mind elsewhere, it catches you off guard and you miss your next step

the feeling of your hand dislodging from the sudden drag of your body weight brings you back to the present with a yell of surprise

(whether it’s your own or jongho’s, you can’t remember)

your sailing experience takes over and you try to swing your body back towards the safety of the rigging

you barely manage to grasp the ropes again but your hands slip down with your weight until they hit the next knot, the hot rush of friction threatening your grip

with adrenaline rushing through your body, you shakily climb back down, where there are several pairs of hands waiting to help you down the rest of the rigging

seonghwa’s hands do not leave you even after your feet are planted on the deck again

dread and shame heat the back of your neck and curl around onto your cheeks, knowing that a mistake like the one you had just made - accidental or not - would lead to a punishment like confinement in the lower deck back in the royal navy

except, when an apology starts to form on your lips, seonghwa bursts out in dismay

“y/n, your hands!”

you let out an unintelligible noise as seonghwa gently turns your palms over and you realise that the ropes have grazed some of the skin off

“it’s fine,” you want to say

but you’re silenced when he leads you to the small sick bay on the orlop deck

even if there is no surgeon on board, there is a small chest fastened to the wall that is home to their few and valuable medical supplies

you sit as he fusses over you with alcohol and strips of cloth

although he does a good job of wrapping your hands, your insides start to bleed with how intensely guilt eats away at you, like a maggot deep inside the core of a festering apple

that night as you shuffle towards your hammock to sleep, you flinch when you find seonghwa already sitting in his

he’s fighting the heaviness in his eyes as he carefully cradles something

upon seeing you, he wordlessly hands it to you with a sleepy smile before he finally sags into his own hammock with a content sigh

you look down and the warmth of it seems to burn through the padded dressing that the man before you has tenderly wrapped around your palms

the sensation travels upwards to burn your heart too

because in your hands is a cup of warm chamomile tea

and yet, despite the emptied cup, you find yourself unable to fall asleep

but in the darkness of the sky, with no witnesses other than the waves and sea foam themselves, a small piece of crumpled paper gets tossed overboard that night

the closer their ship approaches vlasgar, the more distant seonghwa notices you become

he worries

seonghwa thinks he worries for the reasons that he should be

he is the quartermaster; entrusted to protect the crew as the captain’s right-hand man

if that means ensuring no one will compromise the rest of his crew, even if it’s you, then so be it

that’s what he justifies to himself as he walks through the cobbled streets of vlasgar, slinking through the shadows as he follows your figure from a safe distance

(in reality, seonghwa worries for the reasons that he is not quite ready to admit yet)

he follows you into the dim bar of a tavern and carefully situates himself where he can watch over you without being discovered

he orders a mug of common ale as you approach someone

the man is dressed in civilian attire, but seonghwa can tell straight away from his demeanour and expression that he is not as ordinary as he appears

it’s confirmed when he hears you say, “admiral jang”

and then he sees it

the small but striking lapel pin on the breast of the man’s coat - the royal navy’s insignia

seonghwa feels for the sash that’s hidden underneath his own jacket and his fingertips meet the cool metal of the pistol tied inside

“you better have updates for me, y/n. what’s the pirate king’s purpose here in vlasgar?”

seonghwa knows he only has about five seconds to make a decision - one that could jeopardise the crew, or one that could jeopardise you

but you surprise yourself and the both of them when you answer steadfastly, “i don’t know, sir”

despite the din of drunker patrons in the tavern, it seems to fall deathly silent

“am i hearing wrong, officer?” the admiral questions with a disbelieving scoff

to your credit, your voice does not waver when you state again, “no, sir. i believe the captain and quartermaster are lying low. they have not revealed anything to me nor the rest of the crew”

seonghwa suddenly understands why you have distanced yourself

the admiral’s jaw tics

“is that so.”

you do not respond, only focusing on the spot between his raised eyebrows as he leans forward across the table

“where does your loyalty lie, y/n?”

neither the admiral nor seonghwa need to hear your answer to know the truth

a small crew may be outnumbered, but they have strength in loyalty and devotion

there’s a glint of movement from underneath the table as the admiral inches something out from his belt

seonghwa makes his decision

you flinch, eyes wide as there’s a deafening gunshot and the table beside you splinters and scatters the tankards of alcohol onto the floor

instantaneously, chaos erupts

there are drunken yells of fright and weapons clumsily brandished, tables upturned and chairs hurled across the room

it only takes one other misfired shot for the tavern to descend into hellfire as customers who were previously drinking together now turn on one another

nobody notices the two pirates dashing out, not even admiral jang, who is busy wrangling two inebriated men off his arms

your composure dissolves the moment you are dragged into an alleyway several streets away and you look up in shock to discover-

“seonghwa?! why are you here?”

“i could say the same about you,” he counters, hardly out of breath

you’re stunned by the fact that he seems completely unfazed by the mess that he has just dragged you out of

something clicks

“was that you? did you know all along?”

seonghwa smiles, “let’s just say you’re not as subtle as you think you are when you sneak around. plus, it’s uncommon for sailors to have the experience that you do without having had some sort of training”

you curse under your breath and wince, “does hongjoong know too?”

the quartermaster nods and you fear the answer to your next question

“then why has he not…why have you not…”

“killed you yet?” seonghwa chuckles. “i’m sure you’ve realised by now how skewed the royal navy’s beliefs are”

you’re quiet

the royal navy has always been cult-like in preaching the ruthlessness and barbarism of pirates, drilling into the officers the belief that pirates are the scum of the sea

but everything that you’ve known has been proven false since you’ve joined ateez; ironically, the pirates are more humane than the royal navy themself

their crew stand at attention whenever hongjoong or seonghwa walk onto the deck - not out of cultivated fear but genuine respect

when jongho is sore and tired from handling the riggings on a particularly rough and windy day, the others will offer to cover for his chores instead of flogging him into submission

and when mingi is divvying up the shares of the provisions and loot, the others will slip an extra bar of soap for seonghwa, the shiniest ring for mingi, or the largest bottle of rum for yunho, because they want to make each other happy

“hongjoong is the pirate king, yes, but a king should not take the lives of others for his own power. a true king uses his power to change the lives of others for the better…like yours…and like mine”

you frown with a jerk of your head

“what do you mean?”

you can’t see seonghwa as a broken man whatsoever

he gives you a weak smile, “i, too, used to be part of the royal navy”

your jaw drops

everything clicks into place - how he had figured out you weren’t just a common sailor and why he hadn’t confronted you about it

the shame and guilt come rushing back over you in a storm that is much too familiar by now

“i’m so sorry, all i’ve done is betray your trust-”

“but that’s what second chances are for, no?” seonghwa cuts you off, playfully flicking your forehead as he reminds you, “and i’m pretty sure you’ve chosen me over the royal navy”

your cheeks grow hot

“not you. the crew,” you mutter

he laughs and it’s a wonderful sound

“come on, it’s late,” seonghwa beckons. “let’s get some sleep”

when he sees that you’re still rooted to the spot, unsure whether you are deserving to go back, he decides for you and moves behind you to gently nudge you forward by the shoulders

you let him guide you

his hands are warm, you note, even through the linen of your shirt

his hands are also pretty, you observe, when he tries to fluff your hammock once you two have crept your way back to the berth

seonghwa helps you up into the hammock and you watch as he climbs into his

his hands are also teeming with love, you realise, when he wordlessly extends his arm nearest to you in a silent invitation

if you both reach out, you can just entwine your hands together from your respective hammocks

the burns on your palms have healed nicely and without the need for them to be wrapped, you can feel every expanse of his hand covering yours

he doesn’t retract his hand and neither do you, even though it’s not the most comfortable position and you both lose feeling of your arms soon after

but you lay in your hammock, drifting to the soft snores of the crew members around you and the soft tug of seonghwa’s fingers in yours

sleep comes easy to you

particularly tonight

as it will for the rest of your life

yunho

pov: you're the crew's navigator

you know it’s going to happen even before it actually does

you can feel it in the air and from the way the baby hairs around your hairline start to frizz

but you never say anything because you wouldn’t trade it for the moment when the first raindrop hits the back of yunho’s neck and he abandons his duty at the helm to drag you out onto the upper deck

(hongjoong only sighs in defeat before he stations himself at the helm instead)

you don’t like the rain

not like yunho does

you are already looking up from the map spread out in the captain’s quarters, a knowing smile on your face just from the sound of his bounding footsteps alerting you of his presence, when yunho appears with the beckon of rain

you pretend to let yourself be dragged to your feet along to his urges of come on!

but then you dash forward towards the hatch with yunho chasing after your bright laughter

in the short span of time that it has taken him to fetch you, the sprinkle of rain has steadily grown and the weathered planks of the deck are already a dark grey

you feel the coldness of the raindrops hitting the crown of your head and the spreading chill as your clothes start to become damp

but that’s not what makes you feel alive

yunho catches up to you easily and then he is snaking his arms around your waist to lift you up into the air

you barely have time to squeal and steady yourself on his broad shoulders before he is spinning the two of you around, the world blurring away as the spotlight shines on him and he is all that you can see

the deck is your stage and the sea is your audience

rain with yunho is twirling hugs, tiptoed kisses and tinkling laughter. it’s soaked shirts and rosy cheeks and the only thing that matters in the moment

you don’t like the rain, but it’s easy to like the rain when it’s with him

(hongjoong lets the two of you be - so obviously and hopelessly enamoured by each other - because when one sees people in love, one cannot help but watch and smile)

the rain eventually peters out and you and yunho must return to your respective duties, but not until you two have changed out of your drenched clothes and sneaked in a few more kisses

a few hours later, you hear the racket above the deck as a ship pulls up beside the arriba and ropes are thrown across from both sides to lash the vessels close together

hongjoong comes down to join you in his quarters, but he’s not alone

behind him is the captain of the silver light, dae jihoo, and his quartermaster, with seonghwa entering last

you note that this crew doesn’t have a navigator of their own

but you suppose that’s one of the reasons why their captain had implored an alliance for this particular raid

the crew of the silver light are wanting to target the prosperity triangle - an area between three large ports that is frequently trafficked by wealthy vessels transporting valuable goods

it’s a raid that would prove difficult for a smaller pirate crew like your own and the silver light, and especially if they have no navigator

but it’s not uncommon for pirates to form temporary alliances for such purposes, and together, your crews have a good chance of plundering a fortune

you nod your head in acknowledgement when hongjoong introduces you to the two pirates as ateez’s navigator

you don’t miss the way jihoo’s eyes seem to linger on you for a second too long before he flashes a crooked grin and gestures towards the navigational map spread out on the oak table

clearing your throat of discomfort, you step forward and flatten the creases out with your hands

“this is the most open spot within the triangle that the vessel we’re after will pass through,” you tap an annotated spot on the chart, “and this is where we are now”

you slide your finger across, “we’ll follow the rhumb line west to avoid the shallower waters and when we can catch the trade winds, it should be smooth sailing from there”

jihoo challenges you, “how can you be sure we’ll catch the ship within the triangle?”

“they’ll need to sail past the equator and i’m almost certain their ship will be slowed down by the doldrums. we can easily gain knots on them”

he squints at the scribbles you’ve made noting down what you’ve gathered of the wind patterns

you know for a fact that it will mean nothing to him, but whatever he sees must satisfy him because jihoo appears to make up his mind

“when do we set sail?” he directs his question to your captain

“three days from now”

he grunts a noise of affirmation and stands, which hongjoong takes as the cue to see them and the rest of their crew off your ship

you trail behind the group as you all head back to the upper deck

you prepare to emerge from the hatch with a playful wink, knowing that yunho will be craning his neck from the helm to get a glimpse of you, when a sudden holler surprises you out of your thoughts

it’s immediately met with the answering cries of several other pirates - none from your crew - and you hurry to clear the hatch to gain your bearings

you’re thrust right into the throes of battle as ateez are forced to unsheathe their cutlasses to defend against silver light’s sudden attack

having been caught off guard, basically none of your firearms are loaded with gunpowder, rendering them unusable

you will have to make do with the short sabre at your waist

there’s no time to account for the whereabouts and safety of your crew members and you just have to pray that you all make it out of this unscathed

especially yunho

but as ateez retaliate, you all notice something is off about the situation

your crew is very quickly overpowering the other pirates - it was a losing fight for them from the very beginning

it makes no sense to you nor the rest of your crew

the losses of breaking the alliance before the planned raid, much less through betrayal, far outweigh any gains they could possibly make from their choice of action

it makes absolutely no sense

until it does.

you are blocking the swing of a sabre with your own when you are tugged backwards harshly by the collar of your shirt

there’s an angry snarl in your throat as you prepare to turn around, but it’s quickly silenced by the warning shot of a pistol right beside your ear

the cold ring of metal is then pressed to the back of your head

you know that firearms require time to reload and there’s a chance that this pistol is now useless

but, like wooyoung has taught the rest of the crew to do, they may have pre-prepared several pistols and you are not willing to play with fire - especially when you are only the flex of a finger away from death

you vaguely hear someone yell out your name in panic, but you’re not quite sure you hear correctly over the clamour of cutlasses clashing, warcries resounding and your own heartbeat pounding

“stand down or your navigator dies,” the voice behind you thunders

it’s jihoo…and he wants a navigator for his crew

“ateez,” one of your men commands, “lower your weapons”

your crew may make decisions fairly, but in battle, only hongjoong has the power to make commands

yunho has never spoken against his captain or disobeyed orders

until now

the words do not come out of your captain’s mouth but yunho’s

the rest of the members hesitate - they will not stand down unless hongjoong commands them to, yet, they are unsure whether they will be able to follow should he demand them to fight on, even if it means endangering your life

but there is no guarantee jihoo will let your crew go unharmed even after you all surrender, and as the captain, hongjoong must make decisions in the best interest for the crew

“captain!” yunho yells desperately

yunho never yells

“stand down,” hongjoong commands

silver light’s captain steps in closer behind you until you can hear and feel the noise of intriguement that leaves his mouth down the back of your neck

“that your loverboy, hmm?”

he smirks

there’s a false moment of primal relief when the press of the pistol is removed from the back of your head, but it is immediately replaced with fear that is irrevocably worse as he aims it in yunho’s direction and shoots

“no!”

you shriek and pull against the tug of his hold, still fisted around your collar, your pupils blown wide with terror at the sight of the clean hole in the mast right beside yunho’s head

“it’ll be pretty boy’s head next if you don’t come with me,” jihoo coos into your ear

the fight slips out of you immediately

because if you can save him, a life for a life, then you will

even if the sight of mingi holding yunho back from lunging forward when the pistol’s barrel returns to your head makes your heart clench painfully

“y/n, don’t you dare,” yunho pleads, voice filled with anguish

you’re barely given enough time to lock eyes with him and say resolutely, “remember what you said to me,” before you are tugged away to the boarding plank

ateez can only watch helplessly as the planks are removed from over the bulwarks and the last of the ropes are untied, releasing the silver light from their ship for good

jihoo tugs you down the hatch as the ship starts to pull away, and just like that, you’re gone from their sights

“fuck!” yunho shouts furiously, unable to contain his emotions as he turns around and connects his fist with the mast

right where the musket ball had made a hole

his hand pulls away with bloodied knuckles from the splintered wood and the sheer force of his punch

a concerned whine leaves seonghwa’s mouth and he tries to approach the taller, but yunho shakes him off and looks determinedly at hongjoong

“we’re sailing to the banver isle just east of the triangle. we’ll ambush them there”

seonghwa looks between the two, hope flickering in his chest at the potential plan, “you think the silver light are stupid enough to try taking on the prosperity triangle alone?”

yunho chuckles darkly, “they were fucking shitbrained enough to take y/n, so yes”

nobody disagrees and hongjoong smirks dangerously

“ateez, ready the sails for banver isle,” he commands. “prepare for battle”

because not only have the silver light taken you away from ateez, but they have also annihilated the light from yunho’s eyes

gone are his warm brown orbs - they are now black holes thirsty for retribution

there will be lives to pay and even that will not be enough for the void

unaware of what your crew is capable of, jihoo looks down at you with a triumphant leer

“you’ll navigate us to the triangle in three days’ time. don’t even think about lying - you’ve already shown me where the location is”

with an even nod you reply, “of course”

it’s true though - you have absolutely no intention of navigating them somewhere else

because you know yunho will be waiting there for you

amidst chaste kisses exchanged between plush lips cold from the rain, yunho tells you in a brief moment of seriousness

“don’t show them where the real location is,” his breath is warm across your cheeks. “you know the coastal island roughly ten nautical miles away? show them that instead”

you tilt your head to look up at him, “you think they’ll betray us?”

“no,” he reassures you with a deeper, slower kiss, “but we can never be too safe”

and even if your vessels miss each other this time, you have complete faith that yunho will sail to the very ends of the world just to find you

two days before the originally-planned raid, the arriba sails as closely to banver isle as possible without risking running aground

yunho has navigated the ship around the back of the isle so that the form of the rocky terrain conceals them from sight

once the anchor is lowered, the crew members use every ticking moment to make preparations

swords are sharpened and firearms cleaned

mingi distributes the gunpowder and ammunition, which is pre-loaded into muskets, pistols and swivel cannons ready to be engaged

the ship’s sails and riggings are checked and yeosang keeps a keen lookout in the crow’s nest

and it’s as if the world itself can sense the brewing storm that grows inside yunho

the sea is eerily still and silent, but the sky is an omen to something impending, its rolling clouds dark and angry with the threat of rain leering over the waters

yunho doesn’t actually like the rain

he only likes it because it’s with you

rain with you is barefoot dancing, breathless confessions and bashful giggles. it’s drenched locks and fluttering eyelashes and the only thing that exists in the moment

but as the profile of the silver light finally approaches the isle two days later, the heavens split open and you are not by his side

rain without you is falling pinpricks, frigid winds and flaunting mockery and yunho despises it with his entire being

at yeosang’s call of, “vessel approaching from starboard,” up in the lookout, yunho smothers the fervid desire to barrage the other ship with cannonballs like hail from hell; to unleash an inferno that blazes through their hull as he sadistically watches the crew jump for their lives

he stamps out the hunger to shoot the ones that make it into the sea, not to kill, only to maim and induce a long, painful struggle in the open waters until death becomes inevitable - until there is enough blood spilt that it becomes the only stench in the air that stretches across for miles

yunho leashes his monsters with an iron fist

because he will not do anything that could even remotely endanger your life

even if it means that he has to hold back - to sit and wait like prey instead of advancing on the other ship like a predator

at least not yet.

silver light do not know, but this is the calm before the storm

the heavens may be crying, the winds may be howling and the waters may be roiling

but this is nothing compared to yunho

yunho is a tempest of unparalleled rage and their ship is in the eye of his storm

as the bowsprit of the silver light starts to appear around the isle, the members ready their grappling hooks and yunho draws his cutlass with a menacing whisper of unsheathing metal

you are his treasure, and pirates never lose sight of their treasure

today…you return to him

yeosang

pov: you're a tavern keeper

watching the ale reach the brim of the tankard you are holding, you’re about to step away from the barrel when the voice of a patron sounds behind you

“‘scuse me, could i get a mint-”

you look up and turn around in confusion as their voice cuts off

only to have the question taken right from the tip of your own tongue as you’re met with the face of the person you had loved for years

the same person you have spent twice as long trying to forget

eyes searching each other’s in a surprised stupor, seeing kang yeosang standing right in front of you takes you back to those memories that you have tried to remember and simultaneously bury

it thrusts you headfirst into what used to be of your shared love - like the feathery remnants of a dream, so distant from the fingers of your consciousness, suddenly returning to vivid existence when you least expect it

“hey, mint leaf. i’m back”

yeosang at least has the perceptiveness to appear a little apologetic, immediately pulling you into a hug and pressing soft kisses against your hairline uncaring of the other people in the tavern

it’s been several weeks since you last saw him, and whilst he had warned you he would be gone for longer this time, you hadn’t expected it to mean two whole months

he’s a small merchant who also fishes along the coast to earn enough to make ends meets, so he’s often gone for a few days or a week or two

you knew what you were in for when you first made it official with him, but just because you become accustomed to something, doesn’t mean it gets any easier

and he’s never been gone for this long

something must have happened - something good - because he looks alive, cheeks glowing and eyes fiery

“i met the crew”

“the crew?” you ask, hands reaching for the bourbon to prepare him a drink as he lets himself behind the counter to stand beside you in your workspace

he nods excitedly, "wooyoung’s pirate crew, ateez"

you think you know where this is going to go and you hate that your stomach sinks at the thought of what your future may become, because yeosang looks so happy to tell you about this and a happy yeosang is all that you could ask for

“the captain offered me a position as their lookout”

you pick out your next words carefully as you hand him his finished drink - a mint julep with two sugar cubes, just the way he likes it

"aren't…isn't being a pirate dangerous?"

“not as dangerous as you might think, actually. they’ve been showing me the ropes the last couple of weeks and…and i think i want to join them. officially”

there it is

the forked end of the road

you wonder how far two people can keep walking with their hands intertwined before the distance becomes too great and they have to let go

his words become a little muddled when he goes on to tell you about how they divvied up their recent loot to include his share too

how he’s gained more money than he’s made from the last two years of working as a merchant and fisherman combined

if he joins his old friend and his crew, he could earn enough to buy his parents a proper house; earn enough to build you your very own tavern

you want to tell him that you don’t need the tavern, just him, but you also know just how important his family is to him

his filial desire to take care of his parents was one of the very reasons you fell in love with him in the first place

before you can say anything though, the tavern keeper is interrupting to let you know that your shift is over

yeosang immediately perks up and herds you out of the place, claiming that there is a new fishing spot he discovered that he has to show you

and so you sit while he rows his modest boat, only the splash of his oars disturbing the peaceful stillness that has settled over the waters as the sun dips below the horizon

the waning light casts a soft, warm glow over him, like a gentle kiss against his skin and birthmark

if angels graced the earth, there would be one sitting right in front of you

“i missed you, mint leaf,” he confesses, gaze shyly averted. “i thought about you when i was gone”

“did you think about showing me this place?” you feel a little breathless

he nods, “every single night”

and that’s enough for you

it feels like everything is okay again

it doesn’t matter if you’re standing at a forked road

you think that perhaps, for him, you can walk on an unpaved path - just so that you can keep holding his hand

“y/n”

yeosang’s voice is deep

the word sounds foreign to your own ears but you don’t dwell on it

(because if you do, you’ll wonder whether it’s because you’ve forgotten the sound of his voice or because you want to hear him calling you something else)

“what would you like to order?” you ask

(because it’s easier to pretend that he’s just another patron than to admit that he used to be all that you ever knew)

yeosang fumbles a little but then regains himself, “oh, um- just a mint julep, please”

you turn your back to him to prepare his drink, hands reaching for the barrels lined along the bottom shelves without needing to look

you’ve made this drink too many times to count

half of those times were in the safety of the darkness that midnight offered; when the tears could flow freely without anyone seeing

it’s only when you start to mix his cocktail that yeosang realises he didn’t ask for his sugar cubes, but he figures the drink will taste bitter tonight either way so he opts to watch you instead

he wishes that he could walk past the counter like he used to and wrap his arms around you

he wishes that he could whisper endearments into your ears and press them against your lips

he wishes that he could show you that he still loves you

“do you still love me?” your voice wavers with hurt as you stand in front of him

he’s finally back after being gone for four months this time and you hate this conversation as much as he does, but it was bound to happen eventually

yeosang pleads, “more than anything”

“then why does it hurt so much? loving you…and being loved by you”

he doesn’t have an answer

but god be damned if he doesn’t try to find a way to fix things

“tell me, mint leaf, what can i do?”

you blink back your tears furiously, having already made up your mind while he was still at sea

“let’s break up”

because in the end, unpaved paths have too many rocks, too many thorns and too many arched roots; they were never meant to be walked along

you pass yeosang his finished drink without another word and then move further down the counter to serve a different customer

his eyes linger on you wistfully before he tears them away from you

it’s a good thing his hair has grown long enough to cover his face when he looks down

because his eyes start to grow wet at the sight of the mint julep you have made him

with two sugar cubes in it, just the way he likes it

perhaps, once you’ve loved somebody, you never really stop loving them

yeosang shows up again the next day and seats himself at the bar

you don’t serve him though, actively avoiding his end of the counter and letting another of your staff tend to him

he orders his usual but he leaves out his request for additional sugar cubes

it feels wrong for him to order it from someone that isn’t you

but you’re watching out of the corner of your eye as the worker mixes the bourbon, sugar and water, topping it with a few mint leaves and then sliding it across the counter for him

you let out a little sigh, half amused, when he takes a small sip and smacks his lips together at the bitterness

you take two sugar cubes and drop it unceremoniously into his pewter cup before you realise what you’re doing

yeosang immediately seizes the opportunity to talk to you

“my crew’s docked for the fortnight…” he waits to see if you’ll respond. you don’t, but you also don’t move away, so he continues. “we’re making some repairs to the hull and sails before our next raid”

you have half a mind to walk away after you reply, “i didn’t ask”

he forges on regardless

“we’re going to work with another crew for this one. it’s going to increase our chances of a successful raid because-”

your voice comes out a little harsher than you mean for it to when you hiss again, “i didn’t ask”

yeosang’s mouth closes as he pulls away slightly, back straightening

then he says in a softer voice, “i’ve been doing well. wooyoung still takes care of me, even though i’m not new to the crew anymore. i also saw my parents today and they’re happily retired now…”

you don’t stop him from talking this time

because how many sleepless nights have you spent sitting outside your tavern looking up at the stars; how many times have you served a mint julep to a patron and accidentally added sugar cubes; how many moments have you been consumed by the thought of him, simply wondering if he is living well?

this is everything that you have ever wanted - yeosang in the flesh letting you know that, yes, he has been well

but it is also everything that you have ever feared - that he has been well even without you

you don’t know what to feel

“my parents asked about you,” he says gingerly. “how have you been?”

his voice is barely audible, as if he is afraid of what you might say

or perhaps, afraid that you might not say anything at all

“good. excellent,” you force a small smile, your eyes still focused on the mint leaves floating in his drink. you don’t think you can look at him. “i own this place now”

his body loses its tension, cheeks rounding as he looks at you with genuine relief

“that’s…that’s really good to hear”

his words sting

you are unsure if it stings your ego or if it picks at the wound in the shape of the person you have lost

but it hurts to know that he has worried over you in the exact same way you have over him, the whole time you two have been apart

you’re suddenly overwhelmed by the realisation and hot tears well in your eyes almost immediately

your bottom lip starts to crumple so you rush into the back room to escape

“y/n!” yeosang calls out after you, alarmed

when you don’t stop, disappearing into the storage, he jolts up from his seat and follows

your body shudders with every heaving breath you take, unable to stop yourself from crying even harder when you feel him tug you into his chest

you try to pull away but his sturdy arms tighten around you

yeosang refuses to let you go once more

“i hate you,” you sob, struggling against his hold as you hit his chest weakly

he hushes comforts against the crown of your head, soothing noises as he endures your fists

“you have every reason to”

yeosang holds back tears of his own

he feels your body gradually losing its fight, sinking into his embrace instead, hands desperately holding him close

your voice is so impossibly small when you tearfully confess, “but i still love you”

“oh, mint leaf,” he brushes the stray locks of hair away from your face and cradles your jaw tenderly, “i still love you, too”

he presses a soft kiss against your forehead, pulling away once only to reaffirm, “so, so much”

when he kisses you again, his lips taste salty against your own, but nothing has ever tasted sweeter than this

your breath no longer stutters but the tears continue to run down your face because your heart finally feels right after all these years apart

and yet-

you pull away

“we can’t do this”

yeosang feels his heart shattering

“why not? i don’t understand,” he whimpers

“you know why,” you say distressingly, “my life is here, yeosang. i can’t just leave and return whenever i want. but you, on the other hand? you can. you go where your crew goes - you belong with them”

“but my heart belongs to you. please, y/n,” he begs

his arms are still wrapped around you and you feel his desperation as his fingers cling onto you like a lifeline

you look earnestly into his bloodshot eyes, your own vision blurry, “yeo, you’re not the one who gets left behind here. you’re not the one who waits weeks, months, years on end, just hoping that the next person to walk in is the person that you want to see”

he wants to plead that he waits to see you, too, but he knows that he’s the one who leaves, too

“you’re the right one for me - the only one for me - but it’s not the right time,” you tell him gently

slowly, his arms lower themselves from around you

“it wasn’t the right time then and it isn’t the right time now,” he repeats, “then when is the right time for us?”

you shoot the question right back at him, “when is the right time for someone whose life is to sail the world?”

neither of you know the answer

nobody does, because loving a pirate has no certainties

but yeosang doesn’t give up

“if we can’t ever be sure, why don’t we just make it the right time ourselves?”

you caress his cheek sweetly, and despite having stepped away from you earlier, he leans into your hand, starved of your loving touch and affection

“yeosang…what if we’ve already had it? what if…meeting each other was already it? what if we’re just meant to love from a distance, not side by side?” your voice is poignant but resolute

he brings up a hand to cover yours, still warm and tender against his wet cheek

how is it that he can be touching you yet simultaneously feel worlds apart from you

“okay,” he accepts with a whisper

if loving you silently is the only way he gets to love you, then he will choose it in a heartbeat over losing you entirely

he thumbs away the remainder of your tears

“can i kiss you? one last time?” he asks

you nod

“one last time”

your lips slowly meet, slotting together as they find their home in each other’s dips and curves

his hands cradle the small of your back and neck and your own hands rest against his chest

the kiss you share is steady, longing and bittersweet

it conveys everything that you want to say to each other, and even then, it is hardly enough

thank you

i’m sorry

i love you

goodbye…

you can feel your eyes burning up again, but you focus on the feeling of yeosang’s lips against yours instead

because you know that the moment one of you pulls away, that is it forever

in the world of love, there are people who are ill-fated

they meet the right person, but at the wrong time

and then there are people like you and yeosang

not ill-fated, but star-crossed lovers

the right person…

but just not meant to be

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pikp0kcas3 · 11 months ago

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The Hazbin Hotel fandom’s issue with accepting aromanticism and asexuality

Now that it is officially Aromantic Spectrum Awareness Week, I want to talk about this!

I find that, as an aroace myself, I am constantly grasping at good representation and coming up empty— it usually ends up in one of two ways.

One: the character is portrayed as emotionless, cold, and robotic in nature. It’s the question aromantic and/or asexual people are often asked: “Are you heartless?” The answer is no, of course, but general media makes it out to be the opposite.

Or two: Their lack of attraction is seen as something to “fix” because they “haven’t found the right one yet”, and they end up with a partner as a “happy ending”.

It frustrates me greatly because of how little people actually see aromanticism or asexuality as a true part of the LGBTQIA+ community.

So when I watched Hazbin Hotel, and I found out about Alastor being aroace, I was over the moon. I was on cloud nine. I also saw how his voice actor has looked up the term as an attempt to learn about aroaces, which makes me OVERJOYED?? Amir is truly a blessing, and I love that he’s proud to embody a character that’s part of our community. It’s so beautiful to finally have a proper character, a fan favorite at that, who just so happens to be aroace— and that’s another thing I love about this.

It’s never explicitly stated in the show (though it is stated in interviews), but it’s rather clear when you’re watching, isn’t it? Alastor’s aversion to any sort of sexual advancement, coupled with Rosie’s blatant “I know you’re an ace in the hole” comment sort of spell out his asexuality pretty clearly, as well as what side of the spectrum he falls upon. In addition, his Valentine’s day card was strictly platonic, which caters to his aromantic side. It feels so validating to finally be represented, to finally have a character in media who shares the same lack of interest in romance and sex as I do.

When I entered the fandom to look for more content, I kind of expected to see the same respect for Alastor’s orientation there too. But that… wasn’t the case? I am fully aware that aromanticism and asexuality are both spectrums— of course, aromantic and/or asexual people can enter those kinds of relationships. I’m not denying that and they belong in the community as much as anyone else on the spectrum.

But, the more I see the same line again and again and again, the more it feels like an excuse to just ship what you want.

Usually I don’t mind shipping? I’m often a firm believer in people shipping what they like as long as it’s harmless and they don’t go crazy over it. I also know for a fact that Viv doesn’t have a problem with people shipping her characters. They are fictional, after all.

But in this case, people are ignoring the very thing that makes Alastor a part of the aroace community! People are ignoring his lack of romantic or sexual attraction!

Is this not the same as changing a gay character’s orientation to suit a straight ship? If not, how so? I’m told that we are a part of this community, so why aren’t we being treated like it? Why is it so hard to accept the people on the end of the spectrum who aren’t interested?

Something I’ve been noticing throughout my life is that society has not exactly progressed very much on the idea of accepting asexual or aromantic identities. Maybe we have, a little, since the old days— but hell, people in “the old days”, which in truth wasn’t very long ago, believed that asexuality was a medical condition to be “fixed” by taking the right medication or having sex. That’s a pretty low bar to clear. And on the romance side, you’re seen as a “late bloomer” or “boring” if you don’t express interest. These days, being friends with someone is treated like a gateway to them possibly becoming a lover. Not getting married, not going on dates, not wanting a partner— it’s all treated like a crime when it’s not.

Maybe I’m selfish, or sensitive, or I’m butthurt over nothing, or I’m making it all about me. Maybe I’m gatekeeping or whatever the term is. But please, please, please, I just want an aroace character like me who simply is not interested in sex or romance.

And I want fandom to respect that. I admire the creations that fans make— the art, the animatics, the writing and the character analysis. And I want people to keep creating because creation is indeed a beautiful thing.

But I really would like people to treat aroace identities like they’re important. Like it’s more than just a spectrum to get wiggle room to wrangle in another ship.

#aromantism #aromantic #aroace #asexual #hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin alastor #lgbtqia #alastor aroace #PLEASE i just want people to LEAVE HIM ALONE #“but it’s a spectrum�� STOP USING IT AS AN EXCUSE #RESPECT AROACE PEOPLE WITH ZERO INTEREST IN ROMACE AND SEX #let us have this #we barely get anything as it is #but just to clarify i don’t believe that most people are being intentionally rude about it #nor am i discouraging people from creating fan content because it is FAN CONTENT and you can express yourself #i just would like people to understand a little more that #yes it is a spectrum and it covers an extremely wide range of orientations #yes ANYONE who identities as someone on the spectrum is completely valid #if you wanna argue with that i am showing you the door and kicking your sorry aphobic ass out #my point is that the spectrum is not a loophole. it is not an excuse and it is NOT okay to just use it willy nilly for your convenience

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prying-pandora666 · 4 months ago

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ATLA Fandom and its Rejection of ATLA’s Messages

Can we talk about something for a moment?

The ATLA fandom loves to go on and on about all the ways the characters are “toxic” and who “deserves” redemption, in ways that are completely at-odds not only the messages and themes of the show but also in ways that are simply incompatible with being imperfect humans.

More than that though, there’s a complete failure or unwillingness to engage with philosophies unfamiliar to them. No effort to try and broaden their understanding. No, it’s all about pearl clutching.

Look at this:

Pretty funny little meme. Was posted on Reddit. Not that far-off from what actually happened in the episode.

Now let’s look at a couple of the comments.

The first commenter outright claims that a remorseless person doesn’t deserve forgiveness. No elaboration. No reasons given for why they disagree with Aang in this moment. It’s just stated as fact and several people uncritically agree. It is assumed that Aang’s thinking is wrong and everyone should agree.

You can see my comment countering this blanket statement, and bless the commenter below me for tying this back in to what Aang said. Understood the assignment! Succinct and to the point.

But then look at this:

The thing that really gets me about this is not only that they ignore the entire message of the very episode being shown here, but that they wholly condemn Aang’s (and his people’s) way of thinking as cowardice or a failing driven by fear. It frames Aang counseling Katara to not murder a man for vengeance as him somehow wanting Katara to stay afraid??? What???

Is it any wonder so many people twist and misrepresent this episode and its lesson?

No wonder then that so much of the fandom—and indeed even NATLA—is full of apologists for the Fire Nation despite their horrendous actions. The irony being that the one Fire Nation character the fandom widely condemns and refuses to extend empathy towards is the same one who expresses the very same sentiment contrary to Aang’s beliefs!

Remember what little Azula said about Iroh surrendering at Ba Sing Se?

The Fire Nation are the ones who believe in vengeance and violence. This is why Zuko thought killing Yon Rha was what she needed. It’s what he’s been taught. It’s what he and his sister were raised to believe. But the show is explicit about the fact that this is wrong. Iroh ends up living in Ba Sing Se peacefully! No revenge necessary!

The Air Nomads, meanwhile, teach forgiveness as a way to cultivate peace within yourself. Of course Aang reflects this teaching. And although Katara isn’t able to fully forgive Yon Rha (nor does Aang feel she has to), she is able to let go of her anger and find closure. She spares Yon Rha. She turns the other cheek. She moves on. Aang is explicitly shown to be right.

You don’t have to agree with all the messages of the show, but can we at least try to engage with them?

#Atla #avatar #avatar the last airbender #the southern raiders #zuko alone #aang #katara #zuko #azula #iroh

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bibuckaroo · 2 months ago

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i need to talk about this because this is very important to me:

yes, khun is down bad for bam and we KNOW that, but we need to start appreciating the fact that bam is down bad for him too and he’s just as embarrassing about it, like, this is not one sided, guys. the only difference is that bam always has a lot of shit going on, while khun always only deals with bam related problems.

but examples of bam being down bad:

• always singles khun out in a group, he’s the first person he sees and unless someone else interacts with him, he continues to only focus on khun, to the point that endorsi herself talks about this more than once, because she’s jealous that bam isn’t paying attention to her.

• while bam doesn’t like seeing any of his friends hurt, he usually doesn’t stop them from joining fights if they insist on it, he’ll just do his best to protect them. but here’s the thing: if he can help it, he doesn’t even let khun join a fight in a physical way and when khun looks like he’s going to leave his post in his lighthouse, bam explicitly tells him not to do that because it’s too dangerous, because to him khun belongs in the safety of his lighthouses, strategizing and protecting their friends.

• at the end of the day, the person bam is going to open to will always be khun. this is explicitly made aware when he bids both endorsi and yuri good night (two people who are his close friends and he’s known for years, and could’ve open up to at anytime) because they said they were going to rest, but when khun tried to do the same, he stopped him and asked if he could speak to him about the master key. very important!!! bam also wants to be the person khun opens up to, but every time he manages to ask him something personal, they get interrupted (looking at you, endorsi).

• bam actually stated it himself that khun ‘is his most precious friend’ when talking about why he was protecting ran, in terms of him being khun’s brother. enough said about it, khun is already on a whole other level to anybody else, and how insane it is that he’s willing to lay down his life for ran because he knows it would upset khun if anything happened to him?

• RACHEL HERSELF POINTED OUT THAT KHUN IS BAM’S PRIORITY!!! when she asked bam why he was giving her a fair chance in terms of getting the thorn fragment, literally her first assumption was because she had saved khun’s life.

• i also feel that is important to point out that while bam may not want khun in the direct line of danger, there is no one he trusts more than khun, because he knows that at the end of the day he can take care of himself, he just wishes he wasn’t put into a position where he had to. like in the sweetfish situation, he had a choice of where to go and he chose to go to hoaquin because he knew khun was with the sweetfish and he trusted khun to have a plan, even though he was worried.

• lastly, i need to mention this because i have never seen nobody talk about that: bam tries to hold on to the image of himself from the test floor in his interactions with khun a lot. after his time as jue viole grace, every time we see him interacting with other characters we see him serious and determined but rarely smiling, even with his old friends, but with khun i noticed a lot of instances that he does the closed eyed smile to reassure that everything was fine and while a part of me wants to believe that the only reason this happens is because khun just brings out this side of him, i also believe that is because (at least in a subconscious level) he believes that is the version of himself khun grew to care for (since we know bam segregates his personality, since his sworn enemy is the version of himself that is jue viole grace) and if he’s not that version anymore, will khun still care for him? (welp, this just got really angsty).

to end all of this: basically, i feel like we talk a lot about khun and his obsession with bam (affectionate) but we don’t talk enough about bam’s with him because his moments are always more subtle and usually get lost in everything else that’s happening on bam’s life.

and i noticed that we, in the khunbam fandom, tend to be able to read khun better (he truly is easier to read) than bam, but now this post makes me want to do a character study on bam.

#lari reads tog #tower of god #tog #khunbam #the 25th bam #jue viole grace #khun aguero agnis #if you made it this far #congratulations!!#also i’m so sorry!!#i got carried away with my rant #but can you tell this subject is important to me??#like i cannot stress this enough!!#KHUNBAM IS NOT ONE SIDED YOU GUYS!!#they just express their love in different ways #but it’s soulmatism all the way with them

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cheshirebitch · 11 months ago

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Alastor x Reader

𝔸𝕞 𝕀 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕝𝕖 𝕤𝕖𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕥? pt 2

( part 1 here ) ( part 3 here )

Husk was the first to notice me, since we both thought I was going to die.

“Oh (Y/n) you son of a bitch!” Angel grabbed me tightly into a hug, squeezing the air out of my lungs. Charlie ran up with Vaggie tailing her.

“How did you do it?” Vaggie and Charlie asked at the same time. Husk looked over and barked out, “How did she do what? Because she saved him and she also somehow saved herself from Boss Man’s wrath.” He took a swig of his drink, eyeing me suspiciously. I knew he was going to pamper me with a million questions later.

“Well, I just offered Vox information that sounded valuable in a state of dire quick thinking. Sure, he can be smart, but not on the spot. It was simply a trick play of environment and temptation.” After all, isn’t that what I’m good at?

“What was the info you gave?” Curiosity got the best of Angel. I smiled before pressing a finger to my lips.

“Can’t spill. Even if I wanted to.” A red magic spread across my face where it looked like my mouth was sewed shut. Angel recognized it from when he saw my chains appear before.

“Oh doll…” Pity. A look of pity is all I received and it made my chest tighten. My eyes scanned quickly over everyone. Everyone had the look of pity. I wiped the magic off before laughing dryly. “I have my ways around it obviously.” I waved them off. I don’t need their pity. I chose this. I just regret it lately. Alastor wasn’t always this closed off, at least not to me. We used to share almost everything. It was us against the world until he left me alone in it, twice.

“So, I take it we pissed off the Vee’s?” Vaggie stated as she looked at me and Charlie. She was holding up her phone that had Velvette’s recent social media post explicitly saying that Hell was about to freeze over.

“Well, it did give us the chance to actually redeem Angel Dust.”

“Everything comes with a price though, Charlie.” I alluded to what was to come. The battles I can see happening here in the future are enough to worry me on what’s to come. The future is so unsettled on what can happen right now that I can only see small things and not the big picture. I felt a tightness in my chest again.

“Stand straight darling.” Alastor smoothly spoke behind me as he pushed his hand against the small of my back and drifted up to make my spine straighten. I hate how he only gets on my case about that when Husk literally has a hunch back at this point. Deep breaths (Y/n). Deep breaths.

“Thanks sir.” I said through gritted teeth. Alastor flinched slightly at how I called him sir and how tightly I said it. He looked at me as if asking with his eyes, What is your problem? I couldn’t help but shift my jaw tighter. I squinted my eyes, You’re the problem dick. He clenched his jaw as well and pressed his hand harder into the small of my back, any harder and he would be pushing me. Somehow though, I noticed how his presence made the tightness in my chest go away. Despite the fact we were arguing through our eyes. Charlie turned towards Alastor, dragging our conversation to a quick halt.

“What should we do in preparation?” She was mostly looking at me and not Alastor which made my once annoyed face into a smug one. They are looking towards me for leadership now. I warned you Al, don’t play with fire. After all, you are the reason I’m down in this mess anyway.

“We need to cover all our bases and make it seem like we aren’t even worried about whatever they are doing, and continue business as normal. Alastor and I will cover the rest. Just watch each other and don’t leave without a partner for a little while.” He seemed to relish in the fact I still sounded like I needed him. I can’t help but feel like he loves that feeling, even if he left me and still won’t tell me anything anymore.

After spilling plans with Charlie and the team on what our next moves should be, I dismissed myself towards a separate room. I know he can feel the slight anger during our whole interaction because he swiftly follows me.

“Yes, Alastor?” He smiled wider with his stupid half lidded eyes. But my god do I always melt- stop it. You’re mad, remember? How could he keep playing with your feelings? It's like these seven years took everything we built between each other and ripped it to shreds as if we were never anything. Were we though?

“Inner battles dear?” I wish he would let that cheesy smile slip once or at least make it look sincere again.

“You tell me. You’re the one who kicked me out of my own room.” He hummed playfully as I scrunched my face in anger.

“Well, since you’re my pet, it’s also my room.” That cocky motherf-

“We need to talk, Alastor. I want to begin the negotiation of my contract coming up soon.” A slip, his eyes screamed worry but then it was gone. Bingo.

“Renewing it again? We both know you will.” My smile matched his which unnerved him slightly.

“Remind me why again. If I remember correctly, you abandoned me for seven years, won’t talk to me anymore, and have been acting weird lately. You aren’t the Alastor I signed my soul away to.” I seethed. He was holding his jaw so tight I thought he was about to crack his teeth. I leaned closer, almost on my tippy toes to get in his face, his head looked down at me. I saw a glimpse of those eyes he used to give me. The eyes he would stare at me with while I listened to him talk for hours. Then they were replaced with a slight hurt. He opened his mouth, his smile quivering as he thought of the right words.

“There you are! Nifty got stuck in the toilet again, can you help us get her out?” Charlie spoke loudly. Everything I was about to get, all the answers, just…

…gone.

The feeling of overwhelming… EVERYTHING. I wanted to yell at Charlie.

Why can’t you just wait? Fuck Charlie, you just ruined everything.

Alastor quickly fixed all the vulnerabilities he had and proclaimed, “Well of course! What type of help would I be around here if I didn’t?” I watched him walk away with Charlie, a hurt look that he caught when he glanced back.

His smile faltered quick enough for me to see it. His eyes glanced at Charlie as if trying to tell me something before he fixed his behavior and carried on as normal with her when she looked back at him. They swiftly walked out as I was left in the entertainment room.

Alastor, what did you do?

Husk was at the bar cleaning glasses from Angel and Cherri Bomb’s celebration. Swirling around my drink, wishing I didn’t drink as much as I did. I will hand it to Angel and Cherri for having such a persuasive way with drinking. My hair was slightly messy, my normal pantsuit switched out to my comfy clothes, and my eyes looked tired.

“You finally going to admit you had too much yet?” Husk chuckled out. I chuckled back before I sipped the rest of my drink down quickly. The glass hitting the counter answered Husk instead, and the sound of it sliding down to him as I smiled at him.

“Nope.” I taunted back. He shook his head, pouring more into my cup, and gently sat in front of me. I stared at it for a little while before Husk sighed and piped up, “Penny for your thoughts?” He knew I loved it when he said the sayings I normally do. Made me feel like we really are real friends, despite the situation we are both in.

“Well, I think I have a theory on what has Alastor… different.” I was careful with my choice of words as Husk eyed me. He knew I was never going to let this new Alastor last long. I mean Husk even was starting to get treated more like a dog rather than someone who helps Alastor with a slight rough friendship. Hard to believe we were all friends once.

“Continue?” Husk poured himself a matching drink as he watched me intensely. This isn’t something I would bring out loud unless I had some sort of evidence pointing towards it. I shuffled my hands around before stealing a quick sip of my drink.

“I think Alastor made a deal he regrets but can’t talk about.”

(Part 3...?)

(Lore buildingggg I promise next update will have one question answered. Can you guess which one? As always all characters and world belongs to the respected owners <3 story belongs to me. Tagged who I could! Thank you for loving the first one!)

(Should I add the songs that inspire the writing?)

TAG LIST: @immortal-ries @kat-nee @shybananabagellover @tiedyedghoulette @alyslovesflowers @seven709 @vixie--21 @montis-posts @trashbin-nie @sh3sa1dwhat @for-hearthand-home @funtimefreddynaofficial @jyoongim @eviebuggg

#hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor #radio demon #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction

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prettypixels22 · 1 year ago

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Headcanons for spending Christmas with call of duty characters

(feat. simon "ghost" riley, john "soap" mactavish, kyle "gaz" garrick, john price,

kate laswell, farah karim, alex keller, phillip graves)

a/n: for context, in each section you’re referenced to have kids with each character and, although not explicitly stated, the reader is implied to be a homebody but these headcanons are kept gender neutral. if you continue to read, i hope you enjoy.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Christmas is the best time for him to show how much he appreciates you and the kids

He’s not a bad parent, he’s always been very good with the kids

He provides for you all and takes care of them the best he can but he knows he can be emotionally distant at times

He can handle most situations involving his kids but when they get upset or argue with each other, he struggles and has to rely on you to help them

It’s not that he doesn’t want to emotionally connect with them, he just isn’t sure how and he’s not used to talking about his feelings

So gift giving is a good way for him to express that he does care and love you all

He likes both receiving and gifting things that are homemade or sentimental, he enjoys those kinds of gifts because they are specific to your little family and that makes it so special to him

Skulls become like a trademark to your family and tiny skull symbols are hidden in most gifts, wether it be a carving on a wooden item, an engraving on a piece of jewelry, an embroidery on fabric or even woven into those little bracelets kids like to make

Speaking of skulls, your kids definitely have skull designed sky masks that they used to stay warm when they play in the snow

The kids sit on the same sled and have Ghost pull them around, it’s so heart warming seeing your partner and children play while wearing the same masks like they’re a little family of ghosts

When your children go to bed, you talk to Simon about something they’ve been telling you recently, “The kids want a dog.”

You bring it up during one of those intimate times when he’s not wearing his mask and you feel like you can read his mind

Instead of the blank stare you usually see when all of his features, save for his eyes, are covered, you can see the slight changes in his expression

His eyebrows twitch and his jaw clenches, you can’t tell he doesn’t think it’s a good idea

“We can name him Riley,” you joke, “He can be our guard dog and protect us when you’re not around.”

Although you weren’t being serious, he actually started warming up to the idea

It wouldn’t be a puppy though, he’d take you to look at retired military dogs

There was one you two took a particular liking to, a german shepherd, he was a nice dog and in need of a good home but he also had the proper training to be able to protect you and the kids if need be

The kids loved him, of course, and he was very gentle with them, wagging his tail while they hugged and pet him

You ended up falling asleep to a Christmas movie, your family cuddled up together on the couch with your new dog

John “Soap” MacTavish

Johnny loves Christmas and eagerly waits for it to come around every year

There’s always a mountain of gifts around the Christmas tree

Half of the presents he bought, he purchased all the way back in January

He just gets so giddy seeing you and the kids enjoy his gifts that he immediately wants buy more after Christmas is over

Then when it finally gets close to December, you two have your kids’ Christmas lists to deal with

You two have to start wrapping them, at least, a week in advance because there’s no way you’re getting them all done in one night

Especially when you have to wait for the kids, who are pumped full of sugar from eating too many Christmas cookies, to go to sleep

So they get double the gifts and on top of that they get even more when you visit the MacTavish family (which is huge by the way)

Speaking of, when you do visit his family, you get to sit inside by the fireplace and drink hot cocoa with his parents and sisters and watch from the window while Soap takes your kids outside to play with their cousins and uncles in the snow

You get a front row seat to the comical scene of Johnny being hit with a snowball and dramatically collapsing to the grown, a swarm of children climbing over him and playfully attacking

He will play outside with his kids for hours, having snowball fights, building snowmen, sledding

He’d love to take them snowboarding one day, if only the military would grant him enough leave time to take them to a ski resort

While your kids play with their nieces and nephews, Soap will definitely try to sneak you away for some “alone time”

If you object to this and tell him him that you two need to go back and watch your kids, he’ll pull you into an empty room, large hands cradling your face as he tries to bargain with you, “Just lemme give you a quick kiss, bonnie. Hmm?”

But it’s never just a “quick kiss” and you don’t know how you keep falling for that

He’s so sweet when he’s affectionate, he’ll slow dance with you by the fireplace or run you a nice relaxing bath with rose petals, it’s a romantic and intimate way of showing you how much he loves you

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Since joining task force 141, he’s had to spend more time away from you and the kids then he’s used to

He misses you all a lot when he’s away but it makes each Christmas that much more special because he has to cherish every second he spends with you and your children

You two usually plan for Christmas together but since he’s been away you do most of the planning and he helps as much as he can when he finally returns home

If you’re cooking something and he knows what ingredient you’ll need next, he’ll grab it for you and set it on the counter before you even have the chance to ask

He also keeps the kids distracted so you can focus on dinner by building gingerbread houses with them, which were a lot harder than he was anticipating and by the time they got the house to stand, there were globs of frosting everywhere with gumdrops and mints scattered across the kitchen table

He cleans it all up though along with any mess you might’ve made while cooking dinner, he cleans the dishes and pans that you’ve used so you don’t have to worry about it later and wipes down the counter

You’re more excited than usual to invite your in-laws to Christmas Dinner

You’ve grown super close to them since Gaz joined Task Force 141, they were your rock during his absence

If you ever needed help with the kids or were just lonely, they would welcome you into their home with open arms

You’d sit with them and talk about how you missed Gaz or how good of a father and partner he was

They’d reminisce about raising him and the childhood they worked so hard to provide for him, going through a photo album of baby Kyle and explaining the backstory behind each picture

Throughout the dinner Gaz sees how close you’ve gotten with his family and it’s not just you, his kids have also grown accustomed to seeing their grandparents regularly

That Christmas is so hard for him because he just wants to be able to be with you and kids again

He knew what he was getting into when he joined 141 and he still believes in the cause but seeing his family get along and be happy makes it a challenge for him not to go back to the SAS

“You know I love you, right?” He’ll ask after dinner. He start saying it a lot more often because if something does happen to him, he doesn’t want their to be a doubt in your mind about how much he loves you and the kids

As the end of his leave time approaches, he kisses you nonstop and holds you and the kids tight, knowing he’ll have to say goodbye soon

John Price

Every year there’s at least one gift that relates to the military

It all started when your son wrote that he wanted nerf guns on his Christmas list one year

That Christmas you and your husband watched your son and daughter go to war with one another, running around the house and hiding under tables, trying to shoot each other with foam bullets

Price thought it was hilarious and the kids clearly enjoyed it, so he started gifting them foam weapons and toy sets with fake knives, grenades and binoculars

He enjoys watching his kids play with each other and was particularly amused one day when your son was army crawling around in the grass trying to sneak up on his sister

That next Christmas he got your son a ghillie suit which he became absolutely infatuated with

You’d call the kids in for dinner and your son would walk in looking like a mountain of grass

That one gift was what started the tradition of gifting actual military gear

While your daughter just likes getting things she and her brother can play together with, your son becomes interested in actual military equipment

His Christmas lists will start to include things like a tact helmet or vest

One time, he got them both night vision goggles which sucked for you because when he had to leave the kids wanted to stay up all night and play in the dark

(Side note: His kids have definitely picked up on words that relate to the military and war but they don’t fully know what the words mean so they’ll say things like “homework is propaganda”)

Something oddly specific that Price is thankful for is the fact that the older his kids get, the longer they want to sleep in

He loves watching the kids get excited from seeing the present under the tree and all but he enjoys the few hours he has in the morning where he can just hold you close

You two already don’t get to have a lot of time together because of your husband’s line of work and having two children didn’t help since most of your attention revolves around them

He cherishes the mornings where everything’s calm and quite and you’re curled up in his arms without a care in the world

Kate Laswell

She’s very efficient went it comes to buying the kids Christmas presents

When your kids write their Christmas lists, you two split the responsibility, she buys half and you buy the rest

It minimizes the time you have to spend buying gifts and you two usually get it done early so there’s no last minute present hunting, it makes the process quick and painless

During the week of Christmas, you two would take your kids to a café so they could have sweet treats for breakfast and a nice hot chocolate with a small candy cane to stir the piping liquid

After that you’d walk down the street, checking out different gift and pop-up shops so the kids could get Christmas souvenirs

Kate loves taking pictures of you all during the holidays and would definitely take your kids to get their pictures taken with a mall Santa

All of the photos would go in a photo album she has of all the happy memories and milestones you’ve all had over the years

The night before she has to leave for work again, you two sit on the porch and watch the snow fall

Your ears pick up on the sound of a quite ‘flck’ and you turn to see your wife lighting a cigarette, “Kate.”

A small chuckle escapes her lips, she knows how much you hate when she smokes, “It’s Christmas. Humor me, just this once.”

You don’t want your last night together to be a fight so you don’t push the issue but you don’t hide your disapproval either, “Those things are bad for you.”

She takes your hand in hers, intertwining your fingers, “Believe me, I’ve been through worse.”

You know she has and it’s why you worry each time she’s away, you brush your fingers against her knuckles, “Do you have to go?”

“Unfortunately,” she exhales the smoke from her cigarette, giving your hand a gentle squeeze, “But I’ll be back before you know it. I promise.”

Farah Karim

Similar to Ghost, she’s a good parent but sometimes struggles to connect with them emotionally

Your kids would absolutely adore her though

I mean, she’s the most badass role model any kid could have

They always make sure she’s involved in activities, even if she’s too busy to actual partake

She’ll be talking to one of her soldiers on the phone when, all of a sudden, her kids run up to her to hand her Christmas treats and hot cocoa that they made with you

She tends to think of her brother a lot during the holidays, gifting her kids things that she and Hadir enjoyed as children

She doesn’t ever want them to go through what she went through with her brother, first losing her parent and the Hadir turning on her

She teaches them to respect each other and will immediately shut down any fights they have

She appreciates that you light three candles each Christmas for her brother and parents, it’s a subtle acknowledgment of the family she’s lost without crossing any boundaries or opening up old wounds

Although a big portion of her time is preoccupied by the work she’s does to protect her homeland as well as you and your children, she always makes sure that on the holidays there will be a few days where her focus is solely on you and the kids

The kids eat this up and immediately put her to work, they love having her undivided attention and all the Christmas activities she wasn’t able to do before they have her do now

They’ve already make Christmas cookies with you so they’ll make gingerbread houses with her

I also think that because her soldiers are like family, they’d hold a small ceremony where each each soldier brings their loved ones and they pass around little homemade gifts that they made with their family

On the night of Christmas, you and Farah sit in front of the three candles you had lit, in a few minutes it’ll be twelve am and Christmas will officially be over

”Do you want to have the honor of blowing them out?” you ask

She gives you a soft smile, “I’ll let them burn a little longer.”

She wonders if her parents and brother can see her, if they’re glad to see her living a happy life with you and the kids

You move closer, wrapping an arm around her, “I’m sure they’d be proud of you, Farah. So proud.”

Alex Keller

I feel like he’d be such a good girl dad

On Christmas Eve morning, he’d be laying on his stomach in the living room with his daughters sitting on either side of him

Christmas movies would be playing in the background, his youngest letting him pick the colors for his hundredth friendship bracelet while his oldest crochets a snowman with a red and green scarf

His daughters are very crafty so they’d enjoy decorating the house and Christmas tree

After Thanksgiving when all of the Christmas stuff is on display, you’d take the girls shopping for lights, ornaments, tinsels, etc.

Alex will lift your youngest daughter so she can string up decorations while your oldest tells her if something needs to be moved to the right or left so everything’s perfectly even

They also like frosting Christmas cookies but instead of just slapping random colors on the cookie, they pick colors that look pretty together and try to be as neat as possible which contradicts their fathers hot mess of an icing job

You wouldn’t be surprised if they decided that they wanted to pick up cookie frosting as a hobby

There are things that Alex was able to do before, like run around with the kids in the snow, that he can’t do now because of his prosthetic leg

The girls don’t mind though, they actually go out of their way to make sure he’s comfortable, even treating him like he’s made out of glass at times despite the fact that he’s still actively fights in Urzikstan

But it’s sweet how much they care about their father and his well-being

While you’re cleaning up after dinner, Alex will wrap his arms around you from behind, his mustache tickling your skin as he presses soft kisses to your neck

He thanks you for dinner and tells you how good the food was

In turn, you tell him how much you and the girls miss him while he’s away, you jokingly add on, “I was hoping your leg would be enough to make you retire.”

He laughs at that and promising you that it won’t be long now, soon he’ll finally return to you and the kids for good

Phillip Graves

Considering he and Shadow Company work for whoever has the most money, you know he can afford anything on his kids Christmas list

He’ll send you a large sum of money while he’s away so you won’t have any trouble buying presents and the gifts he get you are usually quite expensive

In the weeks leading up to Christmas, you two message each other nonstop

You talk about what you got the kids, what you’ll be making for Christmas dinner, when he’s coming home, things like that

He’ll send you flirty text like “you know what I want for Christmas?” with a winky face or “Wear something pretty when I come home.”

The kids are always excited when their father comes home, they tell him what they wrote down on their Christmas list and which gifts they’re really hoping they get

He tells them that they better be good if they want all those presents, knowing damn well that you’ve already bought every single thing on those lists

I feel like he’d prefer a real tree over a fake tree for no other reason besides the fact that it looks better so each year he takes the kids to look at Christmas trees and, of course, the kids along with their father always want the biggest most badass looking tree

He’ll bring a tote bin up from the basement that’s full of last year’s Christmas decorations and you’ll all decorate the tree as a family

You cringe each time you watch pine needles fall as you wrap the tree in lights and tinsel, you know it’ll be a pain to clean up when Christmas is over but you let it happen every year anyway because you see how happy it makes your husband and children

When Graves puts the kids down for bed, you know exactly what he’s gonna do next

He exits the kids bedroom, closing the door behind him, and he’s on you in seconds

His lips capture yours in a heated kiss as he walks you towards your shared bedroom

“We need to wrap the kids’ presents-,” you try to remind him but he cuts you off with a kiss and tells you, “We can do that later, baby.”

photo creds (pinterest): goldeagleactual - ghost, soap/price, farah/alex | SimpsxCod - gaz | cavantine - kate | julikuli666 - graves

#cod x reader #modern warfare x reader #simon riley x reader #john mactavish x reader #kyle garrick x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #john price x reader #kate laswell x reader #farah karim x reader #alex keller x reader #phillip graves x reader

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madridfangirl · 1 month ago

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Star crossed lovers (Jude Bellingham fic)

Chapter 16

(Series Link)

Jude * female reader. Mature Language in parts.

Synopsis: A chance encounter in a tiny Madrid cafe with the newest superstar of her fav club. The two couldn't be more different, yet both feel the pull toward the other. Would this girl be the one he finally falls for? Or would life come in the way of these star-crossed lovers?

..................................................

Ananya stared at the photo without blinking. Consciously trying to figure whether this was real or a cruel nightmare she’d wake up from any second.

When her phone flashed with Roma’s name, she knew she was living her nightmare. There was no escape.

‘Finally.’

Roma’s relieved voice came from the speaker, while Ananya’s eyes were still glued to the photo.

‘Say something girl. Please.’

There was no point asking if Ananya had seen the article and the photos, and that one photo in particular. The deafening eerie silence at the other end was confirmation enough.

‘She’s pretty, isn’t she?’

Roma started pacing around her boyfriend’s living room. This is exactly what she was worried about. That her friend would somehow find a way to take it upon herself, instead of being raving mad at that fucker.

‘No babe, don’t do that to yourself.’

‘Well she is. Very beautiful.’

‘I DON’T FUCKING CARE how she looks or who she is. This is not about her.’

Ananya shook her head ruefully, and spoke in a small, faraway voice.

‘She is just his type.’

Roma wanted to throw her phone at the wall. And Jude out of the window.

Guilt was hitting her in truckloads. And she cursed the moment when she had encouraged Ananya to give this relationship a shot. Moments rather, coz there had been many. She had been #TeamJude every step of the way. Look where it got her friend.

But this wasn’t the time to have her own meltdown. She needed to be strong for Ananya, whose voice & state she was struggling to read presently. Getting her to talk was crucial.

‘Has he called? Has he tried to explain?’

‘He hasn’t called since he left Madrid last weekend. And what’s left to explain in this?’

The article stated specifically that the images had not been tampered with, they had the original & had verified it. There were two eyewitness accounts confirming it too. Who further added that the ‘couple’ were ‘cozy’ and ‘inseparable’ all night. Other than the lip-lock photo, there were a few others of them sitting close to each other in a small group, smiling, having drinks, giggling. The over-familiarity all too visible. This was more than the usual Jude friendliness, no one could convince Ananya otherwise. Not even Jude.

There was nothing left to clarify. Maybe he didn’t even feel the need to. The fact that there wasn’t even a peep from him yet was maybe his way of sending a message. That whatever ‘arrangement’ they had, it was over.

Roma had no logical counter to this, but some instinct was telling her to hear Jude’s side of the story. That is, if he had a side to share and if he had any interest in sharing it. Sadly, Ananya’s reading of it was very much a possibility. Roma had to admit that Jude was capable of it. He moved on quickly from his arrangements, without much care for who or what was left behind. Somehow though, she was convinced that he was different with Ananya. Their interactions over the last 2 months further solidified her belief that Jude genuinely cared for Ananya. How could both of them read him so wrong? Something about it was not sitting right, but the lip-lock photo was staring her in the face. How could she deny that? How could she give any false hope to her friend, when she had already caused her so much pain?

Her friend may not have been showing that pain explicitly, but Roma knew Ananya was falling back on the veneer of logic & practicality in order to hide her vulnerability & heartbreak. The shield was up, guarding her from further hurt.

‘Why didn’t you stop me, Roma? These silly fairytales never work, they always end this way. Why didn’t you tell me he was out of my league?’

‘He is not out of your league. YOU ARE OUT OF HIS LEAGUE. If all he wants to do is fuck those dumb bimbos who run after him 24*7 then to hell with him.’

‘See, you’re doing it again.’

‘I am telling you PLAIN FACTS ANANYA. He was not the catch in this one, YOU ARE.’

Ananya laughed a deeply broken laugh. And Roma wished if she could somehow teleport and be with her friend right now. Her being all alone in that apartment and in Madrid had come at the worst time.

‘He could have at least told me himself. I deserved that much, no?’

Roma fought the urge to curse the living daylights out of that bastard. But something was telling her that despite all this, Ananya still won’t like that.

‘You deserved a lot more. You deserve a lot better than that asshole.’

‘I…wait what time is it in the US right now? Must be way past midnight right?’

‘Doesn’t matter.’

‘Go to sleep, Roma.’

‘Rubbish. Talk to me. I’m not leaving you alone.’

‘Actually I kinda want to be alone. You know that’s how I process things.’

‘But…’

‘I’d be here when you wake up. Won’t do something stupid, if that’s what you are worried about.’

‘I don’t like how put together you sound.’

Ananya laughed that distant laugh again. It sounded so bitter and unpleasant to Roma, she never wanted to hear that sound again.

‘Want me to bawl my eyes out? That would be a natural & healthy reaction?’

‘Yes. That’s how I’d know it has hit you.’

Roma responded without missing a beat. She knew Ananya had this internal way of dealing with things but even then this felt messed up.

Ananya didn’t know how to articulate to her friend anymore. The tears were just not coming. The absolute sense of distraughtness and betrayal she should feel right now was just not happening. Maybe, maybe, a part of her always knew this would happen & was prepared for this? Maybe that’s why she was being able to disassociate herself from the situation and look at it so dispassionately?

‘Go to sleep Roma. You’ve been up all night. And remember - don’t contact him at all. No message, no call, just nothing. Don’t say anything to him. Maybe he’s even blocked us by now.’

It was part of his modus operandi. Ananya won’t be surprised.

Roma could see what Ananya was doing. The hurt was making her think of the worst and be prepared for it so even if that happens it doesn’t hurt her further. And Roma couldn’t blame her for acting this way. Because the pictures were damning, as were the eyewitness accounts.

She hated herself for pushing Ananya into his arms. The first date, her hesitation before she slept with him, all of that was dancing in Roma’s head, making her feel responsible for the hot mess her friend was in. Despite being aware of her emotionally fragile state and baggage from her previous relationship, Roma had still urged her to give it a go. Because she herself would have given it a go. But Roma should have thought of what was best for Ananya and not how she would respond to such a situation. She had failed as a friend, and Ananya was paying the worst possible price.

‘I’m so sorry babe. I really am.’

‘Stop that right now. You didn’t know him.’

‘I should have known.’

‘Hindsight is a bitch, ok? And guess what - I actually did know this is how he was. Because he told me. In his own words. With examples. But I still somehow convinced myself that I’d be the girl he’d change himself for. How delusional of me. Men like that don’t change, not really, I should have known. If anything, it’s my fault for still going ahead with it despite knowing everything about him.’

‘How about saying IT’S HIS FAULT? Coz that’s the only fucking thing that’s absolutely undeniable.’

‘Sure.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Look we can say whatever. But he’s not the one getting hurt. Maybe he’s still with…with her….right now. Having the time of his life. The only one responsible for my decisions is me. Can’t expect anyone else to make those calls or hold my hand through those. Especially when I knew everything about him. So you can say whatever and blame whoever but it was my decision and I have to live with it. That’s how it is in life. Ultimately you are on your own.’

‘You’re scaring the shit out of me Ananya. You’re not sounding ok.’

‘Actually I’m quite ok. Thinking clearly & straight. Maybe should have done that earlier but it is what it is. Now go, we’ll speak in a few hours. Don’t worry about me. I’m a big girl, I can handle this.’

Roma had no doubt that Ananya was strong when she needed to be. But there is a time to be strong and a time to have a complete meltdown. She should be having a meltdown right now and not vice versa. But, the best Roma could do in this situation was to be there in whatever approach her friend took.

‘I know you can. I know you will. Talk to you in a few hours, yeah?’

‘Yes. Bye.’

‘Bye babe.’

When Ananya hung up, she didn’t know what to do with herself the next second. Looking at her phone anymore made her pukish. Staying away from it made her anxious. Watching something on OTT or just lying in bed made her dizzy.

Other than Roma, no one else close to her knew about Jude. And she didn’t want to bother her friend beyond a point either. Roma was meeting Chris after 6 long months and it was Christmas for crying out loud. Why ruin it for others just because her life was fucked up right now.

There was no one else to talk to. Which, in hindsight, was a silver lining. No one else would know what a royal fool she had made of herself. She could almost picture her cousin scoffing at her for trying to be in a ‘relationship’ with a playboy footballer who claimed to want to change for her. That only happened in rom-coms, not in real life. Thing is, she knew that. Very well. But still could not resist him. Solely her fault.

The face of that girl kept flashing in front of her eyes - Ananya couldn’t get her out of her head.

Then she did something she wasn’t proud of. That she absolutely should not have done. In a weak moment, she found that girl’s Insta and went through her pics.

She was stunningly beautiful. Perfect features. Perfect figure. Perfect hair. Perfect style. Gorgeous from head to toe. The kind of girl who would look perfect on Jude’s arm. The kind of girl Jude would want to show off to the world. Definitely the kind of girl he’d love to take to bed. Given their history and the fact they were on/off for ~2 years or so, they would have explored pretty much everything intimate together. She would have satisfied Jude in ways Ananya couldn’t even imagine.

It made sense for Jude to want to be with her. To go back to her. It was logical.

Why was it making Ananya’s head spin then?

She couldn’t be alone with her thoughts, not right now. Even roaming the streets in this chilly winter morning was an acceptable alternative. At least it would numb her, in more ways than one. And she set out to do just that.

Unaware of the absolute carnage he had caused, Jude was passed out in his bed. His team had obviously seen the article and images, as had his parents. The strategy was going to be no comment, as always; it would die down in a few days or a few weeks, as was the norm.

Denise knew Jude had returned in the early hours of the morning and no good would come from speaking to him at this time. So no one had bothered to wake him up. His phone was burning up with messages from friends and teammates, but he was too deep in his drunken stupor.

No one in his close circle knew why this would be catastrophic for Jude or unlike any previous tabloid pieces on him. No one other than Jobe.

When Jobe woke up around 9:30 am, from the constant notifications, he stared at his phone in disbelief. Then, he ran to Jude.

Not bothering to knock or anything, he breezed past his brother’s bedroom door to find him face down on the bed. Drooling in his sleep. The clothes & shoes from last night thrown around the room.

Jobe shook his arm. No response.

Then he shook him harder. Jude whined loudly.

‘Go away.’

‘Stop being a brat & wake the fuck up. Right now.’

That got Jude’s attention. Because Jobe rarely took that tone with him.

Rubbing his eyes, still half disoriented, he sat up on the bed.

‘What is it?’

Jobe just threw his phone in Jude’s lap.

And the colour drained from Jude’s face. In real time.

Frozen, wide-eyed, he stared at the photo on the screen. A million thoughts scrambling in his head yet not a single coherent one coming out.

‘Shit. No no no GOD NO.’

Jude looked up desperately at his brother, who was looking back intently with his arms crossed, trying to get a read on him.

‘See the rest of it.’

Jobe said plainly; his tone cutting through Jude’s mumbling sounds.

When Jude did, he almost wished he hadn’t. Every image, every caption more damning than the other. He could see what it looked like. And nothing was as stark as that ‘lip-lock’ thing.

The denial and shock made way to sudden rage at this massive invasion of privacy.

‘It was a fucking private club that charged buttloads for being so. Who the fuck even took these?’

‘So it’s true then?’

Jobe’s posture was neutral, but Jude saw the irritation in his tone.

‘NO. I mean, not all of it. Its….its not what it looks like.’

‘Cut the bullshit & tell me straight. Did something happen with her last night?’

Shoulders dropped in defeat, Jude covered his face with both his hands. Jobe knew him the best. And if even he had to ask this, what hope could he have with her?

‘It’s not what it looks like.’

Jude whispered, almost to himself, swaying from side to side.

Jobe eyed him for a few moments. It didn’t feel like his brother was lying, but he was guilty about something.

‘How would I get her to believe me, Jobe?’

He was still hiding beneath his hands. Hoping for this new reality to just vanish.

‘Do you want to?’

Jude grabbed his hand and pulled his brother down to sit close to him. Then, he flung himself at Jobe and Jobe’s arms came around his shoulders, hugging him back.

‘Please, not you too. You gotta believe me, please.’

‘I’m not the one you need to convince bro.’

Jude looked up at him then, with such hope & nerves that it tugged at Jobe’s heart.

‘I need to know this. Do you believe me?’

A long pause.

‘Yes.’

Jude went back into Jobe’s arms, as the younger boy patted his brother’s back gently.

‘Talk to her. Tell her everything.’

Jobe hadn’t understood what the ‘everything’ was but looking at Jude, he could tell there was more than meets the eye. His brother seemed to have fucked up somehow, just not as much as it looked like.

Jude kept his head buried in Jobe’s chest. He couldn’t seem to catch a break. This couldn’t have come at a worst time. Just when she was starting to….

‘Can you check my phone? See if there’s anything from her?’

He was too anxious to check himself, like there was some finality to it.

‘There’s nothing.’

Somehow, that was even worse.

‘Maybe she hasn’t seen it yet. It’s what, 11 am in Madrid?'

‘She has. I can feel that she has.’

‘Call her then.’

Jude’s fingers hovered over the call button, and finally Jobe clicked it for him.

It rang once. No response. They tried again. No response. One more time. Same result.

‘She’s got a roommate no? Call her maybe?’

Jude knew that if they had talked, then he won’t get a different response from Roma. He’d probably get a worse response in fact.

But he was desperate. So he tried it. Two full rings, nothing.

Then it hit him. During one of the movie nights at Ananya’s place, Roma had mentioned about her Christmas plans. One quick look at her Insta and Jude knew she was back in the US. She had been there all week.

So Ananya was alone in Madrid? All this week? That sucked big time. And he didn’t even realise that. Until now.

He looked at Jobe in despair.

‘Text her. Leave her a voice note. You can’t not do anything.’

When Jude opened his chat window with her, he realised that was all he had done all week. Just texts & voice notes. Brief. Hurried. But there was no time to kick himself. Time was of utmost essence right now.

‘Trying to reach you, dove. Pls call me back.’

Then he went back to staring at his phone, willing her to respond, while Jobe walked around the room, thinking what else could be done here.

One full hour passed. And Jude’s heart sank further with each minute.

Meanwhile, Ananya was taking a long walk on the Madrid streets in the mind-numbing cold. When the chill got too much to handle, she went to a nearby mall and sat at a coffee shop. Initially, the hustle & bustle around her was a welcome distraction. But soon it became unbearable. Happy families, cheerful friends and loving couples. While she didn’t have anyone right now. Their happiness was mocking her. So she took the long walk back home, delaying reaching that place to the extent possible.

Once inside, where she could feel her fingers again, she pulled out her phone & found 3 missed calls + three messages from her supposed boyfriend.

Boyfriend. Yeah right.

She read the first message and scoffed at the nick-name.

The next one had come 15 mins after the first.

‘Missing you. Pls talk to me.’

She scoffed harder at the ‘missing’ part. Last week was surely a unique way of missing her. She looked at the last message finally.

‘Baby I’m worried now. Need to hear your voice.’

This charade needed to end. She needed to rip off this band-aid. Maybe it would even give her some clarity?

Ananya stood in front of the mirror and took a long hard look at herself. She still hadn’t cried yet. Not a single tear. She didn’t know why.

Maybe because she had been an emotional wreck in her last relationship. So much that she couldn’t even recognise herself at times. That had not done anyone any good. She had vowed to be different in this one. To be the voice of reason & logic, not some sobbing little sap.

Was it really not normal? Was Roma right? She didn’t know, but at least this steeled up state put her in a decent space to talk to him and get it over with. To see what kind of story he would concoct. At least she won’t be a mess in front of him. She won’t give him the satisfaction of breaking her.

Just then, her phone flashed with a video call from Jude. She disconnected it & dialled him on audio. Jude nearly dropped the phone when she called back - with relief and with nerves.

‘Oh thank god. I was starting to get worried.’

‘Hmm.’

‘Let me see you, dove? Let’s face-time?’

‘I think this is fine.’

Awkward silence ensued. Ananya had no intention of helping him or giving him any segue. The least he could do was man up and have the balls to admit what he did. She waited for him to get there.

Her aloofness was confirmation enough. She had seen everything. Read everything. Suddenly Jude was at a loss for words. So he blurted out the first thing that came to his mind.

‘It’s not what it looks like.’

And there it was.

‘The photos are doctored?’

‘No, but..’

‘The kiss didn’t happen?

‘It did, but…’

‘Did you sleep with her?’

‘WHAT?’

‘What part of that did you not understand? Did you spend last night with her? Are you still in her bed or on your way back?’

The sheer lack of emotion in her tone made her sound so cold. Distant. It hit him like a whiplash.

Jude had heard a similar voice before, when the earlier tabloid piece had come out. But this was 10x of that. This was his Ananya but not really. It’s like she had locked her emotions away, only letting her brain come to the fore.

‘I’m home, babe.’

‘Oh. Didn’t have a morning tumble then? Thought you really liked those.’

Jude shut his eyes tightly, and ran his spare hand through his hair. Absolutely losing handle on the conversation.

‘Please I’m begging you pls just hear me out ONCE. Please.’

He heard a sharp intake of breath at the other end. A decision had been reached.

‘Fine.’

‘We bumped into each other at a private club yesterday. Hadn’t seen each other in over 2 years so just got talking. Remember, we were friends before we started dating, yeah? She was mostly talking about football and how great it was to see my journey. Then we spoke about some school mates and what they were up to right now. Shared a laugh or two about them. That’s what you see in the other photos. It wasn’t some personal conversation about her & I or our time together. We didn’t go there, I swear.’

‘And yet you magically kissed after that? How amusing.’

Jude sighed deeply. This next part would be a lot harder to navigate, he knew that already.

‘We were drunk. Out of our wits. The lads wanted to go to another club so when we were pushing off, I leaned in to greet her and….kiss her goodbye….on her cheek. In hindsight should not have done that either but hindsight is a bitch. She….she turned her face at the last moment and…it turned into a proper kiss. But I swear I pulled away immediately.’

Ananya laughed that bitter laugh, the one Roma had heard a few hours ago. It turned Jude’s hands cold.

‘So she came on to you? That’s the line you’re taking?’

‘Well that or she was drunk & it was an accident for her too.’

‘I see. Which one do you think it was? Accident or she wanted to kiss you?’

The cold hands suddenly were clammy now.

‘I…I don’t know.’

“Do me a favour & take a guess.’

He knew she could sense the guilt in his voice, hence was doubling down. In a different situation he was capable of straight up lying & getting away. But with her he just couldn’t.

‘I-I think I may have… led her on. It may have looked more to her than what it was.’

Zero response from the other end. Just the sound of her breathing. He took it as a cue to continue.

‘Given our history…and familiarity…our proximity may have given her the impression that I was….interested.’

‘That, and the coziness and the inseparability, yeah?’

‘Don’t believe the tabloid captions, babe. You know what they are like.’

‘I’m gonna believe my eyes. I saw how you were with her. In every photo, not just THAT one.’

‘I swear I didn’t…’

She cut him off, having heard enough of his swears.

‘Why didn’t you tell me immediately? Why didn’t I hear this from you?’

‘It was late. I was drunk. Wasn’t thinking straight. Was still trying to understand what the fuck just happened.’

‘And you didn’t know there was going to be any evidence of it.’

Long pregnant pause. Then a small choked voice.

‘Yes.’

‘Hmm. So your intentions were all holy & pure but she misunderstood them somehow and came on to you and kissed you. And it only happened ONCE but somehow in just that ONE moment there was someone to capture that clear photo. Then you went your separate ways yet you didn’t bother to tell your current girlfriend that this gigantic thing happened with your ex-girlfriend. And now you feel you may have led her on inadvertently. That sums it up?’

‘I know how it sounds. I know how it would have looked to you but baby please trust me I didn’t want anything with her. Not for a second.’

‘So you say.’

‘My friends were with me all night. I can get any of them to talk to you.’

‘As if they haven’t lied for you or covered for you before.’

They had. Many times. Jude had no counter to this.

His desperation was at its peak now. He could feel her slipping away. Rapidly.

‘You know what you mean to me. In your heart you know how precious you are to me. Why would I intentionally do anything to screw that up?’

She scoffed so derisively it cut through his soul.

‘Precious? Sure. That’s why you forgot about me all week, as soon as I was out of sight. And someone else was in sight.’

That was one thought Ananya couldn’t shake. That it wasn’t the only time they had met. Maybe the reason he was so MIA this week was because of that girl.

Jude was distraught. She was landing punch after punch. Every word piercing, laden with truth. And he had no defence to any of it.

‘Why are you talking to me like this? Like you don’t…care anymore. Like it doesn’t matter anymore. Like you’ve already decided I’m guilty and…and…whatever I say makes no difference.’

She refused to humour that with a response. It was self-explanatory according to her.

‘Don’t do this. Please I’m scared. Don’t pull away like this. I don’t know what to do, dove. You know me. You’ve always understood me. Pls one more time, pls try to understand.’

Understanding him was all she had done since she met him. His ways, his lifestyle, his schedules, his highs & lows, his moods, his past.

But not only had he made a mickey out of her feelings, he was also insulting her intelligence now by cooking up this convenient story. That was a double whammy she refused to take.

Her silence was making his pulse go a million miles per second.

He needed her back, right fucking now.

‘Look, once I am back there in a few days it will be fine, ok? We’ll meet and we’ll be together and you’ll realise it was all a big misunderstanding. Can’t wait to have you in my arms.’

She had no interest in being subjected to his seductive charm or manipulative ways again. Just so he could reel her back in.

‘I won’t be here when you return.’

‘Wh-what does that mean?’

‘I have moved up my trip to India, leaving in 2 days.’

‘Whyy? When did you…when are you back?’

‘Don’t know yet.’

‘What about work?’

‘Work from home is allowed under special circumstances. I’ll think of something.’

‘So you’re just going to walk out?’

‘Some distance wouldn’t hurt.’

‘Distance from me?’

‘From everything. But yes, mostly from you.’

That was a bodyblow which made him nearly tumble over in pain and hurt. Disorienting him to the point he didn’t know what he was saying anymore.

‘So you’ll run at the first sign of trouble? Not gonna fight for us? I thought you hated your ex for doing that.’

Boy, was that a low blow. She was fuming. If he were near she could have strangled him with her bare hands. After everything he had done, everything they had been through, every time she had given him the benefit of the doubt, the bastard had the audacity to say first sign of trouble? ‘First’? Like it was her fault they were in this mess. Like she was the one who had cheated.

But why was she surprised? Jude was like any other man, clearly. It was always the girl’s fault. Always.

She won’t give him the satisfaction to get a reaction out of her anymore. He didn’t even deserve her anger.

After a few deep breaths and the burning sting of her nails in her thighs, she recovered.

‘You’re right. I’m the one to blame here.’

‘Can you GET OFF YOUR HIGH HORSE FOR ONE FUCKING MINUTE and talk like a real person? A person with feelings other than sarcasm?’

Her patience reached its limits.

‘I think we’ve hurt each other enough, yeah? Let’s call it a day.’

‘Are you for real right now?’

‘Are you?’

‘Waittt. Please wait. Pls this can’t be happening. It’s ME. It’s US. How could you walk away from us?’

‘Bye Jude.’

‘NO. NO. Dove please just…’

Her resolve was fast breaking, as was her voice. Despite everything, she couldn’t see him in pain. Not like this.

‘Have a good…good one Jude.’

With that, she hung up.

And all the pent up emotion came flooding out of her eyes.

She cried and cried, falling face down on the bed, clutching the phone to her chest, trying to remember the sound of his voice, because maybe, maybe, this was the last time she had heard it.

Every inch of this house was filled with his memories.

The dining table was where they had their first kiss. The couch had been the place for endless cuddles, cozy dinners and movie nights. The kitchen is where he usually followed her into, as she tried to wrap up some chores or fix them a snack.

Her bedroom was the worst. So many nights cuddled up together, when he came to her post matches or out of city travels. Their first time had also happened here. The desk, the walls just reminded her of the countless times he had backed her against those.

The place smelled of him. She could almost see his face anywhere she looked.

And she ran. To the first decent escape she could find - a movie hall. A random Spanish language movie was playing, but at least she wasn’t in a place that felt like a graveyard of his memories.

She had sworn to herself to not break this time. No, she will be strong through all this. She will not be a weeping mess. She will not let her heart knock her down, not again.

She had been through this once, she was equipped to handle this.

Jude, on the other hand, had no idea what hit him.

This kind of pain he was not familiar with. When you have no control over your life, and your happiness / sanity is entirely in another person’s hands. The sheer helplessness of it completely caught him off guard.

Why did it have to happen now? Just when he was truly giving it a shot. When she was starting to open up to him. Why now?

He wasn’t even sure what exactly had happened, given how quickly things transpired and boiled up.

Jobe came to check on him a few minutes later and found him sitting on the floor, leaning against the bed. He was quiet, far too quiet for Jobe’s liking.

He sat down next to his big brother, and put an arm around his shoulder. Jude leaned into his touch immediately, leaving his body loose against Jobe’s.

‘Didn’t go well?’

Jobe asked softly.

‘It was horrible. Nasty.’

Jude managed to utter, almost mumbling to himself.

‘Tell me what happened.’

Jude gave a summary and Jobe sighed through it. Once done, Jude looked at his little brother for some suggestion. Or some words of comfort. Or both.

But Jobe’s face was telling him what he needed to know. What he knew already.

‘It’s fucked up, isn’t it?’

‘It is bad bro, not gonna lie. But, maybe, give her some time and it’d get better?’

Jude kept shaking his head, staring into a void.

Ten mins passed by and Jude sat like that. Without saying another word. Just leaning into Jobe.

This was new territory for Jobe as well. He had seen Jude through a ton of lows, mostly professional, but Jude took those to heart as well so they turned personal for him.

But the thing with Jude was, he was always expressive. Emotional. Animated. Wearing his heart on his sleeve. Whether he was angry or upset or sad he would still express his emotion passionately.

It was very rare for Jude to get this quiet. The last time he’d been like this was when Dortmund lost the league on the last match-day. Jobe could tell how dire this was for him.

He pulled out his phone slowly and opened his chat window with Ananya. The pair had actually exchanged a few messages this week. Random stuff - books, shows etc.

But what could he say to her? Was it his place to intervene? He had only met her like 9 days ago. Only spent a few hours with her. Would it make things worse if he says anything?

Something in his gut was telling him to still do it, and Jobe believed in following his instinct.

‘Hey. Hope you’re doing ok.’

A few seconds later, he could see her typing back.

‘Hey.’

‘I’m sorry for butting in, I really am, but for what it’s worth I don’t think he’s lying.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘Because I’ve never seen him like this. Ever.’

‘Were you with him last night?’

‘No.’

‘Then you can’t say for sure.’

‘I know it. I can tell.’

‘You love him, Jobe. He’s your brother. I get it that you’d believe him. But I hope you can see why I can’t.’

Jobe didn’t know what to say beyond this. The writing was on the wall. Loud & clear.

Jude was still zonked out. This had gone beyond Jobe’s handling power. He needed the big gun here.

Denise got Jobe’s message and came into the room, finding both her boys sitting on the floor. Air filled with doom & gloom.

Alarmed, she rushed to them and Jobe stood up, letting Denise take his place next to Jude.

Jude immediately melted in Denise’s arms, placing his head on her lap.

She patted him gently, rocking him a little while Jobe filled her in about Ananya.

Denise wasn’t surprised; she had known all along something was different with Jude last few weeks. She had even hinted it to him once or twice but eventually let it be, thinking he’d come tell her when he’s ready. If he’s ready. But she didn’t know it was something deep. Something this deep.

Jude’s face and silence was telling her all she needed to know. About how much that girl meant to her boy.

She ran her hand through his hair, and stroked his shoulder with the other hand. Jude sighed in her lap, near tears. The moment reminded her of how Jude had cried while leaving Birmingham City 3.5 years also. Even then he had been on the floor, while she tried to console her 17 year old who was moving away from home forever.

‘Do you want to make this right, Jude?’

Her tone was loving, but not overly so. Because she knew how heartbroken that girl would be at the other end, far worse than her son. And her son needed to learn that actions have consequences, especially in matters of the heart.

Jude whimpered out a response.

‘Ofcourse, mum. I need her. What do I do?’

‘If you truly want to be with her, then you’d know what to do. Think what she would want you to do right now.’

And instantly, it hit Jude.

Ananya returned late in the evening, and was just taking off her coat, when she heard her doorbell.

Thinking it must be some neighbourhood folks coming to offer her Christmas pudding, AGAIN, she dragged herself to the door.

And found him on the other side. The man of her dreams. The cause of her nightmares. Jude fucking Bellingham was standing at her door, with a bouquet of white tulips in his hand.

...........................................................................................

There you go.

I broke the original idea of the chapter into two - Ch 16 and 17.

Else it was becoming a very long & emotionally draining one chapter.

This should give you more clarity.

As always, would love to hear your thoughts / comments / messages.

#jude bellingham #real madrid #bellingham #jude #jb5 #jb #jude bellingham smut #jude fanfic #bellingham x reader #star crossed lovers #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham blurb #desi girl #jude bellingham angst #jude fic #jobe bellingham

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tess-talks-inc · 4 months ago

Text

On the Topic of Telemachus’s age:

First off preface lmao I’m a stranger on the internet if you want to see this and be like “I don’t care” more power to you this isn’t to condemn it’s more like my explanation? I guess? Of why Telemachus being represented as an adult is important to the context of the story and also to me.

Like obviously once again I acknowledge artistic interpretation, and Telemachus being young is important to the story as well and is part of the role he serves as a comparison to Odysseus, but like sometimes the way some artists draw him makes him look pre-pubescent and like… I understand what you’re doing, and honestly I respect it and I hope you are having fun, but I am holding your hands when I say that him being a young adult with that attitude is so so so important to his character and his relatability.

Adulthood isn’t something that magically appears one day, taking all of your dreams, immaturity, and weakness away. Telemachus embodies that- at twenty years old, he should be inheriting a portion of his father’s house and assisting in its running. He should, for all intents and purposes, have been a full and functional independent adult looking at purely his age. However, he is both literally and mentally stuck in limbo- his father is lost, so he cannot inherit in the case of his father’s death because Odysseus’ status is MIA, and internally he knows (literally mentioned book 1 of the odyssey and in Legendary) that if he reaches for that authority as an adult, the suitors will kill him. He doesn’t feel like he can, or that he is even on equal standing to the suitors as an adult man, he cannot see himself as one like they are, and it’s why he imagines his dad doing it instead. He wants to be saved, a childlike desire, even though he has advanced to a point where he himself can do something physically. That’s why, in the odyssey, Athena tells him explicitly that he can do something about the suitors, and lays out a plan for him. She says that he is no longer a child to his face, and the Telemacheia thus begins to be a coming of age story in which he matures, and later is registered as a threat of the suitors. He is a young adult yes, and he still has aspects of his young self (idealization of his father, daydreaming, him being quick to frustration), but him being an adult who realizes that he can do something and can understand the way he is childish is important and central to his character arc.

His arc is him growing into his skin, adulthood no longer being something that fits him like loose clothes and only a description of his physical state, but something that now is tailored to him, something that feels close to right.

Honestly, I think this aspect of him being an adult while still holding onto these aspects of childishness is where Legendary and We’ll be fine falls short in adapting his character. I understand why, because while he is introduced he is not the true central character of the Saga- it’s Athena and how he affects her, that’s what’s most important. Also, once again, he was just introduced. He’s not matured yet, but he’s realizing he needs to. I still love the songs and the saga, because it’s a good adaptation that poses interesting questions, but yeah. Telemachus is v clearly a young adult and that hasn’t translated over sound yet, which I think is why this whole age debacle is happening alongside the uwu-ifying of the man.

TLDR: Telemachus is a young adult and he acts like it due to his blend of childishness and slowly gained maturity. You can draw him and see him as a child if you want, have fun with it, but at least internally understand how his 20 years of age plays into his arc a of him maturing into manhood outside of your own interpretation of him :D

#epic the musical #the odyssey #epic telemachus #telemachus #honestly this has been said before #I ain’t gonna yuck your yum #draw him how you want #but do it while understanding his character #fanon ideas and canon purpose can coexist

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ababanerb · 1 year ago

Text

lemongrass and sleep - izuku midoriya

she by dodie

warnings: cheating(sorta? not really), dubcon(only slight, both parties are willing, it’s just never explicitly stated), unprotected sex, smut, there’s no happy ending here, unedited

fair warning, this is my first time seriously writing smut (let alone publishing it) so... be nice

word count: 2,843

for y/n,

i love you. i’m sorry.

from izuku midoriya

Izuku wants you, he wants you so badly he’s not sure that he’s ever wanted anything else. But Ochako clings tightly to his bicep, and her fingers always dig a little harder into his skin every time you walk past them in the halls, but he never feels it because he wants you.

But then you’re gone, a small smile and an even smaller wave offered to the two of them as you disappear down the hall. Towards whatever after school club you’d decided to join that year. And Izuku is starstruck while Ochako stares at her shoes, wondering what made you so much better than her.

You don’t have a single clue that it’s your fault that Izuku and Ochako break up.

It’s not their fault, Izuku had told Ochako during the fight that led to the end of their relationship, I want them, Ochako. I need them like I need air.

But he wants you. Not her. And Izuku’s right, you can’t really help that.

But, why? Ochako had begged him for an answer, Why is she better than me?

Izuku lies and tells her he doesn’t know. But he knows. He could write a whole book on why. He doesn’t tell her about the day the two of you met in the middle of your last year of junior high.

The first time Izuku had met you had been by pure luck. You were new, and he’d been your tour guide. Your designated buddy for your first week, or until you’d made actual friends. Whichever came first.

But he liked you from the start. You - like all the rest of your classmates - were still growing into your body, and you were a little awkward and clumsy. But to Izuku, you had been nothing short of perfect.

You shook his hand when you met him, and your hands had been so soft, but he couldn’t really be surprised. And better yet, you laughed at all of his jokes, even the bad ones.

But when you sat next to him at lunch-

If he’d been falling in love with you before, he’d just plummeted.

You smelled like lemongrass and sleep, and that was when Izuku decided that he wanted to be in your hemisphere. And for the rest of middle school and the first two months of high school he was. But you belonged to a different program, and you spent all your free time in extracurriculars.

And Izuku had been upset at first, upset that high school had spun him out of your orbit, even though you’d asked him to hangout on more than one occasion. You were too good for him, Izuku had decided, and high school life had proven it.

Then Izuku fucked it all up when he started dating Ochako Uraraka during the summer after your first year in high school.

x x x

You want Izuku. You have since you met him. You’d wanted him even when he’d been gangly and awkward. Because to you, he’d never been awkward, it had always happened so naturally with him.

The last time you’d spoken to Izuku was almost a year ago. At a party. Ochako had been clinging to his arm even then, and you’d resigned to being out of Izuku’s orbit of interest.

You couldn’t be more wrong, but Izuku wouldn’t have ever been the one to tell you. Not when you’d had plenty of guys who were better than Izuku in every way wanting to date you.

But you wanted Izuku.

And he’d made it clear that he wanted you too, that night.

The kitchen at any party is always the hub or the quiet getaway. There’s never an in-between. This time though, the kitchen is the quietest you’ve ever seen. There’s music thumping in the living room and peals of laughter too. But you don’t care, because Izuku is standing right in front of you.

And for the first time in months, Ochako isn’t clinging to him like a life preserver.

“y/n,” Izuku breathes and his pupils are blown wide at the sight of you, you think it’s because the punch might be spiked, but he really does like you, “Hi.”

“Izuku,” You manage to breathe out and your pupils are blown just as wide as his, and Izuku thinks that the punch might be spiked, but you just really like him, “Hey.”

And you both manage a smile, because everything about this hurts and neither of you knows it.

“I like your shirt,” He says, pointing at the band tee you’d decided to wear, wondering if you remember that he was the one who introduced you to them.

“I wouldn’t have ever bought it if it weren’t for you.”

The words leave your mouth before you can even think about it, but you don’t regret it. Because the two of you fall into each other so easily, and neither of you notice when you start edging a little too close to ‘more than friends.’

You notice, finally, when you look into his eyes. Wide emerald green staring into you and the words fall from your lips before the thought even registered in your mind.

“Izuku,” You whisper, breath fanning across his face as he tries to hide the shiver that runs up his spine. Your hands are fisting the hem of his shirt, and Izuku wants to stare at you forever, “I like you.”

That’s all it takes for him to kiss you. It’s feverish, and you both treat like this is the first and last time the two of you get to be together like this.

His hands are big and warm, and they’re grasping at the swell of your ass and at the junction of your ribcage and your breast and every other bit of you he can get his hands on without pulling his lips away from yours. And he growls at the little whimpers that resonate from somewhere in your chest that you don’t even think about making.

It’s a mistake, it’s a huge mistake. You know you shouldn’t be doing this, that anybody could walk in and catch you making out with somebody else’s boyfriend.

And you pull away so fast it makes your head spin. Izuku watches your lip quiver and his heart hurts at the way tears have begun to gather on your bottom lashes as you quickly apologize and disappear through the kitchen’s entryway.

“Sorry,” he watches your kiss swollen lips makes the words, sees the first tear fall from your lashes and onto your cheek, but he doesn’t hear a single thing. Dread filling every inch of him as he watches you go.

He doesn’t like the way Ochako kisses him when she returns to his side, hair mussed and lips swollen with her makeup smudged messily across her face. He doesn’t tell her about you, even as she begins to tell him about how funny it was to see you crying as you’d left the party.

x x x

But time moves on, and you’re a really really good pretender. So good, in fact, that if it hadn’t happened, Izuku would think that he dreamt of you kissing him at that party nearly a year ago.

“Izu,” Ochako whines into his ear, her hand snaking down his torso knocking him from his daze of watching you dancing energetically with Kirishima and Kaminari. You look gorgeous in your graduation dress, and looking at you too long, with your skirt riding up just enough to catch a glimpse of your toned thighs send blood rushing straight to his crotch.

“Izu,” Ochako whines at him again, and he can smell alcohol on her breath, which isn’t surprising, considering how Mina spiked the punch. “Let’s go celebrate in your dorm?”

Oh, she wants to fuck, Izuku realizes, like it’s not something that she’d been getting from other guys when he’d said he wanted to wait until after he’d graduated.

The longer that Izuku stares at you, ultimately ignoring Ochako, the more he wants you, and maybe it’s the spiked punch starting to hit him, but he doesn’t even think about the words that tumble from his mouth.

“I think we should break-up.”

Ochako scoffs, and she pulls away from him just long enough for Izuku to get up from his chair and over to you. And he doesn’t care that Ochako is calling for him, or that you might have moved on. Because you look so pretty when you smile at him like that, mouth open with a laugh.

“Hey,” Izuku greets, and it sounds like he’s just been punched.

“Hey to you too,” You smile back at him, and he’s hit with the overwhelming smell of you.

Lemongrass and sleep.

Izuku doesn’t want to smell anything else ever again, he decides right then and there. It’s further affirmed when you step back into his orbit, and the smell of you is overwhelming.

“You look good,” Izuku manages after a moment, sounding a little less like he’s been punched, “Like, really good.”

You smile softly at him, stepping even closer to him, and grab at the open flaps of his graduation robe. The look in your eyes reminds him of the same look you’d given him at that stupid party that now feels like an eternity ago.

He wants to kiss you like he had then, but this time he wouldn’t be letting you walk off alone and with tears in your eyes. He wants to take you back to his near empty dorm room and fuck you until you see stars, and he wants to tell you that he might as well be in love with you, that he has been ever since he met you in junior high.

I want you all the time, always, Izuku thinks, already feeling breathless and he hasn’t even kissed you yet.

“Is that all you have to say?” You ask with a sultry undertone, and Izuku swears that all the blood in his brain has just rushed to his cock, “Because it looks like you’ve got more on your mind.”

Izuku nods so fast his head spins, “Can we talk? In- In my dorm?”

You nod once, slowly, and Izuku briefly wonders if you still like him.

x x x

Izuku barely has the time to breathe out, “I think I’m in love with you,” before you’re lips are on his. The taste of you is overwhelming on Izuku’s tongue, and he’s reminded of that brief moment last year when he’d kissed you. You taste like your lip balm, something herbal and earthy, just a little sweet and he’s addicted all over again.

He’s less hurried this time, even as you pull at the deep green curls at the base of his neck, he wants to savor you this time, make sure he isn’t dreaming this. He walks you to his bed, lips never leaving yours, and his hands crawl under your dress to grab at your ass as he lays you back.

“Love you,” He gasps against your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there and groaning when you roll your hips up into him, “Don’t know why I never told you.”

Coward, you want to tell him, but he pulls a soft moan from you instead when he sucks a hickey onto your collarbone.

“Fuck me,” You gasp, tugging at his graduation robes, the warm heat pooling in your belly and the wetness in your panties becoming too much for you to handle. “Please.”

Izuku needs no further prompting, and he’s shucking his clothes off of him as fast as he can. He watches you shimmy out of your dress just as he’s undoing his belt buckle, and he can’t stop himself from taking one of your nipples into his mouth when he realizes you didn’t have a bra on.

The sound that leaves you is entirely out of your control, a breathy noise halfway between a whimper and a moan. And you’re rolling your hips up into him more feverishly now as your hands come to tug on the thick curls of green on your chest.

Izuku is still only halfway out of his jeans when he moves his focus to your other nipple, his hands pulling your panties down your legs and a finger running through your wetness.

“So fucking pretty,” He growls at you, his pupils blown wide when he briefly detaches from your nipple to watch your face as he dips a finger into your aching cunt. You keen at the feeling, back arching off his bed, and he damn near blows his load right there. “Feel good?”

He’s stupid for asking, because you’re bucking your hips into his hand trying to get more stimulation. You nod anyway, voice failing you when he drops his mouth to suck at your clit.

“So good,” You moan, tears of pleasure in your eyes when he slides in a second finger and starts to pump his thick fingers in and out of you, “So- so fuckin’ good!”

He smiles into your sopping cunt, rolling his own hips into the mattress at the sound of you squelching around his fingers. HIs tongue laves over your clit again, sucking the sensitive bundle of nerves into his mouth even as you squeal in pleasure. He can feel you getting tighter around his fingers, and he doesn’t need to ask to know that you’re about to cum.

“That’s it, baby,” Izuku groans, watching as you squirm and writhe on the bed above him, gasps and moans leaving your mouth without thought, “Cum for me. Cum on my finger and in my mouth.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice, your whole body tensing with an orgasm that rips through you so fast and so hard it has your vision blacking out. He pulls his fingers out and before you can whine at the loss he’s already replaced them with his tongue, eating you out through your first orgasm of the night and right into your second.

Izuku pulls his pants and boxers off as you’re coming down from the high of second orgasm. The tip of his cock red and angry with arousal, and he swears his soul leaves his body when you wrap your fingers around the thick length of him to guide him back to your pussy.

“Fuck me,” You tell him again, face and chest still flushed with the heat of your last orgasm, “Please.”

Izuku is eager to please, sinking into your tight wet heat inch by aching inch. He has to drop his head to your shoulders and his hands have a death grip on your hips by the time he’s fully seated in you.

“So tight,” He hisses, biting at your neck again when your nails dig into his back and you roll your hips, urging him to move, “Feels so good.”

The two of you moan in sync when he finally begins to move. And a piece of Izuku whispers to him that he could have had you this whole time. That he might be able to have you from now on.

You bring Izuku’s lips crashing into yours and he sets a brutal pace, fucking into you with the same desperation he’d felt last year. Like this is it for the two of you. You return the sentiment, feverishly rolling your hips to meet his thrusts, kissing him so hard you know you’ll both be bruised tomorrow.

Your orgasm hits you suddenly, squeezing Izuku so tight he falls over the edge with you. You can feel him pumping you full of his cum, and the feeling alone has you cumming around him all over again.

As Izuku comes down from his high, rolling off of you and pulling you into him, and the exhaustion hits him like a pile of bricks he’s hit again by the smell of you.

“I’m so in love with you,” Izuku breathes, inhaling your scent like he won’t ever smell it again. “I’ve loved you since I met you.”

You hum against him, “I know what you mean.”

Izuku is too tired to realize you never returned the sentiment, and he falls asleep with a contented hum against your shoulder.

x x x

Izuku wakes up the next morning to a cold and empty bed, and he can still smell you. Lemongrass and sleep, he’s never met anybody else who smells like you.

Just like that, you’re out of his orbit again, Izuku realizes slowly. There’s no trace of you in his dorm room, no note, nothing. Just the lingering smell of you.

Izuku can feel his eyes stinging with tears and he wonders if he’s allowed to cry over a girl he never actually put in the effort with.

His phone dings with a text.

You: Sorry

He wonders if you’d snuck away with tears in your eyes again, and his own eyes blur with tears as the smell of you overwhelms again. The smell hurts him now, burning his nostrils with smell of lemongrass and sleep.

#izuku midoriya #izuku midoriya x reader #deku x reader #deku smut #izuku midoriya smut #izuku smut #izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #my hero academia #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bnha #bnha izuku #boku no hero academia

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