#young royals x maroon

[wilhelmsbee]

thats a real fucking legacy, to leave.

[pagesfromthevoid]

Cowboy Like Me | d.d.

Din Djarin x princess!reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: none

Author’s Note: Ahahahah fuck here we go again. Here’s to @bookxish and @ablondieproduction for helping me get this started and consequently probably ruining my life in the process :^)

Series Masterlist | Talk to Me!

The Princess

Karga slid a single puck across the table before he leaned back in the booth. “Client wants the quarry back alive.”

The Mandalorian didn’t reach for the puck. “Unless you have more, I’m not interested.”

“You will be when you hear how much they’re willing to pay,” Karga countered, a sly grin on his face. “Thirty thousand, with an extra five if you bring the quarry back before the end of the month.”

It was moments like this that the helmet was an excellent asset. The hunter’s brows had shot up in surprise, disbelief surely written in his features as he considered just how much that was —more than enough for fuel, for food and supplies. He couldn’t believe that one quarry was worth that much.

But the helmet hid the surprise just fine.

He took the puck, about to switch the hologram up but Karga stopped him.

“I’m gonna recommend you keep the details to yourself, Mando,” he warned, and for once, Mando considered listening. “She’s not missing because she’s a helpless damsel who got taken by an enemy. She’s missing because she wants to be missing. She’s been gone several days already. No one seems to be able to find her.”

Mando turned the hologram on, leaning back as the image of a young woman in Senate regalia faltered before him. The maroon color of her gown was accented by the gold chains that hung from her hands and ears —but what caught his attention were her eyes. He couldn’t tell the color; it didn’t matter. Her eyes were wide, cast to the side as if she was looking at something that surprised her. The rest of her face showed her emotions well, even if her body language was stiff. She was beautiful, in a frustrating way. A way that suggested she knew but didn’t want others to notice.

Another reason to appreciate the helmet —he noticed things that people didn’t want noticed. But they never knew.

He recognized the man behind her as the senator of Senex. Last Mando had heard, the senator had died. They had yet to find a replacement.

“Any idea why she doesn’t want to be found?” He asked, switching off the hologram and pocketing the puck. The whole thing felt ridiculous; searching for a missing princess like in a children’s story. But money was money.

Karga shook his head. “Rumors; whispers. But nothing I can confirm.”

“Helpful.”

“You want it or not?”

“I took the puck, didn’t I?”

Karga hummed, leaning back. “Good luck, Mando. I hear she’s a fighter.”

Behind his visor, Mando rolled his eyes.

Everyone was a fighter until they met the Mandalorian.

*****

She left him at the altar.

Oh, Maker. She left her fiancé at the altar.

No, no. She didn’t even make it to the altar. She didn’t even make it to the wedding.

What was she thinking? Was she thinking? Of course she was; she had to have been thinking because why else would she have left? Anyone in their right mind would have left too —no one truly wanted to marry someone old enough to be their grandfather. Not without a valid reason.

And her reason was far from valid.

Her reason wasn’t even hers. It was her mother’s.

But Maker —she left —what? Two? Three days ago? — without anything but the dress she wore, an empty backpack, and the credits she had been putting aside for years. No food, or water. No resources. Surely not a change of clothes, which she had to buy immediately. She had stuck out like a Wookiee among Ewoks. After several days of dancing around going home or staying missing, she finally decided she couldn’t go back. Not any time soon.

So, there she sat in a cantina, backpack tucked close to her side. The clothes she wore were far from royal. Instead of the decadent colors of gems, she wore a muted sort of brown tunic, with a scarf that covered her head and shoulders like a hood. She blended in well with the civilians around her, which was what she wanted.

Until she caught a glimpse of a Mandalorian across the room.

Looking at a hologram of her.

She nearly choked on her drink.

Maker help her —they’d put a bounty on her. And a Mandalorian was clearly in the middle of picking it up. If she left now, it would draw his attention. So she waited him out; kept her eyes down, breathing steady. If he left first, she would be fine.

*****

Back on the ship, Din sets the puck on the control panel and turns it back on. The kid sits in his crib, playing with the knob to shifter, but Din can’t bring himself to take it from him. It’s the only thing keeping the kid from crying, and he needs to focus on getting the coordinates for her last location.

The kid looks up at the hologram though, cooing at the image as he makes grabby hands for it.

“No,” Din commands, his voice soft but stern behind the modulator. Then he sighs with exasperation: her last known location was there, on Nevarro. He should have known better.

Sometimes he wondered if Karga liked omitting details. Just to be inconvenient.

The kid babbles but goes back to his ball as Din eyes the image of the young woman in the hologram. He catches every detail —the curve of her cheekbones, the angle of her nose, the fullness of her lips. Back to the length of her hair, where it’s pulled back to be out of her face but stray curls seem to escape.

But he can’t pinpoint her eyes. The color doesn’t capture in the hologram —not well at least. He’s good with details, but he can’t make this one out and it bothers him.

The kid reaches out again, babbling happily as he does so. Din gently pushes his hands away before standing up.

“Let’s go find a princess, kid.”

———

Taglist: OPEN

[ripempezardexerox]

Dices Merzbow, yo digo Justin Beiber

Dices Boredoms, yo digo Katy Perry

Dices Gerogerigegege, yo digo Skrillex

Dices Coil, yo digo Lady Gaga

Dices Throbbing Gristle, yo digo Black Eyed Peas

Dices Whitehouse, yo digo Taylor Swift

Dices Nurse With Wound, yo digo Bruno Mars

Dices Einstürzende Neubauten, yo digo Maroon 5

Dices Brainbombs, yo digo Drake

Dices Egor Letov, yo digo One Direction

Dices Death in June, yo digo LMFAO

Dices Current 93, yo digo Beyonce

Dices La Monte Young, yo digo Carly Rae Jepsen

Dices Moondog, yo digo Kelly Clarkson

Dices Lou Harrison, yo digo Coldplay

Dices Henry Cowell, yo digo PSY

Dices Luigi Russolo, yo digo Imagine Dragons

Dices Popol Vuh, yo digo Lana Del Ray

Dices Fishmans, yo digo Ellie Goulding

Dices Jean Jacques Perrey, yo digo P!nk

Dices Les Rallizes Dénudés, yo digo Owl City

Dices Rainbow Caroliner, yo digo Carrie Underwood

Dices Taj Mahal Travellers, yo digo Christina Aguilera

Dices Fushitsusha, yo digo Ariana Grande

Dices Peter Brötzmann, yo digo Rihanna

Dices John Cage, yo digo Jennifer Lopez

Dices Scott Walker, yo digo Ed Sheeran

Dices Unwound, yo digo Mumford & Sons

Dices Dead, yo digo Tyga

Dices Frank Zappa, yo digo Shakira

Dices Morton Feldman, yo digo Macklemore

Dices Captain Beefheart, yo digo Big Time Rush

Dices Pharoah Sanders, yo digo Akon

Dices Albert Ayler, yo digo Foster the People

Dices Ornette Coleman, yo digo The Weeknd

Dices Alice Coltrane, yo digo Panic! at the Disco

Dices Arnold Schoenberg, yo digo Florida Georgia Line

Dices Pierre Boulez, yo digo Big Sean

Dices György Ligeti, yo digo Gym Class Heroes

Dices Karlheinz Stockhausen, yo digo Miley Cyrus

Dices Nang Nang, yo digo The Lumineers

Dices Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, yo digo Jay-Z

Dices Nara Leão, yo digoCharlie Puth

Dices Basic Channel, yo digo Mac Miller

Dices Raymond Scott, yo digo Twenty One Pilots

Dices Delia Derbyshire, yo digo Harry Styles

Dices Daphne Oram, yo digo Charli XCX

Dices Noah Howard, yo digoBTS

Dices Terry Riley, yo digo Iggy Azalea

Dices Peter Sotos, yo digo John Legend

Dices Lula Côrtes e Zé Ramalho, yo digo OneRepublic

Dices Boyd Rice, yo digo Migos

Dices Mahmoud Ahmed, yo digo Logic

Dices Henry Flynt, yo digo Bastille

Dices Kazumoto Endo, yo digo Five Seconds of Summer

Dices David Tudor, yo digo Pentatonix

Dices Aporea, yo digo The Chainsmokers

Dices Half Japanese, yo digo Fall Out Boy

Dices Mega Banton, yo digo David Guetta

Dices Secret Chiefs 3, yo digo Greta Van Fleet

Dices Keiji Haino, yo digo Alicia Keys

Dices Ramleh, yo digo Kanye West

Dices Otomo Yoshihide, yo digo T-Pain

Dices John Zorn, yo digo Lizzo

Dices Joe Meek, yo digo WALK THE MOON

Dices Robbie Basho, yo digo Cardi B

Dices Phil Spector, yo digo EXO

Dices Faxed Head, yo digo Solange

Dices Harry Partch, yo digo Lil Nas X

Dices Wesley Willis, yo digo Disclosure

Dices Fred Frith, yo digo Sam Smith

Dices The Residents, yo digo Michael Buble

Dices Sun Ra, yo digo Paramore

Dices Sun City Girls, yo digo Linkin Park

Dices Hans Krüsi, yo digo Florence + The Machine

Dices Royal Trux, yo digo Rascal Flatts

Dices Jandek, yo digo Eminem

Dices Yat-Kha, yo digo Chance the Rapper

Dices Loren Mazzacane Connors, yo digo Mariah Carey

Dices Pärson Sound, yo digo Snoop Dogg

Dices The Dead C, yo digo Adele

Dices Comus, yo digo Shawn Mendes

Dices Cromagnon, yo digo Chris Brown

Dices Eliane Radigue, yo digo Camilla Cabello

Dices Arthur Doyle, yo digo Halsey

Dices Shizuka, yo digo The 1975

Dices The Red Krayola, yo digo Billie Eilish

Dices Henry Cow, yo digo A$AP Rocky

Dices Magma, yo digo Dua Lipa

Dices Opus Avantra, yo digo Kendrick Lamar

Dices Pan.Thy.Monium., yo digo Nicki Minaj

Dices Murmuüre, yo digo Madonna

Dices Ksiezyc, yo digo Britney Spears

Dices Gong, yo digo Post Malone

Dices Cukor Bila Smert', yo digo Jonas Brothers

Dices cLOUDDEAD, yo opino que te calles

Dices Muslimgauze, ¡¡ YO GRITO POP!!

Dices Kaoru Abe, y te parto la madre

El 92% de la juventud está escuchando Avant Garde Noise. Si eres parte de ese 8% que aun escucha música de verdad, comparte este post a tus contactos de facebook.

¡¡¡¡ No dejes que el espíritu del POP muera !!!!

[the-chronicles-of-a-bookworm]

ship your moots with a random character?

this is messy but thanks sm for the ask 💖! i've matched y'all up so randomly with people i think you vibe with istg. i dunno if you even know these people

@vespersposts - draken/ryuguji ken (i dunno. i can see y'all playing with penny and modi and having deep conversation)

@asunflowerana - howl (you and him would braid flowers in eachothers hair and play in his garden)

@so-scarlet-it-was-maroon (you dont even watch anime but im still matching you up, like the little nuisance i am) - kise ryota (i have this feeling deep down in my little heart that you and him watch young royals together.)

@that-was-a-bit-stupid-of-you (another person im annoying with my little anime matchups) - meguru bachira (you don't self ship, but, BUT, you and meguru would love watching Wednesday together. meguru definitely says "yeah, you go girl" when enid hugs wednesday.)

@shoyoist - kai chisaki???? (cause like yyou vibe with him for some reason? i can see him going on night drives with you? i dunno)

@bluememento - miya osamu??? (i think y'all would enjoy watching knb together. he seems like someone who watches sports anime istg.)

@lamnwar - denki kaminari (you're like the idiot x smart trope? like ur the smart half of the relationship. you would be like laughing at his stupid antics and making sure he doesn't get hurt or smth?)

@ceriphina - bakugo katsuki (ur so cute and bakugo would love you sm. its vibes. the vibes i get are what determines who i match you up with)

@shakethatsassyass - Sebastian Michaelis (he gives me akashi vibes. and i would match you up with anyone that's kindaaa like akashi? you would slow dance with him in your living room. i have a vision)

ok yeah im done. my matchups were based purely off vibes. so dont mind the most random characters i've given you.

[runnning-outof-time]

I was trying to think of the best way to do this because I don’t have Spotify (please don’t roast me), so I couldn’t just post a playlist.

So down below I’ve listed the songs that I have on my ‘Peaky playlist’ aka songs that remind me of Tommy/Peaky Blinders and help me get into writing.

Disclaimer: I started this playlist when I started writing To Be Alone, so a lot of the songs will probably be reminiscent of that story, but I’ve found it helpful/fitting as I continued to keep writing for Peaky. Also the songs are in no particular order...I just copied my playlist from how I added them

State Lines - Novo Amor

I Am A Poor Wayfaring Stranger - Jos Slovick

How to Win - The Native Sibling

To Be Alone - Hozier

March of Flames - Erick Serna and The Killing Floor

All My Tears - Ane Brun

Dipped In Bleach - Liam St. John

Grandfather Collar - Liam St. John (HUGE Tommy vibes)

Climbing up the Walls - Radiohead

Work Song - Hozier

False God - Ryan Hurd

Anything You Want - Bishop Gunn

Devil Is a Woman - Bishop Gunn

Silver Street - Bishop Gunn

Makin’ It - Bishop Gunn

Is This Desire? - PJ Harvey

Red Right Hand - Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds (duh)

Woman at the Well - Israel Nash

Just Like Water - Israel Nash

Rain Plans - Israel Nash

Harder to Breathe - Maroon 5

Shiver - Maroon 5

Secret - Maroon 5

Ticking Bomb - Aloe Blacc

Shackles & Chains - Benjamin Josif & Rupert Pope

River Run - Benjamin Josif & Rupert Pope

Colors - Black Pumas

Come to Your Senses - Alexandria Shipp & Vanessa Hudgens

To Build a Home - The Cinematic Orchestra

Put Me in the Ground - Daniel Nunnelee

Rear View - Rafael Casal

No Feels - Rafael Casal & Daveed Diggs

Shivers - Ed Sheeran

Afterglow - Ed Sheeran

Make It Rain - Ed Sheeran

I’m a Mess - Ed Sheeran

Bloodstream - Ed Sheeran

I See Fire - Ed Sheeran

Kiss Me - Ed Sheeran

This - Ed Sheeran

Give Me Love - Ed Sheeran

Stardust Chords - Greta Van Fleet

Broken Bells - Greta Van Fleet

Woman - Harry Styles

No Plan - Hozier

Take Me to Church - Hozier

My Fair Lady - KALEO

Free the Slave - KALEO

Brother Run Fast - KALEO

Backbone - KALEO

Into My Mother’s Arms - KALEO

Way Down We Go - KALEO

Broken Bones - KALEO

Save Yourself - KALEO

I Can’t Go On Without You - KALEO

All the Pretty Girls - KALEO

Heaven Loves a Fire - LAOUD

FOR YOUR LOVE - Måneskin

VENT’ANNI - Måneskin

Bridges Burn - NEEDTOBREATHE

Brother - Kodaline

High Hopes - Kodaline

The Beach - The Neighbourhood

Prey - The Neighbourhood

Single - The Neighbourhood

Afraid - The Neighbourhood

Quicksand - Rafael Casal

Between Heaven & Hell - Rob Saffi

Copy Comic - Robert Francis

Please - Sawyer Fredericks

Crossfire - Stephen

Remembering Myself - Stephen

The War - SYML

Lady May - Tyler Childers

All Your’n - Tyler Childers

Nose on the Grindstone - Tyler Childers

Mountain Hymn - Rhiannon Giddens

Unshaken - D’Angelo

Crash of Worlds - Rocco DeLuca

Something in the Water - Daveed Diggs

The Devil Inside - Daniel Murphy, Anthony Sanudo & Eric Serna

I Know You - Skylar Grey

I Need You - M83

Young and Beautiful - Lana Del Ray

Wicked Games - The Weeknd

Unsteady - X Ambassadors

Intro - The xx

casual sabotage - YUNGBLUD

love song - YUNGBLUD

11 Minutes - YUNGBLUD

Lonely Heart - 5 Seconds of Summer

Lover of Mine - 5 Seconds of Summer

Easier (Live From The Vault) - 5 Seconds of Summer

Lie to Me (Acoustic) - 5 Seconds of Summer

Teeth (Live From The Vault) - 5 Seconds of Summer

No Shame (Live From The Vault) - 5 Seconds of Summer

All Along the Watchtower - Billy Valentine & The Forest Rangers

House of the Rising Sun - The White Buffalo

Your Hand In Mine - Explosions In the Sky

Toxic - Liam St. John

Ozark - Liam St. John

Eleanor Thornton - Liam St. John

Sleeping on the Blacktop - Colter Wall

Outlaw - Morgan Wallen

Cover Me Up - Morgan Wallen

Alabama - Bishop Gunn

Pyramid Song - Radiohead

Love Is Blindness - Jack White

Come On Over - Royal Blood

Do I Wanna Know? - Arctic Monkeys

To Bring You My Love - PJ Harvey

Therefore I Am - Billie Eilish

when the party’s over - Billie Eilish

bury a friend - Billie Eilish

bellyache - Billie Eilish

Catherine - PJ Harvey

Breathless - Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds

Bring It On - Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds

Abattoir Blues - Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds

Sex, Drugs, Etc. - Beach Weather

Rexanimarum - Israel Nash

Catch the Sun - Doves

Seven Day Mile - The Frames

You and Whose Army - Radiohead

1979 - The Smashing Pumpkins

Arabella - Arctic Monkeys

The Meetings of the Waters - Fionn Regan

I Might Be Wrong - Radiohead

Stone - Whiskey Myers

Frogman - Whiskey Myers

COMPLETE MESS - 5 Seconds of Summer

Can’t You See - The Marshall Tucker Band

War Pigs - Black Sabbath

Ballad of a Thin Man - Richard Hawley

Turning Page - Sleeping At Last

A Hard Rain’s a-Gonna Fall - Laura Marling

Forefathers - Liam St. John

Bury My Bones - Whiskey Myers

Reckoning - Whiskey Myers

Song of a Dead Man - Taylor John Williams

Blue Veins - The Raconteurs

Into It - Chase Atlantic

When Under Ether - PJ Harvey

Go It Alone - Beck

What He Wrote - Laura Marling

Held On Too Long - Hueston

Unmade - Thom Yorke

Pana-Vision - The Smile

Nothing Personal - Des Rocs

Skinny - KALEO

I Want More (Live at Skalholt) - KALEO

I’m Here - Celeste

Top Yourself - The Raconteurs

Naked - FINNEAS

Ain’t Nobody - Bones Owens

Burning House - Cam

Bad Man - Dustin Douglas & the Electric Gentlemen

Heavy - The Glorious Sons

Too Bad - Rival Sons

Sacred Tongue - Rival Sons

I Will Destroy the Void in You - The Glorious Sons

Where I’ve Been - Rival Sons

There’s already a lot, but I’m sure I’ll be adding more. Let me know what you think of the selections I made, or if you have any other suggestions — I always enjoy talking music!

You’re amazing if you made it down to the bottom here. ☺️💕

@look-at-the-soul & @holacia2 thanks for asking me to share — I hope you find some good songs amongst this list!

[angelasscribbles]

Savage Love Chapter 7: New York Redux

Series: Savage Love

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Riley x Liam, Riley x Drake

Rating: NSFW

Warnings: LEMONS 🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋

Word count: 5298 it's long sorry/not sorry

My other stuff: Master List.

I spent the morning going over the case with Jared then at the boutique to try on the dress and make sure the alterations had been done correctly. I stashed the dress in my room, ate the lunch I had sent up then got ready to meet Liam.

I decided on short, double layered red skirt paired with a casual scoop neck white t-shirt because it was cute and stylish, but I could wear athletic trainers with them to make hiking around the grounds comfortable. It also showed off my legs. I threw my phone and room key into a small black cross body bag and headed toward the gazebo for the tour of the grounds Liam had promised me.

He was already there. He was learning casually against the outside of the gazebo, looking down at his phone. He was dressed in a pair of khaki pants and a deep maroon button down shirt, with the sleeves cuffed up. The clothes were casual enough to seem like he wasn’t trying, but the crisp lines told me these clothes were freshly pressed, which meant he had taken the time to change.

He looked up as I approached and broke out in a grin that made my breath catch a little. It really ought to be a crime to look that good.

“Riley!” He put his phone away and pushed away from the gazebo wall so he could take both my hands in his and give me a quick kiss on each cheek.

“Liam. Thank you so much for volunteering to be my tour guide again today.”

“I can assure you that there is nothing in the world I would rather be doing.” From the way he was looking at me, I was pretty sure he meant it.

“Great! We better get started; this place is what? About thirty-two acres?”

“Thirty-two point three acres if you want to be exact.” He smiled at me as he offered his arm. I took it and we started walking.

“I like to be exact!”

“I thought we’d start with the royal gardens since they take up most of the estate. You crossed the back lawn to get here and I’m sure you’ve seen the fountain out front. There’s also a wooded area, sort of a nature preserve, near the back and of course, the hedge maze.”

“Of course, the hedge maze, you say as if everyone has one. I can’t wait to see it!” I grinned up at him.

He smiled down at me, “And you will, but the gardens first.”

We strolled through the gardens and Liam told me about each part, the flowers and topiary that were there and the history behind them all. Just for extra measure, I asked about exits and entrances to the grounds, other than the main gate. Just in case.

It took a couple of hours to get through all the garden paths. We even strolled through the wooded area and Liam pointed out the caretakers shed. Something that normally wouldn’t get mentioned in a tour. But he seemed to know I wanted all the details. He was catching on to how my mind worked.

The hedge maze was last.

“And you’re telling me that you know your way around this thing?” I asked him skeptically.

“Absolutely. When we were kids, we use to play maze tag in here.”

“Maze tag?”

“Yeah, the goal was to get to the center without getting tagged.”

“I’ll bet that was fun.”

“It was.” He said, a little wistfully, “Sometimes I miss those carefree days.”

“How hard is it to find the center?” I had a pretty good memory, but I had a feeling that the lay out of the maze was going to be a challenge.

“For those of us that grew up here, not that hard.”

“So that would be you, Leo, Drake and Drake’s sister Savannah?”

“Yes, and Liv.”

“Liv?”

“Yes, Lady Olivia. Her parents died when she was quite young, and she came here to live.”

Right. I had read that in her file. She was on the suspect list because of her parents and her aunt, but it was flimsy. She had been a preschooler when her parents died and had barely seen her aunt since. If I could rule her out, I could focus on more promising suspects.

“So, tell me about Olivia.” I prompted.

“Well, she grew up here with us for the most part. She’s got a prickly exterior, like a cactus, but she’s got a good heart. She genuinely cares about the people under her care. The people of Lythikos love her.”

“And Leo?”

He gave me a sidelong glance, “Who told you?”

“I’m just observant?” I didn’t want to throw Drake under the bus.

Liam’s head tipped back as he laughed, “I appreciate you not wanting to reveal your source, but it had to be Drake.”

I just smiled without answering.

“Never reveal your sources, got it. Yes, Leo and Liv were best friends growing up, then he went away for a while and when he came back, well, they bonded on a different level.” He stopped and gave me a serious look, “Why are you so interested in Liv? You don’t think she-“

“I don’t know, Liam. I can’t rule anyone out, but I’d like to. That’s why I’m asking.”

He nodded in understanding. “I don’t think Liv would ever betray the crown. She’s practically family. And she’s a good person, despite the tough exterior that she likes to project to the world. Plus, she’s crazy about my brother.”

I filed that away. Liam’s opinion did mean something, but often those closest to the perpetrator never saw it coming so there’s that.

“So do you think he’s going to pick her?”

Liam considered the question seriously. “I…don’t know. I think he wants to.”

“So then why wouldn’t he?”

“It’s not just his choice. The council has to approve, so does our father. Many people don’t think she’s…uh, fit to rule.”

“Why not? She’s a duchess from one of Cordonia’s oldest and most respected families. Even in Monterisso, the Nevrakis name commands respect.”

He nodded as he rubbed his bottom lip, “Yes, but I assume you know about her parents?”

I confirmed that I did.

“Right, so there’s that and she can be a bit volatile and, as I said, prickly. Not the best in situations that require a gentle, diplomatic touch.”

“Ah, I see. She’s not duplicitous and two faced enough. She shows her real emotions.”

He barked out a surprised laugh, “I mean….I wouldn’t have put it like that but….yeah.”

“Good to know.” That trait should make her easy to read.

We walked the maze several times as I tried to get the layout memorized. Finally, I decided that I had it, so I stopped walking and turned to Liam and said, “Hey Liam.”

He stopped walking and turned to face me, “Yes?”

I slapped him on the chest and yelled, “Tag, you’re it!” and took off at a dead run for what I was pretty sure was the center of the maze. I almost made it too, but he had home field advantage.

The center of the maze was in sight when he caught me. He reached for me, but I can dodge and weave with the best of them. On the second try, his arms found me. I tried to leap up and out of his reach but instead I tripped, and we went tumbling to the ground together.

We landed, breathless and laughing, tangled up around each other. Liam was on top, looking down at me. I can’t say that I was sad about it.

“Are you ok?” He asked.

“I’m fine.” I laughed, “That was a damn good tackle!”

He laughed in response then his gaze grew more serious.

“What?” I asked him. We should probably have gotten up, but I was enjoying the feel of his body on top of mine.

“This feels very familiar.” He said.

My mind drifted back to our night in New York, and I repeated the same line I had used when he tackled me then, “Well you caught me, what are you going to do about it, huh?”

His pupils dilated in response to the memory. Because everything that had come after that was straight fire. He leaned down and captured my lips in his, it was tender at first but quickly built in intensity, becoming deeper, harder, more urgent. Well, I suppose there was about five months of worth of longing and frustration in there since by all accounts he had spent that time focused on trying to find me again.

His mouth moved from mine to trail hot kisses up along my jawline, down my neck to my shoulder and lower. He gently kissed the skin that was showing above the neckline of my t-shirt as one hand went up to cup my breast. I sank my hands into his hair, it was as lush and thick as I remembered. I arched my body up into his, earning a low moan from him.

He brought his head back up to stare into my eyes with his tortured ones, “Fuck, Riley, you have no idea what you do to me. You’re like fire in my veins and I don’t know how to get you out, or if I even want to.”

“I might have an inkling.” I informed him, “But we really shouldn’t be doing this out here, anyone could come around the corner and catch us, then my cover is blown.”

“Right.” He said with a fair amount of regret as he stood up then reached back to offer me his hand. I took it and pulled myself upright.

“You know it’s almost dinner time.” I told him by way of changing the subject.

“Will you be attending the formal dinner with the other suitors then?” He asked.

“No.”

“No? Why not?”

“Well, yesterday’s dinner was informal and only some of the suitors were here. I was able to fly under the radar. Today, everyone is here, and a formal dinner ensures everyone knowing who I am. I want my introduction at the ball to make a splash and to do that, I need the element of surprise.”

“But you have to eat.” He objected.

“I’ll have dinner sent up to my room.” I told him.

A grin spread across his face, “I have a better idea.”

“What?”

“Have dinner with me.” He pulled me into his arms and started dropping kisses all along my neck while I giggled and pushed him away.

“But we can’t be seen-“

“Privately. In my quarters.” He was dead serious. He had stopped trying to kiss me but held both my hands firmly in his as he watched my face, waiting for an answer.

I shook my head, “I can’t be seen going-“

“You won’t.” He assured me. “I’ll have our route cleared so no one sees you. I can do that, I’m a prince.”

He kept making me laugh, “Abusing your power huh?” I teased.

“To get some alone time with you? Hell yeah. And I’d do it again, too. So, is that a yes?” He pulled out his phone and waited for my answer. He looked so goddamned hopeful. I’m pretty sure he was holding his breath.

I mean, I really didn’t need to anything else before the ball other than eat and get ready. So why the hell not? I nodded, “Ok.”

“Yes!” He exclaimed as he sent off a quick text, “There’s a side entrance that’s never used by the public. I think we can make it back across the lawn and gardens without drawing too much notice. Once we’re inside, our route will be cleared.”

“Ok, but don’t walk too close to me just in case. And we’ll go inside a few minutes apart, just to be sure.” No one even knew who I was yet, and the grounds were pretty deserted, everyone was inside getting ready for dinner, so I wasn’t overly worried about being spotted by anyone. And if we were? I got lost and a stray prince happened to find me and offered to show me the way back to the palace. Innocent.

“Whatever you want, you’re the boss.” He gave me a mock salute.

“Damn straight!” I told him.

We made it to the entrance with no issues and true to his word, we encountered no one as he led me through the palace to his rooms.

He pulled out his phone as we entered the sitting room in his private suite. “I’ll call down to the kitchen and-“

“Liam.”

He turned around to face me, “What?”

I stepped into him and reached up, taking the phone out of his hand and tossing it into a nearby chair. “Dinner can wait.”

“But aren’t you hungry?” Oh, you sweet, summer child, I thought to myself. It really was cute how clueless he could be sometimes.

I gave him a seductive smile as I gathered two handfuls of his shirt into my fists and tugged him closer, “Ravenous.”

“Oh!” His eyes widened as understanding dawned on him.

I locked eyes with him, pulled my t-shirt over my head and flung it to the side. I put a finger in my mouth, sucked on the tip then drew it out to run it tantalizingly down my chin, neck and chest to the valley between my breasts. As he watched me, mouth agape, I slid my hand over to rub across my own breast. I dropped my voice to a low and sultry rasp as I told him, “I’m going to need you to remove some of those clothes before I start without you.”

“Oh shit.” He breathed softly then blinked and sprang into action. I have literally never seen a man remove a shirt that quickly.

“Liam, wait!”

He froze, hands at his belt buckle. “What?”

“Nothing, I just wanted to admire the view for a moment.” I ran my eyes up all over him, taking in the chiseled chest, the washboard abs, the muscular arms. I mean damn. “Ok, continue.”

He lifted a leg to remove a shoe and I smirked as I told him, “Don’t fall over this time.”

He pulled off both shoes along with the socks then placed both feet firmly on the ground. “I’m not drunk this time.”

“I guess that’s a plus.” I told him as I moved closer so I could help him with the pants. I pushed his hands out of the way so I could unbutton them myself then I slid the zipper down while I held eye contact. I hooked my fingers in the waistband and pushed them down. My tongue darted out to lick my lips.

His eyes closed as a sigh escaped him, then he was kicking out his pants and boxer shorts and wrapping his arms around my waist. He pulled my body flush against his and his hands and mouth started trailing everywhere. He managed to unfasten and pull my bra off then he was sucking a nipple into his mouth to tease at it as his tongue circled and caressed it. His hands slid down my body then ghosted up my thighs and around to squeeze my ass.

I let my head fall back as my body arched into him. “Oh god, yes, keep doing all that.” I told him.

I felt things low in my body coil and tighten as I ground myself into him. He moaned loudly in response. His fingers rubbed against the thin fabric of my panties, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through me. He slipped a finger around the fabric and inside me. I dug my nails into his shoulders in response.

“Maybe you should lose the rest of your clothes too.” He whispered as he unzipped my skirt. It fell to the floor, pooling around my feet. I slid my panties down my body and stepped out of them, the skirt and my shoes as I ran my tongue along the shell of his ear, “Now what?”

“Maybe we should take this to the bedroom.” He murmured as his hands tangled in my hair.

I wrapped my arms and legs around him and brought my mouth to his. He circled his arms around me and carried me into the bedroom without breaking the kiss. We dropped onto the bed together, still coiled around each other.

“I want to taste you so bad.” he groaned into my ear.

“I’m not stopping you.” I whispered back.

“I’ve been dreaming about this for months.” His voice vibrated against my skin as his lips continued to move across my body.

I sank my hands into his hair as his body slid down mine until he was positioned between my legs. My legs fell open to give him access. His tongue, rough and warm, glided through my folds, up and down, sending surges of pleasure through my body with every stroke. His hands gripped the insides of my thighs as he buried his face between them, lapping at my center. My hips lifted off the bed, pushing against the hot wetness of his mouth. I moved my hips in synch with him as I tugged at his hair, pulling him closer.

His tongue found my throbbing, slick pebble and flicked against it harder and faster. My body quivered under his touch. I twisted and squirmed and bucked my hips up again and again as his tongue glided and danced at my core. Then his entire mouth came down to envelope me as he pulled, sucked and tugged while continuing to swirl his tongue over and around my sweet spot.

My fingers tightened in his hair, and I screamed out my pleasure as waves of ecstasy burst over me and currents of electricity coursed through my body. He continued to lick me, easing off little by little as he worked me through the orgasm.

“Fuck, you’re insanely good with your tongue!” I told him.

“Glad you think so.” He grinned at me as he climbed back up my body, “You taste amazing, even better than I imagined.”

“I need more.” I told him as I wrapped my legs around him and flipped us over, so I was on top. I lowered myself onto him, and started sliding myself up and down his cock. My clit was still throbbing, I rocked back and forth on top of him, rubbing it against his pelvis until stars swam in front of my eyes again. “Fuck!” I breathed out.

“Riley!” Liam’s hands grasped my hips and moved me up and down as he thrust up into me.

I pulled myself up then paused before lowering myself halfway back down, then slowly slid myself up and paused again. His fingers dug into my hips deeper as he strained up toward me, “Fuck, Riley, please…”

“Be still, Liam, no moving, no touching.” I ordered and he complied, but with visible effort. His hands dropped from my hips to dig at the mattress and tangle fistfuls of sheet in them. His head pushed back into the bed as tortured gasps and moans spilled out of him. I leaned forward and brought my mouth to his ear to whisper provocatively, “That’s a good boy. Just like that. Wait for it.”

I moved almost imperceptibly on top of him, slowly pushing him closer and closer to the edge without allowing him the release he so desperately needed. I moved deliberately, bringing him right to the edge then easing him back, over and over again until his entire body was trembling beneath me.

When his breath was coming in short, ragged gasps and his body was covered in sweat, I purred, “You’ve been a very good boy. You can move now. Touch me, Liam.”

His hands flew to my breasts then down to my hips as I started to ride him harder and faster, taking him all the way in on the down thrust. He pushed up into me again and again as I slammed myself down onto him, nails scraping across his chest. I pinched at a nipple, and he exploded inside me with a guttural cry. With the sensation of his dick pulsing inside me, I rocked against him and felt myself fall apart again.

I collapsed on top him then rolled off him to cuddle at his side. His arms held me there tightly as his breathing returned to normal.

“Jesus fucking christ, Riley. I didn’t think it was possible for it to be better than it was in New York, but you just proved me wrong.”

“You weren’t bad yourself.” I drew a line down his neck with my tongue then closed my lips over the spot and sucked at it. I was rewarded with a shiver. When I drew away, I told him, “You can order food now.”

I went to the bathroom to clean up while he ordered dinner. When I got back, he pulled me back into the bed and spread kisses all over me. I’m not kidding, he kissed my head, my shoulders, my back, my legs, this man kissed the inside of the bend of my knee. It tickled, but I liked it.

“Liam, we have to get dressed! Dinner will be here soon.” I scolded him gently.

He heaved a long-suffering sigh and pouted, “Do we have to get dressed?”

Goddamned if that pout wasn’t just about the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. How? It was a pout!

“Oh, you are extremely tempting, but yes, we have to.” I shook my head. He was being silly but in an endearing kind of way.

“Fine.” His shoulders slumped in a purposely exaggerated display of disappointment. His face lit up when I laughed.

I shook my head and told him to get up and help me find my clothes. We retraced our steps picking up items of clothing until we were both fully dressed again. By then, dinner had arrived. We chatted and laughed as we ate, he was surprisingly easy to talk to. But all good things must come to an end eventually and I had a ball to get ready for.

“Ok.” I told him as I stood, “Time for me to go.”

He was instantly on his feet as well, “I’ll walk you back.”

“Ok.” I agreed, as I made my way across the room to the door. “But you guys should really give me a code or a key card or something so that I can get in and out of all the secret passageways.”

“I’ll talk to Leo.” He told me as he pulled me into his arms again. He brushed his lips across mine then dipped his head to nip and suck at my neck.

I shivered at the sensation, but I still pushed him away, “No, really, I have to go get ready for the ball.”

“Let’s be late.” He breathed into my ear, earning another shiver from me.

“You know I can’t do that; I have a whole entrance to make, spies to catch, a court to fool into thinking Leo and I are a thing.”

“That last thing is my least favorite part.” He told me as he nipped at an earlobe.

“Liam, stop.” I giggled as I pulled the door open and turned to give him a playful push.

He reached for me as I stepped backwards into the hallway and bumped right into someone. A pair of strong arms reached out to keep me from falling and I spun around to look up into Drake’s face. “Brooks! What are you-“ The words died on his lips as his eyes went behind me. He let go of me and took a step back.

Liam stumbled into me and brought his head down to bite at the soft flesh of my neck, before noticing that we weren’t alone. He pulled back quickly, and his head spun around to take in Drake and Leo standing in the hallway outside his room.

Leo was looking back and forth between us in confusion, “What’s going on here? Agent Brooks? I thought-“ his eyes went to Drake then back to Liam then to me again.

Liam shifted nervously from one foot to the other. “Oh, ah…remember me telling you about the woman I met in New York? Brooklyn?”

“Yeah,” Leo snorted, “You haven’t shut up about it since.”

I stifled a giggle. Damn, I guess I really did make an impression.

“Well, this is her. Riley is Brooklyn.”

“What?” Leo blinked then his face cleared, “Oh! I get it! Mystery woman who wouldn’t tell you her real name or where she lived turns out to be a spy, that…that actually tracks bro! But wait….” He looked back to Drake again then an amused grin broke out, “So…. You both….”

No one had to answer, he could read it on their faces. Drake’s jaw was tight as he tried not to betray any emotion and Liam was blushing furiously as he studiously surveyed the floor.

Leo threw his head back and laughed uproariously, “This is the greatest thing that’s ever happened!”

“Fuck you Rys.” Drake said.

“Oh, come on Walker! You have to admit-“

“Shut the fuck up, Leo.” He snapped.

Leo turned to me, “You have no idea how competitive these two are. When we were kids, they competed over everything! Including girls until, what was her name? The one whose parents had to get involved?”

“What?” I laughed, “I need to hear this story!”

“You really don’t!” Liam looked alarmed.

“No, you do not!” Drake blurted out at the same time.

“Good to see you two agreeing on something.” I turned back to Leo, “Spill!”

“The rivalry just got ridiculous. Liam hired a skywriter, a goddamn skywriter! And Drake-“ Leo had to catch his breath and get his laughter under control before continuing, “Drake released an entire heard of goats in her house!”

“What?” I turned to Drake in astonishment.

“She liked goats! She told me she thought they were cute, and she always wanted one!” He said in his defense.

Leo kept going, “Her parents were not amused! Neither was Constantine when Drake painted her name on the top of one of the old guard towers! I still don’t know how the hell he even got up there!”

Drake snorted, “At least I didn’t try to serenade her at three o’clock in the fucking morning.”

Liam’s head shot up, “Hey! I was fourteen!”

“Her father chased him off their property with a saber!” Tears were running down Leo’s face.

“Oh my god! This is gold! So, what happened?” I asked.

“Her parents threatened to file restraining orders against both of them and she ended up dating fucking Maxwell Beaumont for six months!”

“And we got grounded, for like, forever!” Liam supplied.

“I had to clean that paint off the tower and that was a lot harder than putting it up there had been.” Drake grumbled, then he looked at Liam and asked, “Remember when you ate that ghost pepper because I dared you to in front of her?”

Liam blanched a little, “It took me three days to recover from that! But you ate like a pound of margarine to impress her, so I’d say we’re even.”

I blinked, “What?”

Drake shrugged, “She said no one could eat an entire container of margarine with a spoon. So I did.”

“And you thought that would impress her, why?”

He shook his head, “I….have no idea….I was a stupid teenage boy.”

“As opposed to now,” Leo slapped him on the back, “when you’re a stupid teenage like man child.”

“The point is,” Drake turned to Liam, “After that, we agreed that we’d never let a girl come between us again.”

“We were fourteen.” Liam reminded him, “This is different.”

“Of course, it is! But I thought we agreed-“

“I agreed to nothing.”

“But we discussed-“

“Yes, and I heard everything you said. But I never agreed to anything.”

Drake pressed his lips into a tight line and nodded. “You did that on purpose.”

“Did what?” Liam asked with feigned innocence. Ohhhh, he used underhanded tactics to try and keep Drake away from me? I was impressed. All’s fair in love and war, and all that.

“Made me think that- you know what? Never mind. We’re on the same page now.” Drake crossed his arms in front of his chest and gave Liam a steady look.

Liam’s smile faltered a little at that declaration as his eyes darted from Drake to me then back again.

Leo was laughing again.

I shook my head. I didn’t have time for a pissing contest. “Ok boys, as fun as this has been, I have a ball to get ready for. Ta!”

“Wait! I was going to walk you back to your room, remember?” Liam headed my direction, but Leo pulled him back.

“Your presence has been requested, no, ordered, by our father. He and Regina would like final approval on our attire for the evening and the royal tailors are already set up in the formal sitting room at the end of the hallway.”

“Yeah, that’s why we were outside your room, Li. We were sent to retrieve you, since you were ignoring your calls.” Drake’s eyes flicked to me then he gave Liam a smug smile and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she makes it back to her room safely.”

Liam’s face fell, “But-“

“It’s fine, Liam.” I stepped forward, placed my hands on his chest and brushed my lips across his cheek, “I’ll see you at the ball in an hour. I promise to save a dance for you.”

Leo began to pull Liam down the hallway. He was still looking back at me when Drake circled an arm around my waist then used the other one to gesture down the hallway in the opposite direction, “Shall we?”

Once again, Drake and I made the trek through the secret passageways back to my room. “I think I can find my own way at this point.” I told him as we arrived at the panel that opened into my room.

“Maybe I just wanted an excuse to spend a few minutes with you.”

“Do you need an excuse?” I asked him.

“I don’t know. Do I?” He gave me that searching look again. I still didn’t know what, exactly, he was looking for.

“You do not. I already told you, I like you.”

“But you also wanted to slow things down.”

“As long as you understand that none of this is leading to a relationship and that I’ll be out of here in a few months, then we’re good. Nothing wrong with having fun while I’m here.” I told him.

His eyes ran across my face for a moment then he stepped back and folded his arms across his chest. “I’d like to apologize for last night. I thought that- I mean I was-“ He sighed as he raked a hand through his hair, “hell, it doesn’t matter. I was an idiot and I’d like to make it up to you.”

I cocked my head to the side in curiosity, “How?”

“I have an idea.” He gave me a cryptic smile, “I know you have work to do, but there’s not another official event for several days until the Derby, so if you could spare a few hours tomorrow afternoon, I have something in mind that I think you’ll like.”

I raised my eyebrows, “What?”

“Oh, you’ll have to come with me to find out.” He smirked at me, “I’ll come to your room after lunch tomorrow, if that’s ok.”

“Looking forward to it, Captain.” I told him as I slipped into my room and closed the panel.

[reidyoulikeabook]

48 from touch prompt list and 75 from prompt list 5 🥺🥺🥺 im so proud of you love such an amazing achievement i love you

-efirstly i love you thank you so much 🥺 secondly the PERFECT two prompts together you have a galaxy brain and i can truly not thank you enough for this!!

Ship: Fem! Reader x Spencer Reid

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: Some mentions of alcohol consumption & brief olden-time being married young talk.

Prompts: #48 - Dancing with each other & #75 Talking in an Elizabethan style to woo somebody

A/N: I listened to the ‘So Close’ song from the Enchanted soundtrack the entire time I was writing this so...put that on if you want!

A reminder I’m taking prompts for my 1k celebration until May 21st! :)

If Penelope Garcia loved two things in this world - Derek and science fiction aside - it was costumes and parties. So it made sense that for her birthday, she’d decreed she’d be throwing an Elizabethan-style ball. And that everybody had to dress up accordingly. Derek, always eager to put a smile on her face, had offered to throw it at one of his houses.

So it was there that you were headed, on this glorious Saturday night. In a not-so-glorious and infact, quite heavy, Elizabethan era gown. It was a good job you’d elected to take an Uber, because quite frankly the dress weighed a ton. It would have been impossible to drive in.

Good job they didn’t have cars back in the Elizabethan era.

Not that women would have been allowed to drive them anyway.

You’re only a little late when you arrive. Fashionably late, you’d go so far as to say.

“____!” Penelope greets with a squeal, rushing out to embrace you into a hug. You don’t even make it all the way through the door before she’s on you with a flurry.

If you thought your dress was a lot, you have to hand it to the birthday girl. She could never be upstaged. How her gown actually fit inside the house was a mystery, it was huge - puffy with a corset that cinched her in tightly at the waist. Her hair was coiffed into perfect curls. She looked stunning; like she’d stepped right out of a painting.

“You look amazing!” You tell her, squeezing her tightly.

“So do you! I’m so glad you took the theme seriously!”

“I take all themes seriously when it’s you threatening me about them.”

She laughs. “Well Derek did too. And Spencer, the others...” She frowns, “Well, I’d like to say they tried, but Rossi definitely didn’t. He did, however, pay for a gazebo and a live band so I’m willing to let it slide.”

You smile, allowing her to take you inside. She babbles some more on her way in about all the decorations, food, and how next time she’s going to make everybody send her pictures of their outfits beforehand.

She’s right about the gazebo though - it’s beautiful. It has elegant fairylights adorning it, illuminating the place in a candescent glow. The live band is an instrumental one - there’s even a fiddle.

Where the hell did Dave find a fiddle?

He’s rich.

That has to be the satisfactory answer for now. There are far more pressing matters at hand: like everybody’s costumes.

Horch is wearing some fancy suit, Emily has one that’s similar, Rossi clearly is just dressed in his normal attire. J.J appears to have picked one up from a fancy dress shop, but if anyone could make that look good, it’s her. Derek looks an absolute dream - clearly dressed by Penelope. It’s Spencer though, unsurprisingly, who has gone all out. He has a miniature version of one of those puffy collars on, his suit a gorgeous maroon colour. He even has white tights on, with the boots that matched. If there were prizes for best costume - which knowing Penelope, there might well be - she’d be up against some fierce competition.

“Spence!” You chime, opening your arms to greet him, “I love your costume!”

“I love yours too!” He beams, hugging you tightly, “The skirt of your dress is very fitting to the period.”

“Thank you!” You say, reluctantly letting go of him to greet everybody else in turn.

It’s hard to keep your eyes off him though, and everybody knows it. You and Spencer had been dancing around each other for months, the epitome of the will-they-won’t-they, and you can’t help but hope that tonight you might finally cross that threshold.

It’s Penelope’s birthday.

Who are you kidding? Penelope would be ecstatic to claim credit.

***

You’re giddy, not just with the glass of wine in your system. With happiness, the exuberant kind that comes from watching all your friends exist among one another. It doesn’t hurt that Spencer barely leaves your side the entire night. He’s a veritable treasure trove of Elizabethan era facts. You’ve learnt more than any history class could possibly teach you.

A slow song comes on, which is when you decide to seize your opportunity.

Now or never.

You bump your shoulder against his. When you have his attention, you nod towards the dance floor, “Come and dance with me.”

He furrows his brows, clearly weighing up his options in his head.

You affect an Elizabethan lilt, “Thou art going to leave me alone at the ball, fair Lord Reid?”

“I could hardly dream of it,” He says, imitating you, “Would thou care to dance with me?”

He offers out his hand. You take it, noting how he gets the barest blush on his cheeks.

“Thou had me practically petrified, I thought you may never ask,” You tease, accepting his hand, squeezing it once for reassurance.

He laughs, nose crinkling. He rests his hand on your hip hesitantly, only solidifying his grip when you rest yours on his bicep. His other comes to rest on the other side, just above where your dress puffs out. The song playing sounds vaguely familiar, although it’s harder to place with it being an instrumental version.

You lean into him, side-stepping in time with him. He’s not a dancer by nature, that much is clear, but he is surprisingly good at leading.

It’s easy to let him guide you around the dance floor. You stutter a bit, almost tripping. His grip on your hip tightens.

“Be careful fair maiden,” He reprimands teasingly, “Thou wouldn’t want to fall.”

“Thou wouldn’t want to be seen with a maiden who has made a royal fool of herself.”

He shakes his head, “I could hardly bare it.”

“I do not know how you can bare to be seen with me regardless. I’m practically a haggard spinster,” You say, with a dramatic sigh.

He twirls you around, voice slipping back into his normal tone, “Actually it was mainly women from wealthy families who would marry young, from age 12. With poorer or middle class families it was most common for women to be in their mid-twenties by the time they got married, the average age was about 24.”

“Still younger than me,” You retort, stepping in time with him. You’re pressed up against his chest now.

His breath fans over your cheek, from the way he’s bent, from the way you’re leaning in to him. His big hand spans over your back, holding you close to him as he steps to the right.

“Well,” He says, affecting the English accent, “Thou art a lady of the highest stature. A commoner could not possibly hope to marry one such as yourself.”

You giggle, “Oh fair Lord Reid. Whenst will I possibly find a husband?”

With surprising ease, he dips you, allowing you to fall gracefully into his arms. He’s study, supportive. Before you know it, you’re back on your feet.

“Thou might be looking in the wrong places.”

“Pray tell, wherest would one suggest a lady like me ought to look?”

“Perhaps closer to ones home,” He says, English accent - if you could call it that - slipping a little, favouring sincerity.

“How much closer?”

His hands return to your waist, and yours to his chest. There’s only an inch between your bodies. He looks down at you with sincerity brimming in his eyes, “Perhaps a little closer.”

Your hand trails up to his chin. It dips at the mere weight of your thumb resting on it, “Gallant Lord Reid, perhaps this close?”

“Perhaps,” He swallows, voice morphing into the accent again, as if he’s afraid to be vulnerable, “Thou art a maiden, thou art to be courted before marriage.”

“And where would one court a fair maiden like me?”

“Where would the fair maiden like to go?”

“Wherever, as long as you’re the one taking her.”

He swallows. His eyes scan your face, watching how you deliberately look to his plump lips. He hesitates for only a moment longer, before leaning in and planting the most delicate kiss upon them.

If it wasn’t for the elated drunken giggles of everyone else around you, you’d have been lost in the bubble of a moment forever. It’s okay though, because at your wedding, Penelope is sure to tell the tale of the Elizabethan ball where you - the fair maiden - finally got together with your perfect Lord. You have to admit, it’s a good one.

Permanent Spencer tagslist: @ssa-m-187 @reidingmelodies @cyanide-mustard @shesalatesh @sapphic-prentiss @geostarr @kathrynisadogperson @rem-ariiana @spoonielivingfree @starsandshit90 @spencerreidat3am  @takeyourleap-of-faith @sassiest-politician @calm-and-doctor @ssa-m-187  @averyhotchner @muffin-cup @purplewaterbottles082 @reidsnose  @wheelsup @ellesgreenaway @sunlitspence @spencerreid9 @drspencerreidd @reiding-recs @bauemily @cmily @retrxbarnes @jhillio @txmhoelland @spenxerslut @im-autistic-not-stupid @amoeebaa @veridianluv @sad-bitch-h0ur @nighttimerain123 @ytj2304 @reidtome @converse-spence @randomfavtingswall @bethc54 @hubbybowenss @sebstan-is-the-man @justanothercrazyfangirl @eli-side-blog @vntgreid @reidmeastory @reidemandweep @ggublerss @s1lverhand @cigarette-day-dread @newtmyheart @i-understood-that-reference @willowrose99 @v-is-obsessive

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[sweetbunnykook]

Teeth (M)

Servant Vampire!JK x Royal Vampire!Noona - Oneshot/Drabble

Warning: blood, light smut (soft femdom, blood drinking)

Word: 1,462

Synopsis: Your obedient servant has a craving only you can satiate. 

“Noona, it hurts.”

You look up from your copy of Frankenstein, fully absorbed in its beauty to the point that it took you a little more than a few seconds to register your young servant is speaking. Jungkook stands leaning against the door frame of your dark bedroom warmed with an awakened fireplace, his deep brown eyes tinted wine crimson at the sight of your long legs peeking from underneath your white nightgown. He held his half-open backpack in one hand, crumbled notes from his lectures spilling over, while the other hand holds the sharp corner of his jaw.

“Come here, love,” you coo when his eyes begin to water, his fingers fumbling through the thick maroon plaid button down to wipe away stray droplets of blood that had tinted his lips from biting the insides of his cheeks all day. It must have been painful for him sitting close to warm-blooded humans without being able to dig his teeth into their skin.

Without hesitation, Jungkook drags his feet towards your reclining figure and flops onto your lap, pushing away your book rather rudely. You shove aside the thought that it would be troublesome to find where you left off when Jungkook is too impatient to wait for you to place a ribbon between the pages.

“Now tell me what’s wrong?” You cup his face in your hands, the warmth of his skin catching you off guard. Ah, he’s still very much human.

“My teeth hurts so bad, noona,” he whines, opening his mouth slightly for effect. You can see the four canines – two on top and two on the bottom – that had grown to the point that it protrudes just slightly when he snaps his jaw back into place. He’s growing into his fangs slowly but surely. “I can’t eat anything,” he swallows, “because it hurts to chew. Even drinking from a glass hurts because they keep getting in the way.”

“You’re teething, darling, it’s going to hurt a little at first. Most of our kind go through this rite of passage. ”

He pouts, his swollen bottom lip jutting towards the sky. He’s a bit envious that you’ve never experienced how painful teething is as you have tasted blood since your creation. You came into the world with flesh under your teeth and without fear in your eyes.

“I know but…still.” He huffs. “I-I don’t even crave blood that badly.” He explains himself with a lie that easily makes you smile. “I just…don’t know why I have to grow them so quickly. I had an exam today and I’m sure I failed it because I can’t stop focusing on these aching fangs.”

You brush your fingers over his cheekbones and his strong eyebrows. You let his Michelangelo waves smooth between your fingers and over your almond nails. If you weren’t such a forgiving mistress, you would have slapped him across the face for insinuating that your timing caused an inconvenience for him. If your family heard that you are letting a servant speak to you this way, you would have an earful all eternity.

Hundreds of years have gone by and many servants have gone in and out of your bedroom, but never one as endearing and ill-mannered as Jeon Jungkook. Fate pulled you to him. When you discovered him gazing at the portrait of you at a museum with eyes full of mirth, you knew he was meant for you. You knew he was meant to braid your hair and kiss your feet. He was meant to be in a queen’s bedchamber – in your bedchamber – worshipping you and defiling you in the same swivel of his hips that shoves his swollen cock into your plushness.

“Your body wants flesh more than blood. It wants to practice...you should let me help.” You smile, knowing how troubled he might be feeling. You had to admire his self-restraint.

He shakes his head free of your face scrunched with pain, brows furrowing even more as his eyes turn a brighter shade of crimson. As hurt as he is, he’s reluctant to let you bleed on his tongue. How exasperating yet endearing that he still considers you more human than monster. You’ve felt more than a puncture in your long, endless years.

“It would hurt you, noona.”

“I promise you I can take it.”

He shakes his head again although his heartbeat is growing erratic in your ears. “I don’t want that…I’d lose control.”

You gently maneuver his jaw towards you so that he can gaze deep in your golden honey eyes. He sighs  as your nails drag up the slope of his neck, lips parting just slightly when he catches a glimpse of your breast through the transparent dress. “Have you forgotten that I’m immortal, love?”

“Immortal does not mean free of pain.”

“Who says I would feel pain?” You ask. “I might feel pleasure, love.” You slip your fingers underneath his plaid shirt, watching him closely when he whimpers softly at your stone-cold fingers brushing over his hard pecs, over his hardening nipples. He’s shaped like a fallen angel, so perfectly innocent at first sight but hidden underneath is a body worthy of an incubus’s envy.

His top fangs uncovers from underneath his pink top lip as you bend forward, breasts hovering above his nose as you undo the buttons of his plaid top and let it fall open. You can see your emblem on the side of his tight waist still fresh and glowing a vibrant scarlet. Jungkook moans softly, hips jolting off the layered lotus silk sheets when you trace the mark with the pad of your thumb. He scrunches his eyes and exhales, restraining from pleading for your mercy for fear that you would halt your touches, as painful as it is over the fiery wound.

“See how pain can so easily turn into pleasure, love?”

His stomach clenches, hips snapping up once more as his black skinny jeans tighten. Shameless and spread apart for your picking, your servant couldn’t look any more pretty.

“Y-yes, noona.”

He exhales in relief when you lean away from the wound only to feel his heart fall out of his chest when he watches you slip your nightgown down your cold arms. Your heavy breasts are full and aching for his tongue, his sprouting fangs, and of course his cum when you’ll eventually demand for him to pump his swollen slick cock over your nipples. Jungkook swears his entire body is trembling and he can hear every heartbeat pulse down to his length.

“I command for you to taste me.”

Brows slightly furrowed in concern, Jungkook turns his body towards your chest, sitting upright over your lap as he nuzzles his face into your right breast. He breathes in the scent of royal blood coursing under your skin and your aphrodisiac perfume that smelled of weeping flowers.

“My mistress…all mine…” he whines, jaw falling and latching onto your left breast, engulfing your cold nipple within the cavern of his mouth. His four short fangs dig into your skin with enough force to draw your essence onto his impatient tongue.

Jungkook whines and sighs when the first drop of your sweet blood hits the back of his throat. He suckles, eyes rolling to the back of his head and hips jolting once more as pre-ejaculate coats the inside of his cotton briefs. He can hardly feel your touch as you cup his open jaw with one hand while weaving through his sweat-soaked ebony tresses with the other. His tongue presses firmly against your nipples as he forces his young fangs to puncture deeper, forgetting its limitations. Perhaps he’s more monster than human.

His eyes are still closed when you brush his sticky but parted bangs over his perspired forehead. He must have been hungry but he waited for your permission, your kindness, like a good boy.

“Love?”

Jungkook whimpers, shaking his head, his possessive grip on your breast unrelenting even when you run your thumb over his cheeks. He sucks again, taking a mouthful of your blood in the empty spaces of his mouth before swallowing.

It doesn’t take long for Jungkook’s entire body to fall limp on your lap, head falling over your thighs, lips and chin smudged with deep berry-black blood. You wanted to warn him that your blood is too potent for a newly awakened human like him. You wanted to warn that your blood won’t only give him mind-numbing pleasure with every drop, but that it will make him experience so much pleasure he will succumb to sleep when his body reaches its threshold.

Of course, he’s too impatient and too hungry to listen. Your sweet, sweet servant who now rests like he haven’t slept in years.

“Sweet dreams, Jungkook.”

[shegatsby]

Hannibal x reader when Mason Verger gets too close to their young daughter and Hannibal immediately goes into protective dad mode and his daughter immediately doesn’t like Mason. If you want, you can add that the reader is silently proud of their little girl for calling Mason a bad word. @iamcavainna​

Warnings; Mason Verger being a creep. Ew.

Drabble!

A/n; Hi guys! Thank you for this request, I HATE MASON VERGER SO MUCH YOU HAVE NO IDEA. Sorry for any typos, enjoy. 

(gif isn’t mine)

It was a cold  snowy day in Baltimore, you and your daughter Aldona left home to visit your husband Hannibal. Hannibal got tickets to Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar, he was spoiling you and your daughter like you belong to a royal family and neither of you complained.

Before you had Aldona you and Hannibal spend a lot of years together. You met him on a charity auction years ago, sitting next to each other. He simply turned to you and said how amazing you smelled and he wanted to know your perfume, that was a strange remark, however he made you smile and you had a nice conversation with him during the auction. You didn’t know how but he found your phone number and he insisted on to have you over for dinner and the rest is history. When he got the courage to tell you what he does on his free days he expected you to run for your life and never look back but you listened to him and his family history and how he got here, you cupped his warm cheeks and told him that you didn’t care, for once in his life he was shocked.

After having Aldona he became more passionate, he always said he wanted a daughter and the universe gifted him with Aldona, he wanted to name her and you didn’t say no. He was from Lithuania originally and he didn’t want to name his child a basic American name, it was his child and she had to have a special, unique name. She was a beautiful child and she grew up to be a beautiful young woman, she was 19 and home for the holidays at the moment.  

‘’Your dad has the tickets so we have to visit his office.’’ You simply explained your daughter and drove to your husband’s office. The lights were on, it was close to 9pm so he must be seeing his last patient.  Before you could knock his door it was opened by Hannibal and you saw Mason Verger coming out, you knew him because you met his sister on charity fundraisings, you never liked her brother, Verger family was just weird and they were coming from old money so they probably had a lot of skeletons in their closets. His cold blue eyes made you uncomfortable, ‘’Mrs. Lecter! It is so good to see you.’’ He said rather loudly, you had to smile kindly, ‘’Hello Mason. How are you?’’ even though you didn’t like him you had good manners, ‘’Thank you, thank you,’’ he looked over to see your daughter, ‘’Have we met before Miss?’’ you could see Hannibal’s posture go tight. ‘’No sir.’’ Your daughter said, Mason was much older than your daughter, Hannibal made sure to teach your daughter how to address someone who is older than her, Mason extended his gloved hand, ‘’Mason Verger. I’m sure you’ve heard the name Verger, we’re popular in Baltimore.’’ You wanted to wipe that cocky grin off of his lips. ‘’Unfortunately no, never heard of it.’’ Your daughter coldly said, she crossed her arms and stood next to you, it was a thing she did whenever she was uncomfortable and you gently patted her back.

Hannibal took a step between Aldona and Mason, ‘’If you don’t have anything more to add our session Mason, I would like to leave with my family.’’ His maroon eyes challenged Mason. Mason looked displeased but if he was smart enough to read Hannibal’s face he would leave and never come back. Months ago Hannibal made a mental note to help Margot Verger with the murder of her brother and Mason was pushing his luck right now, his hands were fists and he was trying really hard not to punch Mason. He couldn’t do that in front of his precious daughter.

Mason Verger reached for his pockets and found his business card, ‘’If you need anything give me a call.’’ He said and as he was about to give it to Aldona Hannibal quickly took the card, ‘’If we need anything we will let you know. Have good evening Mason.’’ When Mason left Hannibal threw the card into trash bin, ‘’Shall we leave girls?’’ Aldona jumped to hug her dad, ‘’He was an asshole, thank you dad.’’ Hannibal never liked cursing but her comment made him threw his head back and laugh, you joined them, even though you were happy and laughing you knew what was going to happen to Mr. Verger in the near future.

Thank you for reading. :)

[kraekat29]

~ JJ and Ruby's playlist ~

Vessel - ROYAL

Real Country - Upchurch

Beautiful Mistakes - Maroon Five

Streets - Doja Cat

Springsteen - Eric Church

Young and Beautiful - Lana Del Ray

Rolling Stoned- Upchurch

Heart Of Stone - Iko

Love Me Like You Do- Ellie Goulding

Falling - Chase Atlantic

Friends - Chase Atlantic

Dangerous - Morgan Wallen

Livin' The Dream - Morgan Wallen

Wasted On You- Morgan Wallen

You Proof- Morgan Wallen

Give You What You Like - Avril Lavigne

Chasin You- Morgan Wallen

Only You ( and you alone) - The Platters

Don't Blame Me- Taylor Swift

Smithereens ( original or Spotify Session) - Twenty One Pilots

One Margarita - Luke Bryan

Don't Worry Baby- The Beach Boys

Be My Baby- The Ronettes

Whatta Man - Salt N Pepa with En Vogue

Giving Him Something He Can Feel - En Vogue

Sand In My Boots ( the dangerous sessions or original )- Morgan Wallen

Iris - the goo goo dolls

Karma Police - Panic! At The Disco

Tonight, Tonight - Panic! At The Disco

Friends Don't - Maddie and Tae

Someone To You -BANNERS

Colors - Halsey

22- Taylor Swift

Enchanted - Taylor Swift

Positions - Ariana Grande

POV- Ariana Grande

Into You - Ariana Grande

Side to Side- Ariana Grande

Plastic Hearts - Miley Cyrus

Bloody Valentine - Machine Gun Kelly

Sweater Weather - The Neighborhood

Style- Taylor Swift

Country Boys Paradise- The Lacs

You Got What I Need - The Lacs

Two Dozen Roses - Shenandoah

Last Kiss- Pearl Jam

Black- Pearl Jam

I Was Made For Loving You- Kiss

You're The Inspiration - Chicago

Tennessee Whiskey - Chris Stapelton

Burn The House Down- AJR

34+35- Ariana Grande

Kiss me more - Doja Cat ft. SZA

Secret Love Song - Little Mix ft. Jason Derulo

I don't do drugs - Doja Cat ft. Ariana Grande

House Of Memories - Panic! At The Disco

Heathens x Trees - Twenty One Pilots

Miss Jackson ( acoustic version) - Panic! At The Disco

Can't Help Falling In Love - Kacey Musgraves or Twenty One Pilots

Troubadour - George Strait

I don't want this night to end - Luke Bryan

Maroon- Taylor Swift

Lavender Haze- Taylor Swift

Labyrinth - Taylor Swift

Ghost Of You- Five Seconds Of Summer

You're On Your Own, Kid- Taylor Swift

This I Swear- The Skyliners

More to come!!

[wilhelmsbee]

why yes i do love turning lyrics into conversations... how could you tell?

[binniesthighs]

call me babydoll | reader x chan

soooo shhhh this actually a part one shhhh but i’m just trying out writing out different things and getting out some of my ideas outta my head that i’m really excited about, this one being one of them!! for now...just pretend that this is just a regular ol’ drabble hehehehe. this part is the set-up chapter (shhh i mean drabble) 

One

Pairing: self insert, female reader x bang chan 

Genre: fluff, smut, and angst 

Tags: (overall) bodyguard au, moderndayprince!chan, bodyguard!reader, secret agent au, royal au, action and peril, plot driven, running out of time, slow-ish burn, growing feelings, softswitch!chan, hardswitch!reader, some skz side characters, jeongin third wheel and comedic relief LOL, travelling, chan being expensive and having a lil bit of a superiority complex, flirtyyyy chan, bits of mystery, explicit language, mentions of food and alcohol, idk think like 007 vibes hehe 

CWs: guns and gun violence, a shooting in a ballroom, mentions of blood 

Word count: 4.6k 

Parts

ONE | TWO 

“I wasn’t expecting to see you here early.” 

“Well, expect the unexpected.” 

“Don’t turn the motto back at me. I’m sick of hearing it so many damn times.” 

“What? You and I both know that it’s true. You’re here early too, so, technically you don’t get to say anything.” 

Jeongin straightened his bow tie, then patted down the sides of his perfectly ironed tux with not a crinkle to be found. Knowing him, it was a miracle that he hadn’t messed it up in some form yet. He promptly took out his pocket square to clean off his glasses. 

“You’re looking nice. Seems like they don’t mind spending money now on you these days.” He blew off the flecks of dust on his lenses. 

“They know that they get their return on their investment. And thank you.” 

You smoothed down the sides of your dusty pink dress that nearly went all the way down to your ankles. Had you any other choice, it would’ve been something different, but, dresses were really good at hiding your thigh holster compared to the slacks you usually favored. You didn’t mind the times that you would have to put on a pretty dress, it somewhat reminded you that there was normal life outside of your job. Not to mention, they had started sending you jewelry as well. You always had liked the look of a diamond necklace. 

“You do your research for tonight?” 

Jeongin nodded, then took from his pocket his phone to read over the details. 

“I’ve done a background check on everyone attending, we shouldn’t have any issues. It’s already a low risk event anyway. Charity is never something to get too worked up over, but, you never know with the detail that some of these people come with...who they might be tied to...” 

“--The only people we can trust is ourselves.” You nodded with arms crossed. 

“Expect the unexpected, I know.” He slid his phone back into his inside suit pocket to adjust his cufflinks. 

“--Nervous?” You took note of his fidgeting actions. 

“Nervous? No. I’ve been through this before. You know that.” 

You flicked your partner right on his forehead strung with his white hair. You had really wished that he had picked a less conspicuous color, but he had strings to pull that you didn’t. 

Jeongin cleared his throat, “You do your once over?” 

“Do you even need to ask? I did it hours ago and when we arrived. You know that I’ve done this before too.” 

“I know. I know.” 

Jeongin looked out at the vast circular atrium that made up the center of the hotel. Several stories down under the glass rooftop, you could hear the faint sprinkling of the intricate fountain which smelled of copper. A bit further down, you could see the tips of the tree branches from the indoor landscaping. Across the way, a door slammed with residents tucking in their ties. The two men you had recognized from the roster: a simple thing which made you feel at ease. Your young partner must’ve started to have an effect on you. A sense of unease seemed to quell in your neck. You always listened to your hunches. 

“W-what do you think he thinks of us?” Jeongin broke the silence. 

“Well,” From inside the room you had waited outside, you could hear his distant murmuring, so you lowered your tone. “I think that he has yet to trust us. It’s only been a few weeks. He doesn’t seem like the kind to give himself up easy. That, and I’m sure his resentment of his father must have some influence.” 

“You think he hates us?” 

“I think he hates his father for hiring us. I mean, wouldn’t you? His old security detail, he had them for years.” 

“I guess so. But, we’re not like his old detail.” 

“No. We’re not. I don’t think he gets that yet. I think he sees us as one more way his father has a hold on him.” 

“It’s not like he can do much else about it when his dad’s a kin--” 

“--No, no, thank you, really, it’s lovely. Some of your best work. Thank you.” 

Chan swung open the door to his room, stopping Jeongin right in his sentence. 

“Ah. You’re here already. That’s...punctual.” 

As dazzling and showy as ever, Chan looking nothing short of a magazine model. For a prince, he had certain...appearances that he had to maintain. Today, it was a velvety and maroon suit jacket with a white button up. On the collar, two matching brooches had been perfectly placed, and they were silver like moonlight in the shape of English ivy and adorned with diamonds. On his lapel, he wore the royal insignia of the lion and the wolf. Behind him, you could see his slew of stylists cleaning up their makeup kits and obscene assortment of designer dress shoes for him to pick from. You had thought before that he even smelled like royalty: stuffy white roses with a hint of priceless cognac. 

Jeongin bowed his head respectfully. “Everything has been prepared for tonight. The rest of your guards are surrounding the building, and I’ll be corresponding with them as needed, your Highness.” He tapped at his earpiece. 

Chan drew his attention over to you, giving you a rather lusty glare. Over the past couple weeks, you had gotten used to it. He was a prince to every extent of the word. If there was anything that he had wanted, he simply had to ask. It drove him insane that all he could do was merely look at you. You had  wondered if he harbored anything else for you besides the way that he would devour the curves of your shoulders and hips. 

“Fox. Bee. You look nice tonight. I like seeing you dressed up. Makes me feel less out of place.” 

You couldn’t help but let out a little sound of discontentment over his rather affectionate nickname for you. You and your partner had been introduced to him as F and B. Quickly he had figured out Jeongin’s codename as Fox, considering that he had done a poor job picking out one that wasn’t related to him at all. Anyone could tell that boy was fox-like, and he also just wasn’t that creative when it came to picking out a name for himself. B, or Bee as he had decided, was your name; as in bumblebee. After learning about Fox, he figured that there was an animal theme going, so Bee seemed to fit best in his oponion. 

You tested his glare with your best, “Thank you, your Highness.” 

Jeongin gulped. “Your assistant should be waiting downstairs with your itinerary. She told me that you should meet her first off.” 

“You work too hard F. Have some fun tonight, hm? But don’t...drink too much. You’re responsible for my life remember?” Chan clapped his bodyguard on the back. 

Your partner nervously laughed and adjusted his glasses once more: his preferred tic. 

“And Bee?” Chan rose a brow to lean into close and whisper. “Stay close, alright?” 

“Of course, your Highness.” 

Chan let out a little scoff after getting one more proper look at your frame. “Damn. You really are stunning. Just a little too dangerous for me though.” 

You rolled your eyes, dishing him outa, “Whatever you say, your Highness.” 

Jeongin threw you and annoyed glare before tracing after Chan as he sauntered down the hall to the glass elevator. 

“Bee? You coming? Or do you have something better to do?” Chan’s voice called down the hall with an echo and a little teasing gesture of his hand. 

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

It had been seven years since you had chosen this line of work, and each time that you had to go to one of these things, you hated them more and more. Not because they were hard to control--they were easy--but you just hated how many superficial and self-absorbed people that they could fit into one room. 

The air was filled with the scent of champagne bubbles and too much Chanel No. 5. From corner to corner of the room, and even next to the ice sculpture of the lion and the wolf crest, silk, satin; velvet and the best cotton could be found. Long gloves covered the arms of ladies with wrinkling skin, and tweed vests held in the guts of men who indulged in their food just as much as their mistresses. All this effort just to appear as if they had given one care about the philanthropic efforts of the royalty.

Several neatly dressed waiters passed you with golden platters of hors d'oeuvres made of ingredients so expensive, they would’ve cost the same amount as the generous donations made by the attendees. If you could’ve, you would’ve scooped up as many of them as you could, just to eat all of their copious amounts of money yourself, but, there was somewhere a rule that you had to keep your hand to yourself when you were on duty. The best that you had to look forward too was take-out to eat at 3 in the morning with Jeongin later. 

Buzzing chatter filled your earpiece while each of the additional guards gave their hourly report. 

“Damn. It’s fucking colder out here than I thought. It’s fucking summer.” One of them joked to the tune of the other guards laughter. 

“Stay focused.” Jeongin scolded over the line. “Don’t leave your posts until your shifts change.” 

While he was a timid man, Jeongin was not one to mess around. Son of the director, he knew that he had big shoes to fill. After pleading for years for her to admit him into the academy, she had agreed. Everyone knew the reason why she didn’t want him in this line of work. Too many dead. Too many missing. In some ways, he was also yours to look after. 

You trailed after Chan who was busy talking to his assistant and his publicist. While he nodded at their words, you knew that he must’ve been barely listening. Chan never really was one for formality, but much rather enjoyed simplicity and pleasure. Jeongin and you had somewhat of a bet going: out of all the guests, you had liked to bet which one he would take with him to his bedroom. Since you had all the profiles of the guests, you liked to bet a little money on which one it would be. 

Jeongin had guessed it to be the heiress and daughter of a tycoon who had made a multi-million won donation in the name of his company. It was ironic; his very company was a big-scale pollutor who liked to make nice with the crown. She was conventionally very pretty: long legs, a thin frame, she was educated and looked as if she could hold somewhat of a conversation...not like that mattered to him. 

You had predicted it to be the foreign CEO who had just started business dealings with the crown. While she might’ve looked a bit stuck-up and prim, she was intimidating, and a challenge. Chan loved challenges. Chan also had a pension for pretty boys with a bit too much money on their hands--usually inherited--and with nothing much else to do other than dote on him. There were plenty of those attending the gala tonight. 

Chan snaked through the crowd, bowing his head at all of the Good evening, your Highnesses and the It’s a pleasure to meet you, your Highnesses. Every few moments or so he would take a bite from a golden plate and then pop it into his mouth. The whole night long, he would hold his glass with him and it would get refilled for him without him even needing to ask. You sometimes liked to pretend that in some places, they must’ve assigned someone to watch him from afar to make sure that he would never need anything before it was given to him. It wouldn’t have surprised you. 

“Having fun Bee?” Chan languidly rolled his head back, swirling his glass. 

“As much fun as you are.” You quipped. 

“Anything that I should be concerned about?” 

“Nothing of concern.” You stated matter-of-factly. Had you matched his flirting tone, you knew that you wouldn’t hear the end of it for the rest of the night. “Fox. Report?” 

“Nothing that I can see. No one has been tagging you.” Jeongin had staked himself up on the upper balcony of the banquet hall room, and had been watching for as long as you had been following after the prince. “You sensing anything strange?” His voice tickled in your in-ear. 

“Just a bunch of the normal crowd.” You kept your tone down low. “He’s rubbing noses with the usual. You’ve seen too?” 

He chuckled. “Yeah. I know what you mean.”

You followed Chan to his seat nearest the front of the room which had been fashioned into a stage with a clear glass podium in the center. Right in front there was one more crest decorating it. Chan had ensured it to be so: he had wanted everyone to know that this was all for his charity. 

“It seems like our bets aren’t working out. He hasn’t talked to either of the...suspects.” Your partner changed his choice of words knowing that the other guards were listening. 

From the opposite side of the room both the heiress and the CEO stood with thin glasses of wine in their lithe hands. Chan had in fact walked right past them, and didn’t even notice. 

“Tonight is going to be a long night.” Jeongin sighed over the line. 

You politely pushed past attendees with a raised hand and a sweet smile. You had found that when you smiled, you had appeared less intimidating. 

“Oh wait...what’s this?” 

“What?” You whipped your head around after Jeongin’s interjection. “What? Do you see something? What’s the call?” 

“Relax! It just looks like he’s approaching someone he wants to talk to. I think both of us are about to be proven wrong.” 

“Ah, shit.” You sighed. “Don’t put me on edge like that.” 

“I’m only trying to entertain myself.” 

“Name. Who is it? You’ve got the roster.” 

You partner was quiet for a minute, and you watched from a distance as Chan approached the man leaned over a martini seated at one of the perfectly decorated tables. 

“Uh, I think that he’s Lee Minho. Some kind of royalty from somewhere else. Pretty low ranking from the looks of it. I think that he made a donation himself...and it’s...damn, larger than you would expect.” 

“Should we be concerned?” 

“No. Seems harmless.” 

“Thank you for coming,” You made out the words that Chan had mouthed. He drew a chair next to the unknown man. 

From what you could tell, Lee Minho was handsome to the full extent of the word: nearly all of his physical features were exemplary and his suit appeared to have been fitted to perfect for him; likely one of a kind. He too wore an insignia on his lapel, but it was one that you hadn’t recognized before. He had immaculately styled hair that had some kind of rebellious and boyish charm to it. The man had a kind of mystery about him too: you had been able to pride yourself in being able to read people, and it had saved your life on more than one occasion. But with him, there was something that you couldn’t place. 

“Do they know eachother?” You asked Jeongin. 

“Not that I know of. School friend maybe? Seems like all the royals send their kids to the same schools.”

“Hm. That would make sense.” 

“Enjoying yourself?” Chan said. 

Lee Minho nodded, and rose his glass to clink it with the prince’s. 

“Do we think that he’s our...suspect?” 

The stranger dipped his head into his hand as he listened to Chan speak. A flirty gesture that you had seen a hundred times or more. Still, the way that he inspected Chan, it wasn’t adoring. Or at least, you didn’t think that it was.

“No. I don’t think so.” 

“What the hell are you yapping about?” One of the other guards snapped over the line. 

“Um, classified stuff.” Jeongin quickly explained. “Above your paygrade. Don’t worry about it.” 

“Fox. Watch out for him tonight.” You snuck over to a corner of the room where you could watch the two of them more discreetly. 

“Affirmative....” Your partner paused. “Babydoll.” 

“Pffff--Babydoll??” The same guard stifled his laughter. “You call her Babydoll, Fox? Damn, you all must be closer than I thought. Didn’t know that I was missing out on some of the action--” 

“--Ever heard of a codename, Three?” 

“Babydoll’s her codename.” 

A grin crept over your lips. “Expect the unexpected.” 

You had almost gotten distracted enough to miss how Lee Minho had leaned over to whisper something into the prince’s ear. After he had done so, Chan laughed out a little, then reached his arm around the other man’s chair comfortably. 

“They’re...cozy.” You updated your partner. 

“I’m trying to cross-check where he might know him from.” 

Chan’s assistant and publicist finally slipped away with giddy little smiles. In many ways, you were jealous of them. They could leave whenever the wanted, eat what they wanted...

Jeongin scoffed. “Well, turns out...nothing. I can’t find anything.” 

“Nothing?” 

“Negative. I’m not seeing any crossover.” 

“So they really are strangers?” 

Your partner sighed. “Looks like neither of us are cashing ou--I mean--finding the suspect.” 

Under your breath, you wondered aloud, “Who are you...Lee Minho?” 

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

The night drew on longer with the rest of the formalities: the formal dinner, followed by several speeches from important people while dessert was being served. It all led up to the final act: His Royal Highness, Prince Chan’s speech. On several neat notecards marked with the crest, he held them in front of him while he ate his last bits of Mont Blanc Chocolate Pavlova. Even the name of the sweet itself sounded pretentious. Granted, it smelled delicious--as many expensive things did. 

You stifled a yawn from your little set up on the edge of the room. At least you should’ve been able to sit, but it turns out that sitting is also against the rules in this line of work. A couple other security and bodyguards had joined you at the edge: some of their heads nodded with sleep, and the others looked as if they had taken one too many energy shots. Luckily, your stamina had been well crafted. 

A fancily dressed MC made his way up to the podium and the room filled with applause after the last speaker had said all of their correct mandatory words. 

“It is my honor to introduce to the stage, our wonderful head benefactor of this organization, His Royal Highness, Prince Chan of the Crown. 

Applause tenfold of before erupted through the whole room and it wasn’t even an afterthought for the every attendee to stand up from their seats in an ovation. It was a force of habit for you, but you found yourself clapping as well. 

Chan rose with grace, and re-buttoned his jacket with finesse. A blinding spotlight found him and it made the diamonds adorning his beck wink brilliantly. Even more blinding was his pearl white, and perfectly trained smile accompanied by his wave. 

Thank you. Thank you. He mouthed. 

“It’s like he’s a frickin’ movie star.” Jeongin groaned. 

“Might as well be with the way that they treat him. You know deep down they’re all just terrified.” 

Chan made his way up to the stage in all of his regality, and the applause didn’t stop until he cleared his throat. A collective groaning of a couple hundred chairs squeaked when everyone sat back down. 

“Thank you everyone, really. I wanted to thank you all for your generous support in your donations to this organization, as well as your association with the crown. I’m sure that all the beneficiaries of your donations are beyond thankful compared to me. Without you, this would not be possible.” Chan spoke with grandiose gestures, as usual, but this time, he had found you on the side of the room. “Listen, aside from being a prince, I’m also just a person. A person who knows what it means to struggle, to--” 

“--I can’t listen to this anymore.” You whispered into the quiet room, and to your partner. 

“Just a few more hours.” He droned. “I almost wish that something would happen so that we don’t have to sit though much else of this.” 

“Be careful what you wish for.” 

In the corner of your eye, Lee Minho shifted in his seat, but still kept his undivided attention to the stage. You figured he must’ve been just like the rest of them: enamored by the flashiness of the crown--and Chan. He had a way of putting a spell on people: it was the kind of spell that a prince of deception had crafted after years of being kept under lock and key. 

“--Anyway, what I’m trying to say, royal or fanciful we all might be, in the simplest way, we’re all just people, therefore this is what connects us all. Thank you.” 

Chan was gifted yet another standing ovation that was somehow even more thunderous than before. 

“Yeah right.” You scoffed. “People born into money. There’s a difference.” 

Chan gave his last waves, then a clamor echoed from the back of the room. At first, it had just sounded like the same raucous laughter you had heard all night, but then it shifted to something different. The sound of laugher turned into shouting, then screams: high pitched and piercing. You had seconds to respond, head whipping around the room to catch sight of the confused prince. In your in-ears, the the sound of gunshots echoed with rapid-fire speed. Machine guns. Shouting commands barked in your ear, and muddled with Jeongin’s string of demands and questions. 

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON OUT THERE? REPORT! REPORT!” 

Your heart instantly started beating into hyperdrive, and your legs sprinted as fast has physically possible 

“THEY’VE GOT GUNS!” A shrill and cracked voice of an older woman wailed from the back of the room. 

Immediately after she had said so, shots fired into the darkened room with sparks, and the metallic sound of bullets hitting the marbled ground followed. 

Chan looked around in his panic for you, petrified on the stage. You slung your gun out from your thigh holster and latched onto him with all of your might. 

“TH-THEY JUST CAME OUT OF NOWHERE IN THESE VANS. THEY’RE ARMOURED, WE CAN’T--” 

“Get the fuck down there and secure the exists!” Jeongin growled into his mic. “B--is the prince secure??” 

“Secure!” You yelled back. Using your body as a barrier, you led the cowering prince through the mass hysteria of the crowd. 

“Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Shit.” Chan shook under your iron grip. 

More shots fired into the room and bodies parted like the sea and fell over each other. 

From the balcony, you had caught Jeongin aiming his own gun at the chaos below. 

“I’ll cover you! Fuck! There’s so many of them! Get him to the car out back--Three, Six, meet B out there! Three!? Six!? Report!” 

“Three and Six are down F!” One of the guards panted. “I can provide cover out back!!” 

“Who’s speaking??” Jeongin bellowed, then aimed from above at one of the intruders. Your only focus was on weaving you and Chan out of there, but you had seen one of them in a blur. Each of the men with guns wore dark grey suits with black ties and leather gloves. Each of them wore their own crest: and it was all red. 

“Bee?? Bee???” Chan shouted out for you, and jumped every time the crack of a shot echoed in the ballroom. 

“I’ve got you, your Highness. We’ll be out soon. Keep your head down and listen to me.” Your arm held to him tightly, and you soon found the exit nearest. There was no telling if there would be more of them outside, but you loaded your gun quickly just in case, and pointed it out. 

“Jeongin, get your ass down here!” 

“Jeongin? Who the fuck is that??” Chan ducked down to hide himself behind your frame. 

His name had slipped on your tongue, but that hardly mattered. 

“I’ll be down in a second!!!” 

“Don’t fucking waste time up there when I need you down here!!” 

“Two! Two Reporting!!” A man suddenly yelled in your in-ear. “I’ve made it out back and I’ve secured the exit. The car is safe!!” 

“FOX! Now!” 

Your partner heaved, “I’m coming, I’m coming!!” 

You kicked open the exit door, gun’s still blazing, however one one else could be found on the other side. 

“Thank God,” You sighed. 

“Oh shit, I’m gonna be sick.” Chan had turned paler than white, then stumbled in your arms. 

“Hey, HEY!” You held him upright. “It’s gonna be alright. I’ve got you. You’re safe. You need to trust me. Your life is in my hands and I’m not giving it up easy, got it?” 

“O-okay.” He stammered, then attempted to straighten himself. 

“The Prince is outside, repeat, The Prince is outside. Two, are you in position?” 

“Yes. Yes, I am.” 

Other than the fact that you had just escaped absolute peril, the evening was unbearably pleasant. Crickets chirped in the summer evening, and the humidity of the night smelled gorgeously of the lake that was near-by as well as the vast array of flowers that had been purposefully landscaped around the hotel. Chan’s uneven steps scraped at the gravel walkway. 

Since you had canvassed the whole building well, you had known exactly where the getaway car was, but you were still careful. 

“Bee. Bee!” Chan blabbered. “Have-have I told you yet that I-I’m in love with you?” 

“No, you haven’t Your Highness.” 

“I fucking am. If I die tonight, I want you to know that I am ridiculously in love with you, and fuck, I wanna--” 

“--I’m sorry, Your Highness, respectfully, but now is not the time for this and you are not dying on my watch.” 

Somewhere off in the distance, frogs croaked, and the splashing of fish in the lake plopped at the surface waters. You turned a corner to finally see Two waiting his his gun raised. He was a bit of a shorter and scrawnier man, but something about him told you that where he lacked in strength, he must’ve made up for in agility. 

“I’m out! I’m out!” Your partner gasped, and over the in-ear you could hear his running footsteps. “I’m almost there! I’ll be there in a second!” 

“Your Highness,” Two bowed and opened the car door. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. You can call me Two or J. Either you prefer.” 

Jeongin came bounding around the corner with heaving breaths and his clothes askew. His glasses which just barely held onto his face had a crack on them and his knuckles were covered in blood. 

“Let’s go.” The younger man prompted. 

“In the car you go, Your Highness.” You motioned for him to do so. 

Chan whimpered like a toddler. 

You shoved his body in, “Stop that. Get in the car.” 

“I’m in love with you Bee!” He yelled out, “I’M FUCKING IN LOVE WITH YOU BEE!” 

Jeongin slammed the door in his face with a bit of a chuckle. 

“He’s delirious.” 

“Mm.” your partner smiled. “Sure.” 

[karahalloway]

(Un)Common Attraction: Chapter 28 - The Royal Slog

Series: TRR (following the events of Book 1, with some changes)

Pairing: Drake Walker x OC (Harper Gale)

Rights belong to Pixelberry, most characters and some dialogue belong to them.

Book Synopsis: Harper Gale is a small-town girl working as a waitress at a seedy New York dive bar. After a chance encounter with nobility sees her jetting halfway around the world to compete for the hand of the Prince of Cordonia, her dream of seeing the world starts to come true sooner than she expected. But as the completion heats up, Harper quickly learns that life at court is a lot more than just pretty dresses and fancy balls, and that the polished aristocratic smiles often hide deceit. Does she have what it takes to rise above the gossip and intrigue of the social season, and beat the nobles at their own games? And, more importantly, does she actually want to become the queen of a small European country? Or will her heart have other ideas?

Masterlist: (Un)Common Attraction

Chapter Summary: It’s the day of the Royal Hunt and Harper is less than happy... on several fronts.

Word Count: 4,600

Rating/Warnings: PG-13 (minor swearing, angst and pining)

Please read: Author’s Note

Also available on Wattpad.

Chapter 27 - The Royal Slog

"Rise and shine, young Padawan!"

"Eugh..." I grumble, turning over and pulling the covers over my head as the Beaumont brothers march into my room. "What time is it?"

"Five o'clock," states Bertrand.

"Five?!" I exclaim, bolting up in shock.

"And, we're already running late," Bertrand adds.

He looks every inch the aristocrat, dressed in cream-coloured breeches, black knee-high riding boots with a strip of red leather around the top and a fitted black blazer. Even his normally pejorative sneer only seems to heighten the effect.

"Late?" I ask in disbelief. "It's barely even daylight!"

"The Royal Hunt is a whole day event, and it starts early," informs Maxwell.

He too looks rather dashing in a matching maroon blazer, like a modern-day Mr Bingley to his brother's grumpy Mr Darcy.

"And, if you want to be a part of it, then I suggest you make haste," informs Bertrand snidely. "No one's getting any younger here."

"Okay, okay..." I grumble, throwing the covers back. "I'll meet you out front in ten minutes."

"You have five," corrects Bertrand, as he and Maxwell make their way out of my room.

Blowing a wayward lock of hair out of my face in frustration, I stomp into the bathroom.

I will definitely be glad when the social season was over, and I could wake up according to my natural circadian rhythm, instead of to the Beaumonts' schedule... especially after tossing and turning for most of the night, the gut-wrenching conversation I had had with Drake running on repeat through my head until I eventually cried myself to sleep in the early hours of the morning.

After a warp-speed shower, I pull my hair up into a high ponytail and throw on some socks and underwear before squeezing myself into the spare pair of jodhpurs that I had saved for today's outing. With a grimace, I open the fancy clothes bag hanging in the wardrobe and extract the crisp, button-down shirt and navy blazer hanging inside. Whoever had decided that riding around in the equestrian's version of a suit was a good idea had been a major dumbass... because even though it looked posh, I could not imagine that it was comfortable.

Six minutes later, I am walking out the front of the manor into the crisp morning air, looking like I had just stepped out of an 18th century oil painting and feeling equally as ridiculous... and in no mood for today's Hunt.

"Finally," grumbles Bertrand, fixing me with his trademark scowl.

"You look great, Harper!" beams Maxwell.

"Thanks..." I mutter, tugging at the sleeves of my blazer uncomfortably.

"Yes, yes," waves Bertrand dismissively with his hand. "Now, I just saw Prince Christian heading towards the stables alone, so this is the perfect opportunity for you to catch a moment with him before the start of the Hunt. Maxwell, will you do the honours?"

"Of course, brother," nods Maxwell. "After you, my lady."

Maxwell leads the way across the dewy verge towards the stable block. The early morning mist had not yet dissipated, and it gave the grounds around the manor a hauntingly beautiful vibe, like something out of Jane Austen novel.

"How are you feeling this morning, Harper?" he asks. "You were out for quite a long time yesterday."

"Oh, just dandy!" I reply sarcastically.

"Oh-oh..." says Maxwell. "Hana told me about your frustrations during your riding lessons – was it really that bad?"

"Let's just say that I will not be winning any dressage ribbons any time soon..."

It wasn’t really the reason I was feeling less than sunny this morning, but I didn’t really want to rehash my conversation with Drake right now.

"Yeah..." agrees Maxwell. "I tried to tell Bertrand that he was being ambitious, trying to teach you a whole different style of riding in less than a week, but he can be stubborn when he wants to be."

"Don't I know it..." I mutter. "So. Do you and Hana... talk a lot?" I ask after a pause, knowing that there was no reason for Maxwell to bear the brunt of my disgruntled state this morning... and I could use the distraction anyway.

Maxwell flushes. "On occasion..."

"Oh, come on!" I exclaim. "The two of you have been basically inseparable since the Regatta. Anyone with half an eye can see that the two of you have a thing for each other and need to get a room."

"Are you using my lines on me, Harper?"

"If the glove fits..." I grin.

Maxwell rubs the back of his neck self-consciously. "I... I have to admit that I really like Hana. She's beautiful, talented and an amazing dancer. And I just feel like I can talk to her, you know? Like she gets me."

"And does she feel the same?"

"Honestly...? I don't know. I'm kind of getting mixed messages from her."

"That's probably because of her parents. They have quite a tight hold on her and even though she may like you, fear of their disapproval is likely holding her back. She is supposed to be here for Christian, after all."

"Yeah, she did tell me a bit about her family, and the frankly insane expectations that they have of her. So, I don't think they would be best pleased if they found out that she was interested in the second-born son of a broke duchy whose only achievement in life is being friends with the Crown Prince of Cordonia."

"You are more than that, and you know it," I tell him sincerely. "You are funny, kind, compassionate and also an amazing dancer. Sure, your house may be hanging on by a shoestring financially, but I know you and Bertrand will figure that out. If you like Hana, then go after her! Sweep her off her feet – quite literally, if you have to. God knows she could do with more 'real world' experiences!"

"Thanks, Harper," says Maxwell with a small smile. "You always seem to know what to say to make me feel better about myself."

"That's what best friends are for, aren't they?" I ask, bumping him with my shoulder amiably.

"I wouldn't know..." he admits. "Never had a best friend before."

My jaw drops open. "Seriously? I find that hard to believe..."

"Well, Leo was always closer with Bertrand, given that they're both a bit older, and Christian and Drake had already called dibs on each other, so I was kind of left without a BFF."

"I'm sorry..." I say softly. "That sounds lonely..."

"Don't be," he replies with a grin. "I have been fortunate enough to have an extremely privileged upbringing, which led me to you. So, I regret nothing."

"Aww, thanks, Maxwell. That's really sweet!"

"Hug?" he asks with a twinkle in his blue eyes.

"Always," I reply with a wide smile.

Maxwell envelopes me into what I am quickly learning is his customary bear-hug, and I take a moment to enjoy the cozy warmth offered by the reassuring physical proximity of another human being. Because God knows there was not enough of that at court…

We separate after we’ve both had our fill.

“Thanks,” I say sincerely. “I needed that.”

“Well, if you need any more spontaneous displays of affection, you know where to find me!” he winks.

“Yeah,” I grin. “Waking me up when I’m trying to catch up on my beauty sleep.”

Stepping inside the barn, I am greeted by a hive of activity as grooms scurry to and fro, saddling horses in preparation for the Hunt.

Since I can't see Christian and didn't particularly want to talk to him at the moment anyway, I make my way over to Hektor's box while Maxwell disappears in to one of the stalls, probably to start sorting his own horse.

The stallion bobs his head eagerly at my approach, making me laugh despite my foul mood.

"Ready to go for a ride, bud?" I ask as I run my fingers over his velvety muzzle.

He blows a raspberry as he shakes his head.

"I'll take that as 'yes', big boy."

"You seem to be on friendly terms with Hektor."

"Christian!" I exclaim, whirling around in surprise.

"Sorry," he replies with an apologetic smile. "I didn't mean to startle you... Are you looking forward to today's outing?"

"I had been..." I reply evasively. It wasn't completely untrue...

"I'm glad to hear it," responds Christian with a wide smile. "I have to say that it is one of my favourite parts of the social season."

"Because there are no boats in sight?"

Christian laughs. "Yes, that is definitely one of the reasons. But it is also one of the less formal events in the calendar and also a chance to enjoy the beautiful Cordonian countryside."

"Yes, it is breathtaking. Based on what I've seen from the Manor, anyway..." I add quickly.

I had no idea if Drake had told Christian about our outing yesterday, and I didn't want to get him into trouble.

"So, may I ask how you know my brother's stallion?" inquires Christian, stroking Hektor's face.

"This is Leo's horse?" I gasp in disbelief.

What had Drake been thinking – giving me one of the royal family's horses?!

That was like handing me the keys to his friend's Ferrari... without asking!

Christian nods. "Hektor here was a coronation gift from the King of Spain. A mount fit for a king."

"I'm sorry... I had no idea. Had I known, I wouldn't have taken him for a ride yesterday."

"It's fine, honestly," says Christian with a gracious smile. "Leo lives a different life now, one that doesn't require him to parade around on horseback, so poor Hektor doesn't get out as much as he should. Drake rides him sometimes when he has the time, but he has his own horse to attend to as well. So, I'm just glad he found himself a new rider."

Hektor bobs his head, as if in agreement.

"Wouldn't you want to ride him?" I ask, still not quite believing that Christian wasn't upset that I had ridden such a priceless horse without asking for permission.

"He is a magnificent steed to be sure," he replies. "But in addition to my own horse, I suddenly find myself in possession of four more mounts since my father announced his abdication, sent by countries from around the world to curry favour with the future King of Cordonia."

"I didn't realise that horses where such a common present."

"It's not just horses," sighs Christian wearily. "I've received all manner of gifts and tokens, most of which I have no idea what to do with. The Palace is already bursting with more works of art than most national museums and the royal vault is stuffed full of one-of-a-kind jewels and jewellery. It seems... excessive sometimes."

I nod in understanding, recalling Drake's words from yesterday. He had not been joking when he had said that Christian was able to wear the mantle of mind-boggling wealth without being obnoxious about it.

"And I'm guessing you can't sell or donate any of these gifts, as that would cause major offense."

"It would be an unforgiveable faux pas, for sure."

Probably because I am so sleep deprived, an unusual idea pops into my head. "Have you thought of opening your own museum?" I ask. "That way, instead of gathering dust in some forgotten cabinet, all the priceless stuff could be put on display for the world to enjoy. And, because you'd still retain ownership of it all, you wouldn't end up insulting anyone."

"To be honest, it is not something that I have considered," muses Christian. "But I like the idea. After the coronation, I will definitely look into it. But in the meantime, I am happy for you to have Hektor if you enjoyed your ride with him."

"Are you sure no one else wants to ride him?"

I had no idea how horses were going to be allocated for the upcoming Hunt. And I didn't want to step on any toes, even though I had genuinely enjoyed my outing with Hektor – the one highlight of my otherwise miserable day yesterday.

"Not as far as I know. But if anyone objects, just tell them to bring up the matter with me."

"Thanks," I reply sincerely. "He and I got on like a dream."

"I'm sure Leo would be pleased to hear it."

"Hey, Chris!" calls Drake, striding down the gangway with Lone Star's gear. "Your horse ain't gonna saddle itself, y'know!"

Similarly to yesterday, he is wearing jeans, cowboy boots and a soft cotton shirt, rolled up at the sleeves. He looked effortlessly hot — as usual — and my gut wrenches painfully at the sight of him.

"Then you'd best get to it, hadn't you, mate?" replies Christian with a grin, clapping Drake on the shoulder.

"Ha! Nice try, buddy, but I don't work in the stables no more. You can saddle your own damn horse!"

"I suppose I should get going," admits Christian as he turns back to me with a lope-sided smile. "We don't want to miss the Hunt."

Flagging down a passing groom, he instructs, "Saddle up Lady Harper's horse, please. She'll be riding Hektor today."

"I don't nee—"

"Of course, Your Highness," says the groom, dropping into a quick bow before scurrying off to the tack room.

"I'll see you out there?" asks Christian, dropping a kiss on my hand.

"Yeah," I reply, hoping that I don't sound as dazed as I feel.

I was perfectly capable of tacking up my own horse, and had actually been looking forward to the quite time with Hektor before the start of the Hunt. But Christian had apparently decided — whether out of a misguided sense of chivalry, or otherwise — that I wasn’t allowed to perform this simple task by myself…

…and that usurpation of agency grated on me.

In part because I hated being treated like a delicate flower who was incapable of doing even the most basic thing by myself. And I knew in the back of my mind that that was not the reason for Christian’s actions, that he was just trying to be polite and helpful. But it was diametrically opposed to the implied trust and confidence that Drake placed in me at every turn — letting me loose in the capital, giving me a firearm, handing over the wheel of a yacht, as well as leaving me to manage my own mount.

And that realisation just reinforced my conviction that I wasn’t meant for this very different world that I’d inadvertently stepped into.

The groom reappears with Hektor's saddle and bridle and proceeds to tack him up with practiced efficiency.

I stand around feeling useless, but then I catch a familiar scent of bergamot and cedar from behind me and I stiffen involuntarily.

"Gale," nods Drake as he leads Lone Star past.

He keeps his expression neutral, but his eyes betray his true feelings — a mixture of desire and regret swirling in those soulful mocha depths.

"Walker," I mutter dejectedly.

Was this what we were reduced to? Greeting each other as if we were strangers?

"Your horse is ready, my lady," advises the groom, leading Hektor out of his box.

"Thank you," I reply morosely, taking the reins from him and making my way outside.

During the time I had been in the stables, the courtyard had filled to the brim with horses, nobles and staff, all scurrying back and forth, making last minute preparations for the Hunt. Due to the early start, servants were navigating the crush, offering silver trays loaded with hot apple cider and pastries to the participants.

"A refreshment, my lady?"

"Oh, yes!” I reply, snatching a couple of apple turnovers from the server's tray. I wish they had coffee on offer, but beggars can't be choosers and there was no way that I was going to make it through the ride without something in my stomach.

"Lady Harper! You look very sporting today."

"Rashad!" I exclaim around a mouthful of pastry, recognising my dance partner from the Snowball. "Nice to see you again!"

"The pleasure is all mine, Lady Harper," he replies, dropping a kiss on my hand.

"Oh, please, you don't need to be so formal," I demure, wiping the crumbs from my face with my free hand.

"Need a hand?"

"Yes! A leg up would be great!"

Drake was nowhere in sight (and seemed determined to avoid me today... which was probably for the best, but it still made my stomach churn with disappointment) and I couldn't see a mounting block anywhere, so I might as well take Rashad up on his offer to help me get onto Hektor.

I stow the second pastry between my teeth to free up my hands as Rashad helps me into the saddle before mounting his own horse lithely.

A hunting horn suddenly sounds, and everyone falls silent. Turning my head, I spot the King and Queen astride their own mounts, both of them looking very regal in their military-inspired riding habits.

"Good morning everyone!" greets the King. "I am pleased to see that so many of you have made it out of bed for today's early start!"

Polite laughter ripples through the crowd.

"As you all know, this event is truly a historic one. Because even before there was a Cordonia, the inhabitants of this land would rise with the sun to feed their families. And while our habits and practices have changed since those bygone days, and we no longer need to rely on the bounty of the land to sustain us, each year the Royal Hunt follows one of the historic hunting trails to remember our kingdom's rich traditions, and the sacrifices of those who came before us. So, as our ancestors used to say, let us away!"

The crowd erupts into a frenzy of clapping, shouting, and hooting.

The horn blows again, and the King and Queen turn their mounts towards the start of the trail. There is a bit of awkward shuffling among the assembled nobles as everyone tries to get to the front of the queue.

While Hektor tosses his head impatiently, I hold him back, knowing that there is no point trying to force our way into the press. Eventually, the crowd thins and Hektor and I join the Hunt near the back of the line.

"I know, bud," I mutter as Hektor pulls on the bit, wanting to go faster. "But this looks like it's going to be a slow slog."

We were following the same trail that Drake and I had ridden yesterday, though at a fraction of the speed.

Hektor snorts in disapproval, but continues to plod dutifully along, being the well-trained horse that he was.

Since I was at the back of the line, after I finish off my second turnover, I pass the time alternating between people watching and enjoying the landscape come to life as the heat of the sun burns off the last remnants of the morning mist.

I spot Hana engaged in conversation with Kiara and Penelope near the middle of the line. Even though I did not particularly like either of them, I was happy that Hana seemed to be coming out of her shell and making more friends. Meanwhile, Bertrand seemed to be having a heated conversation with Maxwell, probably about the impending ruin of their house. Drake was still nowhere to be seen, though he could've just ridden ahead.

I sigh, wishing I could do the same, as the mind-numbingly slow pace was lulling both Hektor and me to sleep.

"Harper!"

I snap to attention at the sound of my name.

"Where did you get that horse from?"

Glancing up, I can see Olivia glaring at me accusingly from atop a powerful-looking Friesian that looked more suited to a medieval battlefield than a leisurely trail ride.

"The stables," I retort, probably with more force than was strictly necessary.

"And who gave you permission to ride it?"

"Christian."

"Ha! Funny!" she snorts. "As if he would let someone like you ride his brother's prize stallion!"

"If you don't believe me, ask him yourself."

Her eyes narrow dangerously. "Oh, believe me, I will. If that snake Madeleine ever releases him from her poisonous grip."

Looking up the conga line of horses, I spot Madeleine laughing daintily at something that the King had just said while Christian tries to smile politely.

"The King and Queen seem to like her," I observe, watching the Queen whisper something to Madeleine.

"No shit!" spits Olivia vehemently. "The Amaranths are wealthy and influential... not to mention on a first name basis with the royal family. She's playing dirty, using her relationship with the Queen to spend time with Christian."

"What do you mean?"

"You really are clueless, aren't you?" scoffs Olivia. "Madeleine's mother Adelaide is Regina's cousin."

"Is that a problem?" I ask. "After all, you've been exploiting your 'special relationship' with Christian..."

"It is when the Queen can use her position on the Council to swing the vote in Madeleine's favour. Everyone knows that she has been grooming her little cousin since she was out of nappies to become queen one day."

I stare at Olivia incredulously. "Then what is the point of this stupid competition if it's basically already been decided?"

"Oh, it's far from decided. The Queen may have a number of Councilmembers in her pocket, but there are plenty of influential nobles who do not want to see an Amaranth on the throne. I being one of them."

"You have a seat on the Council?" I gasp.

"Of course," she smirks. "Every noble family does, and I am the head of my house."

"So you're just going to vote for yourself?" I ask in disbelief. "How is that fair?"

"Nobody said it was," she replies. "Court politics are a dirty business and we all must use whatever advantages we have to further our interests."

"Unbelievable..." I huff.

This place genuinely was a real-life Game of Thrones!

And the more I learned about it, the less I wanted to have to do with it.

*            *            *

After several hours in the saddle, thanks to the snail's pace that the nobles had set for themselves, we arrive on the outskirts of an idyllic little village in the valley where Drake and I had stopped to water our horses yesterday.

"Everyone!" calls the King. "We've reached our hunting lodges. Our forebearers would dine on the day's hunt here, and though we no longer hunt, we still celebrate our ancestors by honouring their traditions. Please, take some time to rest and refresh yourselves. The feast will begin shortly."

"Oh, mon Dieu!" I hear Kiara exclaim as she veritably falls off her horse. "This was worse than ice skating..."

"I can't feel my legs..." agrees Penelope, sliding clumsily to the ground, getting a foot caught in the stirrup in the process. "Argh!"

"Hold on!" I cry, jumping out of my saddle to help her. I may not be BFFs with Penelope, but I wasn’t going to just stand by while she injured herself — or her horse.

"Thanks, Harper!" she exclaims, twisting her freed foot gingerly.

"No worries," I reply. "Though next time, take both feet out of the stirrups before you dismount. That way they won't get stuck."

"I'll... try to remember that," she blushes.

As she hobbles away, no doubt to find Kiara, I step back to Hektor to tie the reins to the hitching post before loosening his girth so he can be a bit more comfortable. He heaves an appreciative sigh before bending down to chomp on the grass at his feet.

"Yeah, food definitely sounds like a winner right now," I agree, patting him on the flank as I step out behind him to try and figure out where I was supposed to go.

"Out of my way, commoner!"

"Whoa!" I exclaim as I feel someone wrench me out of the path of Tariq's horse.

"You okay?"

"Yeah..." I breathe, finding myself in Drake's arms, my heart thundering in my chest from the close shave... and our sudden proximity.

"What's with you and horses, girl?" he drawls, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face. "That's the second time you almost got trampled..."

"Not intentionally..." I protest.

He scoffs. "Your track record says otherwise..."

"You saying I'm a magnet for trouble?" I ask softly, tilting my face up to him.

I knew in the back of my head that we were supposed to keep our distance from each other to avoid a scandal — especially at such a crowded event — but I did not want to let go of him just yet.

"The worst kind..." he murmurs, causing a shiver run down my spine. Dropping his gaze, and his hands, he says, "We should get to the feast."

"Yeah..." I reply, pulling reluctantly away from him. "Thanks, by the way."

"I have your back, Gale," he assures me. "Just because we can't make this into something more doesn't mean I'm gonna stop looking out for you. I... care about you and I'd never forgive myself if I let something happened to you on my watch. And neither would Chris."

I feel some of the tension that had settled over me yesterday ease a bit. "That... that's good to know."

I had been worried that in a bid to play things safe, Drake would try to ghost me completely... but it seemed that his promise to Christian to keep an eye out for me outweighed the concerns that he might have about us getting caught together.

Drake nods in acknowledgement. "Now, let's get going before we're missed."

I fall into step behind Drake as he leads me towards the chunky-looking trestle tables that had been laid out in a large semi-circle around a roaring bonfire. The smell of sizzling fat permeates the air, and I could see that several smaller fires had also been set up, over which various meats were being spit roasted.

"Harper!" exclaims Maxwell as we approach. "There you are! Bertrand was convinced that you had gotten lost during the ride."

"Nope," I reply. "I'm still here. Looking forward to eating though."

"The food does smell delicious," agrees Hana.

"Unfortunately, I have bad news on that front," declares Christian, stepping up to our group. "Just got word that it would be an hour at least before we can eat."

"What happened?" I ask.

"The villagers had trouble getting the fires started, so the roasts are behind schedule," he explains, a wry smile flashing across his face. "Apparently the spirits of the nearby ruins had something to do with it..."

"Oh!" exclaims Hana. "I've heard legends about those ruins! Apparently, they were a place of pilgrimage were people travelled to from far and wide to perform magical rituals during pagan times. They're supposed to be magical."

Drake scoffs. "Sounds like a bunch of superstitious crap to me..."

"...or a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to go ghost hunting!" enthuses Maxwell. "I've always wanted to meet a ghost!"

"You��do know that ghosts aren't real, right?" I ask pointedly.

"Thank you..." mutters Drake under his breath.

"Well, ghosts or not, the ruins definitely sound interesting," Christian admits. "They are a piece of Cordonia's history that I wouldn't mind learning a bit more about, especially since we now have a bit of free time on our hands."

"Me too," agrees Hana.

"Guess we're going exploring," I surmise.

"Yay!" trills Maxwell. "Another adventure!"

Drake merely rolls his eyes.

The story continues in Chapter 29 - A Ruinous Hunt

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[starlit-dreaming]

[WMMAP] Débutante Dance

Fandom: WMMAP Rating: G Ship: Lucathy Summary: A “what if Lucas was at the débutante as Athy’s Emperor-Approved, Pest-Repellant Partner?” Canon-Divergence. Note: This is posted under “Lucathy Misc Tidbits” on Wattpad and AO3! This is part of my Lucathy Alphabet Writing Challenge that I totally didn’t forget in my drafts to collect dust

A | B | C | [D] | E | F | G | H | I | J | K | L | M | N | O | P | Q | R | S | T | U | V | W | X | Y | Z

——————————

D is for... Débutante

——————————

“My apologies for interrupting your discussion, Your Highness,” Lucas pleasantly smiles as he cuts in, preventing Ezekiel from whisking her off for a dance. “Princess Athanasia, I do believe that I promised you a dance?”

“Ah, yes, I was hoping to find you, Lucas,” Athanasia beamed, immediately recovering from her surprise from Ezekiel’s appearance and Lucas’s offered escape. “Perhaps another time, Sir Alpheus,” she stated politely as Lucas offered her his arm, allowing her to hold onto it as they moved to the dance floor.

Lucas glanced up, making eye contact with Claude who narrowed his eyes in clear distaste. Briefly, Lucas wordlessly tilted his head over at Ezekiel’s direction, and as Claude’s eyes followed in that direction, he outright glared when he spotted the young man who was clear in his pursuit of Athanasia. Athanasia felt exasperated at the silent interaction between the two as she maintained her fake smile, opting to take note of everyone’s blatant stares.

And, well, Athanasia supposes that it was only natural for them to gain everyone’s interest. She was a beautiful princess and Lucas was a gorgeous bachelor, and apart from her father, Lucas would be the only other man that she’ll be dancing with.

Naturally, to everyone in the ballroom, the Royal Court Magician and the Crown Princess were to be considered a clear match.

(She tries to ignore how that fact makes her heart flutter.)

And frankly speaking, it was very clear that all the noble ladies would be immediately taken by Lucas’s gorgeous charms — despite how frustrating that might be, as they’re deliberately being deceived. It didn’t help that his outfit indicated his high rank within their royal court.

Lucas wore a light grey button-up with a dark grey vest and a maroon necktie. The dark grey vest he wore had a pink rose with a boutonnière of tiny white flowers in his upper vest pocket, matching the flowers that Athanasia wore in a subtle manner, alongside the pale gold-coloured detailing. He wore a mage's robe, draped over his shoulder as he so often does, but the robes were grander than his usual default — black on the outside, a dark royal blue on the inside, pale gold lining, and the Obelian Empire’s insignia was sewn clear onto the back. It was similar to Felix’s outfit, yet more subtle and less knightly, an outfit that could probably allow Lucas to somewhat blend into the crowd of nobles if he so desired without the use of magic. There was a gold chain hanging loose out of one of his pockets, and Athanasia immediately knows that he actually kept the pocket watch she had given him once.

The colours he wore was a clear indication down to its design — a magician of the royal family who was, undoubtedly, Princess Athanasia’s débutante partner. It didn’t escape anyone’s notice that the red jewellery the princess wore was a matching red to the magician’s eyes.

Despite the amount of rumours that will undoubtedly come out from this, she was still relieved that he was here at her side.

“Thank you for your help, Lucas,” Athanasia stated with a smile as she and Lucas danced, almost as if they were in their own little world. It was much easier for her to dance with him, they’ve been dance partners for years, after all. “I didn’t know how to reject his offer for a dance without seeming rude.”

“Honestly, you should just say it. Stop concerning yourself with dumb things like that,” he huffed, twirling her. “His Majesty would gladly destroy those who treat you with familiarity when they’re nothing more than strangers who want to gain your favour. The only reason why he hasn’t tried to destroy me is due to the fact that he knows that I’ll be repelling any pests that bother you as well as remain loyal to you and you alone.”

“You do have your uses,” Athanasia acknowledged with an amused tease. “You forget that you’re also an important friend and confidant for me.”

“Friend?” Lucas blinked, staring at her with surprise.

“Of course,” Athanasia raised a brow, seeming almost offended at his questioning tone. “You’re my first friend. Isn’t it obvious that I care about you?”

“Right,” Lucas slowly nodded, his eyes never straying from her.

[moinstar]

Commissioned light_arin from Twitter a birthday fic I had in mind. And also commissioned a collab with Lemonatii again for the illustration. I hope you enjoy reading it!

Moin MC x Diavolo (self-indulgent fic)

A comfortable silence hung in the library, the quiet interrupted only by the sounds of pages turning as Satan and Moin studied together. A satisfied smile graced her features as she finally finished a troubling math problem on her homework. She looked up, pride swimming in her brown gaze, planning to show Satan the fruits of her efforts. Before she could call for his attention, her gaze dropped to the book that he was focused on.

Instead of a grimoire or an anthology that he usually read during their lunch study routine, he was looking intently at a book of cats. She held back a giggle of amusement, taking in how focused he was on the page that talked of house cats as she leaned against the desk.

“Is that a book about house cats, or cats in general?”

The Avatar of Wrath looked up in surprise, as if he had just remembered that he wasn’t alone before turning a page of the book. He gestured towards the newly visible pages, a picture of a tiger displayed along with a couple paragraphs that listed the facts and features of the large and powerful cat.

“It’s a compilation of all breeds that classify as a type of cat. I was reading it for… research purposes.”

He glances down at the book, turning back to the page of house cats. A closer look showed Moin the different breeds that were listed, along with common behaviors and biological factors that set the breeds apart.

She idly traced a figure of a white cat, tilting her head as she mulled over the subject.

“All breeds, huh? House cats are cute, but I personally like bigger cats. You know, like the tiger you just showed me, or lions, or leopards…”

Satan looked up when she paused, noticing the excited glint in her gaze as she seemed to get lost in her thoughts about the larger cats that ruled the wild. He lifted his hand to his chin with a thoughtful hum before flashing her a smile. The action brought her attention back to the present, and she gave the fourth born a questioning look. He held up a finger, silently asking her to wait, before he picked up the book once more. Moin watched curiously as Satan flipped through the pages, wondering what he was looking for.

“What are you looking for?”

“Ah! Here it is.”

In answer to her question, he handed her to the book that was now open to a page that showed a magnificent panther. It looked strong yet graceful, with a dark black coat and golden eyes that seemed to jump off the page. Her fingers traced the outline of the large cat, a small smile tugging at her lips as she whispered in amazement.

“It’s beautiful.”

“Humans sometimes call them the ghost of the jungle, claiming that there’s no concrete evidence of their existence. In reality, they’re just very rare, and tend to keep to themselves.”

“Have you ever seen one?”

“Not personally, but I have seen pictures.”

They continued to talk about the black panther, so focused on the picture in the book that they didn’t notice the presence of Diavolo and Lucifer walking by the library. The Demon Prince’s golden gaze lit up with interest at the sound of their voices, deciding to tune out Lucifer’s nagging about paperwork. A quick glance into the room allowed him to see Moin’s look of awe and interest as she spoke of the panthers.

As Diavolo continued to walk through the halls of RAD, he turned the snippet of the conversation over in his head. He knew Moin’s birthday was coming up, and he wanted to do something special for her. His golden gaze lit up as he remembered the excitement in her voice when she spoke about the panthers. With an idea of what to do, he sent a text to Moin, asking her to meet him in his garden the night before her birthday party.

In the library, the redhead was still looking at the panther, her attention shifted to the piercing golden gaze. It seemed so familiar, hypnotizing, just like… She was shaken out of her thoughts by the buzzing of her D.D.D., surprised to see a message from Diavolo.

Speak of the devil. He probably wants to have an early celebration before the brothers pull me every which way on my actual birthday. With one last glance at the black panther, she pushed the book back to Satan, sending a quick yes to Diavolo. She settled down to study once more as she tucked her D.D.D., the hypnotizing golden gaze still lingering in her mind.

---------------------------------

The night before her birthday arrived quicker than she had expected, and before she knew it, she was walking through the halls of the palace with Lucifer and Barbatos. The Avatar of Pride had insisted on accompanying her when she told him plans, claiming that he had business to attend to anyways. The Demon Butler had greeted them upon arrival, with his usual polite demeanor before letting her know that Diavolo would meet her in the gardens. She followed the two demons, adjusting the large maroon scarf she wore to protect herself from the cold nights of Devildom.

Her gaze wandered around the gardens as they approached the gazebo, slightly confused when she realized that Diavolo was nowhere in sight. Noticing her confusion, Barbatos stopped and turned to her with his polite smile, his arm held in front of his torso, the image of a perfect butler.

“The Young Master will join you shortly, Moin. Lucifer, if you’d please come with me? There was an issue found in the paperwork that we looked over today. If you’ll excuse us.”

Moin nodded, half her face hidden by her large scarf, as Barbatos held his hand to his chest and gave Moin a bow before leading Lucifer away. It was unsurprising that they had work, the Royals and Lucifer always seemed to be taking care of one issue or another. She turned to face the water that reflected the night sky beneath the gazebo, settling down to wait for Diavolo’s arrival.

Moments later, Diavolo was leaving his office after speaking with Lucifer and Barbatos. His red coat was nowhere to be seen, leaving him in his collared shirt and slacks, his red tie contrasting with the overall dark shades of his outfit. His golden gaze glimmered with excitement as he hurried towards the garden, unwilling to keep Moin waiting for long.

When he finally reached the gardens, he paused, a smile tugging at his lips as he caught sight of Moin’s figure in the distance. Fortunately for the Demon Prince, her back was turned to him and he was able to hide in the shadows, preparing the surprise that he had planned for her.

Moin’s attention is drawn away from the glimmering body of water, the feeling that she was no longer alone washing over her. Assuming that Diavolo had arrived, she looked over her shoulder. Only to find something she had not expected.

Despite looking into a glowing golden gaze, it wasn’t the one that belonged to the Demon Prince. She turned around fully, watching in surprise as a large black panther padded out of the shadows. She tilted her head, wondering how a panther had ended up in the palace gardens as she took in the features. The graceful cat was standing still, as if waiting for a signal as its tail swished over the ground.

Is it… dangerous? She blinked a couple times as she mulled over the question, her brown hues never leaving the golden orbs that seemed to glow in the darkness. No. This is Diavolo’s garden. And he wouldn’t let in anything that would hurt me.

As she came to her conclusion, she let herself relax, smiling at the black panther. She reached out a hand towards the beautiful creature, crouching down so that she was at eye level with it. The panther blinked, as if in surprise, before slowly making its ways towards her.

With every step, its muscles rippled under the black pelt that shone in the moonlight. Yet, it moved with a sense of gentleness that further put the girl at ease. The panther’s whiskers twitched as the golden eyes shut, its head butting against her hand.

The feeling of soft fur against her palm brought a smile to her face, and she cautiously scratched behind the ears. A quiet woosh reached her ears as she pets the panther, and she looked up to see the tail swishing against the ground once more as it weaved around her, each step bringing it even closer to her. Its friendly advances made her smile grow, and when the large cat sat on its haunches, she wrapped her arms around it, fingers continuing to brush over the soft black coat. At this, a purr rumbles from the panther’s chest, obviously pleased as it rubbed its head against her cheek, making her giggle.

The panther blinks at her, and for a moment she swore it was smiling at her. Then the panther was giving her one final headbutt, still purring as it pulled away.

She watched as the panther started to leave, once more admiring the way its pelt gleamed beneath the night sky. When it reached the bushes that lined the area, it paused, one paw raised in the air as it looked back at Moin one last time.

The moment seemed to last forever, the golden orbs captivating her. Then with a flick of its ears, the panther disappeared into the shadows as easily as it had appeared.

It took a few moments for Moin to realize that the panther had really left, but before she could stand up again, she once again felt the presence of another. Glancing up, she found herself looking into the golden gaze she had originally been expecting. The Demon Prince was looking at her with surprise as he offered a hand to help her up.

“Moin? Why were you sitting on the ground?”

She accepted his hand, letting him pull her up as she smiled at the memory of the panther. Her brown hues were filled with excitement as she recounted her experience, starting with how she had been surprised to see a panther in the royal gardens.

The Demon Prince listened with a soft smile on his features, relief and happiness washing over him. She liked his gift. The effort of using transformation magic had been worth it. His gaze softened as he took in her awed smile, and the excitement that swam in her brown depths.

Yes. It had all been worth it.

[seacottons]

Silent Song of the Sea

Yeosang’s lured and drowned many humans in the sea with his captivating voice. Fortunately, Wooyoung was deaf.

pairings: yeosang x wooyoung, san x reader

wc: 24k+

genre: siren!au, medieval times, royalty!au

warnings: supernatural beings, disabilities, language, blood, angst, gore, fluff, graphic violence, minor character death, domestic abuse, mental abuse, verbal abuse, implications of suicide, emotional trauma, mental health issues, unprotected sex, crazy reader(?), shiny yeosang

there was a problem with the html, so i had to reupload this. : (

You were twelve years of age when news broke out in your town of a boy who washed up on shore, along with a broken and tattered rescue boat. Chowing down on your breakfast in the dining hall amongst the other orphans, you overheard a few of the workers speaking about the young boy who spent days in the hospital, the town wondering where he came from. It was later that afternoon, when you were huddled with the rest of the other children in the yard that the director bought the young boy to introduce him to everyone. You struggled to peek from the taller children to catch a glimpse of the male, but you were shoved back slightly, the boys in front of you sneering, “Watch it, pipsqueak.”

Wooyoung was twelve years of age when he witnessed a young, tiny, frail child squabbling with a pair of boys. Gasps broke out within the group of children as a fist flew, followed by the crying of one of the young children. Wooyoung’s curious eyes never left your form as you were forcibly dragged inside by your ear, your fist smeared with the boy’s blood. You appeared to be shouting and stomping your feet in retaliation as you were dragged into the housing facility.

It was later that week when you were walking down the hall back to the children’s living space, when you noticed a group of four children surrounding the new kid, who huddled against the wall, beads of tears pooling in his eyes. “Why don’t you talk!” the tallest of the bunch growls in frustration, “You’re no fun at all!”

“Maybe he’s just stupid?” another girl quips, flicking her forefinger against Wooyoung’s forehead, sending the four into a pit of laughter and teasing. A wet squelch broke the train of laughter, and Wooyoung’s jaw dropped at the sight of the opened closet, brooms scattered onto the tiled floor, and you thrusting the wet, dripping mop into one of the children’s faces. Chaos ensued; a squeal of protest from one of the girls, loud footsteps, and bickering filled your ears. “(Y/n)! What do you think you’re doing!?” a worker tugged the mop out of your grasp, tugging you up with an arm securely fastened onto your tummy. You twisted in her hold, palms jutting out against her jaw in protest as you struggled to escape her grip.

“They were bullying Wooyoung!” you cried, and the four kids could only cower and deny your claims, their eyes flashing with fear, “Yes, you were! He’s crying! You said he was stupid!”

The worker stilled, and her eyes narrowed at the four children. A sigh escaped her as she settled you down, a stern expression painting her features, “For once, I think I’ll let you go. As for you four, to the director’s office. Now.” 

You laughed smugly at the sight of the four trudging begrudgingly behind the woman, and you gasped in realization when you remembered the young boy. When your head snapped in his direction, he flinched, eyes wary and hands hurriedly reaching up to wipe his tears away. 

“Y’know, you should really learn how to fight back,” you started, “They deserve a broken tooth or two.” He stared back at you, eyes flickering nervously as he fidgeted in place. You frowned, trying again, “Are you scared of them?  I mean, Minjae is ugly— I would be scared of him too.” The boy’s gaze  mirrored that of the gaping fish that stared at you from their tank in the director’s office. 

You quirked a brow, arms crossing in front of your chest, “Okay. You don’t have to fight. I’ll fight for you. Just say my name, and I’ll be there. I’m (y/n).” Wooyoung’s hesitant hands reached up point two fingers at you, and he shook his head while cupping his hands around the shells of his ears. Suddenly, you understood, face leaning uncomfortably close to his as your jaw dropped, “You can’t hear me!?” You understood when his hands made a motion, your brows raising up in curiosity, “Oh, you use sign language? I don’t really know that. I can draw for you, though. Come on, I’ll show you!”

You were permitted to walk around town for a few hours every day before dinner, and the first place you wanted to visit was the library, much to Wooyoung’s confusion, “My friend, San, owns this library! I mean- his mom, but I’m pretty sure they have a sign language book here we can borrow! San taught me how to write and read, y’know. Maybe we can find a book on how to find your memories too! Oh- wait.. I forgot, sorry. You can’t hear me,” You attempted to use hand signals to display your words, but Wooyoung only chuckled at your failed attempt. You swiftly pulled out your tattered sketchbook, and after a few messy, stick figure drawings, he nodded in acknowledgment. You were met with the sight of San helping his mother place a few books in the high shelves of the library, you bellowed out his name loudly, startling both him and his mother. The woman only giggled underneath her breath whilst her son was quick to shush you with a stern glare, “(Y/n)! You’re in a library!” His gaze suddenly drifted the boy behind you, who wore a similar outfit to your own, freezing immediately and grumbling lowly, “Why are you with one of the orphan boys? I thought you said they’re all gross?” His mother scolded him quietly for the choice of his words, and sent her a pout in return, “Stop embarrassing me in front of my friend!”

You quickly explained to both of them Wooyoung’s lack of memories and situation, and and how you insisted on learning sign language to communicate with him, not noticing San’s eyes narrowing in on the nervous lavender haired boy. San’s mother nodded, smiling and reaching over to ruffle your hair. You caught a glimpse of purple and blue marks underneath the sleeve of her shirt as she told you to wait while she searched for the books you needed. A faint speck of purple was also seen on San’s tummy as he reached up to gently push a book back in place.

“We’re not partners in crime anymore if you’re going to replace me,” San grumbled, fingers idly tracing the spines of the books to his right. “He’s not replacing you, dummy,” you cried defensively, tugging Wooyoung by the wrist and startling him, “He’s going to join us. We can even let him in on our secret.”

San’s eyes rounded comically, before they narrowed, finger jutting out in accusation, “You wouldn’t. We agreed it’ll just be us two taking over the world.” “But he probably wants to go on adventures too,” you offered, “Please? We’ll be like the three muskrats!”

“I’m not letting anyone join our pirate club, no,” he crossed his arms, voice firm and head tilting to the side in protest, “And it’s musketeers, not muskrats, you bum.”

San’s mother returned with a stack of books for you, explaining everything you needed to know. She tugged on your cheek, laughing brightly at the sound of your protest as you shyly swatted it away, “It’s very mature and thoughtful of you for doing this, (y/n). You can come here every day to practice with San. He’ll make time to learn with you.”

“Learn? I never agreed to have extra lessons!” It was later that week that the town of Aurora held a coming-of-age ceremony for the young prince on a Friday night. He was a few years older than you, and you’ve caught glimpses of him every so often when you hung out with San in town. 

Wooyoung, San, and you dressed appropriately, with your town’s traditional garbs. Mrs. Choi, bless her soul, took the three of you shopping beforehand, explaining how today was a very important day for the town and the royal family. San appeared miffed at his slicked back hair, and Wooyoung appeared to enjoy to the texture of the garments as his hands wouldn’t stop rubbing the silky, colorful material, fingers tracing the numerous embroidered floral patterns on the cuffs of his sleeves.

Mrs. Choi left the three of you to walk about, only if you promised you wouldn’t get into trouble. With a bag of silver coins, you three tromped between the crowds, visiting different booths to ogle at the treats displayed. The town was illuminated with an array of colorful lights hung from building to building. Signs and images of the young prince were displayed on every wall, pole, and building. As you munched on your roasted corn, guards of the royal family barked at the crowd to make space for the carriages and other matching guards to pass through. San tugged your sleeve and pointed to the golden palanquin held by four, large guards, the maroon velvet curtains tied to the corners, exposing the young boy sitting peacefully inside. He smiled at the crowd, turning left and right to wave as the guards marched in between the two parallel lines of people.

Whilst San was attempting to remember the hand signs to explain to Wooyoung was happening, you squinted, standing up on your tip-toes to have a better look at the prince. You clambered up on a wooden box, smiling in satisfaction at the better view, before peeking down at the two boys, “Why is the prince wearing such an ugly coat? It looks weird.”

“Watch your mouth, kid.” “That coat is the skin of a siren. It is a symbol of honor and bravery, brat.”

San paled at the harsh words, glancing nervously at the glares of the nearby townspeople, before swatting at your calf with a harsh whisper, “Moron, you can’t say things like that about the royals in public! That coat is tradition for the royal family!” Rolling your eyes at his exasperated tone, you offered a hand to Wooyoung, motioning him to stand with you to get a better view of the all the action. San attempted to follow suit, huffing in anger when he found no space for him to stand. Reaching for the pole beside him, he swiftly shimmied himself up, silently thanking the swordsmanship classes he was forced to partake in.

The prince’s eyes examined almost every face in the crowd. He met yours, and despite hating his attire, you couldn’t help but blush at the piercing gaze. You could’ve sworn his eyes widened at the boy beside you, but you didn’t have time to ponder as Wooyoung signed for you that he was hungry. You paused, eyes squinting in thought, before recognition flashed in your mind.

You nodded, pointing to his belly, to which he nodded in agreement. You dragged a reluctant San and a happy Wooyoung through the crowd, unaware of a pair of eyes lingering on your three forms.

Two months later, San began finally warming up to Wooyoung, much to your pleasure. To finally welcome the newest addition to your ‘Pirate Adventure Club’, he presented three twine bracelets, all with one cowrie shell intertwined in the middle,”Pirates give these to their friends, so they’ll never be apart no matter what.” “I don’t remember that in the pirate guidebook,” you mumbled, blinking at the boy.

“I made it up,” he grumbled bashfully, helping Wooyoung tie the twine on his wrist, “Don’t tell Wooyoung I said that, or else he won’t think I’m cool anymore.”

At fifteen years of age, both San and yourself became proficient at sign language, so much so that sometimes you would often find yourself teasing him with foul signs rather than doing so verbally. He would shove you away, red ears and furrowed brows as Wooyoung laughed beside him, “Stop polluting Wooyoung’s head with that nonsense!”

The three of you became infamous in town. The Troublesome Trio.

When San first informed you about the given title, you cackled, asking who in their right mind came up with that ridiculous name. He shrugged as the three of you walked within the town’s square, Wooyoung quietly observing the pigeons huddled near the center fountain, “You're the one who always picks fights, and Wooyoung and I have to always save your ass, so maybe that’s why.”

San insisted on paying a visit to one of the small antique shops in town, promising to find rare trinkets owned by pirates that washed up on Aurora’s shores. The town was still bustling even in the evening, young kids chasing each other around the neighborhood alleys, vendors charming passersby with their pristinely washed produce, mountains of different colored spices, dry fruits and nuts. Other merchants were determined to attract arrays of customers by displaying the colorful, locally caught fish, eel, and crustaceans on beds of ice. Cats sat idle in every corner, their big eyes fixated on the fresh fish.

 Dry herbs hung from many of the tea shops, and vibrant fabrics blew gently with the soft breeze from the textile shops. A young man carried around baskets of fresh bottled milk, whilst another prepared slabs of butter and goat cheese for the market-goers, charming the people past with his smiles and beautiful notes, the seagulls crying overhead joining in the melody.

“Hey, guys. Look! Isn’t that Pipsqueak and Stupid?”

You furrowed your brows, lips pursing in an attempt to bottle your anger. You knew that obnoxious voice anywhere, and it was a surprise that a boy with a disgusting attitude like him found a home with a willing family. You hoped it was the last you would see him three years ago, but there he was, sitting on a barrel, legs spread and a cocky smirk on his face as he pointed to you, along with two others you recognized from the orphanage. You can tell from the way San’s shoulders stiffened that he intact did hear, eyes still glued ahead of him as he led the way to the merchant’s shop. “Hey! Is your boyfriend still too stupid to attend school?” Sometimes, you were grateful that Wooyoung was deaf, because you knew words like that would crush him. Despite lacking the sense of hearing, he picked up on skills much faster than San and yourself combined. San’s mother helped you learn math, and you quickly learned to hate it. Wooyoung, however excelled at such a pace that it left even San’s mother surprised. San also taught him techniques he learned during his swordsmanship classes, and now, not only were the two taller than you, but broader as well.

“I’m talking to you! Don’t ignore me!” A rock pelted against Wooyoung’s neck, startling him. San’s jaw dropped, his eyes widening in shock. Your eyes burned with disbelief at the sight of the smirking boy, who proudly adjusted his school uniform’s tie, silently bragging about how privileged he became after being adopted by one of the wealthier families in town.

Your hands grasped one of the thin wooden sticks of the fruit stalls beside you, the owner barking at you in protest, stuck behind the stand dealing with a few confused customers. San’s hands flew to grasp your elbow, a concerned Wooyoung gazing at you from behind him in confusion, “(Y/n)! Don't! He’s not worth it!” he insisted.

“Let me,” you spat, tugging your arm away and stomping towards the taller male, “I’ll stake him like the squealing pig he is.”

The three boys hunched over in laughter at your empty threat, nudging each other and surrounding you threateningly. Minjae threw his backpack to the side, hands reaching up to crack his knuckles, “I don’t hit kids, but since all you are is an angry demon no one wants, I don’t think anyone will mind me giving you a bruise or two. Maybe I should knock Stupid’s head too. He’ll probably start hearing afterwards, yeah?”

San protested, yelling out your name and sprinting to defend you, but before he was halfway across the cobblestone path, you threw the wooden stake aside, relying on your hands to pulverize the taller male in front of you. He tugged at your hair as you tackled him down, hands tugging at his tie, and aiming a punch at his nose, the sound of gravel crunching beneath your wrestling forms. The two of you rolled repeatedly on the cobblestones, feet kicking and fists flying, “You piece of shit, how dare you say those things about Wooyoung! I’ll rip out your tongue and feed it to the seagulls!”

Vendors and customers paused to watch the squabble, kids pointing and ushering their parents to see the commotion. You shoved Minjae onto one of the glass doors of a shop, the raised threshold clipping his ankle, leading to fall backwards into the glass. He growled, head snapping up to meet the eyes of his two friends, “Stop staring and help me out, cowards!”

Their faces grew pale at the sight behind the cracked glass doors, and after sharing a look, they nodded and hastily retreated. A look of disbelief washed over Minjae’s face, and your snicker only boiled his anger even further. With a growl, he tackled you down harshly onto the floor, your eyes widening at the sudden lunge. You didn’t even care at the taste of blood on your busted lip as you struck him in between the legs, eyes furious as you shoved him off, hands reaching up to wipe at your mouth,“Can’t handle a pipsqueak by yoursel—”

“What’s going on here?” Your eyes flickered to well polished shoes behind Minjae’s figure, traveling up to meet the eyes of the prince, crown shining in display, golden coat and pristine white leather sparkling underneath the golden hours of the evening. His face grew even more handsome since the last you’ve seen him, jaw becoming sharper, and eyes more mature. Behind him stood a taller male, hair as striking and vibrant as the crushed geranium flowers Mrs. Choi uses as rouge, “The Commander won’t be happy to hear about this, will he, Minjae?”

Minjae’s eyes widened in recognition, scrambling up to grab at his fallen backpack, his form tripping as he scurried off in fear. You stared at the gloved hand offered to you, and you gladly accepted it, the older male pulling you up onto your feet, “Ah, aren’t you that trio..”

His eyes trailed from your small stature to San and Wooyoung, his brown eyes lingering on the latter a bit longer. You dusted your attire, snorting at the sight of your panic stricken friends, “Yep. Just getting rid of rats on your streets, Hongjoong,” while not personally knowing the member of the royal family, you found comfort in the fact he wasn’t that much older than you and your friends. Surely, he’s just like other kids beneath the silk, leather, golden garments and dazzling jewelry.

The red-haired bodyguard, who didn’t seem that much older than you and your friends, glowered with piercing eyes at your smaller frame, disbelief clouding his eyes at the insolent behavior. 

San slapped his forehead, exasperation lacing his voice as he shouted in your ear, “He’s royalty! You can’t just call Prince Hongjoong by his name, (y/n)-”

Hongjoong lifted a palm, shaking his head, a gentle smile gracing his features, “That is quite alright. I don’t mind. Mingi here calls me Hongjoong, as well. It makes me feel.. ah, young, perhaps? Right, Mingi?” he swiveled his head slightly to eye the stoic guard.

“You’re not even that old, though,” you began, earning you a glare from both San and the prince’s bodyguard at your informal tone. Wooyoung awkwardly held onto your fallen hat, eyes trained on the prince’s mouth in order to attempt to read his lips.

“Ah, yes. You are correct,” Hongjoong simpered, white hair delicately styled and falling into his eyes as he spoke, “but when you have princely duties, it makes you forget that you are still so young.”

There was a hint of sorrow in his voice that you detected, one so subtle and faint like the salty smell of the ocean encasing your town. The smile he wore didn’t exactly reach his eyes, his lips stretching too wide for it to be out of genuine content. Your bloody lips parted, eyes wide as you spoke, softly this time, “You’re still a kid before you’re a prince. You should live a little and have fun every once in a while.”

He offered you a white handkerchief at the glimpse of blood dribbling down your chin, chuckling at the sight of your stunned and flushed expression at the sweet gesture, “You have a point, but maybe I will attempt something other than fighting.. rats in the street.”

His smile sent your face and neck flushing in embarrassment, and you were quick to wave him goodbye as he was pulled away by a few of his guards. Watching the carriage disappear, you failed to notice San glowering at you beside you as you ogled at the disappearing horses, “(Y/n), you can’t just keep picking fights like that. Must you always seek trouble?”

“He asked for it.”

‘(Y/n) is a bad influence. Don’t get any ideas, please,’ He signed to an amused looking Wooyoung.

‘Don’t worry, I won’t.

Your brows furrowed, watching the two exchange words silently, your arms crossing in annoyance.

‘Assholes.’

“(Y/n)!”

— At seventeen, the three of you came to conclusion just how cruel and dangerous the beings that lurked in the sea were. San had a rough night with his father again, and with his mother’s insistence, he joined you both to the beach to clear his mind of the suffocating negativity that filled his household. 

A large, canvas umbrella shielded the three of you from the blazing sun. Even from here, the sound of the town’s clock tower chiming, signaling noon, can be heard. San’s head rested on your lap, his straw hat covering his face as he dozed off to your fingers gently running through his dark locks. He was exhausted after hours of swimming and playing volleyball with other kids your age. Sand coated the skin between his toes and a small baby seagull occasionally circled around his legs, curiously eyeing the bag of chips you were sharing with Wooyoung.  

The other male sat to your right, attempting to sketch the shore and moss covered rocks that broke the waves’ paths. He absentmindedly sipped on a bottle of juice, brows furrowed in determined concentration, his back littered with specks of sand from being buried up to his neck by San.

Peering up from his half completed sketch, his eyes were drawn onto the tiny boats and hardy people paddle boarding yards away from shore, despite the occasional gusts of wind. The waves crashed loudly into the clusters of rocks, foam spraying high in the air with every roar of water. The blue waters of the ocean were so clear that often times children would run around chasing the languid fish that found themselves swimming past their feet near the shore. Pebbles and other tiny marine life can be spotted on the sandy bed, the webs of sunlight dancing on the surface. 

A sudden flash of a purple fin stopped him in his tracks, his eyes squinting to make out the form. Another turquoise tail fin breeched the surface, but just as quickly dove back into the water. The two paddle boarders paused, glancing curiously at the two heads that rose from the water. 

Wooyoung watched in confusion as the men dropped their paddles, jaws slackening and frames growing stiff, as if in a deep trance. It happened too fast for his mind to register clearly, but one second the men are standing on their boards, and the next they’re both diving in hastily. His eyes rounded, fingers losing their grip on his bottle, the pomegranate juice spilling onto his sketch, startling you. Before you asked, your head snapped to the direction of his gaze, but you wish you hadn’t.

“Is that a siren?” you heard out in the distance.

A blonde haired creature’s mouth suddenly clamped down onto the screaming man’s neck, angular teeth piercing the skin and severing veins and muscle as he threw his head back roughly, red flesh intact in his mouth. Red liquid glugs from the victim’s lips and the severed carotid, pumping red into the ocean. 

The screams were so shrill you swore they could curdle blood.

Claws pierce the man’s eye-sockets rupturing the globes with a sickening pop, the left eye dangling only by the stubborn, red optical nerve, leaving behind a bloody and empty pit. The siren’s unforgiving lashes met the victim’s face, sharp and jagged nails tearing the man’s visage and shredding his jaw.

Moments later, the creature dives into the water, turquoise tail flashing just before its disappearance. The corpse is suddenly tugged down with such intensity that the red seawater swashes roughly with a loud plop, sea foam being the only indication of movement. Feet away, his friend is met with the same fate. 

The tails breached the surface near a sailboat, the people in it suddenly halting their movements while listening to the sirens’ voices. Wooyoung didn’t need to hear the screams of the people swimming nearby. The wave of fear washing over everyone present at the beach was enough indication.

He gaped in horror, his eyes watching as the beach goers pulled frightened children out of the water, others frantically grabbing their belongings and rushing in hoards for safety, clouds of sand left in their wake. Sandpipers and seagulls flew amongst the crazed crowd, disturbed at the sudden chaos around them. 

San suddenly jerked awake at the sound of a loud siren ringing from one of the pop shacks at the beach. He sat up in surprise, hat falling into his lap, and hand clutching his chest in surprise.

“What happened!?”

That night, the King sent guards around town to announce the banishment of swimming and other ocean sports, threatening anyone who broke the law to be executed by enforced drowning. A team was sent to the beach to pick up the torn flesh and limbs of the victims that washed up on shore. It was a horrid sight, the stench of death prominent and wafting through even the smallest crevice of the town. 

The three of you paid a visit to the vigil honoring the five people killed that day, the images of the brutal deaths haunting both Wooyoung and yourself in your sleep. The two of you joined each other on the lower bunk, arms coiled around each other for a source of comfort no one else could provide you with. The once vibrant atmosphere of the bustling town was replaced with an eerily quiet one- one that was stained with an ugly shade of fear and melancholy. — You were eighteen years of age when were moved out from the orphanage to a facility that housed other orphans, agreeing to partake in labor to help provide for both yourself and the establishment. Wooyoung soon joined you, and as much as you wanted for him to be with a family of his own, you were still happy he stuck around with you. He felt like family. 

The two of you landed jobs aiding fishermen catch and deliver the locally caught fish to merchants and markets. You rolled the sleeves of poofy tunic up, fastened the tied cloth around your waist and winced at the sudden gust of wind that blew your wide-brimmed hat off your head in an instant. 

It was a typical day on the fishing trawler. You were miles away from the coast, Wooyoung and yourself aiding the fishermen haul fish into different compartments, picking out the other creatures that were caught along with the school of fish. A storm battered the ship, but not enough for the helmsman to steer the ship back to port, despite the crew’s growing concern. 

Wooyoung grasped your elbow as you slipped onto the deck, waves crashing against the sides of the vessel. You thanked him with a nod of acknowledgment, hand shakily grasping the railing, brown boots sliding with every sway of the boat. He pointed to the hatch, hoping you’ll understand his implications without the use of hand signs. He was clearly fed up with the lack of concern from the fishermen, urging you with his eyes to crawl inside for safety. 

You opened your mouth to word out a reply, when a sudden jerk to the left caused you both to lose your grip. Wooyoung’s hands stabilized himself against the deck, his face scrunched in pain at the impact of his fall, watching in horror as the vessel tilted dangerously, a wave impelling the sides and sweeping you away with it. His hand flew to grasp your foot, only managing to graze the bottom of your boot in the process.

He was quick on his feet to inform the closest person about you falling overboard. His hands desperately clutched the orange lifebuoy, throwing it to where he spotted your head bobbing within the harsh waves. 

You met his gaze, hands reaching to grab the ring, when you felt a clawed hand grasp your ankle. In the time it took you to knit your brows in confusion at the sensation, you suddenly gasped in realization, earning you only a few more milliseconds of air before you were swiftly plunged down into the raging ocean. You were welcomed with the deafening roar of your heartbeat in your ears and the burning sensation in your sinuses. Beams of sunlight occasionally shined within the raging waters before they disappeared behind the dark plumes of clouds.

You hadn’t properly prepared to take a deep breath, your mouth parting open in shock at the sight of a beautiful, black haired man. Your stunned eyes were suddenly drawn to his puckering gills and outstretched smile, showcasing rows of sharp, pointed teeth. The purple fins on his neck and forearms shimmered with every flap and movement. 

He appeared to laugh as he teasingly swam around your frame, circling and eyeing you like prey. The delighted smile on his visage stretched wide, resembling the evil creatures drawn in the folklore books you read as a child. His iridescent, violet tail and fins tickled the skin of your neck, and your lungs began burning with the lack of oxygen, the subtle sounds of waves crashing joining in with the loud drumming of your pulse.

“My, my,” he chuckled, dark hues locked on your panic stricken face, “I didn’t even have to sing to get you to come to me, little human.”

The two of you were suspended in a neutral state of buoyancy, clouds of marine life occasionally passing by. Your blood ran so cold that it felt more like being electrocuted than anything else. You had to get yourself out immediately, before the lack of oxygen kills you or before the siren rips you apart like ribbons.

One second he was eyeing you curiously, and the next you struggled to escape his hold, teeth snapping and threatening to bite your neck open, your frames swaying with the waves’ thrusts, even from below the surface. Your mind had no time to keep up with your body’s involuntary actions, your fingers digging harshly into the gaps of his gills and clawing desperately in an attempt to escape. 

Your movements weren’t as clean and swift as they would’ve been on land, but your frenzied mind paid no thought. He winced at the onslaught of scratches, pulling away to clutch at his neck in pain, giving you the briefest amount of time to swim up, your arms securely wrapping around the ring and shouting up with a desperate cry. Waves rocked your frame, the water sloshing harshly around you, and hope slowly trickled in as you felt the line tug upwards to safety.

 As soon as your legs surfaced the water, the same hand breached past the waves, long nails digging into the skin of your calf, before getting caught in the buckles of your brown boot, slipping it off with ease as the siren fell back into the water. Beady eyes glowered at you as you were hoisted up the ship.

Arms were wrapped around your frame as soon as you landed in a wet, bloody heap on deck, Wooyoung’s concerned face invading your vision. His eyes flew from your leg to your bleeding, bitten hand, and finally your face. From the raindrops pattering his skin you couldn’t tell if he was crying or not. He held you so tightly against his frame, fingers coiling into your wet locks, his chest heaving heavily in panic. Your widened eyes could only stare straight ahead, arms weakly tangling around his form.

Four years later and you were left with lumpy, jagged scars on your left leg and hand. There was no action taken against the fishermen that you worked for, though. You didn’t have the money or means to do anything, so Wooyoung and you decided it was best to change the tasks you were meant to complete. Delivering fish from the ports to the markets instead of helping the fishermen at sea was a much better and safer option.

The two of you fell into the same boring routine. You heard mockeries under people’s breaths regarding the two of you- how nobody wanted to adopt you due to your troublesome behavior, and Wooyoung due to the fact that he was deaf. You wanted to beat the nonsense out of the people who spoke ill of you, but you knew in doing so it would prove their point. Over the years, you have calmed down, though. Only slightly.

Grumbling to yourself, you trudged up the narrow cobblestone path, Wooyoung by your side. The two of you carried nets of freshly caught fish, ready to be displayed at the fish market. The streets were mostly empty, the orange rays of the sun filtering out the darkness as it ever so slowly broke past the horizon, golden beams shining onto the numerous white and seaglass-blue buildings. You passed the formal gardens, your eyes glued to the plumes of vibrant colors showcased behind the copper gates, wondering what it would feel like to have a picnic with your friends there. San will love it, his love for flowers inherited from his mother.

‘I’m going to smell like fish all day,’ You signed to Wooyoung, your posture and facial expression giving away your feelings even beforehand.  

His biceps flexed as he adjusted the bags in his grip, unable to reply back as his hands were full. His sleeveless shirt displayed his toned, tanned arms, leather pants fitting quite nicely on his form. You knew he was teasing you as he took larger and quicker strides, leaving you behind. You waddled your way after him, your protests quite literally falling on deaf ears. 

You traded the fish for a sachet of silver coins, making sure to count the amount before your departure from the seafood market. On your way back to the docks, you stopped to grab a loaf of freshly baked bread and tea, offering the taller male walking with you. Elderly women can be spotted hunching down to tend to their rice fields, wide brimmed hats shielding them from the rising sun.

 Children began walking down the streets, dressed in the typical blue and white school uniform. You occasionally wished that Wooyoung and yourself grew up with those privileges- only worrying about upcoming tests and what meal you’ll devour after coming back from school. Despite the tiring labor, Wooyoung and yourself at least had each other’s company to enjoy, and you were grateful to have him by your side every second.

Overall, the waters were quite safe since that incident that occurred five years ago. The fishermen treated you both very well, always slapping at Wooyoung’s broadened shoulders and biceps playfully. They often teased you about being in a relationship, but quickly learned the sibling dynamic between the two of you. Wooyoung’s nose always scrunched in distaste at the memory.  

It was noon and the two of you finally finished your daily fish delivery trips. You decided to pay San a visit at his family’s library, his nose immediately scrunching up while he greeted you at the front desk. 

‘Would it kill you two to go shower before you visit?‘ he signed in annoyance, fingers then clamping around his mouth and nose.

You attempted to hug him, and he hastily backed away in his seat, a book smacking you in the arm in retaliation, a strangled sound emitting from the back of his throat, “Stop, (y/n)!” 

“But I missed you, Sannie,” you frowned, pulling Wooyoung forward by the elbow, ‘Wooyoung wants a hug too.’

‘You won’t die if I don’t hug you,’ San shook his head, propping the frames on his nose a bit higher, giving you two a pointed look.

‘Yes we will,’ Wooyoung protested, a pout finding itself onto his features, earning him a glare from San as you cackled,’Are you ready for the competition later?’

‘More than ever. Too bad the brat can’t attend,’ Wooyoung snorted at the response, hastily covering his mouth as you gave him a swift, sharp look. It was no surprise that Wooyoung used his hard earned silver coins to enlist in San’s swordsmanship school, much to the other’s delight. Tonight was the end of the season’s competition, but to your dismay, you had errands to complete before the prince’s coronation tomorrow.

San was peeved at the idea of you not attending, but Wooyoung clearly saw the irritation being directed at the fact that you couldn’t attend because of the prince and not due to the errands you were forced to complete. He rolled his eyes whilst gazing at your mouths moving rapidly in a display of ongoing bickering. The two of you were so oblivious to each other, Wooyoung found it gross. Endearing, but gross.

Later that night, Wooyoung returned home to the housing facility, his nose scrunching up in delight as he proudly displayed his second place trophy in the air. Throwing your arms around his neck and shaking his frame excitedly, you laughed as he stumbled back from the sudden attack. 

‘I’m so, so proud of you!’

A smile found itself resting on his features as he tugged you close to return the gesture. 

He was beyond grateful to have someone that felt like family.

Wooyoung rubbed the small amount of rose water in his hands and brushed his fingers through your hair, giving it a gentle tussle. He adjusted the clips holding your hair in place, before eyeing your reflection in the mirror, throwing a thumbs up and proceeding to pinch your cheeks. Swatting his hands away in protest, you turned to examine yourself at a different angle,’Do you think purple suits me?’

‘Of course. Every color suits you.’

‘But do you think I look good in purple? Should I wear the blue one instead?’

‘I’m pretty sure San will love it. Two of his favorite-’

You furiously signed that you did not even bring San’s name into the conversation, and Wooyoung snickered at your flustered reaction. You hated how well he read you- how easily he read every feeling you attempted to bury and conceal. 

And you hated the fact that you had no confidence to confess your feelings in the first place.

The night of Prince Hongjoong’s coronation was much like the night of his coming-of-age celebration, only now Wooyoung and you were older— and being older meant partying harder.

Wooyoung watched you stumble into a pole, snickering and tugging you towards himself to stabilize your tipsy form. San shook his head as he walked back towards you with three sticks of fried pastry, his lips parting to scold you, “You're lightweight! You shouldn’t have drank so much, (y/n).”

Wooyoung has spent a good amount of time with the both of you, and after years of friendship, he often picked up on reading your lips as you two argued. He rubbed your shoulders in silent understanding, knowing fully well you downed that liquor in hopes of gaining confidence to actually look San in the eye and not have to deal with flushed ears and bickering to conceal your feelings. San in traditional garments was your utter weakness.

It had the opposite effect, really. You complained about his voice being too loud, and how the lights were too bright around you— how the smells of the street food were too strong. Wooyoung offered you a bottle of water, forcing you to down it all in one go in order to clear your mind a bit. He gave San a knowing smile as he watched from the sidelines, adam’s apple bobbing nervously at the sight of streaks of water cascading down from the corners of your lips and onto your neck, your clavicles glistening underneath all of the oil lamps illuminating the streets. Once catching the lavender haired male’s smirking gaze, the other silently scrunched his face in embarrassment, swiftly turning away to eye the closest confectionery shop.

Underneath the star-filled sky, the townspeople chatted amongst each other, many of them drunk and attempting to form dance circles in the town square. Many musicians filled the streets, the sweet and joyous melodies dancing in between every corner and alley of Aurora. A few women danced with delicate and sensual sways of their hips to the beats of darbuka drums and oud notes, hungry eyes watching their every move. The scent of tobacco and alcohol filled the air. An hour later, you felt better, mind clearing slightly. 

The smell of fresh pastries and milk custards wafted through the air, as you shared a large piece of cinnamon cake between the other two boys. Wooyoung stood up, informing you that he needed to buy water and possibly use the restroom. 

It was only when you were left alone with San, you suddenly felt like a small and helpless bug without Wooyoung’s presence and emotional support. You can face San on normal days, but when he’s dressed like this, hair slicked back, and the back of his ears and wrists shining with sandalwood oil-based perfume, your confidence crumbled into a mere speck of dust.

“You look pretty,” he started, voice quiet as his kohl lined eyes fixate on the cake between the two of you, “Purple suits you, you know?”

You scrambled to find a coherent reply, mind too frazzled at the sudden bold comment from the man across from you,. You needed to be casual, natural- needed to say something that won’t scare him off, or make you sound too desperate.

“You look hot when you spar.”

His eyes widened in surprise at your confession, jaw dropping in disbelief, cinnamon frosting and cake crumbs coating his cupid’s bow, and you suddenly wished you drank more of that nasty rum earlier.

Half an hour passed as the two of you awkwardly exchanged hints and implications of your feelings, when suddenly your brows furrowed, your frame rising up from your seat at the wooden table, “Okay, now I know for a fact that he’s lost. It’s been too long-”

“But he knows his way through town, (y/n). Besides, this is his favorite bakery— no way he’ll get lost,” San reassured, finger flicking the strand of hair that fell into his gaze. 

“I don’t know,” you sighed, hand running through your hair as you took a few steps away from the table, calling out back to him, “You stay here in case he comes back. I’ll go look for him, okay?”

After a nod of approval, you sauntered off among the sea of crowds searching for a mop of purple hair. You grew tired after half an hour of searching, even returning back to San in hopes that Wooyoung found his way back. When he saw dread fill your eyes at absence of the male, he stood up, cupping your your panic stricken face and telling you to calm down.

“You check the south, and I’ll check north, got it? We’ll meet at the same spot after half an hour,” he squeezed your shoulder and offered a small smile, “He’ll be okay. He’s Warrior Wooyoung after all. I trained him well.”

Fifteen minutes ticked by and you attempted to push down the heavy and negative thoughts invading your mind. This was not like back in the orphanage. Wooyoung was not the little, scared, helpless little boy. He was strong, brave, and—

You walked straight into a firm chest, hands reaching up to stabilize you as you stumbled back on your feet, head snapping up to apologize, “Ah, Pipsqueak. You’ve grown quite nicely since the last time I’ve seen you.”

Your eyes widened at the familiar voice, you hand immediately reaching up to swat at his arms, only for him to pull back defensively. Oh, how you hated the sight of his face and the sound of his voice. The gods must have loved Wooyoung for not granting him the sense of hearing, because you knew Minjae’s voice was disgusting enough to make anyone’s ear’s bleed. 

“Whoa- whoa! So hot-headed, still?” He laughed, eyes tracing every curve of your frame as he took a few steps back,”I see you’ve only psychically changed. But here,” he tapped his temple, broad shoulders on full display as he crossed arms,”You're still the same kid who was all bark and no bite.”

“I punched you, and you cried like a baby in front of the entire orphanage,” you stated matter-of-factly. 

The amusement in his eyes drifted away like the clouds blanketing the bright, full moon. You hated to admit it, but now that he was much, much taller than you, broader than you, and clearly stronger than you, it made you just a tiny bit anxious. You had no doubt that he’ll be able to manhandle you with just one hand, easily taking you down. A sneer met his features, “Ah, the day your idiot of a boyfriend was introduced to us, right? I heard you were also locked in the director’s closet as punishment.”

“Say that again, I dare you,” you spat back, mirroring his own sneer. He shrugged his shoulders, leaning back slightly against the wall beside him, as a snort of amusement escapes his  throat, “Why? Don’t like when I talk about him? Can’t believe Stupid grew up to beat me in second place,” he paused, as if contemplating his next words carefully, “It’ll be the last time, though. I can guarantee you that, love.”

Silence struck between the two of you.

You stared at his cocky smirk, his last words reverberating in your mind. His smile only broadened at the sight of horror and realization washing over your features. Suddenly, he found himself jerked down by the collar of his traditional garb, your hands itching to clobber that smile off his chiseled visage, “What did you do to him! Where is he!?”

He laughed at your attempt to intimidate him, gently prying your fists off of him as he patted the crown of your head in mock affection, “Don’t know. Maybe he’s partying, maybe he’s with San, or maybe..” he straightened his back, lips pursing whilst tapping his temple in thought, “..he’s being eaten alive by the sirens. Your guess, Sweetheart.”

You didn’t even realize you were already tripping on your feet to reach the docks in the southern part of town, Minjae’s amused laughter ringing behind you, your heart hammering in your chest as adrenaline surged through your veins. You pushed past drunkards, guards, adults, and hell- even children without a second glance or care in the world. There was no time to find San, the tears in your eyes flying into the air like tiny pearls as you flung yourself corner after corner between the blue and white buildings in a rush to reach the shore.

You will never forgive yourself if you didn’t find him alive. — Wooyoung was angered at his predicament. He should have known it was a trap, but he had a big heart, deciding to push his suspicions away when a lady asked him for help regarding her puppy at the beach. Well, at least that’s what he assumed when she pulled out a picture of a dog, pointing in the general direction of the harbor.

As soon as his suspicions surfaced, it was too late. She turned around so quickly, he had no time to react when she swung her heavy, straw bag onto his head, stumbling back and shielding his face. He was then ambushed by a group of men, who then proceeded to not only tie his wrists and ankles together, but also shove him in one of the smaller docked boats, working quickly to untie the thick ropes attaching it to the dock, allowing it to drift off yards away into the dark sea. 

Even during his delirious state, he didn’t fail to recognize one face in particular- the same face who glowered at him while he received the second place trophy yesterday night. Even with third place, Minjae still wasn’t satisfied, not when the kid he loved to pick on beat him at his own game, with much less training and practice. His ego was as easy to bruise as a banana.

With no paddle or oar, Wooyoung’s attempts to return back to shore with his bound hands were fruitless. As the boat drifted off even further, he flung his hands to grasp the edge of the jagged rocks, finger scraping against the barnacles and limpets that cracked underneath his steady grip. The blankets of green algae coating the rock causes his fingers to slip and slide, sharp points of the rocks and tiny mussels no help in aiding him whatsoever.

Panic and dread settled in his system, much to his displeasure. San taught him that a clear mind will do wonders when one in is in trouble, however looking at his situation now, it’s almost inevitable what will happen to him. He can barely make out the dock now, the glow of the town still visible from where he grasped onto the rocks for dear life, feet still bound in the boat. It was dark outside, people were busy with the coronation, and he couldn’t hear anything or anyone. 

The waves were strong and yet gentle at this distance, the boat rocking noisily against the large stones. The moon’s reflection in the water rippled, and a mop of blonde hair surfaced, startling Wooyoung suddenly. The being’s lips moved slowly, as if he were chanting calmly, eyes holding a mischievous fire within them. The man’s skin had an iridescent glow to it underneath the moonlight, specks of turquoise lining the sides of his neck and cheekbones. 

“Which human is stupid enough to take a swim at night during a full moon, hm?”

Pectoral fins on his neck flapped gently in the water, gill cavities visible from where Wooyoung stood. The being’s hair was reminiscent of the golden threads of the royal family garbs, and Wooyoung could only gape in sheer shock at the creature’s beauty. When he made no move to submerge himself in the water, the creature circled around the boat, brows furrowing in confusion. His lips moved rapidly now, shaping words Wooyoung had a difficult time deciphering, especially with such dim lighting.

From this distance, Wooyoung made out a large turquoise tail, which glimmered within the moonlight right below the surface of the water, and only then did he realize that the creature was the same one in the books he’s read about in San’s library as a child. However, this time, you weren’t there to fight the imaginary creatures on his behalf, and he was alone, stuck at sea along with said creature.The drawings did little to no justice in capturing the painful beauty of the beasts, though.

The siren’s lips parted, teeth so sharp like the daggers he trained with, anger now evident in his eyes as he swam much too close to Wooyoung’s comfort. “Why are you not abandoning your boat to come to me, you filthy human?” the creature sneered, jagged claws scraping at the edge of Wooyoung’s boat. 

Golden eyes widened as Wooyoung swatted the creature’s hands away in retaliation. The siren reeled back in surprise, shock enveloping his features as the human glowered down at him. Bounded hands or not, Wooyoung will not go down without a fight. If you were here, you would be proud, he thinks.

When the creature attempts to grasp the edge of the boat once more, tilting it down to capsize it, Wooyoung’s hands reach out to scrape long stripes onto the being’s arms, his scaly, slippery flesh cool to the touch. He made no attempt to smirk cockily at the shocked creature as it pulled back with a hiss. It still had the upper hand in this situation. Warily, the golden haired being swayed gently along with the waves, his eyes searching for an answer in the boy’s face. Turning hastily to eye the structure of the rock, Wooyoung contemplated trying to climb onto the high surface for safety despite his restraints. Maybe the morning sailors and fishermen will find him in the early hours of the morning.

“Ah, you’re quite boring,” he drawled in disgust, “I like them when they scream and cry.”

This is definitely a crazy one. Maybe Seonghwa will enjoy tearing him open instead.

Wooyoung startled at the noise that invaded his mind, frantically looking around for the source, only for his eyes to lock onto the back of the being’s head. Did he just hear? That was a voice, right? 

‘Are you talking about me?’

The creature was now far enough for the reflection of the moon to ripple between the two. 

‘Hey! Was that you speaking? How can I hear you?’

Wooyoung was certainly not expecting shock to wash over the being’s features, his lips parting in a silent gasp as he turned his head to gaze back at him over his scaly shoulder, golden orbs widening. Just who was this human?

‘How are you communicating with me telepathically? This is not possible,’ the creature made no move to swim closer, uncertainty in its eyes,’What kind of human are you, boy?’

Wooyoung didn’t know how to respond, the confusion in his eyes mirroring the creature’s,’I don’t know,’ his hands gripped the boulders roughly as a harsh wave rocked the boat. With desperate eyes, he pleaded to the creature,’Please help me reach back to shore.’

Wooyoung didn’t need to hear to know how amused the creature was at his words. Throwing his head back with laughter, golden strands glimmering with every movement,’A siren? Helping a human?’ he swam slowly to the purple haired male, golden orbs narrowing into a threatening glare as he spat his next words harshly,’I don’t help your kind. I find it much more amusing to rip you measly humans open by your throats, watching your life flash before your eyes as you choke on your blood, before you sink to the pits of the ocean where your pathetic wastes of bodies are gnawed on by sea creatures. You should’ve listened to the warnings in your bedtime stori-’

“Wooyoung!” 

The motion of the siren’s head snapping to the side bought Wooyoung’s attention up to that direction, eyes squinting to make out a figure struggling to make it past the onset of waves in a small coracle. Relief washed over him, his eyes widened in recognition, unable to wave his bound hands in fear of losing his grip of the rocks. 

“Oh, thank the heavens you’re—”

Knowing fully well he couldn’t hear you, you couldn’t help but shout in relief at the mere sight of his intact body. It was only when you noticed the head of blonde hair in the water that the oar nearly slipped out of your hands. In a desperate attempt to further the distance between Wooyoung and that damned siren, you were quick to whip your shoes in its direction, aiming for the creature’s head. 

“Get away from him!”

Wooyoung’s eyes widened at your actions, shaking his head frantically to get your attention,’Stop, you idiot!’ His face said it all, but you were too engrossed in yelling profanities at the creature, whose eyes flickered from the floating shoes and back to your heated face. When the siren’s lips curled back, sharp teeth glimmering in the moonlight to make his way to end your life, Wooyoung rushed to stop him, knowing fully well what will conclude if he didn’t,‘Stop! No! Don’t hurt, (y/n)! Please.’

‘One strange human after another. Give me one reason I shouldn’t snap this human roach’s neck this instant,’ the creature hissed underneath his breath, molten gold orbs furiously trained on your approaching figure. Wooyoung’s eyes frantically flickered back and forth from your outraged form and back to the crouching siren, whose face sunk in the water until he was eye level with the surface,’Well?’

‘(Y/n).. (y/n) is my lover?,’ Wooyoung threw in a white lie, wincing at the irrational thoughts he shared with the creature. Whether or not the creature knew he was lying, he hoped that was enough to deter him, even slightly. Golden eyes peered at him in faint curiosity, a scoff escaping the creature’s lips in bubbles, before he dipped himself fully underneath the water’s surface, swimming his way in your direction, ignoring the frantic thoughts of the purple haired male drilling in his mind.

You glared down at the creature underneath the water, whose amused eyes studied your seething form. You aimed the oar, plunging it down with a loud plop of the water. A laugh rang out behind you, and you found yourself suddenly tilting face first into the water. Your frantic swimming came to a halt when the creature circled around you beneath the surface, long turquoise tail curling around your frame in amusement. Beams of moonlight illuminated his iridescent face, which was mere inches away from your own, his lips stretching wide to reveal two rows of sharp, jagged teeth, golden strands dancing and framing his face beautifully. 

You refused to allow this fish to scare you– not like last time. It was that sudden impulse that prompted you to angrily tug at the fins on his neck, before you gripped his long, wavy locks back, fingers roughly digging into the gaps of his gills. 

If you had air, you would’ve laughed at the stupefied expression on his face, but before you made another move, his tail smacked you upside the head, taking you by surprise. He wriggled away from your grasp, swimming away and allowing the darkness of the ocean to engulf his figure. 

Breaking the surface of the ocean, you spotted a panic stricken Wooyoung, whose shoulders sagged in relief at the sight of your smiling face. You ignored the glare he sent you as you swam a few feet to retrieve the floating oar, before making your way over to his boat, struggling to climb in. You clung onto his dry form, hands cupping his face to examine it and his neck, looking for any sign of harm.

He struggled to sign words with his bound hands, his chin jutting in the general direction of the shore, silently asking you to start paddling. Golden hair and eyes broke the surface of the water yards behind the boat, watching you struggle to keep the boat steady and straight. ‘Visit me again, Human. You’ve intrigued me.’ Wooyoung’s head snapped back at the sound, but all he could make out was a ripple of the water. You found yourself hunched down, a jagged stone in hand as you attempted to slice through the hemp twine encasing Wooyoung’s limbs. The two of you walked to the nearby promenade, the low lighting of the lampposts around you not aiding your sight in the slightest. With the adrenaline now fading away, the reality of what just occurred finally began to sink in your frazzled mind. Your hands trembled as you sliced through, tears dropping in pearls onto the pavement. You were so, so close to losing the only person you called family. Was this the feeling of what having a family meant? The impending doom one feels when their loved one is in danger? You hated it. You loved Wooyoung, but you hated this foreign feeling. It was ugly and it tore you down from the inside out, disrupting your breathing pattern and train of thought. Off to the side, the gentle waters rocked the small dinghies and larger day boats nestled on the side of the promenade. The moon’s reflection was stunning against the calmer waters of this side of town. “Where have you been!?” San’s frantic cry snapped your attention from cutting the bonds around Wooyoung’s arms, and up to the confused, ebony haired male who hunched forward, clutching the wall to steady his breathing,”I checked the entire south shore! Minjae said Wooyoung-” “You best believe I’ll have him expelled from your school after the stunt he pulled,” you growled, finally tugging the last of the thick twine from the purple haired boy’s limbs, your hands still trembling with anger, before you hurled the stone against one of the smaller boats, the water rippling as it dropped down, “I’ll— I’ll kill him. I swear I’ll snap his neck in half- as soon as I get my hands on him I-.. I will squeeze his throat until he’s as blue as the ocean..” Wooyoung’s hands fisted around your lithe fingers, his arms pulling you into his chest tightly as you desperately gripped the back of his shirt, too afraid to let him go. San’s expression fell at the sight, his hands reaching to rub the both of your backs. ‘Are you okay?’ San pulled the other into a hug, hand cradling the other’s head tenderly. Wooyoung pulled away to nod, a silent storm forming in his brown hues, which you two failed to see past the anger and relief that washed upon reuniting with your friend. Later on, San happily visited you to inform you of Minjae’s expulsion from the swordsmanship program, the school stripping away all of the past medals he obtained. He was happy to have him gone and have you not behind bars for attempted murder. He refused to let you know where Minjae lives. — Peeling his eyes open, Wooyoung found himself submerged within the dark depths of the ocean. No marine life swam by, and strong beams of sunlight danced beneath the surface of the water. He kicked his legs and arms in an attempt to swim up to the surface. Strangely enough, he hadn’t felt the need for air. A few seconds before he breached the surface, a kind face hovered above the water, the person’s visage distorted with the moving water. A hand plunged down the water hastily, the pads of two fingers grazing his forehead ever so gently, before he found himself being dragged down to the ocean’s dark trenches by a strong force, his arm instinctively flinging up to try and reach the outstretched hand. He felt a scream slip past his lips as a clawed hand pierced through the flesh of his neck, dragging upwards towards his chin, the blood beginning to waft into the water around him. The manic laughter emitted from the creature practically curdled his blood, and his vision was suddenly overtaken by a set of teeth so sharp they resembled daggers. The creature’s jaws snapped so tightly around the junction of his nec— Wooyoung’s frame shot up suddenly. His chest heaved with rapid, heavy breaths, heart practically convulsing in his ribcage. Swallowing thickly, his wide, paranoid eyes scanned his environment, shoulders relaxing subtly as he took in the sight of the messy living space he shared with you. Beams of sunlight flickered through the curtains, birds chirping happily in the early hours of the morning. He heard your faint breathing from the bottom bunk, and he fluttered his eyes shut in relief. Throwing himself back, he gazed up at the chipped, stained ceiling, face and arms glistening with a sheen of sweat. The constant nightmares still will not hinder his decision to meet with the siren. He wanted answers. He needed answers. A month passed since the incident and Prince Hongjoong’s coronation, and you grew increasingly worried about Wooyoung. He appeared to be in his own world when hauling the nets of fish every morning, his eyes trained onto the ocean the entire time. The cries of seagulls could be heard as they dipped and soared overhead near the docked fishing trawlers. Your brows knitted in confusion as his gaze never left the vast expanse of the gentle waters, despite the most clouding the air. Just what was he searching for? You’ll study him a bit more before confronting him- that sounded like a good enough course of action Wooyoung also spent a ridiculous amount of time in the town’s library while he wasn’t training with San. While he loved reading with you and San when he was younger ( San and you took turns wither narrating or animatedly sign the words for him for a better experience in storytelling), he never really went out of his way to read on his own accord. He had shook his head when you asked if anything was bothering him. Even San couldn’t get him to reveal the cause of his sudden curiosity of the mythical sea creatures. You decided not to pry too much, instead focusing on completing more tasks to get an extra heap of silver coins before San’s birthday, silently promising yourself to buy him that golden cutlass sword he set his eyes on months ago. When Wooyoung wasn’t in either the library, or training, he sauntered off without informing anyone. You were worried at the sudden change of behavior, but after speaking with San, you came to realization that Wooyoung was an adult now, and he didn’t need supervision or protection like he once did as a child. You still couldn’t shake that gnawing feeling out of the pit of your stomach. ‘Is everything okay with you?’ you asked one day, book in your lap forgotten as you stared at him from your seat on the lower bunk bed. The smell of salt and sea lingered in your small space from the opened window in the back. He lifted his umber hues for the briefest second to watch you repeat the gestures before nodding with a half-hearted smile, turning back to his book on the small table in the corner of your one-room living quarters. Miffed at his lack of honesty, you crawled out of the space, book tossed aside as you roughly dragged the chair back to plop across from him, eyes searching his face for answers,’Where have you been going off to?’ Quirking a brow at your pushy and intrusive choice of words, he held himself back from rolling his eyes,’It’s nothing important. Don’t worry about it.’ He returned his gaze back to the book, lavender locks falling into his eyes. You swiftly snatched the book away from him, eyes scanning the page quickly before he practically jumps onto you, face contorted into disbelief and anger, his expression clearly asking you if you had lost your mind,’Why are you suddenly so interested in sirens? Why do you disappear for hours on end almost every single day?’ ‘I told you it’s nothing important. Go to sleep,’ anger was clearly evident on his features and his demeanor. He plopped down back into his seat, book concealing half of his face as his eyes flickered to you in frustration. ‘You’re trying to find that siren, aren’t you?’ He stilled, mind reeling at the accusation, before he snapped the heavy book shut with a loud slam, ignoring your existence completely as he made his way over to the ladder to reach his top bunk. You grabbed him by the back of the shirt, turning him around to point a finger in his face, relying on him to read your lips, the anger in your system seemingly unbearable, “Am I right!?” ‘Stop treating me like I’m your son. Goodnight, (y/n).’ He left no room for arguments, eyes void of any warmth at your nosy questions. You watched him crawl into his covers, his back facing you. Scoffing to yourself, you reached down to snuff the oil lamps, the sudden darkness of the room concealing the hurt expression that painted your features. Wooyoung didn’t bother exchanging words with you the next day during your fish deliveries. You glowered at his retreating figure as he just waved a goodbye. You thought it was best to ignore the brat, and instead focus on the errands left on your plate. The tasks you completed were mostly deliveries of goods, and cleaning the docks and beaches of the litter and waste the townspeople left behind. You grimaced as you picked up what appeared to be the remnants of a torn loincloth and a shattered bottle of rum, throwing it in the plastic bag you carried in your gloved hands. Turning swiftly back to the pile you created up the slope of the rocky area of the beach, a flash of purple froze you in your tracks. You blinked, but nothing was there. Furrowing your brows, you decided to investigate, just to make sure the sun hadn’t baked your brain and burned your eyes. Placing the parchment bag down to steady it against a sturdy rock, you padded your way towards the sea cave that the villagers always warned kids not to venture off into. The water reached your ankles as you hesitantly stepped into the quiet cave, beams of sunlight guiding you through the tunnel of rocks. You grimaced at the feeling of algae and barnacle on the wall, feet stepping cautiously onto the wet boulders. You turned a corner, eyes immediately catching sight of the opening on the top of the cave, which filtered strong beams of rays into the shallow, turquoise and blue waters of the cave. Not quite paying close attention to your footing, your ankle caught onto a chunk of seaweed, toes stubbing against a jagged stone. You yelped loudly, your voice echoing in the cave as you crashed into the waist deep water. Before the thought of getting up even crossed your mind, your eyes widened at the sight of the familiar siren, who bristled in front of you, the long, protruding rays on his frame flaring out in anger, claws and jagged teeth ready to rip you apart if it wasn’t the blur of purple that hovered above you with arms spread out in defense. A whistling hiss emitted from the creature as he peered at you from over Wooyoung’s shoulders, face contorted into a glare, “Wooyoung!? You—...” the pain from your fall was now buried underneath the rising anger that bubbled from within you. Pointing an accusing finger at the creature, you glared back, “You! I knew it! You seduced him! You’re trying to kill him, aren’t you?!” “How disgusting that you think I’ll reduce myself to seduce a human being of all things. I would much rather kiss a squid. I want nothing to do with you filthy pests.” You smacked Wooyoung’s calf in confusion, angrily signing at the sight of his embarrassed expression,’What are you doing here with a siren!?’ ‘Why were you following me?’ ‘I wasn’t! I was running an errand when I saw you come here! He seduced you. He sang for you, and you-‘ your hands just could not keep up with your racing thoughts. You opted to spit out your words, mostly for the siren to hear,“I’ll slice him like a trout and sell his flesh in the market- now move, Wooyoung,” you proceeded to step around the taller male, your bare hands clawing at the air as he tugged you back by the waist, the siren staring at you with a dull expression. “Crazy human,” he simpered at the sight of your frustration, “Your boyfriend can’t even hear me sing.” You kicked at the water at the smug expression of the siren, Wooyoung’s jaw dropping in disbelief, @He’s not my boyfriend, you putrid fish! If I find out you’ve hurt him in any way-” With a wave of his tail, you found yourself drenched from the head down. — Crossing your arms in anger, you leaned against the mossy wall of the cave, glaring holes into the siren’s head, as Wooyoung finished explaining everything, demeanor nervous and all as you rung your shirt for the third time to rid your attire of the seawater. Seagulls cawed around the roof of the cave, and small creatures climbed in between the cracks and crevices of the rocks surrounding you. Yeosang was leaning forward, arms crossed against a rock, chin tucked up onto his arms as his tail swished languidly in the water behind him. “Is it true that Wooyoung can speak to you telepathically?” you peered over the boy’s shoulder, quirking a brow at the bored siren, who was busy toying with a cluster of barnacle. He nodded, rolling his eyes as you asked for an explanation as to why that was possible. “Don’t know. Your lovely human friend here has been reading about it all month, and I can’t come up with anything rational either,” he threw himself back, eyes squinting as beams of sunlight flashed onto his face, “He’s been meeting me here to ask questions and learn about our kind. Curious little guy, but naive. It’s great that the runt has you following after him like a little sandpiper, or else I probably would have killed him that night.” He burst into a fit of mock laughter at your panicked expression, leaning back against a rock and crossing his arms over his chest, green, transparent gills dripping with seawater, “Kidding. I’ve never met a deaf human and a ..” he eyed you up and down, tongue gliding against his sharp teeth as he thought of a way to describe you, “Earth roach.” Wooyoung shot you a look as you attempted to grab a seashell to thwart it at the siren, “Why should we even trust you? You’ve killed too many humans. One of you attacked me too!” “You don’t have to trust me,” his tail fins swayed gently in the water as he threw a smirk your way,”Ah, so you’re that human that managed to escape from Seonghwa years ago? You left some ugly damage to his gills that day, y’know. Couldn’t sing for a week. He’ll be happy to know I found you.” “It’s against the law to interact with sirens anyway. I don’t want to see that bastard.” “Well, I guess I should call the King on you two for breaking the law? Or better yet, maybe I’ll tear you apart to see how you look from the inside. Red is my favorite color for a reason.” You rolled your eyes, tugging at Wooyoung’s elbow to get his attention. You urged him to go home with you and leave the siren be, but he wouldn’t budge, sitting down onto one of the dry rocks, hands grabbing at the forgotten book. You argued back and forth, exchanging glares of protest as he told you he’ll be fine. “He is a siren,” you cried, hands grasping his shoulders, face leaning in, “He will kill you!” ‘He would have killed me weeks ago, if he really wanted to,’ he defended, mirroring your own fierce glare. Twenty minutes ticked by, and you eventually gave up attempting to persuade him. Wooyoung was as stubborn as a rock. You decided it was best to just trust him, even if you did think he was insane for interacting with a siren like it was a friend. Like it was human. Like it had compassion and empathy. It was nothing but a blood-thirsty killer. His explanation just had no merit to it whatsoever. A month passed and Wooyoung wasn’t killed, so you assumed all was well. The last thing you expected was to see Wooyoung walk back into your complex, one late night, with disheveled hair and purple marking on his neck. The straw broom in your hands fell onto the floor with a loud clang, as you attempted to near him in suspicion. His hands hastily shot up to conceal the love-bites with the collar of his blouse, but your hands were quick to push them away. You glared into his eyes disapprovingly as his face flushed in embarrassment, “Please tell me it wasn’t him.” Anger suddenly washed his features as he read your lips. He pried your arms off, angrily shoving past you to reach the closet for a change of clothes. You rushed to stand in front him, arms crossed and features cold,’You can’t expect me to be okay with this. He’s a siren. You can’t love a siren. Don’t go see him again, please. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.’ ‘I’m not a baby. I can take care of myself,’ his gaze was cold. ‘I didn’t say you were, but I’m scared. What if he hurts you?’ ‘It’s because I’m deaf, isn’t it? You think the world is out to get me, and I’m not capable of handling anything by myself?’ You vehemently disagreed with his thoughts, but he left no more room for argument as he slammed the door to the bathroom shut, rattling the figurines on top of the wooden dresser you shared. The sound of the shower head was audible through the door as you furiously swept the remaining dust bunnies. This went on for about two more months The past two months have also been increasingly difficult for San and his mother at home. Your other friend grew somewhat distant and cold when you came to visit him at home. You didn’t need any explanation about his behavior. Mrs. Choi’s attempts at concealing the blooming blue and purple marks proved fruitless as she reached up to dust bookshelves, her shirt giving way to showcase the marks marring her skin. Her eyes seemed to always shine with a thin layer of tears, and her smile was forced half of the time.

San was aggressive whilst practicing and honing his swordsmanship skills, muscles burning in protest as he slashed at slabs of wood repeatedly, his cheeks rosy underneath the evening sun. Not even your arms tugging him away from the practice field sufficed in calming his raging nerves down, shouting at you to leave if you didn’t want to watch. There was a need to continuously grow stronger- you clearly saw it past his anger and frustration. He wanted, needed, to feel as if he had power over something. With a heavy heart, you nodded in acceptance, sitting off to the side to watch him burn himself out physically. He also partook in extra duels, so many that a limit had to be placed on how much he could take part in. During times like these, you realized being raised as an orphan was nothing compared to living with an abusive father. You only wished to stop feeling so helpless, wishing you could help carry the pain and exhaustion weighing San’s shoulders down.

One day, while the three of you sat together in a nearby cafe, he picked at his baked tart, eyes then darting from you quietly sipping your tea to Wooyoung who stuffed his mouth with a freshly baked croissant. The purple haired male wore a scarf around his neck, the sight of it only angering you slightly. San’s lips parted in hesitation, words dying in his throat as you glanced up at him curiously,”You okay?”

Wooyoung peered over at the ebony haired male, cheeks round with warm pastry and jam, his eyes blinking in confusion,‘Sorry, did you want a piece of my croissant?’

San snorted at the guilt ridden expression on the lavender haired male’s visage, an amused smile raking his features as he shook his head,’No. That’s fine,’ his hands hovered above his drink, lips pressed into a thin line, before he continued,’I realized I never thanked you two.’

‘Thanked us for what?’ 

‘I didn’t grow up having anyone to look up to. I only grew up knowing what I don’t want to be like. None of the children at school understood me, either. They often mocked my mother and I when they visited the library, sometimes smudging ink on their hands to resemble the bruises on her arms. They were evil, and for the longest time, I thought the entire world was as cold as they were. You two changed my entire perceptive of people, though. So, thank you. It’s years too late, but-,’ San’s bashful expression suddenly fell at the sight of the two pairs of glassy eyes,”Ah! What? Don’t even think about crying!”

—

Weeks later, and San had returned to somewhat of a healthier, emotional state of mind, spending most of his time either at the library with his mother, or training and dueling. Late nights walking on the beach also aided his frazzled nerves.

Wooyoung spent most of him time with Yeosang at the cave, and San had questioned you regarding his behavior one day when he paid you a visit, hands heavy with the dinner he helped his mother prepare. You gaped at him, chopsticks in mid-air as you gave him an incredulous look, “What? No, I didn’t reject him- I don’t even like him like that— oh heavens this is Wooyoung we’re talking about, San. He’s like a brother to me. You know that. He’s just..” What sounded reasonable enough for Wooyoung to spend more time away from the only people he considered family? What were you going to say? Picking up on San’s lingering suspicion, you placed your utensil down, sighing and ringing your fingers together as you gazed at him in contemplation, “I..” the words you wanted stuck in your throat. Swallowing thickly, you suddenly found interest in the noodles and fish on your plate, “You know I have feelings for you, and only you. No one will ever change that, San.”

You were aware of how heated his face had become at the confession, brown hues lifting to study your features warily, “Do you really mean that? Am I good enough for you?”

You push past the need to shoot him an incredulous look, instead opting to reach over to clasp his hands in your own, fingers coiling with his,”Of course, I mean it. You’ll always own my heart. It’s always been that way.”

“But I need you to tell me that I’m good enough for you,” he pushed his plate away, appetite gone as he stared stoically at you, his voice so small it sounded like a whisper,“Do you think I’m capable of protecting you? Or.. or even loving you? Am I?”

“You are. You’re more than enough for me,” you stood up to hug his head against your chest, his eyes locked on yours, stunned and almost teary-eyed, “You’ll always be enough.”

One moment you were busy eating dinner, and the next the two of you found yourselves entangled in each other’s embrace, exchanging feverish kisses and desperate, long-awaited touches that once only existed existed in your dreams, too insecure to turn them into reality. You kissed every mark and scar left from the hands of his father, murmuring gentle praises against his marred skin, his muscles rippling underneath your touch. His lips wouldn’t leave your form, biting and sucking at every expanse of flesh he could reach as he rocked into you, hands gripping your hips and waist almost possessively. 

He fell against your bare form in a heap, your conjoined bodies sticky and glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. His face was buried into the crook of your neck as he suckled onto a patch of your bruised skin, hot breath fanning against your already heated flesh as he whispered sweet, muffled promises against the shell of your ear. You felt his release slowly dribble from where your bodies met, your frame squirming at the sensation as you unwrapped your legs from around his waist, spreading them apart to allow him room to settle against your panting figure.

“I can’t believe you actually thought I was into Wooyoung,” you groaned in embarrassment as he littered your chest with tiny love marks, teeth scraping against your skin in the most pleasurable way. He chuckled against your supple flesh, and it’s then you realized you haven’t seen a smile reach his eyes quite like this in all the years you’ve known him.

The next morning, he expected to find a flustered Wooyoung at the sight of San sleeping in his home, but his sheets were still pristine and untouched, just as they were the night before. He questioned you about Wooyoung while you two shared a light breakfast together, beams of sunlight doing wonders to his chiseled visage and bed hair.

“Okay, I guess I’ve been keeping this away from you for too long, and Wooyoung didn’t want me mentioning it—” An inferno set ablaze in San’s eyes, and you internally scolded yourself for the lack of appropriate words. You hastily whispered before he had the opportunity to open his mouth, “He made friends with a siren, and-”

“With a siren!?” His spoon clattered in the bowl of porridge, splashing the table and the mug of tea. Your eyes widened and you slapped a finger to your lips, telling him to lower his voice, “What do you mean be quiet!? He’s with a siren, and you’re okay with that!?”

His hard gaze was trained on you, and an involuntary shiver ran down your spine. You parted your lips to explain, when suddenly, he pushed back his seat, chair scraping the floor as he made his way over to Wooyoung’s closet, throwing on the leather baldric he found and sheathing Wooyoung’s sword, before tugging his boots only to spare you a brief glance. You trailed after San, hands tugging desperately at his arms, but he refused to turn around and listen, “Listen, I’ve tried telling him, but he wouldn’t have it! Trust me, this is going to do more harm than good- He can hear the siren! They communicate telepathically and- and.. there’s no explanation to it but please- I’ve tried persuading him, but he’s too stubborn for his own good.”

“You..,” San paused in his tracks, turning around to give you a hard stare, eyes clouded with conflict. His lips parted, before they pressed into a thin line, shoulders tense with anger, “If you think I’m going to sit back and hope one of my best friends won’t die in the hands of a monster, then you must’ve lost your mind.”

The words stung, but you knew that was his irrational side taking over. A part of you knew you couldn’t blame him for rash behavior he’s grown from being around someone as horrid as his father, “You’re going to show me where he is, before I take this to the King and have that beast slaughtered.”

You were in for a lot of shit, and you didn’t know who to be afraid of most. San, for keeping this information away from him? Wooyoung, who made you promise you wouldn’t speak of this? Yeosang, who wasn’t that quite fond of you? Or King Hongjoong, who followed in the footsteps of his father, abiding by all the laws the older has set for the people.

When San stumbled into the cave, gently prying you off, his eyes burning with rage as he searched for a familiar head of purple, “Wooyoung!”

Flashes of confusion, betrayal, and anger sparked within Wooyoung’s eyes as he noticed the two of you, his eyes sending you a silent question as you noticed the glimmer of Yeosang’s tail underneath the dark waters.

‘You have gone crazy, haven’t you?’

Wooyoung chose to ignore him, pushing past his shoulder with the books he borrowed from the library tucked underneath his arm. If he recognized the baldric fastened on San’s torso, he made no implication of it. A furious hand clamped onto his shoulder, swiveling him back to face the the seething swordsman. San threateningly leaned into Wooyoung’s face, eyes raging with an inferno of anger and hostility. The purple haired male hesitantly bought a hand up to tug at the collar of his tunic, but San’s eyes already took note of the purple marks on the column of the boy’s flesh, “Are you fucking kidding me? You didn’t tell me he was intimate with it too!?”

“San,” you called out in annoyance, “Stop. He’s safe, you see? I told you Yeosang means no ha—”

A sudden flash of silver made you reel back in shock, your eyes widening at the sight of San brandishing his sharpened sword, the tip barely grazing the siren’s nose as the two froze to stare each other down. Wooyoung dropped the book he carried in surprise arms flying out to tug San’s weapon back, his own orbs furiously staring his friend down.

“Yeosang, leave!” You shouted amongst the commotion of your two friends, stepping around them to lightly push at Yeosang’s shoulders deeper into the water, “You’ll get killed! Leave!”

“Don’t underestimate me, little human. You’re going to regret the day you were born.”

Your eyes widened at the sight of his parted lips, swiftly rushing back to the other two, but you couldn’t call San in time to warn him, “Cover your-”

The sword clattered against the small boulders beneath San’s feet, eyes unfocused as the melodic sound of the siren’s call echoed within the walls of the cave, filling his ears. Wooyoung stared at his best friend’s face in shock, eyes flickering down to the sword, before he gazed at Yeosang in realization. He hesitantly watched San turn around in Yeosang’s direction, before he quickly wrapped a hand around the ebony haired male’s waist, tugging him back harshly,’Yeosang! Stop! I won’t let you kill him!’

Yeosang paid no mind to his friend’s protests, amused eyes flickering from both San and yourself, who struggled on maintaining your ears clamped with your hands. He raised his voice, lips quirking as your hands fell limp against your sides, eyes locked on the vast space in front of you. His hands itched at the thought of ripping the two of you apart from the inside out.

‘Yeosang! Stop!’

Yeosang’s voice was clearer than bells, and so devastatingly, hauntingly beautiful in your ears, and you wanted nothing more than to listen to it for years to come. Wooyoung’s panic stricken eyes flew over to your form as you trudged through the waist deep water, eyes unfocused and lips parted. He struggled to maintain a firm grip on San’s figure, who continuously clawed at the arms securing him in place.

Throwing San back against the mossy wall of the cave, Wooyoung madly dashed to tackle Yeosang down into the water, immediately ceasing his singing. The siren hissed in retaliation, nails dragging down the flesh of the hands clamped onto his mouth. He furiously swung his tail against Wooyoung’s ankles, pulling him down into the water. Snapping out of your trance, you were quick on your feet to help San up, hastily gripping the heavy sword away from his grasp. When he demanded you to hand it to him, Wooyoung shoved the both of you in the direction of cave’s entrance, furiously signing to leave immediately.

‘I’ll be fine! Just leave!’

A clawed hand reached out to slash at San, and out of instinct, you shoved yourself in between him and the siren, claws latching onto your ankle. Your immediate response was to pull away, flesh tearing underneath the sharp nails, a hiss leaving your lips as the salt in the ocean doing nothing to ease the pain of your opened wounds.

Wooyoung wrestled the siren down, hands clamped around his mouth, while he shot you two a look over his shoulder, eyes wild and void of any patience. San scoffed, hand wrapping around your waist to hoist you up on your good leg, eyes narrowed furiously,”You should have never stopped me from killing it–” “Shut up, San. If you had listened to me, we wouldn’t have been in—”

You emitted a groan of pain as your wounded leg brushed against the protruding edge of a rocky sides of the cave, hissing underneath your breath as you gripped San’s forearm to ease your mind off the burning sensation. Finally stumbling down onto the pebbled floor of the shore, you paused as San pulled away from you, “You go get help, and I’ll go back and-”

“You are not going back there! He will kill you, San. Get that through your thick head.”

“He nearly killed you, (y/n)! We left Wooyoung with that monster!”

“He’ll be okay, I promise. Wooyoung will be fine,” you groaned at the sight of red running down your ankle and soaking the sand underneath your foot,”Please, just fucking listen to me for once!” He stilled at your raised voice, and your eyes widened suddenly at the change of his demeanor. You quickly grasped his elbows, attempting to look him in the eye, “Oh, San- no. No, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for yelling- I forgot-”

“We should get your leg checked out,” he quipped firmly, avoiding your gaze as he proceeded to push you in the general direction of town, his shoulders and jaw tense with unresolved tension and anger.

— It was midnight, and Wooyoung still hadn’t returned home. Your one room living space felt too vacant without him sleeping on the top bunk bed you shared. Your ankle throbbed beneath the thick bandages, the smell of herbal ointment prominent even underneath the heavy layers of cloth.

You tossed and turned in your sheets for what felt like hours. The exhaustion and worry that clouded your mind prevented you from falling asleep. You quickly sat up, reached to light your oil lamp, before making your way out of your home to wander restlessly in the desolate streets, hoping to find the purple haired male.

You paused once you stepped around the corner of San’s neighborhood. Broken and discarded glass decorated the floor near his feet where he sat against the entryway of his home. The door hung by its hinges, splintered and shattered in some areas. You nearly dropped your lamp as you rushed towards the disheveled male, whose half-buttoned up, bloodied shirt, revealed glimpses of jagged scars left from his duels. Your eyes studied his visage, brows knitting in concern at the familiar, ghostly frown. His eyes spared you the briefest of looks before he dropped his gaze down to his bloody hands. Dried tear streaks and specks of red decorated his ghostly visage. The faint barking of a dog was heard streets away.

“It’s not mine. None of it is mine,” he mumbled, noticing your stunned gaze at the sight of red.

“They fought again?” you asked, already knowing the answer. He nodded silently, arms limp at his sides, “.. and she ran away again?” Another nod, and suddenly he found himself engulfed in your hold, tears streaming down his face as he held you close, face buried against the crown of your head. His resolve shatter quicker than any glass.

“I- .. I was angry, (y/n). I fought with him,” His voice was small and wavering, jumbled thoughts spilling rapidly from his lips,”the medics took him. He called me a bloodthirsty killer– but I’m..was it was defense? That’s not considered killing, right?” His breathing quickened, chest heaving as he struggled to steady his air flow, voice rising an octave as panic laced his tone,” “I’m not a killer, am I (y/n)? I am nothing like him,” his fingers tugged at his untamed hair in frustration, pupils quivering rapidly as he attempted to calm his racing and frantic heart, “I will never be anything like him. I need you to tell me that. Tell me I’m nothing like him!”

You pulled him inside and onto the couch, stepping over the fallen furniture, splintered wood, broken flower vases, and torn, embroidered, floral tapestries that littered the floor. Your eyes caught sight of a fallen, bloodied sword you recognized from San’s practices. Cold dinner filled plates lay broken near the flipped table. You held onto your broken friend throughout the night, consoling him repeatedly and wiping away his tears. You pressed numerous kisses onto his face, your hand running through his locks as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, years of agony apparent in his loud, torturous cries muffled against your skin. The sounds made your skin crawl in the most unpleasant way. You paused only when you noted the change in pattern of his breathing, indicating his deep slumber. Your eyes glanced at the full moon out the window, only praying that both Wooyoung and Mrs. Choi were alright.

—

Wooyoung was curled onto one of the higher rocks of the cave, fast asleep. He refused to return back home, not yet ready or willing to face his friends. Droplets of seawater pelting his face startled him awake, and he sat up in confusion at the sudden sensation. This definitely do not look like the ceiling of his home. His eyes snap down to search for Yeosang, the memories from hours ago vividly etching themselves back into his mind.

His eyes locked on someone else’s- a woman’s- and his eyes could only stare back in shock at the sight of San’s mother of all people in the cave, struggling to pry a raging Yeosang off of her.

‘Yeosang! Stop! Don’t kill her! I know her-’

‘You say that about every rat of a human, don't you?’

Only when Yeosang turned to snap the intruder’s neck in half, he paused at the gleam of her necklace. His gills contracted as he gazed at the intricately carved pendant resting on the older woman’s clavicles, “Where did you get that, filthy human?” he hissed, fins and rays flaring out ferociously, his long and sharp teeth snapping at the rage in his tone,”That necklace is for my people. My clan.”

“A friend gave it to me,” the lady explained, hand protectively clutching the pendant and out of Yeosang’s sight. He glowered menacingly at her, eyes still holding numerous silent questions. His eyes glanced down at her blue and purple marred neck and décolletage, “You.. you resemble him so much. My friend. This used to be our hang out spot years ago. His name was Yeohan. Did you know him?”

Yeosang jerked back suddenly, and from Wooyoung’s spot and the darkness engulfing the cave, he could hardly make out the movements of their lips. He scrambled to climb down the rocks, making his way over, legs frantically splashing in the water.

‘Yeosang? What’s wrong?’

“How do you know my father!? He died-”

“Twenty years ago,” Mrs. Choi finished for him, his eyes growing wide with shock at the woman’s affirmation,”The king killed him for the coming-of-age ritual. He wears his coat to this day. The moment I saw you, I knew you had to have been his offspring. The resemblance is uncanny.”

“You think I don’t know the evil things you’ve done to my people?” The siren spat, “I don’t need you telling me what crimes your kind has committed-”

“I will get it back for you. His coat. I’ll return it to you here by dawn.” Silence enveloped the two as the sea creature stared with a gaping mouth at the human.

His eyes narrowed in suspicion, “What purpose would that serve you? Certainly, not out of kindness?”

She only offered him a sad smile. — You adjusted your trousers one last time, before leaning down to brush the hair out of San’s face. He stirred awake from your touch, eyes tired and puffy, “Is it morning?”

You glanced at the dark window, shrugging slightly before turning back to him, “Sort of. I need to deliver the fish to the merchants. I think.. I think you should stay here until I’m back. We can go check on your mom together? Do you want the keys to my place? Go rest there while I’m away.”

He nodded with a soft sigh, hand cupping the one you placed onto his palm,”I’ll stay here to clean up. Don’t take too long, please.”

“I won’t. Just please rest for me, okay? Maybe Wooyoung will come back to visit you here.”

You pressed a firm kiss against his lips, one he gladly reciprocated even in his sleepy state, “Love you.”

You were the first to discover Mrs. Choi’s body. Nothing, absolutely nothing, could have prepared you for the sight of a corpse, limp and pale and stuck between a cluster of jagged rocks underneath a cliff. The net of fish you hauled onto your back dropped with a loud thud onto the deck of the docked fishing ship, the sailors and other fisherman yelling at you in shock. It was only when you pointed out the body swaying against the rocks with every wave that they abandoned their work to call a nearby officer. 

Dread, heavy and ugly, filled you to the core, the sound of your heartbeat in your ears drowning out the shouting in the background. Panic worked its way out of every pore on your body, your eyes locked on the floating, dark haired woman,  olive green dress swaying gently in the calm waters of the early morning.

It couldn’t be her.

She wasn’t the only woman in town with such a dress. A glimmer of hope twinkled somewhere inside of you.

Not her. Anyone but her. Upon closer inspection as the officers hauled up the body, you nearly collapsed on sight. A shudder claimed your body in realization, your blood running cold at the sight of her frozen, gaping, her lips a dark hue of blue, forehead marred and slightly dented from where she most likely impacted the rocks. You could only stare silently as the medics hauled the body up on a stretcher, placing it in the back of a large wagon, the sound of hooves hitting the rocky pavement indicating its departure.

Just how on earth are you planning on letting San know?

—

Hours later, after arguing continuously with the medics, protesting how you needed to see the body, they ultimately refused, even calling out to guards to lock you out of the medical wing of the building. The town of Aurora was coiled in chaos at the announcement of the corpse found near the docks. The councilmen furiously argued amongst each other as the crowd grew bigger in the town’s square, right beneath the large clock tower. Curious people joined along in confusion at the sudden, early commotion, some propping their windows open to tend to their clothe lines and watch with bewildered eyes.

You stood amongst the crowd, fists clenching repeatedly whilst maintaining your flaring emotions. You pondered whether or not you should stick around or go and inform San, when one of the royal family’s servants ordered the towns councilmen to the town hall for an immediate meeting with the current and former king. You turned to race towards the aforementioned building, only for a hand to grip you in place. Turning, your heart leaped in your throat at the solemn looking San. He made no move forward, and all you could do was silently gape, unsure of how you were going to break the news to him, “Couldn’t sleep. I know. The neighbors told me when I went back to check the library,” he calmly explained over the hordes of bodies shoving and pushing past the two of you. Amongst the rush of civilians, you embraced him with trembling arms, your brows knitting in anger as you buried your face into his brown tunic.

You grasped his hand in hopes of comforting him while the two of you waited amongst the crowd in the town hall for the appearance of the King and his father. He held you close, chin resting against the crown of your head. You can tell he was in shock, his grief yet to be surfaced as he held you silently. His eyes were heavy with years of turmoil and anguish, all underneath the hands of one, grimy man. Knowing him, deep down, he most likely will never find it in him to forgive himself for not chasing after his broken mother last night. It will haunt him for years to come.

King Hongjoong appeared, seated in the middle of the large bench, his father to his right. Other noblemen also sat beside the two rulers. A medical examiner spoke rapidly in hushed whispers to the white haired male, whilst pointing to several parchments of paper. The King’s brows knitted the more the examiner spoke, and he nodded solemnly, a hand reaching up to dismiss the two medical staff. A gloved hand pinched the bridge of his nose, his charcoal hues flickering to the side to glance at his father, whose stoic expression did not twitch in the slightest at the barren news. 

The Commander of the Royal Guards barked at the restless crowd of people gathered into the large room to have respect for the King, and the silence that followed suit was deafening. King Hongjoong cleared his throat, his hair pristine as usual, although there seemed to be a weight of burden and stress taking a toll on his young features. His eyes were lifeless and dark, a stark contrast to when he was much younger. 

“It’s come to our attention that the body of Mrs. Choi has been found near the harbor. Upon investigation, medical examiners have concluded that cause of death was suicide,” Hongjoong spoke clearly, voice booming in the walls of the building.

You felt San’s grip on your hand tighten, his brows furrowed as he attempted to contain his composure. You saw guilt flash within his orbs, so raw and visible it made you look away, at anything besides his face. It didn’t sound right hearing the words come out from the king’s lips. You knew Mrs. Choi as well as you knew San. There’s no way she would have willingly dove to her death. “Isn’t Mr. Choi also in the hospital for multiple stab wounds?” A voice piped from the crowd. Hongjoong frowned at the sudden interruption, his hands reaching up to adjust his cloak, when another voice spoke up.

“Where is their son? I heard from neighbors that he was the one who stabbed his father,” a middle aged man mused loudly to the crowd.

“Is that why Mrs. Choi killed herself?” a lady joined in now,”Or was her son behind her fall too?”

“What if a siren killed her?”

“Nonsense, we haven’t seen one in the past four years.”

“Then who do you think has been cutting all of our fishing nets and destroying our sails?,” a familiar voice rang out through the hall. The tall male stepped closer to the Commander, before turning to the crowd, and you watched with horror in your eyes at the next few words to slip out of the Minjae’s mouth, “I’ve been telling my dad about the purple-haired boy who’s been meeting with sirens in the cave east of town. I saw the siren with my own eyes. I told you Wooyoung was up to no good. He’s probably selling all of our people’s information to those beasts.”

Hongjoong’s lips parted to speak, anger clearly painting his features, before his father stood up suddenly, gaze hard and unwavering at the Commander. It was then you noticed the lack of cloak on his frame,”Interacting with those beasts is a criminal offense punishable by death. Find me that boy. I want him publicly executed in the town’s square. As for the librarian’s son, find him as well. Lock him in the chambers until I decide what to do with him.”

Hongjoong gaped to the side at his father in disbelief, brows knitting in confusion, his kohl rimmed eyes wide. Mingi, who stood behind the white haired King glanced at the male, shoulders tense at growing chaos infiltrating the room, “Let me make the decisions, Father. I am King, after all.”

San reached down to grip onto your hand, and when his hand curled into nothing but air, his eyes snapped down to find your figure gone. 

“You old bastard!” A sickening crunch, a wave of gasps of disbelief, and your shouting sent the townspeople into a mad frenzy.

—

Wooyoung watched the small fish swim by his feet, nibbling at his toes. He smiled tenderly, feet swishing and kicking at the animals playfully. Off to the side, Yeosang held onto his father’s cloak, so tightly and desperately as if it would disappear,’I told you that lady was nice.’

Yeosang reached up to rub at his wet eyes furiously, golden orbs flickering up to meet the umber colored ones of the male,’I take back my criticism. Maybe there are still some good humans out there. Repeat my words in front of Seonghwa, and I will personally claw out your eyeballs.’

‘If you do, how will I get to see your beautiful face?’ Wooyoung simpered, cheeks flushing slightly at the other’s thoughts. He nodded shyly, fingers reaching to grasp the siren’s hand, thumb caressing the iridescent skin,’Just like how there are sirens with good hearts as well,’ the intimate moment was soon interrupted by a frantic sound of splashing, and Yeosang’s face fell immediately upon the sight of a panic stricken San. Immediately reading the emotions haunting San’s features, Wooyoung stood up, face contorting in confusion as San scrambled to explain the gravity of the situation they were in, both verbally to Yeosang and with hand signs for Wooyoung.

‘They’re going to execute (y/n). Death by drowning.’

Wooyoung swore his heart skipped a beat or two, his eyes wide and hands limp by his sides. Yeosang quietly watched from behind him.

‘(Y/n) attacked the King’s father. They’re planning on executing you too for meeting with Yeosang. And they think I was the one who killed my mother, and they’re hunting for me, too.’

Wooyoung reeled back, the bombardment of shocking news too much for him to handle all at once, but San continued, occasionally fumbling with his hands from the sheer amount of stress surging through his system,’Wooyoung, we need to leave. Now. I’m going to bail (y/n) out, and you’ll wait for us at the west part of town. There’s a boat there. We have no time to waste,” he hastily reached forward to pull his friend up, tugging him forcibly over clusters of ocean rocks.

“In exchange, will you promise me to protect my son?”

It took Yeosang a minute or two to process the woman’s words, before he finally nodded in response, a frown settling on his features, “Only if you keep your end of the promise.” “No. You will join him on the boat and escape. Death by enforced drowning you said?”

—

You glared icily through the dark bars separating your form from the snow haired king. He ushered the guard to give the two of you privacy, and a minute of footsteps later, and the two of you were left alone in the dark chambers of the royal palace, mossy wall cold against your battered back, “What do you want?” you spat rudely, the taste of iron prominent against your busted lips, your bloodied teeth bared as you glowered at him, “If you’re here to give me shut about how I shouldn’t have attacked your swine of a—”

“They’re preparing the ship as we speak,” he cut you off, a hint of amusement dancing in his orbs joined by the flickering fire of the wall mounted sconce illuminating his features. He casted your cuffed hands a glance, before gazing at your bleeding ankle, “So, I came as fast as I could. The guards have already left to hunt down your two friends.”

Dread bled into your form, and your blood ran cold at the sudden gravity of his words. You were going to die. God, you were going to die before properly apologizing to Wooyoung, before holding San one last time, before- “I have a few words to share with you- I’m afraid I won’t be able to tell you this soon, so,” you watched him remove the golden coat around his frame, rolling it tightly before placing it down into the cell, “Incase either one of us doesn’t make it.. you know what this is, right?”

“A siren’s coat? Of course, I do. What’s your point?”

A twinge of a smile graced his features at your sharp tone, before his face fell into a solemn expression,”It’s tradition that an heir becomes of age when he or she slays a siren and wears it’s coat as a sign of dignity, bravery, and honor. It’s been the case for many generations before me. My father earned his when he was twenty-three. My mother came from another royal family from Port Hala. They do not hold similar traditions as us, and instead do not meddle or interfere with sirens. When it came for me to sail alone and kill one, at a much younger age than my father was, my mother insisted that our family breaks the tradition. My father, as you can guess, disagreed and left no room for her arguments. She threatened to take me and make a run for it if they forced me into it, and later that night, they found her body not too far from shore. My father informed the public that it was the sirens’ doing, but no one was permitted to see her body. Not even me.”

His eyes drifted to the patch of green on the wall behind you, shaking his head and continuing with a lowered voice, “So, I sailed to uninhabited islands, knowing that there were gentle sirens there, and not like the ones that lurked here amongst humans. I met one, a very young one. He was very adventurous and snuck from his kind to chase his pet octopus and.. he was harmless, unable to hear, thus never really learning how to sing any of the sirens’ songs. He was a very naive, little one. I persuaded him to come on land with me because we were friends, and I ran off with his coat, thinking it would be the last I’ll see him. I never had the courage or heart to kill him, and I never thought he’d wash up into our town, either.”

Whatever air you had left was knocked out straight from your lungs. You knew where this was going. You held his gaze with your widened orbs, bloodied jaw slack from shock.

“I intended to kill him that night he was found, but after the doctors discovered his head injury and lack of memories, other than his name among other things, I chose to spare his life. I was afraid my father and the rest of the town will find out. I was and always will be a coward, even as King of Aurora,” he mused, hands reaching up to adjust his white blouse, “I will be on board the boat taking you to your execution. My bodyguard, Mingi, will join us, along with my father’s right hand man, who was behind Mrs. Choi’s death. She was found stealing my father’s coat, but she managed to slip away before the guards had a chance to retrieve it. My father sent him to do whatever means necessary to punish her for her actions.

I know my father better than anyone else. Without a doubt, I know he was behind her death. (Y/n), please, whatever you do, do not attempt to fight him. Go with the plan. Mingi and I already discussed everything, and he will help you out once you’re dropped from the ship. I don’t plan on allowing my father to return back to town,” his eyes grew dark, the shadows of stress aging his appearance. Your eyes widened at his implications, “And I might not make it out alive. If I don’t, Mingi will give you my coat when he rescues you. I need you to apologize on my behalf if I am unable to. Mingi is a great sailor. His father taught him, so he knows his way around a ship. I want you two to escape to Port Hala as soon as you find Wooyoung, is that understood? Take Choi San with you. Mingi will take you to Yunho and Jongho, two friends of ours who will help you. This town will have your heads if you step foot back here.”

The rush of information was too much for your tired brain to comprehend so quickly. You meekly nodded, cuffed hands reaching to clasp the bars tightly, your eyes never leaving the golden coat he donned on, “Yes, King Hongjoong.” “Hongjoong. Just Hongjoong.”

—

You struggled to maintain the heavy weight of the reinforced cuffs around your wrists, body staggering forward from a boot to your back, your frame crashing into the railing of the large ship. You hissed upon impact, the marks on your ankle bleeding against the bandages. You were roughly tugged by the hair, the bruised face of the former king coming into view as his second in command held you by your disheveled locks, “Helmsman! A bit further and then you can drop the anchor!” The old man boomed, gray tresses tied tightly into a high bun, his charcoal hues burning holes into your head. 

You snuck a glance at Mingi, whose eyes never left your form. His hands gripped the steering wheel harshly, knuckles bone-white. A subtle nod of his head washed a bit of relief over your trembling frame. Hongjoong watched from beside his father, as the man shoved your face into metal railing of the ship, sharp ends of the wood slicing your cheek. A familiar glimmer in the water captured your attention, and your eyes met a pair of golden ones deep under the calm waves of the ocean. Your eyes widened, a gasp threatening to leave your lips.

The ship finally came to a halt, and a pair of shiny, leather boots invaded your vision. You glowered at the king from your position on the deck, cheekbones bruised and lip split. You spat onto his shoes, blood splattering on his ironed, white trousers. Charcoal hues void of any empathy stared down at you, before the former king’s hand reached down to tug you up by the collar of your shirt, his crown sparkling under the bright sun. You shared a look with a tense Hongjoong who remained back, his hands clenching into fists, before you were bought back to reality as the older man slammed your back against the railing, pushing you up, your frame dangerously tilting over the edge, “After my kingdom has sacrificed so much for you stupid orphans, this is how you return the favor?” he growled, the strands of his beard tickling your forehead as he gripped your jaw with his other hand, “You will wish I had just shot you when the sirens rip you apart limb by limb. Your screams of agony will sound like a beautiful melody to my ears.”

Your eyes locked with golden ones, and you couldn’t help but reflect back on the time you confronted him in the cave.

“Why do I kill you treacherous humans?” he laughed at your question, your eyes narrowing as a result. He grasped the moving whelk on the rock, clawed fingers crushing it as his gaze never left your own, “Easy. Your King took my father away from me.”

The gruff man released his hands from your collar to swivel you around, but you hastily threw your arms out to reach his head, your vision unclear with unkempt and bloody strands of your hair. The link on your cuffs latched onto the back of his neck, and you tugged him towards you roughly, hoping gravity will be of assistance. Your frames tipped down and your lips quirked up without you realizing it. The last thing you saw before you plummeted down to the blue waters was Mingi’s and Hongjoong’s shocked faces, the latter’s frame already rushing forward to try and reach you with an extended hand. The three of you were definitely expecting this outcome You dove head first into the ocean, the elderly man beside you only feet away. Your attempts to swim up to the surface proved futile as the weights of the cuffs around your ankles and wrists succumbed to gravity. A purple tail smacked your side, and you came face to face with a familiar visage, the air escaping your lungs in bubbles. Rough claws tugged on the metal chains and cuffs, and after a few attempts, the metal snapped under the pressure. 

“Wrap your arms around my neck. Don’t try anything funny, or this time I will kill you,” the purple-tailed siren growled, turning his head to glance at the other siren who seemed to enjoy circling around the man who seemed to panic at the sight of the being across from him. Golden eyes studied the old man struggling to swim up to the surface.

You desperately gasped for air once breaching the surface of the water, arms loosely wrapped around the back of the other’s neck. He paid you no mind as he carefully watched his friend’s head surface, golden eyes trained on the white haired man yelling up at the others on board to save him. 

Hongjoong’s eyes were void of any empathy as he casually crossed his arms on the railing, leaning forward and blinking in response to his father’s shouts. He spared you a second to gaze at your form, relief melting his stoic features slightly. Beside him, the second in command made an attempt to shoot at the blonde siren silently staring at the former leader, the barrel of his pistol gleaming in the sunlight. 

“Drop it,” the deep voice of the red-head was heard from behind Hongjoong, his own pistol resting against the against the man’s temple. Hongjoong didn’t bat an eyelash as Mingi overpowered the other, threatening to shoot if he didn’t comply.

“Are you crazy!? The beast is going to kill him, and all you’re doing is watching!? You’re a sorry excuse of a king- you! You have never had the power to walk in your father’s foots-” his cries were muffled against the cold, metallic barrel of Mingi’s pistol pressing against the back of his throat.

Yeosang’s gaze met Hongjoong’s, who spared him a glance before returning back to the gasping man, his hands clawing at the ship’s hull with desperate shouts.

“Don’t you recognize me, you bastard?”

The elder’s head turned to peer at the creature with fear-filled eyes, his legs beginning to tire after the long waking minutes of staying afloat.

“A disgusting beast that preys on human flesh,” the other growled, hands stabilizing his form against the ship. His intricately embroidered vest sparkled despite it being wet, dark orbs burning holes into the siren.

Seonghwa’s brows knitted as an undecipherable look washed over Yeosang’s features, his jaw tight, gills rapidly contracting. There was a raging storm within those golden hues Seonghwa hasn’t seen in a very, very long time. Yeosang’s lips twitched convulsively, a crazed look suddenly taking over his visage.

 A humorless, sarcastic laugh escaped his throat, shoulders shaking and brows knitting in confusion as he swam closer to the trembling man, “Take a good look at me! Tell me who I am!” he barked, the rays and fins on his neck flaring in the most menacing of ways, bared teeth gleaming like the ocean’s pearls.

The white haired man drew a breath, his lips parting as he glanced once more at the trembling siren, charcoal hues flashing with recognition suddenly, “You.. you’re the son? You’re his son.”

“The one you tried to kill!,” a howl of laughter left Yeosang’s mouth, as his head dipped back to gaze at a stunned Hongjoong, ��Fate is quite hilarious, do you agree? Huh?” Clawed hands struck the ship’s hull, chipping the wood and creating furrows on the surface as Yeosang inched closer, “I was forced to watch my father protect me from you, only for you to kill him in front of my eyes. How brave of you to go after a four year old siren. And now, look at you, you poor, pathetic bastard,” his clawed hand reached forward to grab a fistful of white hair, roughly tugging the man’s head back to meet the gaze of his son, “Not even your son is willing to save you.”

“Shoot him this instant, you bastard! What are you doing staring at me like that!?”

Hongjoong remained as still as a statue, cold gaze unwavering. You swore you saw the corner of his lips twitch. There was a silent acknowledgement of understanding as Yeosang locked gazes with Hongjoong one last time.

“He’ll rather watch as I skin you alive. You don’t deserve the mercy of being under my song’s spell, no..” he shot his arm out, smashing the man’s face against the side of the ship, agonized howls of laughter switching to manic shouting whilst repeating the action, “No, I want you to feel everything. You’re going to feel every inch of your skin being peeled away. A coat for a coat, yes?”

A blob  of saliva flew and splattered against Yeosang’s face, dripping down to the blue waters. 

You jolted as the siren you held onto suddenly gyrated in the other direction, ripping your gaze from the scene as sounds of flesh squelching and tendons tearing came from behind. 

Seonghwa decided it will be best not to stick around to see the outcome, knowing fully well what Yeosang is capable of. He readjusted you onto his back, before commanding you to take a deep breath. An involuntary shiver ran down your spine as the pained cries of the former king were washed out with the thumping of your heartbeat in your ears. 

You were then enveloped in the dark waters of the ocean, the siren rapidly swimming yards away, surfacing for the briefest of moments in order for you to breathe. You had no chance to even ask him where he was taking you, and your mind could only wonder what Hongjoong was feeling at the moment. You were beyond exhausted, both mentally and physically. Your squinted eyes caught glimpses of the clouds of marine life that you hastily rocketed past, arms subconsciously tightening around the dark haired siren.

When the siren breached the surface, you gasped for air, your arms tightly coiled around his neck, causing him to wince and attempt to shrug you off, “Here’s the runt, as promised,” he growled, arms swiftly prying you off and shoving you forward to two other pairs. You stumbled into a tiny dinghy boat, mind too stunned to return the hugs that you were immediately enveloped in. It was the moment when fingers swiped at your cheeks that you realized you were crying, sobs of relief wracking your frame as you wrapped your arms around the other two men, struggling to explain what happened.

Wooyoung’s eyebrows shot up as San pulled you in for a kiss, an incredulous look meeting his features. Seonghwa grimaced in the water, his head turning as he mumbled something about how disgusting humans were. San shared an apologetic look towards the flustered Wooyoung, whose eyes wouldn’t stop flickering between the two of you for an answer.

‘I’ll explain later, promise,’ the ebony haired male signed, before he was forced to meet your gaze.

“We have to go back. I need to see the King,” you stated after the three of you pulled apart. Wooyoung paused whilst speaking with Seonghwa telepathically, eyes flickering to an angered San who grabbed the pair of oars from your hands, “San!”

“Are you crazy!?” He breathed out, “We’re leaving! We want nothing to do with this town any longer, (y/n). Wooyoung and I already made amends with Yeosang. We’re only waiting for him before we escape. I’m not letting you go back there, not after all the trouble we went through to get you here in the first place.” “You don’t understand!” you tried, stammering on your words, unable to conjugate any proper sentence, “Hongjoong helped me! He knows about your mother’s death- her killer! He’s on board,” you tugged San’s shirt desperately, “Hongjoong knows about Wooyoung, too! Before he came to our town! He can explain everything, please. We need to get to him. There’s no one else on board besides them, San.”

Wooyoung’s brows shot up as Seonghwa explained every word that was exchanged, his hues trained on San’s stunned expression.

A sigh left the siren’s lips.

“Yeosang owes me a lot for putting up with this shit,” Seonghwa grumbled, arms already working to push the dinghy back to where he rescued you, your words ringing in his ears like an echo. How did Yeosang manage to find three crazy humans- and what sea god decided to curse Seonghwa with this fate.

Tattered, white and gold, embroidered fabric littered the water around the blonde siren, bloodied, clawed fingers tracing the bejeweled crown in his hands, a solemn expression on his features. A heavy weight seemed to dissipate off the siren’s shoulders as an amused chuckle racked his frame, remembering the horror stricken cries of his father’s murderer.

The sight of a tiny boat in the distance caught the siren’s attention, and his golden hues narrowed in suspicion at the sight. This was not part of their plan at all. As it neared, his eyes bore heavily into Wooyoung for an explanation, flickering to San and then onto you, before he glared at an unamused Seonghwa, most likely exchanging heated words through their minds. You called out to Hongjoong to send down a rope ladder, and the white haired male’s head peeked up hastily at the sound of your voice. If San wasn’t trembling in rage beside you, you would’ve laughed at the expression on the young king’s features.

“Yeosang, are you okay?”

“You better have a reasonable explanation for this,” Yeosang stated, turning his attention to Seonghwa, whose eyes never left the crown in his hands.

A part of you wasn’t surprised at the sight of a bound and cuffed man on the ship’s deck, a bored Mingi towering over him with his dagger unsheathed.

“I had a feeling you’ll return here,” Hongjoong nodded in acknowledgement in your direction, before facing San, his expression sincere as he explained the reasoning behind his mother’s death. Silent tears streamed down his cheeks, darkening the wood beneath his feet as his eyes zeroed in on the gagged soldier feet away.

 Wooyoung’s hand clasped San’s, his heart aching for his friend. Guilt licked the edges of consciousness, regretting not asking her to stay with him and Yeosang back in the cave. If only he had, she would have been alive. Even after explaining to San, the older denying that it was Wooyoung’s fault, he still couldn’t help but feel like her blood was on his hands.

“I give you full permission to do as you wish with him,” Hongjoong squeezed his shoulder, his hand placing a long dagger in San’s palms. Your widened eyes flickered between San and the King. Wooyoung tugged you back, hands gripping your own. His eyes carefully studied San’s frozen expression, fingers twitching against the weapon in his hands, “I’m willing to do it if you don’t want to, of course.”

Mrs. Choi’s killer only shook like a leaf in the wind underneath Mingi’s feet, wild eyes watching the exchange.

San was quick to shake his head, walking past a bleak looking Hongjoong. Steady strides later, and the ebony haired male crouched down eye level towards the trembling soldier, whose eyes glared ferociously at the blank faced Mingi, “You,” he took a deep breath in, tongue darting out to lick a stripe against his chapped lips, “I bet you enjoyed killing an innocent woman, didn’t you?” A flick of silver, and the man winced at the thin, bleeding scrape on his cheek,”Answer me!”

Another flick of the dagger, and the binds gagging the man ripped into two, beads of red escaping the slice on his trembling lips, “King Kim ordered me to! The woman stole his coat! I was only following orders!” 

Hongjoong laughed from feet away, his boots stomping against the deck as he made his way over to the three men, arms crossed over his white blouse, “Mingi, do you think this poor excuse of a soldier hit his head on his way here? Who is the King of Aurora.”

“You, King Hongjoong,” Mingi quipped, a smile threatening his stony expression.

“And who should the soldiers take orders from?”

“You, King Hongjoong. Only you.”

Hongjoong’s eyes dulled as he shoved the tip of his boot into the man’s gaping mouth, pressing down against the back of his throat with hard shoves,”How silly of me. He was only following orders, though. He’s right. One must always follows the orders of a King,” his lips quirked up as he lowered his head to chuckle at the gagging man, his smile borderline manic, “San, as King, I order you to kill him.”

The man’s muffled cries against Hongjoong’s boot had no affect on San, whose hands trembled the longer he stared at him. Hongjoong urged him to go on, kicking the man away with a swift attack to his jaw, his face scrunching up in disgust at the saliva glistening on the leather.

Rays of sunlight gleamed against the edge of the dagger as San raised it high above the fallen’s neck, his hand plunging down despite the man’s strangled cries of protest.

“You’re no better than me, you son of a whore. You take joy in hurting others, don’t you? Will you get off to the fact that you’ll kill me? Will your mommy be proud of you, then?”

The man trembled, his eyes practically rolling to the back of his head in shock as the dagger impaled into the wooden deck, splintering it upon impact. Moments of silence passed, the gentle breeze caressing San’s indifferent visage, dark hues hollow as he gazed down at the crying man. Hongjoong watched the retreating figure of San, before giving the sobbing man a glance over, “You’re pathetic. What did he ever see in you, anyway?” The soldier backed against the railing of the ship, profusely apologizing and bowing to Hongjoong. He turned on his heels, arm lazily coming up to wave back as he watched you console and cup San’s face in concern, “Let the sirens decide his fate.”

He ignored the agonized cries, the clanging of metal, and the loud splash seconds later, his smile gentle as he took your disheveled appearance in, “That was some stunt you pulled earlier. You saved me getting my hands dirty,” he chuckled at your expression, the scene reminiscent of the time he found the three of you in the street in the middle of shopping. 

Mingi could be heard in the background giving an approval to someone down below, and seconds later, gargled screams invaded the comfortable silence. You flashed him a small smile, fingers instinctively reaching up to give him a mock salute, “Still getting rid of rats for you, your majesty.”

An affectionate twinkle danced in his eyes as he shook his head in amusement, a hand reaching to ruffle your wet locks, “Always a loyal soldier to my kingdom, I see,” his charcoal hues flickered to Wooyoung, a sheepish expression taking over his visage, “Now I need your help getting my words through, if you don’t mind.”

You nodded, breathless as you quickly signed Hongjoong’s words to the lavender haired male, shock washing the latter’s features at the King’s words, “I hope you find it in yourself to one day forgive me, although I know I do not deserve as much for everything I have put you through,” his hands reached up to remove the coat he wore, before he presented it to the stunned male, “I believe this belongs to you, Wooyoung.”

Trembled hands slowly gripped the golden coat, his eyes peering over at San and yourself for approval. San nodded, brows knitted anxiously as he hesitantly nodded. Wooyoung tugged it on, glancing down to examine the shiny, golden material. Head snapping up, Wooyoung had only a millisecond to gauge your reaction, before the King’s hands forcefully shoved him over the railing of the tall ship, your gasp merging with San’s yelp of shock.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?”

Your hands clutched the railing, eyes searching the blue waters for any sign of your friend. Yeosang and Seonghwa peered at you from the other side in confusion when you propped a leg up onto the metal, preparing to dive in, when a laugh echoed in your ear, arms tugging you back, “Calm down! He’ll show up in three, two..”

Your squirming figure halted as you stared down in bewilderment at the purple haired male staring back at you from the gentle sways of the waves. Gold pectoral fins and rays shimmered on his neck, and he looked down to study the matching fins on his forearms, jolting in surprise at the lack of legs. His head snapped to his left, where two other sirens gaped, seeming paler than they were minutes ago.

Yeosang’s eyes snapped to you, his gaze already telling you he’s going to demand answers as soon as he’s in earshot. 

San stood to your side, his eyes not leaving Wooyoung’s frame as he experimentally swam towards Yeosang and Seonghwa, both of whom hesitantly reached out to graze their clawed hands onto his tail, most likely wondering if it was real, “That’s why he was able to hear them..” you whispered softly, hands reaching up to rub at your eyes, before you cried loudly, startling the man beside you as you climbed onto the railing, arms waving madly at the three sirens, “Tell him I said he’s the prettiest siren I’ve ever seen!”

San grumbled underneath his breath, arms wrapping protectively around your waist to prevent you from falling over, “Can you try and not give me another heart attack, you bum.”

You and San returned to the tiny dinghy, your hands immediately reaching forward to touch and examine Wooyoung’s form in awe while San frantically explained everything to the impatient Yeosang. Wooyoung shot you a bashful look as you traced the gold rays and fins on his neck, before you peered closely at his now sharpened canines and iridescent, tan skin. He playfully attempted to bite your finger as you prodded his lip upwards. 

‘You look like a diamond now.’ 

Someone cleared their throat, and the three of you turned to look up at a sheepish looking Hongjoong, who clutched the ship’s rope ladder, his frame facing you. Wooyoung’s head snapped up moments later.

“I know you said you already made plans to escape the town but.. I wouldn’t mind having the best swordsman of Aurora join me and Mingi on this ship,” Two pairs of brows raised in surprise at the suggestion, your eyes snapping to meet San’s instantly. The king turned to you, his half-unbuttoned, white blouse swaying with the gentle breeze, his eyes kind and warm.

“You’re not going back to Aurora?” you asked quietly, feeling San’s fingers coiling with your own.

“No,” he mused, chuckling at the sight of Mingi’s discarded tight, golden, guard coat onto the water below, “Mingi and I made a promise when we were younger, to one day escape and put our past lives behind. I have no future in Aurora, and certainly not you three after everything you’ve pulled. Even with my word, I can’t guarantee your safety from the noblemen in the town, so,” he shrugged nonchalantly, boot tapping the wooden deck, “I am in dire need of a swordsman and a..” he paused, studying you in silence, unable to conjure up a position.

“I’ll get rid of the rats on your ship, King Hongjoong,” you said suddenly, frame rushing forward to lean over the dinghy, face scrunched in all seriousness.

His hand shielded his face as soft chuckles wracked his frame, your shoulders slumping down while even San shot you a somewhat amused look, “Of course. You can be the designated rat killer. We also need to patch up that nasty cut on your ankle.” 

Yeosang grimaced at the words, eyes hesitantly casting you a glance from where he floated.

“Wooyoung will come with us too, right?” You turned to glance at your friend, who clearly understood what was going on with the shocked and anxious expression he wore. Yeosang’s golden eyes snapped to you in an instant, a bitter frown tugging his lips down, “Wooyoung is part of our family. We can’t just leave him behind, siren or not.”

“He belongs in the ocean. He’s a siren,” quipped Yeosang, eyes darkening,”His place is in the water.”

“He’s family,” you argued back, eyes narrowing at the teal-tailed siren,”Whatever you two had going on was nice and all- but he’s still part of our family. We’re not leaving him behind. Siren or not, he’s still Wooyoung.”

“Maybe you should let him decide that.”

“Two good friends of mine in Port Hala are expecting us soon, actually. We’ll just drop by months in advance– they won’t mind, I’m sure,” Hongjoong leaned back against the hemp ladder, head tilting back and allowing the sunshine to envelop his delicate features, lips gracefully parting as he took sight of the sirens,”I think we have room for three more, as well.”

San shared a look of bewilderment with you, before looking back at the white haired male, who straightened up to quirk a brow at you, “Siren got your tongue?” Wooyoung’s eyes met your own before he gazed at Yeosang with a tearful, apologetic gaze. 

Family cannot be replaced.

An airy gasp left your lips as his clawed hands reached to grasp the dinghy, before hauling himself into the boat with San’s help. You rushed to envelop him in a tight hug, face buried against the fins on his neck, San following suit moments later. Yeosang peered silently from the water, a hard look settling on his features, jaw tight and brows knitted.

His eyes flickered to San subconsciously.

“Yes,” he whispered, nodding with a wistful expression across his visage , “I’ll protect your son.”

The women’s sad eyes flickered to Wooyoung and then back to the siren, “Please, protect all three of them. I consider them my children as well.”

“I will. I promise.”

“I’m going wherever Wooyoung is going,” Yeosang quipped defensively, “Seonghwa is coming too.”

“What-” a startled cry left the other’s lips, his bewildered eyes boring holes into Yeosang’s head, “I never agreed to this ridiculous change of plans. A human cannot ever be trusted, Yeosang. You know better than that.”

Conflict flickered in the golden hues, gaze trained onto the black haired siren, until a voice from above caught his attention,” We’ll have rules against touching anyone’s coats if that helps. Anyone who touches or takes your coats will be thrown overboard with no questions asked. I can guarantee that,” Hongjoong simpered, nodding his head confidently. 

“Are you really leaving?” Seonghwa gritted to Yeosang, the latter nodding his head in affirmation, “You stubborn bastard.”

“You finally have the opportunity to travel to all seven seas, and you’re going to throw it away just like that?” Yeosang quirked a brow, a knowing smile suddenly finding itself on his features as Seonghwa gives him an unimpressed look, “Besides, he’s certainly earned my trust after everything that’s happened.”

“Don’t use that against me.”

“You’ve wanted to since you were young. Guess I’ll just go live your dream then,” he shrugged absentmindedly, turning to flash Wooyoung a smile, “I’ll send you a seashell as-”

“Shut up already,” Seonghwa ran a hand through his dark locks, suddenly snapping his attention to the other humans, “If I ever find you trying to steal my coat, I’ll slice you and use your flesh as fish bait.”

San paled at the threat, and Hongjoong barked out a laugh, “You heard him, crew. Now, I suggest you all to come on board before the noblemen send an armada after us for not returning back to town.”

He blinked at the gaping, fearful expressions.

“That’s an order!”

You startled at the sudden volume, hand scrambling up to salute, San peering over at you in utter confusion, not knowing whether he should bow or salute, awkwardly doing both simultaneously.

“Yes, King Hongjoong!”

A streak of gold whizzed over your head, and at the sound of a splash behind you, your head snapped in surprise at the crownless man, a smirk displayed on his sharp features, “That’s Captain Hongjoong to you.”