#I actually cried a few times writing because I love both the boys and splinter | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ithinkilikeit-reactions · 3 years

Text

Lost & Found (Yunho/Pirate au!/smut)

Ateez Masterlist Group Masterlist

Tag list: @wooyoungiesdaisy @brrrrpolar @224-12 @pancakes-for-teddy @wannatinyus @amultislifeforme

Pirate!Yunho + fem!pirate! reader

Story Tags: Pirate au! Friends to lovers au! kidnapping, Aged up Ateez (slightly other members) cursing, fighting, explosions, directed by michael bay, smut, kinda angsty, mentions of a brothel, explicit language

Smut Tags: Fondling, male oral receiving, female oral receiving, fingering, slightly dom! Yunho (kinda), unprotected sex 👉👈

Word count: 10699 (she’s very long)

A/N: I think we know by now that I have a too much gene and can’t write short stories.

“Get back here!” His voice rang from behind you as you ran. You couldn’t help but laugh as you dodged the working crew members. The sound of his boots on the wood close behind you. “Watch out.” One of the crew members grumbled as you zoomed past him, barely missing him.

You couldn’t help but laugh and look behind you, Yunho hot on your tail. Only for your foot to get caught on some rope and for you to go flying into the wooden deck. “I got you now!” He yelled, staddling your waist as you laid on the floor. He was laughing and you were too. It was such a relief to have someone like him to hang out with.

Yunho’s fingers tickled over your sides and you squirmed around trying to avoid them before letting out a deep sigh. “Fine. I surrender.” You said, raising your hands and revealing what he was chasing you for in the first place.

“The ship would be in shambles if you two were left in charge.” Your father’s voice boomed from the deck behind you both. “She stole my apple.” Yunho explained, taking the fruit from your hands and taking a bite. “Sorry captain, for the ruckus.” Yunho said, still sitting on you. Kicking your legs and squirming, you tried to push him off of you but to no avail.

Yunho enjoyed it too much really. He thought you were ridiculously cute and just loved teasing you so much. He was the second youngest on the ship, it was just nice to have you there too.

“Big arse, get off of me.” You stuttered, shoving the older male slightly. You both got up off the floor of the deck and your father laughed at how disheveled you looked. Yunho blinked innocently, munching on his apple as your father dusted you off.

“Sometimes you two remind me of your mother and I when we first met.” Your father said and pinched your cheeks. “All this teasing just because you like eachother. So funny.” Your father said softly and both of your eyes went wide. “I don’t like him!” You said and pouted, looking at Yunho with disgust all to hide the blush forming on your cheeks.

“I don’t like her either.” Yunho said with a small laugh, looking at your face. He was head over heels for you, but judging by your face you really didn’t need to know that.

“Whatever you say.... Yunho when you’re done with that apple Seonghwa could use some help below deck.” Your father said and Yunho nodded. “Yes, captain.” He nodded and left the deck. You watched him walk away and crossed your arms over your chest.

You did like him, you liked him alot. Ever since your father had brought him on board of the “Desire” you had been inseperable. He was your best friend and even if you didn’t want to admit it, you might have even loved him.

“One day, you two will look back on this and say: He was right.” Your father said, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Maybe, but not right now.” You said and turned to him.

Your father may have been a pirate, but he never left you wanting for a thing. He taught you how to read, write, how to take care of yourself and protect yourself. Regardless of the situation, your father did his best with what the cards had dealt him.

You walked below deck as the night fell, seeing Seonghwa and Yunho pushing crates around and stacking them. “I’ll help from here, Seonghwa. You go grab some dinner.” You said and the older male smiled at you. “Alright.”

Talking to your father made you realise how silly you both were being. You liked him and you thought he might like you too. Even if he didn’t, things really couldn’t get awkward between you two. Where was he going to go to avoid you? You were in the middle of the ocean.

“Why are you helping me?” Yunho asked, raising his eyebrow. “Because I can. Don’t act like I do nothing around here.” You said and helped him push a crate into a corner. “No you do a lot. But I thought you didn’t like me?” He teased, leaning against a wall and looking at you. Perching yourself on top of the crate, you kicked out your legs back and forth. You were nervous.

“You know that’s not true.” You said softly and Yunho perked up. Was this happening?

“You know I like you. You know I like you a lot.” Your fingers fiddled with the hem of your shirt. The atmosphere in the room was warm, maybe because the only light in the room came from a small oil lamp hanging above your heads. Finally looking up, you could see Yunho’s eyes sparkling.

“I like you too. I like you a lot.” He said softly, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. He had never done this before. Coming closer to you, Yunho grabbed one of your hands. His heart was pounding in his chest and he could feel his ears burning red.

You looked at eachother, just simply watched eachother. Taking in eachother’s features mainly because you were both too painfully awkward to say something. It was just you two and the sound of the waves outside.

Until it wasn’t. The sounds of gunshots and canons quickly filled the air and you and Yunho let go of eachother. “What was that?” You asked, pushing off of the crate and heading towards the stairs. “I have no idea.” The male said, grabbing your hand and following you out onto the deck.

There was a ship next the “Desire” and planks connecting the two. The crew was fighting the intruders, the sound of guns, canons and swords filling the air. You could see your father fighting and Yunho instinctively pulled you back slightly.

You both drew your swords, not knowing what to do but knowing that just standing there was more dangerous.

Arms wrapped around your waist and knocked your sword out of your hand. Panic swallowed up your body and you started to kick, scream and shake at the same time. The culprit’s face was covered, all of their faces were covered. The enemy wasn’t identifiable, not even by the black sails on their ship.

Yunho turned to see you being pulled away, and started panicking himself. “Y/N!” He yelled, garnering your father’s attention from the other side of the deck. Yunho ran pushing people out of the way as you continued to fight your agressor. You didn’t realise it until it was too late but the man was dragging you to the plank connecting the ships.

“YUNHO!” You screamed, still trying to reach out to him or to anyone that could help you. You weren’t winning, he was a lot stronger than you. Yunho was so close, your outstretched hand being centimeters away from his. Your father was close behind

However your heart stopped, watching another masked figure grab Yunho and drive his sword into his stomach. You couldn’t remember if you screamed, you couldn’t remember if you cried out or if your body gave out watching him fall to the deck practically lifeless.

But before you knew it, you were on their ship and the planks had fallen into the ocean and disconnecting the two ships. Thrown to the floor of the deck. You were numb, speechless, scared and heartbroken. You had been stripped of everything you knew in a matter of minutes.

- 5 years later-

Surely you were going to die. This was it, you were sure of it. You could practically feel the ship breaking apart around you. But you weren’t scared, you had been living a life of misery and if it was your time to go, you were ready.

Or so you thought, but the second a canonball tore through the wood a few feet from where you were standing, your fight or flight senses took over. You weren’t even thinking as you ran onto the deck, your senses being filled with yells, screams, the waves and the canons. Your captors were incredibly preoccupied, not noticing your scrambling onto the deck in hopes of finding a way to survive this.

Captain Richards was warned by his crew that these waters were dangerous, ships appearing and disappearing in the middle of the night all supposedly looking for the same thing. Utopia.

But he disregarded them, claiming ‘he knew what he was doing’ and that ‘if they disagreed so much, going overboard was their other option’ you only heard about the journey ahead because of his crewmates being below deck and bickering over it. You were wishing the evil Captain would have had enough sense to listen to his crew, now you might actually die because of it.

Splinters were flying around you as you tried finding a way out, but you were in the middle of the ocean and being shot at. Your choices were slim and you knew this was probably the end.

You paused for a moment, feeling the deck underneath you starting to rip apart. Coupled with the screams of crew mates, you felt yourself start to fall and yet all you could think about was your father, Yunho and the crew that was your family.

Oh Yunho, sweet, sweet Yunho. If everything would’ve stayed the same, that could’ve become something. But you were almost 100% sure he was dead and the thought that you would see him soon after you passed comforted you as you hit the cold, black water.

“Y/N? Y/N.” His voice filled your ears and boy, did you miss that voice. “Yunho?” You could hear him, but you couldn’t see him. You couldn’t see anything except for black and you couldn’t feel anything except for the water in your lungs. “Yunho?” You called out again, feeling an intense pressure on your chest. “Yunho?!” You were yelling but you weren’t sure if any sound was coming out.

Were you alive? You absolutely could not tell. You only felt panic as you felt yourself the pressure in your chest becoming unbarable and your mind slowly starting to shut down.

Until it felt like a thousand point weight was lifted off of you, a loud gasp coming from your lungs as you coughed out water onto a wooden deck... a wooden deck?

Your vision was blurry, the edges of your sight laced with black as you turned your head slowly. It felt like your body weighed a ton, your actions being in slow motion as you held onto the deck for dear life. Blinking furiously and trying to get a grip on the fact that you were as a matter of fact, not dead.

You finally lifted your head, trying to gather your surroundings only to be greeted by sparkling eyes. Horribly familiar, horribly beautiful eyes that surely meant you were dead. “Yunho?” Your voice was weak before your arms gave out and your eyes shut once more. You were definitely dead, there was no other explanation.

Yunho stared at your lifeless body on the deck, completely frozen. He couldn’t bring himself to move, he almost forgot to breathe. He only remembered to breathe whenever he watched you cough up a large amount of seawater, thanks to Seonghwa’s help. Yunho was too shocked to do anything, then the shock turned to pure fear that you might have been dead.

“Yunho?” Your voice made him shudder as he looked at you, eyes locking for a moment. You looked dazed and confused, hair sticking to your face and your clothes soaking wet. You looked so scared and it broke his heart. But then you collapsed again, any strength that you had managed to gather disappearing.

“Y/N’s body temperature is really low.” Seonghwa commented, grabbing your limp hand to feel your temperature. It took Yunho a moment to shake everything off and he looked at around to his crew. “Salvage anything possibly of use from the water, Mingi once that’s done change course and get us out of these waters. I don’t trust them.” Yunho started giving everyone orders, moving to the practically lifeless body on his deck.

He scooped you up effortlessly, feeling just how cold your body was against his and needing to hold back his emotions. “Seonghwa, come with me.” Yunho said, walking towards the door that lead below deck and his chambers.

“Who is that?” Wooyoung asked, watching his captain walk below deck with the woman in his arms. “Captain Y/L/N’s daughter.” Mingi responded and the younger male’s eyes went wide. Some of the crew joined after the attack, only knowing about you through stories told by Yunho and your father. You were a legend, a legend everyone thought was dead.

“We have to get these wet clothes off and wrap her up in blankets.” Seonghwa explained as Yunho laid you down on his bed. He looked at Seonghwa with wide eyes. Seonghwa was still his hyung even though he was captain and in moments like this, he was filled with fear and need his hyung.

Quickly, the two made work of your wet clothes, avoiding looking at your body as much as they could and instantly wrapping you in the blankets on his bed. He attempted drying your hair to the best of his ability and also under the watchfull eyes of Seonghwa, who was grabbing more blankets to keep you warm.

“How is she not dead?” Yunho asked, completely befuddled as to how you were still alive, 5 years later. “She’s always been strong. But I have to admit, I thought she was dead too.” Seonghwa admitted softly, feeling your pulse on your neck. “Her pulse is already stronger, I think we might have acted fast enough.” He added on and his words were calming to Yunho.

Yunho sat next to you on the bed, just looking at your face. You hadn’t changed much, well you had gotten older but so had he. Even if in that moment he didn’t feel like it. He felt like he was seventeen again and everything was normal, like your dad was still around and you didn’t disappear for 5 years. But that wasn’t the case and Yunho was now the captain and you were slowly coming back from the dead.

“I should stay down here, with her. If she wakes up, you know.” Yunho said, looking at Seonghwa. He nodded his head in understanding, he knew Yunho loved you. Even when he was seventeen it was obvious, he wasn’t going to stop him from being with you now.

“You want me to take care of things on top?” Seonghwa asked and Yunho nodded. “Please.” His voice was barely a whisper, but Seonghwa understood and left. Yunho was racking his brain as to how he was going to tell you everything when you woke up, because he absolutely knew you would, you had too.

But it had been a few hours and he was starting to lose hope, tearing himself away from you to walk out onto the deck. “Is she up?” Seonghwa asked, watching the taller male walk from below deck. “No, not yet. I just couldn’t sit there any longer.” Yunho shook his head leaning on the railing and taking his head into his hands. The sky had turned dark amidst the chaos, telling Yunho just how long of a day it had already been. “If she doesn’t wake up soon, I don’t think she will.” Those weren’t words anyone wanted to hear.

Your body was filled with an overwhelming sense of warmth, you weren’t dead, this couldn’t be what death felt like. No, it couldn’t be. Heaven or hell wouldn’t be the smell of seawater and the sound of wood creaking filling your ears. There was a flickering light as you opened your eyes slowly, one you knew all too well from spending time under decks. No, you weren’t dead.

Blinking slowly, you allowed your eyes to adjust to the light and sat up slowly. A sudden rush to your head made you lay back down a moment. “You did almost die. Maybe you should take it easy.” You said softly, throat sore from your previous gasping for air. You sat up again, even slower than before and looked around the room. Holding the blankets wrapped around your body tightly as you did so.

This was familiar, the quarters you were in. They were very familiar, comforting almost. This was your fathers’ ship, this was the ‘Desire’. But it couldn’t be... could it?

You whipped your head around, looking towards where you knew your old room would be if it was and low and behold. There was the door to your old quarters, the little sign your father had made for you with your name carved into the wood. Tears couldn’t help but pool in the corner of your eyes, you were finally home.

You scrambled out of the bed, feeling a sudden rush of energy and adrenaline. You had to go find your father, you had too. It had been 5 years and they must’ve thought you were dead. Wait, did that mean that you really did see Yunho. Or was that in the inbetween, the space between life and death?

You had so many questions and so many uncertainties. Priority number one was to find your father. So you pushed yourself off of the bed, stabilizing yourself as the blood rushed to your head. The blanket that was wrapped around you now laying on the floor as you pulled your slightly damp clothes back on. You tried clearing your throat but it burned immensly from the water inhalation, making you cringe.

‘The Desire’ was your childhood. You knew the ship like the back of your hand, even if it had been 5 years. You instantly found yourself climbing the stairs leading to the door to the deck. Maybe you shouldn’t have rushed yourself to move so quickly but, your family, you were home. Weakly, you pushed the door open and took in the fresh air and dark blue sky.

Yunho heard the deck door open and turned his head around. Low and behold there you stood, holding onto the door for support because it felt like your legs were going to give out at any moment. He couldn’t reach you fast enough, running over the deck to take you into his arms before you could fall. You had strained yourself entirely too much since you had woken up, your body wasn’t ready for any of it.

You were sure Yunho was a hallucination when you saw him prior, but now holding him, feeling the warmth of his skin and seeing the glitter in his eye, you were aware that he was very much real.

“I thought you were dead.” Your voice was scratchy, cracking as your emotions took over too. “I could say the same thing.” Yunho laughed, holding you against his chest. “The last thing I saw that night was a blade going through your stomach.” Tears were spilling now as your scratchy words came out. “Shh, it’s okay we’ll talk more once you’re a bit better.” He said, still simply holding you.

His voice was comforting, it reminded you of home. The ship was comforting, it was your home.

“Where’s my father?” You asked, allowing Yunho to put you back on your feet and his arm wrapped around your waist for support. Glancing around the deck, you recognized a few familiar faces but not the one you were most excited to see. “Where is he?” You asked again, looking at Yunho. He was avoiding your gaze, but he found it hard to look at you in this state: injured and upset. Especially after having just gotten you back.

How was Yunho supposed to tell you that your father had died looking for you, or that he had gone half mad doing it?

“Yunho?” Your scratchy voice brought him back to reality. “Come on let’s get you warmed up again. I’ll explain things.” Yunho pulled you back below deck, your feet barely touching the ground as he supported all of your weight.

You took the moment to really look at him, as he rushed around the quarters to keep you warm. He’d gotten taller, alot taller. Yunho was always taller than you but now it was quite prominent. His shoulders were wider now too, a lot more muscular than what he used to be. He had aged well, he was handsome.

Burrying deeper into the blankets, you relished in the warmth and watched as he sat down next to you. It took him a moment to look at you, but eventually he looked up. Sparkly eyes not having changed once in the 5 years you hadn’t seen him. He swallowed thickly, fiddling with the blanket between his fingers. Yunho was trying his best to avoid telling you, even if he knew you should know. He wanted to spare you the pain.

“The night you were taken, the captain found me on the deck. I was pretty sure I was dead already. Felt like the whole world was going dark.” Yunho started to explain and you thought back to the pain you felt, thinking that he had died. “Seonghwa somehow, managed to patch me up all in the mean time your father was doing anything and everything to try and find you. Every waking second spent trying to find the ship with the black sails that comes and goes like a ghost in the night.” His voice faltered talking about it all and well you weren’t dumb. You just needed to hear him say it.

“He was so convinced you were alive. I feel so bad that we didn’t believe him, but we humored him and helped him look. Catching odd jobs every now and then to get by.” You sat up, placing your hand on his for comfort. Even though you were gone for 5 years, it seemed like the crew of the ‘desire’ didn’t have it easy either.

“Your father got sick, really sick. He always used to say ‘Of all the things to take me out, I never thought it would be an illness’” Yunho squeezed your hand and you felt yourself starting to tear up, so much had changed. “Your father passed away 2 years ago and left the ship to me, making me the new captain.” The tears fell at his words, one of the few things that kept you alive all those years was the thought of seeing your father again.

“He never stopped looking for you.” Yunho finally looked at you, hating to see the tears rolling down your cheeks and you cold hand holding his. He lifted your hand, rubbing it to warm it up. “I’m so sorry we didn’t believe him.” You could hear all the remorse in his voice, remorse for not believing your father, remorse towards his passing, it was hard to hear.

“It’s alright, Yunho.” You wiped your tears away quickly and he grabbed your other hand to try to warm them up. He ignored your words, blowing warm air onto your hands and continuing to rub them. “I’ll go get you something warm to eat.” Yunho needed to get out, for his own emotions sake, he was a captain now and he needed to be strong. “No, don’t leave. Please.” You whispered, gripping his hands as tightly as you could.

He hadn’t even realised that a tear had slipped until he looked at you, weak, tired and sad. “Okay, okay.” Yunho nodded, kicking his boots off and moving to lay next to you in his bed but on top of the sheets. Your cold fingers reached out and wiped his tears away, heart breaking for him and yourself. If there was any time for self pity, it was now.

The feeling of him laying next to you warmed you up almost instantly, making you curl into him even more and revelling in the feeling of being home. “Relax, you’re home now. You’re safe. We finally have you back and we aren’t letting you go anywhere.” You burried your face into his chest at his words, knowing they were true and let your body relax to slowly fall asleep.

It wasn’t Yunho’s intention to fall asleep with you, but he couldn’t help it. The day’s emotions had gotten to him and naturally had exhausted him. But he did wake up again with a start and a panic filled chest. It must’ve been the dream he was having, or maybe it was the fact that you weren’t next to him anymore and not anywhere in his room.

Did he dream up that you were back?

Pushing himself off of the bed, he rushed out of the room and onto the deck. He wasn’t sure if you were real anymore and needed that confirmation for his own sake.

However that confirmation came quickly as he found you sitting on the stairs, eating some soup and laughing with Mingi and Wooyoung. That panic in his chest subsiding at the scene and allowing himself te release the breath he was holding.

“She came out this morning, claiming your snoring woke her up along with her stomach growling. Seems her personality hasn’t changed much.” Seonghwa laughed and Yunho smiled. “That’s a relief.” Was all he could say before turning to finally look at Seonghwa. “You should’ve woken me up.” He added and Seonghwa shook his head. “Y/N told me not too, that you seemed tired the night before. I figured since she’s the captain’s daughter, I should listen.” Seonghwa had a point to that and it was something that Yunho hadn’t thought about before.

He knew that if you were never taken, you would now be captain. Your father was always training you to become the captain and it was purely circumstancial that Yunho was the captain now. It was only right in his mind that you should be the captain now.

You smiled as you noticed Yunho approaching you three and you wiped your lips from the soup remnants. “Goodmorning, sleeping beauty.” You joked and Yunho instantly sighed. “Your sense of humor hasn’t changed at all.” He sounded annoyed, but he was relieved, your traumatic experiences didn’t seem to dampen your spirit. He wished he could say the same.

“Anyways, Captain what’s your first order?” Yunho asked, causing confused looks from you, Seonghwa, Mingi and Wooyoung to be shot his way. “I’m sorry, what?” You asked, not understanding if this was a joke or not. “You heard me. You were the captain’s daughter, he always wanted you to be captain. Now you’re here.” Yunho stated and you felt an odd pit in your stomach. It had been years since being mentioned as possible captain had happened and now Yunho was simply giving you the position.

“I-I-” You stuttered and Yunho looked at you, deadly serious. “Yunho, he made you captain.” You started, Wooyoung and Mingi excusing themselves from your conversation with Seonghwa following suit. “I know he made me captain. But he wanted to make you captain, you know that.” He explained and you shook your head. “Those things don’t matter. They stopped mattering the second I was taken off this ship. My father, loved you. He wanted you to be captain for a reason. Besides, the crew knows you, they trust you and they obviously follow you as a captain.” You paused, looking at him and making sure to look into his eyes. You needed him to know you meant this, because your desire to be captain was so low it was practically non-existent.

“You’re the captain, you should stay the captain. I will be on the sidelines and help where I can, but I have no desire to be captain.” Yunho felt slightly reassured at your words or maybe it was your expression, either way he felt better.

“I missed you.” Yunho said after a long a pause, but now he was looking at the ocean. He found it hard to look you in the eyes to tell you things weighing on his mind.

You looked at his face, really taking the moment to take it in. Age had been kind to Yunho, turning him from the boy you knew into a man. His jaw was more defined, his shoulders were wider and he was definitely taller, even more attractive than he was 5 years ago. Maybe that was because you were both grown up.

“I missed you too.” You said back, tucking your knees under your chin and wrapping your arms around your legs. You meant it, you cried for a week thinking that Yunho was dead and all because he was trying to save you. It was a guilt that you had carried with yourself for years and that was wiped away the day prior.

“Well captain, where are we headed?” You asked and he finally looked at you again. “We are headed to port. However, you should be resting your body faced a lot of trauma in the last 48 hours.” You sighed at his words, but you knew he was right. “I’ll rest until we reach port then, but I haven’t been on land in 5 years. I’d like to go.” You compromised and Yunho looked down at the wooden deck, you were as stubborn as ever.

“Fine. We need to get a few things, food supply has been running low. Need to stock up.” He explained and you smiled. “Sounds quite honest for a pirate.” You remarked and he shook his head with a smile. “I never really was good at attacking others.” He explained and you couldn’t help but smile too. You hadn’t smiled this much in so long, your cheeks were starting to hurt.

“An honest pirate. What are the odds?” You remarked to yourself and stood up from your spot on the stairs. “I won’t do any work then, because you don’t want me too. But I will stay on deck and watch, to remember what it’s like to be home again.” You brushed past him, making sure to pat his back as you did. Yunho watched you walk away and towards Mingi who was by the helm, steering the ship.

There was already such a difference from the way you looked yesterday and the way you looked now. With your hair blowing in the wind and the smile on your face, you looked just as beautiful as you did 5 years ago and it made Yunho weak in the knees.

It took a few days for the ‘Desire’ to reach port, pulling it’s very obvious pirate sail down once they reach the horizon of the island. There was no need to alarm people, not when you were there to do honest work.

In the meantime you tried to abide by what Yunho had asked, for you to rest. But it was sure proving to be difficult, you hated feeling useless. Yet you still tried to help out, marking inventory, charting routes, trying to get your sea legs back to the best of your ability. You did all this while trying not to get caught by Yunho and failing.

If it was the you from 5 years ago, you wouldn’t have listened to him. But things had changed, the captain role suited him well and he had an air of authority to him, you couldn’t help but listen when he scolded you. Yunho had even insisted you take the captain’s quarters, knowing they gifted more privacy than the crew’s quarters, much to your dismay. A captain needed that privacy, not you. But you had lost the argument with him and slept in his bed while he lay in a hammock way below deck.

“Ahh.” Yunho hissed, stretching out and feeling his joints cracking. You shook your head at his noises, knowing they were because of the hammock. “I told you to take the bed, but you insisted. You can still have it, I don’t mind.” You said and he shook his head. “No, it wouldn’t feel right.” Yunho said as the island came larger and larger into view. “Yes it would. Especially for your back.” You retorted and he sighed. “You still argue too much.” “That’s besides the fact. How long are we staying here?” You asked, feeling excited to be so close to land again.

Yunho could see the excitement in your eyes and the little excited bounce in your step as you walked over to the railing to look at the island. He followed you after telling Seonghwa to prepare things to anchor.

“5 years of not being on land. I would’ve gone insane.” He remarked, standing directly next to you with his side pressing into you. He wasn’t wrong, you were on the verge of going insane when your captor’s ship was blown to bits. “This is going to sound insensitive...” Yunho started and craned your head to look up at him, preparing for his question. However, he couldn’t help but pause and take in the way you looked at him.

“But why did they keep you around... for 5 years? It’s something I’ve been thinking about since we found you.” His question wasn’t insensitive, it was something you wondered too. It was something you had asked your captor’s almost everyday, but you had only gotten the answer recently.

“I asked the Captain, almost everyday why he took me and he wouldn’t respond. But the sea was slowly starting to drive him mad and he finally told me.” You paused, smiling softly to reassure Yunho you were okay speaking about it. “He said he took me because of how close my father and I were. That meant I must’ve known the info he did. But dad never told me about the Aurora and well, the Captain didn’t know that.” Yunho’s ears perked up at the mention of the Aurora. The Aurora was a myth, or so he was told.

“And then he wanted to use me as bargaining, for information. But that got postponed and postponed, new things, new adventures for him and his crew. So the deals never happened.” You stopped, making sure Yunho was still listening and well he was, intently. He wanted to make sure no one hand physically hurt you more than he was already aware of. The memory of the stuff you had went through wasn’t good, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as what people would of thought, you were treated more as a servant than a prisoner and you were kept fed. Judging by stories your father had told you, you could have had it way worse.

“Secretly I think he just liked having me around.” You joked, you were never one to wallow in self pity long. Yunho sighed, looking down to the ground being very obviously deep in thought. You extended your hand to cup his cheek, making him look back up at you. “I’m alright, despite everything, I’m alright.” You reassured and he simply nodded his head, nestling his face further into your hands.

The moment was endearing, sparking something in the pit of your stomach that you hadn’t felt in a long time... butterflies.

“Anchor’s down and we are docked, Captain.” Mingi came by to say, ruining the moment slightly and snapping Yunho back down to Earth. “Right, we docked. Uh, supplies we need to get.” He pulled away from you, walking to the other end of the deck to try and get some things ready. You sighed, leaning back onto the railing of the ship. You were happy to be on land, but you were quite enjoying holding him.

Yunho walked down from his ship and onto the dock, nodding at some of the royal guard shaking all suspicions that the ‘Desire’ was a pirate ship. “It costs 10 silvers to dock.” A man registering the coming and going ships remarked, looking Yunho up and down. Yunho was young for a captain, people always underestimated him or thought less of him because of it.

“Here.” Yunho dropped the coins onto the mans registery before going to walk off. “My legs feel all shaky being on land again. So don’t mind me.” You said and grabbed onto Yunho’s arm for support. It seemed like your sea legs were fine, your land legs were the ones that needed work. Yunho laughed, allowing you to link your arm with his and he guided you towards the market.

Half of the crew stayed behind, guarding the ship and to come up with excuses should the royal guards feel the sudden need to investigate ships. The other half wandered around town with the money they had made or better to say looted.

But Yunho didn’t want you to wander far from him and in reality, you didn’t want to be far from him either. The feelings you remembered having 5 years prior were very much coming back. Something you always thought was a stupid little teenage crush was definitely not the case anymore. Yunho became a man, a man you loved.

You stayed by him as he bartered, laughing at the chortle the farmer gave him at his suggested price and making Yunho sigh. “Fine.” He sighed, slipping the man a few coppers and telling him to place the crates by the ship.

The last few days you had spent observing him in his position as captain, well admiring more. He was a just and kind captain, something that you didn’t see often and well definitely not in pirates. It was a rare quality your father had too and it seemed he taught Yunho well.

Even now, you couldn’t help but watch him as he conducted business. It seemed like everyone liked him and the way he held himself. It was entirely fascinating and well it seemed it wasn’t just that way to you. He was catching the eyes of alot of women, be it the daughters of the farmers he bartered with or the ladies standing outside of the local brothel. You absolutely hated it, but you didn’t own Yunho in any way or form. However this just further justified that he had grown up incredibly well.

“Captain, you aren’t joining?” You heard Wooyoung call from a window as you walked through the dark street. Night was about to fall and it seemed the crew members were indulging in a night with the local brothel’s prospects. You really couldn’t blame them, they were at sea for months at a time and they needed to get rid of their frustrations... of any sort.

You glanced at Wooyoung, not being able to help yourself but stare at the woman who was kissing down his neck. “I’ll sit this one out.” Yunho called back and Wooyoung laughed. You remained quiet, it was his choice if he wanted to stay and indulge. It would hurt if he decided to, but that was his choice. He was a captain after all, he must’ve been stressed.

“You’re funny, come on Captain.” Wooyoung taunted, one of the girls coming out of the building’s entrance and leaning against the door frame. She was beautiful with dark hair and golden sunkissed skin, there was no question and even you were tempted, let alone Yunho.

“I’m not holding you back. If you want too, go ahead.” You said and Yunho looked at you in surprise. Was he tempted? Only slightly, but you telling him to go made him second guess things. Part of him wanted you to tell him not too because it meant you might have still had feelings for him or at least that they were rekindled in the past few days.

“I was planning on going to bed on time anyways, today cost a bit more energy than I anticipated.” You lied, but you meant that you wanted him to have a good time. Yunho fumbled with his fingers and for a split moment, he looked like his 17 year old self. He mentally debated for a moment and decided to go inside.

You had only been back a few days, there was no way your feelings were there. Or so Yunho thought as he watched you head in the direction of the docks and the hand of the girl ran over his back. “Captain was it?” Her voice was soft in his ears as he ridirected his attention to her, nodding. “Tell me some of your stories then, Captain.” She smiled, pulling him into the brothel by the fabric of his jacket.

It hurt your heart when he entered the brothel, even more when you saw her hand on his back but you let it go, he had made his choice and you had made yours.

“Where’s the rest?” Seonghwa asked as you appeared on deck. You scoffed at his question and sat yourself down on one of the barrels of grain that you had bought that afternoon. “I’m assuming balls deep in some girls and boys from the brothel.” You stated and Seonghwa was taken back for a moment. “Sorry, I- nevermind.” You started but finished just as quickly, letting your emotions speak for you.

“So Yunho is also partaking in this.” You don’t know how Seonghwa ended up being so wise and the person you’d go to when you needed to talk, but he did and you appreciated him for it. “Yes, Yunho is also partaking in this. I told him he should. Being captain must be... stressfull.” You could understand, you had needs. It was just, you would rather deal with his stress... with him.

“Your father always knew you liked him and well he had a hunch that Yunho liked you too.” Seonghwa laughed and you shrugged. Your father was always right, you missed him for it.

“That day, that day that I was taken I told Yunho how I felt. He told me he felt the same and then all Hell broke loose. Seemed almost like fate was intervening.” You chuckled and played with the hem of your shirt. “I got kidnapped and Yunho almost died.” You found it almost comical, how your lives could’ve taken such a turn.

“Yeah, it seems that way almost. But you made your way back and Yunho lived. Two things that seemed impossible happened.” Seonghwa leaned against the barrels as well and looked up at the stars. He wasn’t wrong, not at all. If you love something you have to let it go. If it was meant to be, it would come back to you and well you had managed to come back together.

“I haven’t said it yet since I’ve been back, but I missed you too Seonghwa. You always listened.” You hopped off the barrel as you spoke. “The crew missed having you around too and well, I missed having the ship’s princess here.” Seonghwa laughed, placing a hand on your arm. You leaned into his touch slightly and then pulled away. “I’m going to go to bed, however. To sit in my anger alone.” You joked, heading towards the captain’s quarters. “Don’t sit in anger too long. Anger and the sea don’t mix well.” He called after you, making you simply smile as you disappeared below deck.

You were angry, angry at yourself for telling him to go but also angry that he chose to go. You let out a disgruntled sigh as you undid the ties on your boots, kicking them off before working to undo the ties around the collar of your blouse.

As you did so, the door to the captain’s quarters flew open. The sudden rush of air and the sound made you jump up, clutching your chest as you looked at who it was.

“Yunho?” You asked, looking at him and holding the top of your blouse shut. He looked disgruntled, hair tousled and chest rising and falling deeply. “How could you let me go?” He asked, taking you back immensly. “I’m sorry? How could I let you go? You’re a grown man, you made that choice.” You were almost laughing, his actions were most definitely his choice. “I know and it was stupid but how could let me go?” He sighed, running his figners through his hair. “It didn’t take much convincing. The girl was absolutely gorgeous, I don’t blame you. Besides everyone has needs.” You explained, looking at him with a confused expression.

“Was she not good?” You asked still thoroughly in the dark of why he was upset. “I was in there for half an hour, drinking an ale and the whole time while she tried to... I was thinking about you, so I left.” You were frozen at his words, your hands falling from your blouse to your sides. Yunho was scared, this confession was different from the one 5 years ago. This was real, this wasn’t a crush. This was a mix of lust and love.

“Was I dumb to think you felt the same? Because you telling me to go in there told me you don’t.” Yunho questioned your silence and tried to avert his eyes from the cleavage that was now very much out. You took a deep breath, not allowing yourself to think too much about your actions as you did them.

Stepping forward, you placed a hand on the back of his neck and pulled him to your level. His lips pressing against yours roughly as you did so, but you really didn’t care. This was years of pining and being concerned of each other wrapped into one kiss.

Yunho didn’t need to think twice in kissing you back, hands coming up to cup your cheeks as he did so. He pressed his lips against yours even harder, feeling your fingers tangling into his hair.

You could taste the ale slightly on his tongue as it dipped into your mouth, making you smile. “You taste like ale.” You mumbled against his lips only for him to shake his head. “You either talk too much or too less.” He replied in response, leaning down to grip your thighs and lifting you in the process. “What am I doing now?” You asked, arms wrapping around his neck. You couldn’t help but tease a little, especially with the way he was looking at you. “Definitely talking too much.” He said and kissed you again, even more feverishly than before.

Your legs wrapped around his waist as his hands moved to your ass, holding you up effortlessly. He gave you a squeeze and revelled in the way you hummed against his lips. Your hand caressed his cheek and you pulled your lips away from his for a moment, just so you could look at him and take him in. His eyes sparkled in the light from the candles and they were a significantly darker than usual while looking at you.

He walked you backwards, a small smile playing on his lips as he did so. Yunho was doing the exact same thing, taking you in. The way your lips were soft under his, the way your chest rose and fell as you tried to catch your breath and the way your skin looked golden under the light of the candles. He took it all in because as fate had shown before, he didn’t know when it could be taken all away again.

Yunho dropped you onto the bed, maybe a little rougher than he intended too but you didn’t mind. Especially not as he slipped between your legs and hovered over you, still standing as you sat in front of him on the bed. He leaned down, hand holding your neck as he kissed you again. Tongue swiping over your lips as you tried pulling him further down to your level. The hand on your neck moved down slightly, tracing the skin that was revealed from your blouse and down your chest. He grabbed your breast throught the fabric, kneading softly as you whimpered against his lips.

“Take it off.” He told you, hardly pulling his lips away from yours as he did. The demand sent goosebumps over your body and the dominance he was radiating made your core ache. Your fingers found the hem of your blouse, not wasting too much time in taking it off. Yunho helped you, grabbing the thin fabric and pulling it off of you to reveal your bare chest.

His lips instantly attached the newly revealed skin and his hands cupped your breasts, massaging them a little harsher than before. Your mouth fell open at the feeling of his lips all over your chest, leaving marks where he could and simply because he wanted too. This was his new favorite feeling, the feeling of you under him and his lips on you.

“You’re so soft.” He mumbled against your skin and sinking down to his knees. Yunho was now practically the same height as you as you sat on his bed. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling your chest nearly flush against his face. His tongue ran over your nipples gently before allowing his lips to wrap around it, sucking softly as your fingers carded through his hair. You were a whimpering mess under his mouth and you could tell he was only just starting.

“Yunho-” You moaned, starting to tug on his blouse. You just wanted to feel his skin on yours. He took his lips off of you with a chuckle. “How about you take it off now?” You asked, your hand tilting his chin up to look at you. This was such a sight, Yunho sitting between your legs and looking up at you with those big beautiful eyes. He smiled at your request before allowing you to help him with the ties of his blouse. His hands fumbled along with yours, admiring the size difference between the two as he did before deciding it was done enough to pull it off.

You watched him throw the fabric to the side before turning back to you. Your hands moved before you really put much thought into it, moving from his bare shoulders and down his chest. He was so much more muscular than 5 years prior and he had little scars from fights and accidents. But one stood out the most, the big scar just off the side of his belly button, the one that showed that he had evaded death.

Yunho shivered slightly, feeling your fingers graze the scar before bringing your hands back up to his shoulders. “Stand up.” You said, kissing his neck gently as you did so. He faltered for a moment, raising up from his knees to stand before you again. As if he wasn’t incredibly hard already, the sight of you dropping to your knees infront of him definitely helped.

Your hands moved down his stomach stopping at the ties of his trousers as you looked at him. Lifting yourself slightly, you kissed down the faint v line that dipped down and made shivers go down his spine. Yunho’s hand moved to your hair and pulled the loose strands out of your face so he could see every expression.

You tugged his trousers down, allowing his cock to spring free and he let out a hiss. With a soft smile, your hand wrapped around him softly and you thumb ran over his slit to spread some of the precum around. Yunho couldn’t hold back his moans at the feeling, your hand was better than his own or some girl from a brothel. To you he sounded absolutely heavenly, making your lips part in a sigh before leaning forward and taking him into your mouth.

Instinctively, his grip on your hair tightened as he felt your tongue swirl over his tip before throwing his head back. “Oh shit.” He hissed as you bobbed your head over him, forcing yourself to take more of him and using your hand for what didn’t fit. You pulled your mouth off of him and took a deep breath, giving him a soft squeeze with your hand just to see his response. Yunho almost whimpered and tugged your hair again because of the pleasure. “That feels so good.” He huffed as you took him into your mouth again. Your nose brushed his lower stomach as his cock pressed against the back of your throat, making you gag but you took it. His sounds were most definitely worth it.

Yunho back away from you, his hands running through his hair as his chest rose and fell deeply. “I don’t want to finish yet.” He said, catching his breath as he looked at you completely bewildered. You smiled, loving that you had that effect on him before wiping your mouth slightly.

He moved back towards you, lifting you onto your feet before pushing you back onto the bed. Hands, almost instantly finding the ties to your trousers to pull them down harshly. Yunho was feeling an almost feral need to taste you, fuck you, have you in any way possible. His patience was running thin.

You let out a surprised sound as your trouser were ripped away from your legs, very much feeling the same need Yunho was at this point. Holding onto your ankles, he pulled you to edge of the bed and sank down on his again. He lifted your legs over his shoulders. His lips moved over your thighs, slowly but surely getting closer and closer to your dripping core.

You watched with heavy breaths as his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking gently at first. The action left your hips bucking and Yunho smiling against your core. “Stay still.” He demanded and pressed your hips back down into the mattress before his lips became a bit harsher. With his eyes watching you and his lips against your core, the pleasure was incredibly intense. Your hands moved down your body, over your breasts and down to his on your hips. You just needed something to hold on to.

His tongue circled over your clit as your fingers laced with his, your back arched off the bed. His other hand moved off of your hips, pointer finger circling around your entrance before slipping inside. It caught you off guard, making your hips buck again and a moan tear from your lips. He added another finger, thrusting them into a little harder and fast as lips continued to suck on your clit. Yunho just wanted you to cum, he wanted to see you fall over the edge, he wanted to see just how far he could push you.

“Yunho- I’m, Oh.” You whimpered, squeezing his hand harshly as you tried to keep your hips still. The pit in your stomach was on the verge of exploding and he was doing everything he could to make it happen. His fingers continued to curl into you and your moans were almost soundless as you toppled over the edge. “That’s it.” He cooed as your thighs shook around his head, his fingers not slowing down one second to ride out your orgasm. Yunho watched your face contort and listened to your whimpers as he did so, a soft smile on his face the whole time.

“You sound so good.” He complimented, fingers not easing up any as he did so. Your legs closed around his hand and you pushed it away, the overstimulation being too much for you. Yunho stood back up, hovering over your body as you caught your breath. You opened your eyes, locking with his for a moment as his hands massaged your hips. “Are you going to fuck me already?” You asked, words surprising him.

The massaging of your hips ended as he lifted you up and flipped you over, catching you incredibly off guard but making you laugh none the less. “I told you, you talk too much sometimes.” He whispered in your ear as you adjusted to sit on your hands and knees. You smiled and arched your back slightly, ass pressing against his bare cock and he let out a sigh.

You could feel his hand move up your back and to your hair, tugging harshly and pressing your back against his chest. You could feel the tip of his cock sitting at your entrance and you squirmed slightly. You had never been quite this needy before and it was all Yunho’s doing.

He released your hair but wrapped his arm around your waist to keep you in place as he wasted no more time. Yunho thrust himself fully into you, hardly giving a moment to adjust to the stretch. The mewl that left your lips was a noise he knew he’d never forget and the way you felt gripping his cock either. It was like you were made for him.

Yunho started fucking into you hardly giving you a chance to breathe because of his brutal pace. His arm remained around your waist to keep pressed against him and his other hand gripped your chin to make you look at him. This was it for him, knowing your completely blissed out expression was because of him and only him. He revelled in the feeling.

Your sounds egged him on to fuck you even harder, pace being sure to leave bruises. You lifted your hand to hold on to the back of his neck, just so you had some leverage. “You feel so nice and tight around me, you were absolutely made for me.” He mumbled into your neck and kissed the skin. His words were making you blush which was almost funny considering the position you were in. “Fuck-” Was all you could muster as he hit that sweet spot inside of you, your fingers lacing with his on your waist. You were pretty sure that anyone on deck could hear your moaning but you really couldn’t care less.

You could feel yourself getting close and so could Yunho, the way you were squeezing him left him moaning into your neck. The hand holding your chin moved down your body and stopped at your clit, rubbing harshly as he mumbled sweet nothings in your ear.

“I want you to cum for me.” He started, kissing your lips as he picked up his pace even more. He continued to rub your clit as your body shook, that familiar coil in your stomach tightening. Yunho’s hips stuttered as he felt his own orgasm tear through him, moaning your name into your ear. As you felt him cum inside you, your own orgasm washed over you leaving your frozen and breathless.

You sat there for a moment, catching your breath as Yunho laced gentle kisses over your neck doing the same. The arm that was wrapped around you waist remained there, holding you up as you both calmed down for moment. Your fingers traced shapes into his hand, tickling him slightly and making him laugh.

“Well that was something.” You mumbled, moving away from him to lay down on the bed. Your body was in dire need of some rest, you could imagine his was too. You laid down on top of the sheets completely naked, looking up at Yunho who still standing and watching you.

There was a sort of after glow surrounding you, your flushed out cheeks, the marks over your chest and the sparkle in your eyes. He found himself simply staring as you blinked at him. “Don’t look at me like that.” He started, finally moving to lay down next to you. “I can’t guarantee I won’t fuck you again if you don’t stop.” He laughed and you couldn’t help but giggle too as you rested your head on his chest.

“Is that a threat or a promise?” You asked and kissed over his chest lightly, teasingly almost. “A promise.” Yunho answered, cupping your cheeks and making you look at him. “Captain Yunho, I think I might’ve fallen in love with you all over again.” You admitted, looking into his eyes. Yunho really couldn’t help the smile that pulled over his lips or the pink tint that covered his ears. “That’s a relief. I don’t think I ever fell out of love with you.” Yunho said and let his hand massage your bare thigh.

“As long as we’re on the same page.” You said even softer, feeling incredibly tired after your day. Yunho settled with you in his arms allowing himself to also fall asleep with peace in mind for the first time in a long time.

The next morning, Yunho woke up to an empty bed and he panicked for a moment. Only to realise you were sitting at the desk in the corner of the room, completely bare as you flipped through a journal.

“This is a view I could get used to every morning.” Yunho mumbled, making you look up from the scribbles in the book. “If you play your cards right, you will.” You joked, standing up from your seat and wandering back to the bed. Yunho’s cheeks and eyes were puffy with sleep as he watched you saunter back to bed journal in hand.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this?” You asked, laying back down next to him and allowing his arms to wrap around you. You hadn’t noticed the journal lying there originally, but it had peaked your interest as you lied in bed that morning and rightfully so. It was your father’s sea journal and you had never looked in it before that morning.

Yunho kissed your bare shoulder slightly as he watched you flip through the pages. “I was going to when you woke up, if you woke up that day. Then I had to explain everything to you and I didn’t want to overwhelm you.” Yunho explained, hoping you weren’t upset with him because of it. “It’s alright, I understand.” You reassured him, your hand stroking his face gently. “Have you flipped through this?” You asked, pausing on a page that had sparked a lot of interest for you a few minutes prior.

“No, it didn’t feel right. Like I was reading through his personal thoughts.” Yunho shook his head and moved to read the page. His eyes widened at the words over the page. “Is this real?” He asked and you shrugged. “I have no idea but there are directions... he never told me about this.” Your voice trailed off, wondering why your father never explained the Aurora to you or how to get there.

“Where were we headed after this stop?” You asked, reading the directions he had scribbled haphazardly over the page. “Nowhere specific. Somewhere, anywhere. At this point we were just surviving with the name pirate branded onto us.” He sounded lost for a moment, not enjoying the life they were leading. You both paused and looked at eachother. “If we don’t have a set course... What’s the harm in going?”You asked, knowing if you actually found the Aurora you’d be set for life. It was a legend but according to your father’s notebooks the legends were real. According to your captors, the legends were real.

The Auroura was the cause for your life being taken away from you for years, the reason Yunho was almost killed and the reason you would never see your father again. If there was an ounce of truth to it all, it was worth finding.

Yunho thought for a second, looking at your expression before standing up. He shuffled around for a moment, pulling his clothes back on that were thrown around during the previous evenings’ events. You watched him expectantly as he shuffled around, holding back your laughter as he stumbled slightly.

He extended his hand to you and you looked at him in confusion. “I’m going to need the directions if I want Mingi to chart a course.” He laughed, explaining himself and you felt your chest fill with warmth. Yunho leaned over the bed to kiss you, pressing his forehead to yours.

“You’re not wrong about there being no harm. We’ve been sailing for months without a purpose. Seems like with you back, we have our purpose again.”

A/N: I left the ending kinda open to a part 2... so some feedback would be amazing. No in reality this fic took me months to write so I really hope you enjoy it.

Thank you for being patient with me, I love you guys and I’m sorry for being m.i.a while writing and stuff. ♥♥♥

#ateez #ateez smut #yunho #yunho smut #ateez reactions #yunho reactions

555 notes · View notes

stargazedmoony · 3 years

Text

Excerpt from a story I’ll never write: The younger brother.

“Crucio!”

Sirius cried and screamed, his hands shooting up to his head. Fiery pain shot along the most sensitive nerve endings of his body and travelled along the fingers and up his arms, never settling but emerging his body in what seemed to be endless pain. He clutched his hands to his chest, trying to breath, but the air got knocked out of him with every splinter of torment that went through his body.

“Mother, please!” It was not his voice that had spoken, Sirius knew that. “Mother, please! I will— Let me talk to him!” As strong as the voice had sounded when it first spoke, so weak it sounded now.

But the pain was ebbing away. Regulus had gotten their mother to stop casting the horrific spell and Sirius tried catching his breath, hot tears lingering in the corner of his eyes. He lifted his eyelids a little, to see Regulus, rather blurry, shielding his mother’s wand-arm as though trying to keep her from swinging it again. Her eyes were furious, looking down at Sirius in disgust and anger. “Talk to him?” she hissed. “Torture would do him good! He’s to know who’s in charge in this house. If it weren’t for him being the heir of this family, I would have—!”

“Mother, please!” Regulus looked at her in distress. “He’s— He’s…” Lost for words, Regulus looked down at his brother, his eyes widened with worry and disbelief. Sirius shivered. To sleep, to die— it didn’t matter to him anymore. His head fell down on the carpet, his eyes fluttered shut. His head was throbbing with his mother’s screaming, her kicking the life out of him. Was it all he was ever going to be?

Perhaps he’d lost conscious, perhaps his mother had cursed his body into nothingness. Sirius woke up to a nagging feeling in his shoulders and a drenching pain down his spine. He noticed that he was no longer laying on the carpet and as he tried to move his arms, he felt he lay in a bed underneath a packet of blankets. It was his own bed— he could smell the fancy cologne he’d bought in a Muggle shop with Remus a couple of weeks ago. Sirius was certain it had not been his mother who had brought him to bed and as he opened his eyes, he found Regulus sitting in a chair at the far end of the bed, looking rather uncomfortable and not at all certain as to why he was there.

“Hello, brother,” Sirius said hoarsely, trying to stretch his neck to sit up straight. His body felt immensely uncomfortable, as if his limbs were not in the right place. “What you doing here?” Sirius tried pulling away the blankets.

“Here, let me.” Regulus got up and helped untangle Sirius from his blankets. “I— I’m sorry, I didn’t know she would—”

Sirius shrugged. “Whatever,” he said, in a very indifferent tone of noise. He lifted up his shirt to find several bruises there. Walburga— he did not find her worthy enough to be titled as his mother— had kicked him right below his ribs. His hips were bruised, too. Nothing too bad, nothing that could not be fixed. A simple concealment spell would do, he figured, in case the bruises would still be there when school started. If James saw his bruises, the boy would probably write his family a letter or something and Walburga sure didn’t care for a 14-year-old ‘blood traitor’, as the Blacks called the Potters, to tell her how she should raise her son. No, it was better not to tell him.

And maybe in a way, Sirius felt like he deserved it, too. He was never the son they longed for him to be and his life would sure be easier if he’d just cooperate.

But what is the fun in that? he asked himself. He was a marauder after all. He couldn’t help but crack a smile at this, though it looked more like a grimace through the pain.

He caught Regulus’s gaze and straightened his face. “Thanks, Reggie,” he said softly. “You can go now.”

Regulus opened his mouth as if wanting to say something. Then, he pressed his lips together and nodded briefly, looking rather hurt at Sirius’s blunt reaction to his helping. He should have been used to it by now, but somehow he had always hoped for a little more recognition. He wanted Sirius to trust him, Regulus being his little brother who cared, regardless of their differences in opinion about their family. Sirius was his blood.

He turned on his heels, facing the door, but he couldn’t bring himself to just walk out.

“Why do you keep doing that?” he asked quietly. The room stayed in silence. He bit his lip, not sure if Sirius even heard him.

“Are you asking the door or are you asking me?” Sirius said, a hint of humour in his voice. Regulus didn’t care to laugh at this, not when he was really trying to have a conversation. These were the things that made him feel belittled. Sirius was always making these stupid jokes, hovering his heavy, arrogant shadow over him, always trying to be the superior person in the room, when, in reality, was he? The black sheep of the family, was what their aunts and uncles called him. Another disgrace on the tapestry. Sure to be shred off of it if he didn’t make up his mind whose side he was actually on, Regulus was certain about that.

“I’m asking you,” Regulus said, turning around. He lifted his head, thrust his chin forward, hoping to, in a way, look dominant. Sirius was no better than him. Not according to Mother anyway. “Why do you keep doing that?” he asked again. “Contradict her, getting yourself in trouble. When has that ever done you any good?”

Sirius’s face angered. “When has that ever—? Are you really asking me that? It’s not about what good it does to me, it’s about morals! It’s about… It’s about doing good to the world!”

“But don’t you see that you keep distancing yourself from us when you behave like this? Father won’t even look you in the eye no more, did you not notice that?” Regulus’s voice was shaking.

Sirius looked down at his lap. “Of course I noticed,” he said annoyed. “But it’s not like I care.” That was a lie. Regulus knew very well that that was a lie. He did care, Sirius just had too much pride to admit it. It was one of the Black-traits that he did inherit. It had never been enough to make his family proud though.

“Don’t act like you do.”

“What?”

“Don’t act like you care.” Sirius looked him in the eye, fiercely. Regulus shook his head. There was no use in talking to him. He had known for a very long time now where Sirius’s loyalties lay. He couldn’t blame him, but he did blame him for not trying to play it smart— like he was. “I do care,” he said, softly. “I’m your brother.”

“Don’t care for me just because I’m your brother,” Sirius fired back. “I’ve had enough of that. Found me a new one a few years ago anyway.” That struck Regulus— a dagger to his heart. A poisonous snake’s bite in his ankles. The Potter-boy, Regulus knew. The room fell quiet once again, Regulus breathing heavily in it. He didn’t know how to position his body, how to use his head, hands— anything, really. He looked away, slightly shaking his head, and turned his body to walk out of the room.

“I’m sorry,” Sirius said behind him. His voice trembled, as if on the verge of tears. “I’m sorry, Reggie. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m—”

“Whatever,” Regulus spat, in the same exact arrogant and indifferent tone Sirius had shot at him before. “If you need me, I’ll be in my room.”

And with that he walked up to the door and shut it with a slam behind it, leaving Sirius looking hurt and red-faced.

It would never be any different than this. The worst thing of all was knowing that he, Regulus, would do it again— saving Sirius from Mother’s hands, taking him up to his room and talking to him until his voice had dried out. He would then wait for his brother to wake up, hoping and praying that he’d wake up at all. He’d do it all again, but he was ever more so afraid of the day that he might not. Loyalty was a matter of questions. Could he really turn his back to his brother? But then again, it was Sirius who was distancing himself from the family, not Regulus. Was “Toujours pure” really a matter of blood purity or was it a matter of love and loyalty and the pureness of the both of them altogether?

Regulus walked to his own room, locking the door as he shut it behind him, and took place on the bed.

For a moment, he sat there in silence, his head in his hands. Then, the room filled with soft sobs. Sirius was going to wake up tomorrow. That was all that mattered now. Still he kept crying in his darkened room for a little while longer, quietly so that his parents wouldn’t hear him, and feeling the most loneliest he’d ever felt.

by: @stargazedmoony ❥

73 notes · View notes

archetypal-archivist · 3 years

Text

Hermitcraft-What is Glass but Crystal Light?

There is a woman, sleeping in the heart of an eldritch being beyond mortal ken. There is a man, strapped into a chair, watched over by worried friends as his mind flies across the cosmos- looking for someone. There is a ship that sails the rivers of light that flow through the outer reaches of the void. And long ago, there were two boys who were nearly consumed by a star that should have stayed dead.

This is their story, split into ten parts, each inspired by a song and each part written within the song's duration. May they receive their happy ending yet.

Also known as, I took on a drabble writing challenge and came out with 1500+ words of Sad Grian the Space Sailor content. Links to the songs will be at the bottom.

-----

The boat rocked through the waves, glowing light washing against its hull as nebulas and galaxies spun by. Grian stretched out his hand, letting the solar winds trail over and through his fingers, giving his skin a pale, silver glow. To Mumbo, standing stock still- near invisible in the light of the void, purple and dark and impossible to describe- Grian looked ethereal. Impossible. Like light in the void, like a man made of nothing, stretching out beyond his galaxy to see a glimpse of his lover across the cosmos... Was he talking of himself or of Grian? Best not to think about it. (Best not to think.) He was too boring for the brunet, he knew, but even if his redstone skills lacked the ability to hold his love’s attention, not like the starry seas could, it at least gave him this. Back at home, his body lay strapped into a cold metal chair and electrodes and wires poked harshly against his temples. Iskall watched helplessly as his friend’s eyes flickered behind his closed lids. Alas, if only his friend could see the heart that stood before him, wishing for a spark of that brilliant mind to be turned his way. (Sailor Song by Autoheart)

The seas were cold comfort, although few could tell. Grian knew that better than most. Mumbo was precious, truly, but he was better off without him. The seas had claimed him, marked him when they were younger, back when it was just him and the sea and the drowning feelings inflicted upon them both by a man too much like a black hole to be survived. He and the sea had come out changed, something less than human, in the case of his friend, and a bit less than whole for him. Mumbo really did deserve a whole person, not just a shell of one. But still, even if his heart had been eaten by the void, despite the sea’s best efforts, he could leave Mumbo this- a kiss, pressed to a sleeping temple, a key on the table, and a bottle of dreams. All he had left of his heart, all that he could give. (This is Not Goodbye by Sidewalk Prophets)

Taurtis was not always the sea. He was not always light. But always, as before and as always and as he always will be, he was not enough. Grian blamed him, he knew this too. He had come out of the mess of Sam and his pull just as broken as his best friend, but somehow Grian always spoke as if he had come out the poorer of the two of them. As if losing his physical form and his very name, his very identity, was somehow less of a burden than simply losing a heart. Perhaps that was why Grian was so cruel to him now, insisting that having Taurtis wasn’t enough these days. Perhaps losing a heart really was a burden. But compared to a body, to a soul set loose among the cosmos to join the solar seas and the stardust whipped up by the waves? Having to learn the art of surrender in all its brutal perfection? No, Taurtis had it worse by far. But even if he had lost his body, even if Grian blamed him for not protecting them both, even if he wasn’t enough (had internalized the blame, just a bit). Well. At least they’ll be together forever now. He would learn to be enough, maybe. Given time. Time enough in all the world. (Neptune by Sleeping at Last)

The void was not dark. The void was not silent. Beings roamed its reaches, things of light, borders and physics and string theory made flesh. The voids were treacherous, and those who sailed the cosmic seas knew its dangers well. There were things that lurked in the void’s fractalling, mind-hazing fog, in the light that was anything but. Things that ate men alive, bundled them up in contradictions and questions until their who unraveled from their what, until their atoms pulled apart at the seams. But the most eldritch of things in the void was hope. The most dangerous by far, it’s light cast out across the void, glimmered upon the waves and luring in the foolhardy and the desperate into its reach. And yet, it never struck. Never consumed, not as the other monsters of the void did. It didn’t need to. Any who caught glimpse of its might would throw themselves into its mass whole-heartedly. And yet. And yet. Not all who lost themselves to hope were devoured. Deep in its heart, there sleeps a woman. Her name is Stress, because that is what she is. And the heart of the hope at the center of the void is always breaking, because that woman, that Stress in the fabric of reality? She is trying to break free. And someday, she will succeed. And all will be torn bloody and new again. The seas know it. The absent skies know it. Taurtis knows it, in his piecemeal state. And oh, how hope pulls at him for the knowing. Best to leave his Grian in the dark. { Voidfish (Plural) by Rachel Rose Mitchell}

Vintage Beef knew better than to sell to traders and pirates like the man before him. Anyone who looked like they stepped out of a children’s picture book weren’t likely to be able to pay. Pirates belonged in a by-gone age, even ones that stank of light more than anyone he had ever met. But the man before him, edged in salt-spray golden glow, seemed so lost. So desperate. What was a drink, in the face of that? So he served the man a drink and a side of cow, as a treat to keep the man from hopefully getting too sloshed. No luck. And soon, the story came pouring out, a story of a pair of boys and a man who shone like stars, who blinded them with his light and sucked the life from their bones like marrow. A black hole in all but name. The fork in his hand clicked against the man’s teeth as he choked out the words, hands shaking. A childhood gone wrong. Beef just nodded, wondering, lost in the face of such loss. He could understand that, perhaps. But what was his own lost prospects, lost to his bar and his job, in the face of a lost life? He just hoped the man didn’t end up like all other men in story books. Stories ended. And, as the man stumbled out of the bar, starshine glittering around him like grief, he seemed as if he was rushing into his epilogue. Best wishes, Beef spared him a thought. He would need them. (Golden Leaves by Passenger)

Joe loved the sea, for all that he could not bear to touch it. As an ender hybrid, a bit like that prince in the far tower, its waters would burn him to the quick. And he loved the man he caught glimpses of when he stared out across the waves even more. The man had no name, not that he knew of anyway. Though, it’s not like he could ask, locked in his tower as he was. Part of the job description of a poet, of course. Call it an occupational hazard, just like falling for impossibly distant figures straight out of myth or legend and feeling your consciousness splinter across the cosmos to bring you inspiration in your dreams. (Sleep… hurt. He tried not to think about it.) But yes. The man on the edge of the sea, who rode the waves like he was made to. Perhaps he would write a story about him… (Venus by Sleeping at Last)

Grian knew that things were coming to a head. The sea beneath his boat was insisting that it was not actually the sea. Again. He must be going mad, too, losing his mind just like he lost his heart to that awful void-beast monster from so long ago. But somehow, it felt right, to listen to the sea. To lean over the prow and let his fingers trail through its liquid light waters, let the starshine climb up his veins and ooze through his pores, through his system. It was dangerous, yes, but when he cried tears that glowed like joy, it felt good. Cathartic. Like a piece of his was returning to him. He could never get his heart back, and even if he could, he’d turn right around and hand it to Mumbo. But maybe, just maybe, things would be okay. (It’s Alright by Mother Mother)

Taurtis knew the end was coming. And he was okay with it- longed for it even. He had a heart, unlike his friend. But where he was going, the woman who he had set that feeble organ on, he didn’t need it. Ha. This was why Grian really was stupid, as much as he was his best friend. As if you needed a physical heart to love someone. Deep in the heart of hope lived the most beautiful of women in existence, and she would wake soon. And her emergence would kill him in all the ways that didn’t matter. So in the face of that, why not give his best friend one last gift? A steady trail of heart’s blood was perhaps not quite equal to a heart, but for Grian- so caught up on the physicality of the world, the goof- it would do well enough. And perhaps, with this, he would stop moping. Heroes got their happy endings at the end of time, right? (Never Seen Anything “Quite Like You” by The Script)

Bloody hell. What a way to wake up. Stress stared out across the broken remains of a world blown apart by her emergence. How awful it was that her chance at life was paid at the price of a hundred thousand lives. Tears ran down her face. She did not want this. But soon, a man came to her, or a figment of one perhaps. A breath of comfort on the wind, blacker than pitch, black enough that pulled light from the void itself. It wrapped itself around her, kissing away her tears. Clothing her in mother of pearl- fitting, for she knew she was destined to bear forth a new heart of hope. She did not want this, but the affection was appreciated all the same. It would be the only kind touch she would receive in a while, the work would take up most of her free time for the next millennia at least. The void-black ghost introduced himself as Taurtis, at her service, to help her in her task. It was more freeing than service to his best friend, he explained. A service chosen, not owed or forced or bound. And besides, he whispered shyly. He loved her. And perhaps, as Stress turned her eyes to the newborn universe beyond, she could learn to love him too. (cover of On the Arrow by AFI, sung by Rachell Rose Mitchell)

In the distant black, a goddess bore forth a new universe, her shadow of a lover at her side. In the light of the sea, a ship capsized as the waters underneath shuddered and bucked, for the spirit that ensured the ship’s safety was dead. And the man aboard it did not drown. To his amazement, of course. He really had expected to die. But then, hearts full up of love are perhaps the lightest things around and instead of sinking, Grian floated. And when he saw he could do that, joy filled his heart, buoying him higher, and he swam. He had his true love to return to. And when he returned, soggy and beaming, he saw just what lengths his Mumbo had gone to watch him and he freed him from his prison of redstone and wire to kiss him awake. He laughed, giddy, despite Mumbo’s groggy confusion. They were free! Free of longing, of hoping, of heartlessness and cold metal substitutes for love. They could be together! Mumbo just blinked, once, twice, before breaking out into a bright peal of jingling laughter. They were free! He tried to pick up Grian to swing him into a kiss, but his long vigil in his machine left him loose-limbed and weak. Grian kissed him anyway. (Time to Run by Lord Huron)

-----

(Sailor Song) (This is Not Goodbye) (Neptune) (Voidfish Plural) (Golden Leaves) (Venus) (It's Alright) (Never Seen Anything "Quite Like You") (On the Arrow) (Time to Run)

#hermitcraft #my writing #minecraft #space #minor hermitshipping #taurtis #grian #stressmonster101 #vintagebeef #joe hills #mumbo jumbo #trigger warning: sam is mentioned #fanfiction

20 notes · View notes

tmnt-mags · 4 years

Text

Raphael x Fem!Reader

Reader is April's little sister and meets the turtles through her. I changed the ages and timeline a bit just because I don't feel entirely comfortable writing the turtles as 15 year old kids. SO the turtles are 18 the reader is 17 nearing 18 and april is 27.

Warnings: some mention of parent death, but nothing else!

Part 1/ ??

Im still pretty new at writing fanfic and have only done a few and this is my very first tmnt one. Constructive criticism and nice things only please!

I didn't remember my dad. My mother gave birth to me a month before his death. I didn’t remember him but my big sister April did. She told me everything she could about him, all kinds of stories and old home videos. It's almost like I know him but I don’t. Sometimes it's sad and I wish for nothing more than to have some memories with him, but I’ve had a good life and have a great family. I’ve lived with my sister since our mom passed 2 years ago from cancer. I miss her a lot, but I like living with April and I love our apartment.

We both have a deep love for media. She is a reporter with Channel 6 and I started making youtube videos right around the time mom died. It was like a video diary back then and has since turned into something completely different, though there are the occasional personal diary type videos.

I was wearing my favorite oversized sweater. It was a deep forest green and nearly reached my knees. It was worn and a bit tattered in some places, but it was the coziest thing ever.. I was barefoot in the kitchen listening to April talking about the latest Foot Clan activity and thinking about the questions she was planning for some guy who worked on the docks. She had convinced her camera guy Vern to take her over there before they shot her morning segment.

“You’re gonna be late!” I called into the living room while putting some breakfastt in a container for her to take on the road.

“Thank you shorty,” She rushed in and gave me a kiss on the cheek as she grabbed her breakfast and rushed out of the kitchen again to grab her bag “I’ll either be back for dinner or late!”

“That's really specific April,” I mutter as a lean in the kitchen doorway and watch her check her purse. “Do you have your touchup bag and your toothbrush?”

April let out a small gasp and rushed back to the bathroom. She came back out with a bag, gathered her things and blew a kiss as she ran out the door. I let out a laugh and went to eat my own food.

I spent the day editing a new video. I just hit 700k last week so I was making a special video to celebrate. It had some songs that I had covered laid over a video of me painting a portrait of my mother and father. It was taken a year before he had died and they had gone on a weekend getaway in the Appalachian mountains.

I didn't look up until April burst through the door. It was already dark out and I hadn’t even noticed.

“I just witnessed a Foot Clan attack!” she called as she walked through the apartment.

“What? Oh my god! Are you okay?” I practically jumped up and followed her as she began pacing around the living room. “April? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine! There I was at the docks trying to get some answers and then BAM! They were there!” She went on about the attack and then started about some kind of vigilante that fought them off.

“Vigilante? Are you serious?” She didn't answer, she just went into her room. I sat back down on the couch and tried to process what she had said. In the end I shook it off and went get some dinner ready.

Over the next few days April was hard to find. She seemed to be constantly on the move and didn't answer her phone. She came home talking about dad's old experiments and giant turtles, and over the next 2 days seemed to just be gone. The spire on the Sacks building fell and The Shredder, who was the leader of the Foot Clan, was arrested and Eric Sacks was revealed to have been working alongside him the whole time. It was a wild time for New York, and April was suddenly quiet about the vigilantes.

Time began to move on and April started talking about these 4 new friends she had that were brothers. They seemed like a fun nice group, and the stories she shared were great.

“So,” I started as we sat together on the couch, “when do I get to meet the brothers?”

April choked on her glass of white wine. “What? Meet them?”

“Yeah, You talk about them all the time! I would like to meet them. They’re all you’ve been talking about for like 3 weeks.” I said as I pushed her with my foot.

“Ummm,” April stopped to think and had a vague look of concern on her face, “I'm not sure actually. They’re pretty busy guys.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “Uh-huh. If you don't want me to meet them just say so. I was just curious.” I turn my face away from her.

“No it's not that, It's just they’re kinda shy. They don’t really like meeting people.” April's face said that she was telling a lie.

“Okay.” I left it at that clearly something is bugging her about me meeting her friends.

April-

April went to spend some time with the boys, but couldn’t stop thinking about them meeting her little sister. How would she react? She thought to herself, ‘I fainted when I met them, and there are still times when it kinda freaks me out a bit. I don’t want my baby sister to get scared and I don’t want the boys to get hurt because of it.’ They had tried to act like April’s reaction didn’t hurt them, but she knew it did. ‘I just want everyone to be happy.’ She was sitting in the lair watching the boys fight and Mikey brought up their Christmas pop album again. She smiled, (y/n) loved music and often performed covers on YouTube. She was really good at it. She had even written her own songs but at this point refused to release or talk about them on her channel.

“April, is something troubling you?” The brunette turned, surprised to see Master Splinter.

“Oh it’s nothing really.” She paused, “Actually could we talk? I am having some trouble.” Splinter nodded and gestured for her to follow. Not answering the questioning looks of the brothers, they went into Hashi.

“The boys avoid this room as much as possible,” Splinter said with a chuckle, “they will not listen in in here.”

“Makes sense,” April laughed and sat down on a mat with Splinter while looking at the odd structures in the room, “I’m having some trouble with my sister.”

“Oh yes, little (y/n) she had only just been born. I believe your father brought her down to the lab twice in those last weeks.” He thought back fondly on the small soft baby that looked so tiny in the arms of her father but so big compared to him then. “ what is it that is wrong?”

“She wants to meet the brothers. She doesn’t know that they are turtles, but she knows I have new friends.” April said looking down, “ we are very open. We’re the only family we have left so we always know each other's friends. It’s a safety thing I guess.”

Master Splinter hummed and looked at April, who continued.

“She wants to meet them and honestly I want her to too! I think they would all get along so well and I think the boys would adore her. It would also be nice to know that there are 4 ninjas who would look out for her.” April sighed and looked up at the ceiling.

“I just don’t want the boys to get hurt. What if she is afraid of them? What if she screams and calls them monsters or freaks? What if she passes out or cries. It would hurt them so much, and I don’t want to see my sister frightened anyway.” April’s shoulders slumped and she lowered her face to look across at Splinter.

“You know your sister well? Do you think she will react this way?” The rat questioned.

“I don’t know. This isn’t exactly a situation that has ever come up before or one I ever thought I would be in.” She played with her fingers in her lap and she watched him stroke his beard.

“I think you know your sister well and know what would be the best course of action.” He smiled, “I think the trouble now will be convincing the boys to risk meeting her. I have no doubt that it will be a split crowd.”

April nodded and gave a kind of exasperated smile. She knew exactly what he was talking about. Mikey and Ralph would agree, Donnie was iffy, but Leo would say no.

“Thank you Splinter. That does actually help. Do you mind if I stay in here a bit longer?” She asked.

“Go ahead child. Take your time.” Splinter got up and left the Hashi.

April sat and thought about what he had said. She thought back to everything she knew about her sister and what she knew of the boys. If her sister could be accepting she knew that they could have a great friendship. The boys were half a year older than her and they didn't know anyone their age. It would be nice for them to have that she thought. She knew Mikey would be super friendly right away, maybe even too friendly. Donnie would be polite but wary at first and a bit excited. Raph would be happy just to meet another person, but Leo would be cold. She feared that he would be distant and unapproachable and she knew her sister well enough to know she wouldn't be able to handle that.

She took her time and eventually rejoined the brothers. She brushed off their questions with a simple: “I needed advice.” She sat down with them as they all talked and joked around. Finally Donnie brought up the perfect opportunity.

“April you're lucky you don't have brothers.” He said as Mikey bombarded him with insane ideas for gadgets.

“Well I don't have any brothers but I do have a baby sister.” The turtles all turned towards her clearly shocked by this news. “She's actually about 4 months from turning 18.”

“Woah Angelcakes, We didn't know you had a lil’ sis. Is she as beautiful as you?” Mikey said while batting his eyes at her.

“I think she is absolutely gorgeous, and she sings and does art. She’s about to be a senior in high school.” April said while leaning closer to mikey. “Shes shorter than me and has curves for days. She used to be on the dance team actually.” April laughed and Mikey threw himself back and fanned himself with his hand.

“Why haven't you mentioned her?” Leo asked.

“You never asked if I had any siblings. She was born a few weeks before my dad died.” April smiled sadly at that “She actually asked if she could meet you.”

The boys seemed to freeze at that, and suddenly all eyes were on her.

“You told about us?”. Raph asked.

“Kinda. I might have left out the part about being ninja turtles, but I told her about my new friends and she wants to meet you guys.” Raph scoffed at her answer.

“So you didn't actually tell her about us.” He almost snapped at her.

“Cool it Raph.” leo warned.

“I don't wanna be looked at like a freak. She won't want to meet us when she sees us.” he stood up and walked off. April looked at the others who all looked like they wanted to disagree and agree with Raph at the same time.

“Sorry angelcakes, I'm sure baby angelcakes is great though.” Mikey shrugged.

April sat in disbelief that they all basically said no. The lair was quiet after that and she left after they ate some dinner.

She got home only to remember her sister was spending the night at her friends house. So she had the place all to herself. She let out a sigh and poured herself a tall glass of wine and sat on the couch thinking about the events of the day. She came up with a plan as she finished her cup and decided that by the end of the week they boys will have met her baby sister. She grabbed her phone and invited the boys to come hang out at her place for once this upcoming weekend. They didn't even ask if her sister would be there.

(Y/N)-

April had gone out to pick up some pizza for a late night dinner. I had school, homework, and some video editing to do and forgot to cook. April came home late and said not to worry about it and would grab some pizza. Her new favorite place didn’t offer delivery so she went to go get it. I decided that a nice hot shower sounded good and went in. I got out as I heard the front door open and close. I made my way to my room about to throw on my favorite green sweater only to remember that It had been washed and was in the dryer. So, I wrapped my towel back around me and opened my door to head out into the living room. I walked out and looked up only to meet with 4 pairs of eyes.

“Oh my bad,” I said, turning to go back to my room only to stop and turn right back around. “Ummmm…” I trailed off not sure what to say as I stared at 4 very large, very green, oddly human like turtles, all while in a bath towel that left most of my left hip exposed.

“Oh hi (y/n). I forgot to mention I had friends coming over.” April said walking into the room. “You might wanna put some clothes on though.”

“Yeah…” I said not able to look away from the very large turtle creatures sitting in the living room.

#tmnt #tmnt x reader #tmnt imagine #tmnt 2014

120 notes · View notes

silentexplorer18 · 5 years

Text

Tears: A Jughead Jones Short

Summary: Some people are just stronger than others, but everyone breaks eventually.

Pairing: Jughead Jones x reader

Warnings: Cursing, drug use, abuse, lots of emotions.

Read it here on AO3.

Read the Tears Series here on AO3.

Masterlist

When Jughead’s beanie had been stolen off his head, you’d been the one to find him crying outside his trailer. Even though the both of you were only six, you’d known Jughead long enough to instinctively realize that something was severely wrong if he was crying.

Jug never cried.

So you’d plopped down on the ground next to him, hand gently gripping his own until he’d regained his composure enough to tell you what had happened.

That night, you’d tracked down the little boy that had stolen your best friend’s hat and, being the ever gracious lady you were, punched him in the throat and, with a sickly sweet voice, reminded him that next time he’d actually get beat up by a girl. You’d never seen Jughead more happy than when you slipped his beanie back over his head with a tousle of his raven locks.

He never mentioned the crying incident, and you found it your duty to bring him up instead of reminding him of events that tore him down.

In the years that followed, the two of you remained hip and hip; there were long days at Pop’s, slumber parties, and nights out in the woods staring at the stars. You were just friends, never more than that, and although you thought he was the handsomest, most incredible boy you’d ever met, your friendship with him meant more to you than anything your heart could ever want.

The next time he cried, you were curled next to him on the same trailerpark wall, arms circled around his shoulders as he sobbed into your chest. His desperate, ragged breaths broke your heart as he relived the moment his family splintered apart over and over in his mind.

All you could do was hold him, cradle him against your chest and remind him that everything would work out in the end.

Raising his head from your tearstained shirt, he desperately pleaded, “Don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me. I can’t lose you, too. You and my dad are all I have left.”

Shushing him, you pulled his head back to your chest, running your fingers through his wild hair as your pressed your lips to the crown of his head in an attempt to keep from crying, too. “I’ll never leave you, Juggie. I’ll never abandon you. I’m right here.” He nodded, arms squeezing you tighter as you felt the tears water in your eyes.

You loved him.

When he’d moved into the projection room, you were the only one he told, and when the building of your childhood was threatened with being flattened, you’d been the one to wrap Jughead in a hug, glassy eyes gazing at the carnage silently.

You had to be strong for him.

When he was taken in for questioning, you’d stayed by the door, shooting glares at every officer that moved in your direction. After being released, he instinctively took your hand, pulling you out of the building, past his friends and his father. The two of you got milkshakes at Pop’s, you doing most of the talking while he receded into his introspective self. It wasn’t until you’d taken his hand and pulled him from the restaurant that he focused back in on you, offering you a gentle hug before he went home.

That night you curled up on your bed and cried, thinking of what could’ve happened if they hadn’t let him go. He was your best friend. You couldn’t lose him.

You promised you wouldn’t leave him.

When the day rolled around that FP Jones was taken into custody for the murder of Jason Blossom, you’d been the one Jughead had ran to, arms enveloping your figure as heartbroken sobs echoed in your ears. He shattered in your arms, the last small fragment of family he had evaporating. You had cuddled his tears away and encouraged him in all his pursuits of recovery, be it writing or investigating or joining the Serpents.

You had patched him up through all his toughest moments, reminding him that someone cared.

The last thing you were expecting to see when you stopped by that Saturday morning with a casserole and box of homemade cookies was Betty Cooper, disheveled and not totally dressed, greeting you at the door, a shirtless Jughead arriving behind her moments later.

They both saw the shock and hurt that flashed through your eyes, but you quickly plastered on your best fake smile, shoving the food into Betty’s arms as quickly as possible. “I figured Jug would be hungry this weekend, I know how he hates to cook and there’s only so much Pop’s he can eat before I start getting concerned for his health.” Your eyes didn’t meet Jughead’s as you spoke, and he knew the reason why.

He’s always suspected you loved him behind that friendly facade.

You gave a half-assed smile before turning and racing back down the steps, quickly trotting off through the trailers back to your home.

Your broken home.

The home where your parents were getting a divorce and your brother was into Ghoulie drugs and your little sister had been taken away to a mental asylum for self harm. The home you had kept hidden from Jughead all these years because you needed to be strong for him.

Until the walls crashed down around you.

Jughead didn’t need you anymore with another girl around.

Like he’d ever really needed you to begin with, your mind taunted.

You were just convenient for him.

Shaking your head, you tried to knock the painful thoughts away, knowing they wouldn’t do you any good.

That evening, your parents had started fighting, a screaming match erupting in the kitchen that included plenty of broken furniture. When the doorbell rang, David opened it, snarling at the visitor in his Jingle Jangle fog. As you rushed to the door, the last person you were expecting to see was Jughead, wary eyes gazing at your brother. “I’m sorry about him,” you whispered, grabbing the knob of the door and pulling it shut as you stepped onto your porch, pulling him down into the grass in the hopes you would be able to hear him better. You followed his gaze to the crash that sounded through the window as your parents threw God knows what at each another. Pulling your sweater a little tighter around your front, you murmured, “What’s up, Jug?”

His eyes trained on you again, but the bizarre noises from the house continued to persist. “(Y/n), what’s going on here?”

Your cheeks reddened as you suddenly found an immense fascination with the tuft of grass beside your shoe. “Nothing you need to worry about.”

Instinctively, his hand reaches out to lift your chin up, forcing your eyes to meet his own. “If I don’t need to worry, you shouldn’t have a problem telling me about it.” Sighing, you reluctantly explained your situation, hating the looks of concern and utter befuddlement that settled across his perfect features. “Why didn’t you say anything about it?”

As another crash sounded from your home, water began to flood your eyes, a few gentle tears trickling down your cheeks as you attempted to not cry. “I’m supposed to be strong for you, Juggie,” you whispered, voice breaking. “Besides, you have Betty to care for.”

“But you’re my best friend,” he whispered, eyes scanning your face in hope.

“Yeah, but you should be taking care of your girlfriend, not me.” You winced as you heard a particularly loud crash come from the kitchen.

After a few moments, the door slammed open, your brother frothing at the mouth as he came toward you. “Where are the fucking keys? You hid the fucking keys again.”

“You shouldn’t be driving like this,” you argued.

“I’ll drive however the fuck I want. Where are the fucking keys, bitch?”

Another crash sounded from the house followed by a scream as your brother continued to draw closer, tower over you. Looking from your house to your brother to Jughead, your strength began to falter. All the bravery you held was beginning to wash away as the stress of everything came to the surface at once. Your emotions were bubbling, overwhelming you with stress. Jughead could see the strength falling from your face as your eyes began to water.

“I just can’t do this. I’m sorry,” you whispered, a few stray tears trickling down your cheeks despite your best efforts to keep them at bay. You turned, racing away through the trailer part in an attempt to find somewhere else, anywhere else, to be. Slipping through the fence, you wandered off, leaving your angry brother and your stunned best friend in your wake.

And in that instant Jughead Jones realized he’d never once seen you cry. And apparently he never would.

Like this fic? Find the other three parts to the series here on AO3.

A/N: I hope y’all like it! It’s not the happiest of fics, but I really enjoyed writing it. As always, shoot me a message and let me know what you think! Have a great day!

#jughead jones #jughead jones x reader #jughead x reader #jughead jones fic #jughead jones imagine

142 notes · View notes

coloursflyaway · 6 years

Note

Dirk+Todd: 57+24 - Thor+Loki: 100+4 - Harry + Eggsy: 60+70 (You don't have to do all of them, but I'd be so happy :D)

Dirk/ Todd, 57: Forgotten First Meeting and 24: Soulmate AU

Oh Jesus, I actually kind of started to write a fanfic about that and never finished it!But anyway. This is like, almost but not quite what you asked, but I hope good enough after all (: (Meine Deutschlehrerin hätte es wohl trotzdem eine Themenverfehlung genannt)

They’re younger still, Dirk has just come to America, and everything is new and bright and loud and beautiful and he loves every second. He’s scared, too, also every second of it, but that doesn’t matter quite as much, not when everything is so exciting. He buys new clothes, and incredible amounts of pizza, and life is good, at least for now. Sometimes there are cases, sometimes he even solves them, and it should be enough, but after a while, it isn’t anymore. There’s has always been this itch inside of him (if Dirk had ever known a home before, he’d call it homesickness), and back in England he had learnt to live with it, but now, in this new, strange land, he finds that it gets worse with every beat of his heart, every breath he takes. He doesn’t know why, or what causes it, but one night he wakes up, choking on it, and there is just one thought left in his mind; he needs to walk. And walk he does, without knowing where to, only that with every step he takes, it gets a bit easier to breathe. The city around him turns dirty, run-down, but he keeps walking, until he’s standing underneath a window that’s brightly lit, open although Dirk is fairly certain that it’s dangerous to keep it that way in the night.A moment passes in which he doesn’t know why he has stopped, then a guitar starts to play, and a voice belts out two, three, four words, and Dirk is home. He knows that voice although he never heard it before, he knows the person behind it, although they never met. And he knows they’ll meet, someday, somewhere, and that he’ll look at them and never leave again. It takes another five years, seven months, two weeks and twenty-eight days until he finds out that the band he listened to under that window was called Mexican Funeral, and seven days less than that to find his soulmate.

Thor/Loki, 4: Coffee Shop AU and 100: Accidentally Savingthe Day

(I’m really bad at getting these topics right 100%)

It’s not that Thor wanted to start working in the shop, it just happened. The world is quiet after all, now after Thanos has only left half of them alive, too many empty spaces to be filled. Thor tries not to think of what is left of him, or his heart, or what used to fill it, so he spends as much time as possible outside, sometimes just walking, sometimes helping, sometimes finding a spot in this empty city that’s loud enough to make it impossible to think. One of those is a small café, which used to be run by a couple, now only one woman who looks twenty years older than her age, and cries in the kitchen when she thinks no one notices, clutching a tattered photo to her chest. At first, it’s only supposed to be a small act of kindness, because Thor knows she needs the money, and there is a man, who has been waiting to be served for ten minutes at least without her reappearing, swollen eyes or not. So he gets up from his seat, walks behind the counter and makes the best cup of coffee he possibly can. It must still taste bitter, but the man just thanks him, hands him a bill and leaves. Thor doesn’t need his dead brother’s magic to know that the man he just served is as broken, as splintered inside as he is, as the woman running this café is. And it doesn’t help to help him, not really, but it is something to do and something to forget yourself in, and Thor figures that, if any of the Avengers needed him, they’d find him eventually. So he stays.

He doesn’t come to work every day, and if, he doesn’t always help, but the owner, Ingrid, he learns, and he find an understanding without ever talking about it. Sometimes, she leaves for hours on end, comes back drunk, or crying, or not at all; sometimes he flinches when someone with green eyes comes inside, or cannot speak when a young man smiles with just enough mischief in his eyes. Once, he punches a hole into the wall when a young woman asks him how he is holding up. Ingrid just puts a poster up over it.

Then, one day, there’s an attack. Nothing special, at least not by his standards, some other race, come to enslave humanity once more, and Thor could fight them, should fight them, but he’s tired. He has lived millennia and suddenly he feels each year weighing him down, and he knows Ingrid feels almost the same, so while he could try, he doesn’t. Instead, he takes a punch, takes a second, finds that the pain gets easier to bear with every drop of blood they beat out of him.

His nose splinters under a fist, his lip splits open, and suddenly the air next to him moves, swirls, tastes tart and familiar on his tongue. Thor opens his eyes, although the blood makes them sting, watches the air turn golden and green and black in front of him. It shouldn’t be possible, not until he’s stepped foot in Valhalla, and yet Loki is there, his armor glistening in the sunlight and his expression screaming murder. Slender fingers thread themselves into his hair, pull his head back until Loki can look at him properly. There is something like pity in his eyes, or maybe it’s just pain; Thor only has a moment to recognise it. Maybe it’s love. “Stand down”, Loki hisses, and although his words are hardly loud enough to stir the air, no one dares to move. “He’ll be mine to kill once Ragnarök comes.”

Harry/Eggsy, 60: Poorly TimedConfession and 70: Locked in a Room

“Oh, you have got to be kiddin’ me.” Eggsy tries the doorknob again, pushes his shoulder into the door, but it won’t budge, just like the last time he tried this. Or the one before. Or the one before. It’s not his fault, though, not really, because the Statesman HQ is huge, and he has gotten lost more often than not, and there are four different doors to choose from in the kitchen. Usually, he chooses the right ones, too, but apparently not in a panic.

“Eggsy?”, comes a voice from the other side, Harry, who sounds genuinely concerned. “Are you alright?”It’s a difficult question to answer; physically, yes, psychologically? Not quite. Not after he unthinkingly told Harry, “G’night for now, love you”, before realising what he had said, tried to run out of the room, but instead got himself locked up in the supply closet. “Yes?”, he tries anyway, finds that he sounds as unconvincing as he feels. “Mostly.”

There is a pause, loaded, it feels at least to Eggsy, who stops jingling the doorknob and instead just sinks down onto the floor to wallow in misery there. He doesn’t think Harry is going to hate him for this - he can’t call it crush, not when it’s so much more - this thing, but he will try to talk to Eggsy about it, and everything between them will be incredibly uncomfortable from now, and at the moment, that sounds almost as bad.

“Is there something you would like to tell me?”, Harry finally says, every word pronounced carefully, slowly, like Eggsy is a small animal he is trying not to frighten. “I really think saying it once is bad enough”, Eggsy responds, and there is half a chuckle in his voice, born of desperation, not mirth. “It hasn’t changed much in the two minutes you haven’t seen me, bruv.”Again, a pause, the shuffle of shoes and a mumbling that sounds like Harry is talking to himself, then, “So you did mean it.”

Harry says it with wonder in his voice, something almost sounding like amazement, and Eggsy won’t hope, he won’t, he - “You know, dear boy”, Harry says, and his voice still sounds the same, just warmer, softer. “I quite return the sentiment.”

It doesn’t take a moment for Eggsy to understand the words Harry is saying, it doesn’t even take a minute, or two, it takes a year at least, a century at most.“You what?”, he asks back, halfway through it, and Harry, still hidden behind that blasted door, laughs. “Love you too”, he replies, and Eggsy’s brain short-circuits, has him on his feet, pressed against the wood within a second. “What?”, he asks again, like it‘s the only word he’s still able to form. “Do I really have to repeat myself?”, Harry asks instead of answering, “The answer hasn’t changed much in the few seconds you haven’t asked.”“Kinda. Yeah”, Eggsy mutters, rests his head against the door; if he has wished this door to hell before, now he’s ready to carry it there himself. There’s a tentative happiness starting to blossom in the back of his mind, lighter than anything else he has ever felt, and so overwhelming Eggsy isn’t sure he’ll be able to take in all of it at once.

“I love you, then”, Harry says again, softly now, as if he was pressed against the door too. Eggsy really hopes he is. This time, the happiness almost washes him away, makes him dizzy. It still hasn’t quite sunken in that he could really, truly have this, Harry by his side, holding his hand, kissing him, but it will with time. As soon as he can get past this door, and look at Harry while he says those words again.

“Get me the fuck out of here, Harry”, he says, no, demands, closes his eyes and tries to imagine how it’ll be to be with the only person he never thought he could have a chance with. “And I swear, if you don’t kiss me so hard I’ll see stars once I am, you’ll be sleeping on the couch tonight.”“I think I can do both.”

Send me two tropes, a ship and I’ll write you a far too long ficlet about it

#ficlets #thorki #brotzly #hartwin #sorry this took forever btw #mattmurdick

39 notes · View notes

loveinclined-archive · 6 years

Text

headcanons : silly stuff

RE: CASSANDRA-ISMS

when cassandra was nine, she was walking home with dulcie and keandra through one of the huge buildings where griffins nest, and a bunch of griffin eggs hatched…and all imprinted on cassandra. cassandra had no choice to but to care for the babies, with the mother griffin moving into the family’s front yard.

her mothers were not happy.

cassandra will sometimes speak in a singsong voice, just because she’s used to it, and it’s not really weird to her to do it- she’ll also do it to convey different emotions if she’s talking with someone who knows capellan enough to get it.

an amazing headcanon that sammun came up with is that a singsong voice is also cassandra’s like slurred voice- when she’s tired or drunk.

as the boys get older, cassandra isn’t as afraid to swear around them- by now, it’s nothing they haven’t heard before…but she’s always careful not to swear around the boys & splinter

however she still does not let the boys swear casually- if its out of anger, or surprise, she’ll let it slide, but other than that…she’ll make them go brush their teeth. this comes from her misunderstanding the concept of washing someone’s mouth with soap- she thinks the goal of it is to simply clean their mouth. donatello has the best dental hygiene bc of this

cassandra always has party poppers on her, without fail. she carries usually 2 or 3 in her bag or pocket, and it’s gotten the point where she’ll use them for the most mundane of things. just did the dishes? time to fucking party. mikey’s been cooking? party popper. donnie made something cool? that gets TWO party poppers.

the best time though is after a battle, when everyone’s tired and aching, and suddenly cassandra’s just. popping party poppers.

cassandra probably hasn’t been around a lot of animals/pets to be honest?? like her family didn’t have pets on capella, ioavis was exclusively populated by ioavians, she might have encountered these huge, lizard like beasts pyrrites used as horses on pyrrah, but she never got attached to them…

so mikey’s cats & of course, spike, are cassandra’s first experiences with pets! and tbh? cassandra loves cats. don’t even try to talk to her if there’s a cat in the room that she hasn’t encountered before, because she’s going to try to befriend it.

cassandra wouldn’t get a pet cat because she knows they unnerve splinter, and she feels like it’s fair because she’s pretty much the same way with dogs. it’s an unspoken rule- splinter wouldn’t introduce a dog into the family because she’s scared of dogs, cassandra won’t do that with cats.

anyway it should be noted that cassandra looks down on fortune-tellers/clairvoyants who pass off their visions as Fate and Unavoidable. she’s more lenient if the clairvoyant genuinely did not know that fate really…isn’t a thing (at the very least, to the rest of the galaxy). but on the whole, cassandra will be quick to “correct” them and will honestly talk down to them.

likewise, anyone who tries to pass off bad deeds as simply being “fate” will be regarded with scorn from cassandra. and those who try to write off their good deeds as their destiny will be assured that their deeds were of their own doing- they chose to be good.

i should probably talk more about this- in my lore, fate & destiny do not exist. of course, the concept of them exists but most of the universe knows it to be false. prophecies aren’t a thing, and if they are, they’re more of guidelines than “this will definitely happen.” if this conflicts with someone else’s lore, i’d love to talk about it and reach some kind of middle ground! but yes, fate does not exist in my lore.

cassandra has definitely taken the boys trick or treating before.

if we’re going off “hello, clairvoyant?” canon and not….canon canon, then splinter might have taken them once before? since they are like 6 years old in ‘hello, clairvoyant?’

paola paints ‘seams’ onto the boys so they look like they’re wearing costumes

it takes a few years, but cassandra Goes All Out for halloween. decorating the lair, watching halloween movies, etc.

she loves to dress up too tbqh. she’s been a witch, a knight, and a pirate before.

gosh but i can see paola dressing up as vivi from final fantasy and joining them.

all versions of cassandra need glasses- classic cassandra usually wears contacts, but keeps her old glasses on hand in case she needs them. hellion has either healed or eyes or hasn’t, but just refuses to wear glasses.

when she counts on her fingers she starts with pinky

she adores fruit, especially chocolate covered fruit. she also loves crunchy peanut butter. her family has caught her just eating peanut butter straight out of the jar with a spoon many times before. her favorite food ever is pop rocks, and is usually eating them at the worst possible moment.

cassandra has a habit of speaking without really meaning to, especially when she’s got a lot on her mind.

hope everyone likes pumpkin spice, bc that’s the only flavored food cassandra’s buying for all of fall. even those nasty pumpkin spice m&ms

the boys definitely played with cassandra’s hair a lot when they were younger- they were absolutely fascinated by it at first and honestly still are. sometimes the boys offer to brush her hair for her because they like playing with her hair

cassandra really likes picking people up. not like flirting but like physically picking them up and carrying them places. she likes showing off her strength and likes being close to ppl when she carries them.

cassandra’s always very affectionate but on holidays like national cuddle up day (january 6th), valentine’s day, national kissing day (july 6th), national hand holding day (today) give her and Excuse™ to be even more affectionate

i can totally see cassandra liking superman (last of his kind? very powerful but also a nerd? hmm…sounds familiar).

it takes a lot for her to get drunk, but once she is drunk…goodbye emotional barriers. she cries 500% more but usually it’s happy crying. and she’s vERY likely to blurt out a love confession when drunk.

cassandra is also extremely clingy when drunk and will lean on you or lay on you.

cassandra loves to sit in the tree in the dojo. sometimes she’ll sit in on the boys and splinter training and just sit up there watching them. cassandra likes being up high and swinging on stuff, so she probably sits on the tire swing a lot too.

cassandra cheats during family game night unless someone says “mom don’t use your clairvoyance.” in her mind, if you don’t remember that she’s clairvoyant, that’s on you.

cassandra would absolutely learn how to do card tricks to impress the boys- maybe even just on her own. cassandra’s that person who will pull out a deck of cards at a party and will do magic tricks to get out of having to actually have meaningful conversations with people

glow in the dark stars are something unique to earth, and cassandra is just in love with them, so she puts them all over the lair on the ceiling, in her bedroom, in paola’s cabin, and in her spaceship. glow in the dark stars everywhere.

cassandra makes sure all her kids know how to sew. leo got really good at it and can actually make some p decent looking stuff- he’s best at stuffed animals tho.

whether or not cassandra is weaker than her partner, if they’re sparring she’s still gonna throw them off by kissing them

everyone cassandra knows has, at some point, gotten some form of winter gear that she’s made from her for christmas or during the holiday season. it’s generally the first holiday you spend with the family, honestly. cassandra just wants to make sure everyone’s warm enough during the winter

cassandra absolutely taught the boys how to play their instruments. in addition, she taught raph how to play the trombone.

as the boys get older and start to push away cassandra’s affection (for the sake of being “cool” and “mature”) her heart breaks a little more every time they reject a hug or kiss on the cheek/forehead.

since cassandra herself struggles with being organized and neat, her rule is that the common area, kitchen, dojo and lab have to be clean. the boys’ rooms can be as messy as they like, but everywhere else has to be clean

gross thing cassandra will do to freak people out: put food that maybe shouldn’t be eaten raw in her mouth and cook it in her mouth, then stick her tongue out so people can see it. however, she can’t cook with her inclination- at least, not well.

cassandra smells like cinnamon & apples & campfires & (sometimes) sweat. she might smell like smoke if she’s just got home from work, but she usually takes showers right away after getting from responding to a fire.

since cassandra has both time blindness from her adhd, and also an incredible awareness of time as it moves due to being an augur, cassandra’s perception of time is really messed up. you will frequently hear her say “time isn’t real.”

#♥ ╎ and the universe said everything you need is within you. / headcanons : all.#♥ ╎ AND THE UNIVERSE SAID I LOVE YOU. / headcanons : isms.#long post //

1 note · View note

blame-canada · 7 years

Text

Tempt a Demon, Pay the Price

Craig Tucker was not religious in any sense of the term, but money was money, and Eric Cartman was convincing. Becoming a cheesy sideshow of a falsified church was not his idea of a good time, but a wild encounter he’d never have expected might turn that around.

Hey guys so uhhh I definitely wrote this. Imp Tweek x Youth Pastor Craig has kind of exploded and I wanted to join in on the fun but since drawing isn’t really my thing, I figured writing would have to do. I actually like this one despite it being cracky so hopefully you guys do too! Link to AO3 here! Here’s some uhh, yeah. Some of this. Special thanks to Phone Destroyer for gifting us these ridiculous AUs.

Note: alternatively titled ‘The Gayte To Hell.’ I loved myself too much to actually go through with it, sorry.

Performing fake exorcisms and reading off the same script twice a week in a rotation of four major themes was not how Craig expected his adolescence to go. Surely, he thought, there would be one or two summer flings which would end in melodramatic heartbreak, and a few obsessions to cycle through in ridiculous phases he’d insist were not phases. Yet here he was, stuck in the sweltering heat of a church’s atrium, fanning himself with a promotional pamphlet and doodling in his notebook that was supposed to be filled with notes. It wasn’t; it was filled with more doodles.

“And Butters, I want to hear those bells next time, got it? The bells are important. Everyone loves the bells!”

“U-uh, yes Eric, sir,” Butters stuttered, and Craig huffed as he rolled his eyes. He could have been getting drunk at Clyde’s right now. He could have been stuffed in a closet with someone hot right now. He could have been losing his virginity right now. Those were fantasies, though, and right now, Craig liked money, and he liked cheating people out of said money. Cartman’s undeniably for-profit church fit that bill, and so here he stayed, seventeen and devoted to a God he did not believe in.

Truthfully, Craig had never set foot in a church in his life when Cartman made the initial offer. ‘We’ll be making bank, Craig!’ Cartman had insisted, and though Craig knew those words meant absolutely nothing positive when considering their history, he was feeling particularly moody and impulsive that afternoon, and something as idiotic as falsifying an entire church for cash definitely fulfilled the primal teenaged urge to do something reckless. Most kids scribbled on walls or did drugs to rebel. South Park kids started wars and Ponzi schemes.

Every couple of weeks or so Eric Cartman would make them gather ‘round in the atrium of the church to discuss any changes to the routine and make sure everything was in working order. It meant inspecting the fog machines and the motorized furniture, which was the best part, and listening to Cartman gripe about having lost a negligible fraction of money in the past week, which was the worst part. Any moment now and it’d be Craig’s turn to get yelled at. Wonderful.

“Craig, I’m thinking your routine is getting a little stale,” he sneered, a hand to his chin in what he probably thought looked scheming when it just looked stupid, and Craig shrugged at him. “Maybe we should amp up the bullshit, you know, make it cheesier.”

Craig snorted. “How do you get cheesier than, ‘open your heart to salvation!’?” He imitated the bad kind-of Southern accent he usually did with the opening line of his act, and Cartman scrunched up his face in an ugly frown.

“I don’t know, asshole, just play it up! Get more fog machines, fuck! Your job is to be convincing.” He was scowling, which was always a terrible expression on him, which made the whole conversation suddenly amusing.

“We both know I’m a terrible actor,” he countered. He crossed his arms and hoped Cartman’s face would start turning purple.

“You’ve been doing this for over a year and you’ve gotten much better than when you started. Figure it out,” Cartman insisted, an accusatory finger jabbed in his direction. Craig flipped him off and sighed as he leaned forward into his notebook. There wasn’t much more to the meeting, and he wanted to finish his sketch of a dragon. It was pretty messed up, and he was probably going to take a picture of it to post on twitter. He had the handle baddragons and he used it to post pictures of poorly drawn dragon sketches on the corners of his papers. He got a lot of angry DMs looking for the dildos of a common name. He thought it was a pretty good joke.

Cartman wrapped up the meeting five minutes later, and dictated that Craig check all the door locks this time before leaving. The building was a dump, but it was the foundation on which they’d built their lies, and they needed a church for people to come to if they wanted to continue making incredible amounts of money. This month was funded by donations to a non-existent homeless shelter for kids with cancer, and it was astounding that none of the churchgoers bothered to look up the organization they claimed was real and just dumped their cash in the collection buckets. Tithe had been taken to a whole new level, and it was as ugly and stupid as the dragons on his troll twitter account.

The church sometimes felt creepy at night, and that was especially true when no one else was there with him. His colleagues had escaped as soon as Cartman had ended his spiel about the importance of proper fog machine use (to embellish the mysterious effect they were looking for). Craig was supposed to be removing the evil spirits from the souls of their planted audience members. Obviously, this meant there had to be smoke coming from the walls. The regulars ate the shit up, and it was frankly embarrassing that they’d refused to catch on. Humanity was such a waste.

He was halfway through blowing out all the over-the-top candelabras at the altar when a creaking sound squeaked underneath his feet. Craig shuffled his weight between legs to try to trigger it again, but he felt nothing out of the ordinary in the flooring that could have caused the squeaking in the first place, and he shrugged and moved on.

A few moments later the floor did it again, and this time Craig turned around to look for a source of the sound. The church was so dimly lit he could hardly see a thing, but what he could see looked normal. He was about to turn around and return to his candle-snuffing when the floor did it again, but this time louder, and it sounded more like a groan than a creak.

Craig tensed. He refused to die in some fucked up church when he didn’t even believe in God in the first place. Absolutely not. He carefully shifted the candle extinguisher to brandish it like a baton should he need to strike a threat. He waited.

A rush of hot air flew through the building and put out the remaining candles one by one, and at the same time, the ground below him began to shake. Craig bent his knees in a defensive stance to keep his balance. From the floorboards came what started as a groan and turned into a wail, which turned into screaming that made his ears feel like they were bleeding and felt like claws gouging at the flesh of them at the same time. In his surprise, he dropped the extinguisher, and brought both palms up to his ears to try to drown out the cries. It sounded like thousands of horrified voices moments before death, and even though Craig couldn’t care less about that part, it must have had some sort of magic to it because his eyes welled up with tears that he couldn’t control or understand.

From the place in the floor that the screaming exploded grew a light, warm and orange which turned to a blinding yellow the louder the voices cried. His hands weren’t helping, and he was resisting the urge to scratch at his ears in an attempt to stop the horrid sounds. The light and sound disappeared for one blissful second where Craig thought it might be over, but as soon as the silence in the air began to ring, an explosion burst from the floorboards in the center of the aisle.

Craig choked on a gasp and hacked as he backed away as quickly as he could without falling. His back pressed against his podium, and he watched as the cheap wooden floor panels splintered and broke apart to leave room for a hole split right through the earth that glowed an angry red-orange, like the flames of a fire. Never in all his life had he ever felt so compelled to talk to God.

He was about to start awkwardly reciting lines he’d learned in his pseudo-studies when out of the hole popped a ragged, fiercely clawed hand, which spread its pointed tips to dig itself into the wood. Craig shrieked, and any semblance of confidence or security fled from him at such a supernatural sight. The hand braced itself, and it pushed down with all its might to make the slab of wood collapse under its weight and heave to the surface a body curled inward.

Craig covered his mouth to prevent his panicked gasping for air from making sounds. In front of him, in front of the hole that undoubtedly led to Hell (which Craig had not believed in until personally witnessing its existence just now), was what looked like a boy.

At first glance he seemed normal, but from his back spread two huge crimson wings, leathery like a bat’s, and Craig spotted two matching horns sprouting from within messy golden locks of hair. The wings grew larger as they unfolded, and soon they were easily surpassing the width of the aisle, splayed fully out. Behind him a tail like a rat’s swung back and forth like a dog’s, a telltale spade at the end of it twitching. “A demon,” Craig whispered, and he yelped when the creature’s head shot up to meet his gaze with piercing cat’s eye pupils in fiery yellow irises.

“An imp, actually,” he said, and with each flap of his lips Craig saw canines sharp as daggers lining his gums. He gulped, his throat suddenly feeling dry as a desert, and the demon boy tilted his head slowly, carefully.

“You’re not like the others,” he said, and it took a few moments for Craig to compose himself before he realized the boy was staring at him, waiting for an explanation.

“I’m not really a pastor!” Craig held his hands up in the air as though it might help prove his innocence. His gut twisted and he fought the urge to vomit with all his being. The ground was still screaming, and he was finding himself drawn to staring at it instead of the demon in front of him.

“Oh yeah, s-sorry about that, hang on,” the boy said, and with a snap, the hole was gone and the screeches were completely silenced. Craig looked up into his intense eyes again and found that even with the gate to hell closed, there was still a sound that surrounded him, almost like a low chanting or hum that represented his raw energy. He stood up straight, and that was when Craig realized that the second half of his body was not human, but furry and cloven hooved. Dear God.

He tilted his head again, and leaned on the pitchfork Craig hadn’t noticed he had. “You say you’re not a servant to the Lord?”

“I-I honestly don’t even know what that means,” Craig said quickly. “I don’t even believe! Well, okay, now I might, but. Before that, no. I do this for money!”

The demon nodded. “I knew that much, and that’s why I came here to drag you to Hell. I don’t know, though…” He trailed off, and raised a clawed finger to press it to his lower lip in thought. “Y-you’re pretty cute, nnh, for a human.” He twitched to the left and frowned.

Craig stuttered, lost for words or what to say really, but when he did finally speak, it was not at all what he wanted to say. “You too!” he exclaimed, and he covered his mouth immediately afterwards as though it could rescind his statement. What an embarrassment.

The demon boy chuckled. The sound was melodic and shook with the humming of his energy so that it reverberated in the church’s echoey chambers, and it was beautiful. Craig wasn’t sure if he was supposed to find it beautiful. Demons were supposed to be the worst, after all, according to his made-up scripture. Craig was supposed to be banishing demons. This one seemed pretty okay, though, and even though Craig was shaking so badly he felt like he might fall apart at the seams, he wasn’t all that threatening. That is, if he could get past the teeth and claws and wings, and horns, and hooves. He was particularly fixated on the cherry-red appendages sticking out of his back.

“Y-you like them?” the demon asked, and he made one flapping motion with his wings for good measure. The wind of it brushed Craig’s hair back and nearly ripped his hat clean off. Luckily he was still crouched against his podium, or else he probably would have stumbled from the wind force.

“Who are you?” Craig finally asked. The demon’s head tilted even further to the side in a way that made Craig think it must hurt his neck, but he seemed content.

“I’m not supposed to tell you,” he started, “but I like you, so I’m Tweek.” He smiled, and it would have been sweet if he didn’t have terrifyingly sharp fangs taunting him behind his lips. The demon boy named Tweek was pretty, Craig would admit, with high cheekbones and elongated features that made him look lanky but somehow beautiful, like a dancer. His eyes were proving just as incredibly sharp as the first time he met them, and they danced on their own with their own fires. He was fascinating to look at, and Craig was mesmerized. The way Tweek giggled made Craig think he’d been caught staring.

“So...yeah. Hell, I guess. You really shouldn’t do this, y-you know,” Tweek lectured, gesturing at the church. “The only reason I can come in here is that your church is so illegitimate, you have no protective worship energy surrounding it. None of you believe at all. I-isn’t that sad, t-to just, not believe in something?” He frowned slightly. “It seems lonely. If I was allowed to like God, I probably would. He seems nice.”

Craig shook his head. “Okay, I’m sorry, but I have no idea what’s happening. Am I dreaming? What the fuck did I take?” he asked, and Tweek laughed at him again.

“You didn’t take anything. You just fucked up and I’m here to make you pay.”

“Oh, good,” Craig mumbled. “I always wanted to become a martyr.”

“I don’t think this counts as martyrdom. You’re not even religious. You’re just a shitty person.” Tweek looked surprised, his cat eyes blinking slowly. “You don’t want to make your case before I toss you in, then?” Tweek stepped forward, his wings rising to glide over the pews. The closer he got, the grander they became, until Craig was so enamored with them that he wanted to reach out and pet just one finger on the skin that webbed Tweek’s wings together.

“I don't really have a case. I know this is wrong.” Craig shrugged. He was starting to feel more comfortable, and his shaking had been reduced to adrenaline-fueled tremors. Now that he looked closer, Tweek seemed to be shaking slightly too. “Are you afraid of me too?” he asked, but he instantly regretted it the moment Tweek snorted at him.

“N-no,” he smirked, “I just shake. God made me wrong so Satan took me instead. He’s very, ngh,” Tweek twitched violently mid-sentence, “nice! You'd like him, I think. Most do. Let's go!” Tweek snapped and the hole in the ground reappeared, squealing at full-force.

“You want me to get in that?” Craig yelled over the cries, and Tweek gave him a confused look.

“W-well, you don't really have a choice.”

“No?” Craig asked, and Tweek shook his head. Craig rubbed his hands together and did what he did best: scam his way through a tight spot. “You're a devil, right?” Tweek nodded slowly. “Wouldn't the more devilish thing to do be to… I dunno, defy your orders and steal me away for yourself?” Craig crossed his fingers behind his back.

Tweek’s eyes practically glowed. “Wow, would you really let me do that?” Craig nodded, very subtly as he was still very uncertain, but he did. “That sounds fun!” He shrieked and the high pitch of his voice rattled the windows and pierced Craig’s brain like an instant migraine. “O-oh, sorry. I forget you're so fragile.” He looked sheepish, which was not a description Craig thought he would ever give a demon. Then again, Craig hadn't believed in demons until one quite literally showed up in front of him.

“You still have to get in, though,” Tweek said, frowning. “I can fly but I don't want to fly out of here in such a small town. Satan doesn't like when we’re spotted. I want to teleport a little ways out. Is that okay?”

“No,” Craig said, his stomach flipping again at the sight of the flames beneath the floorboards. “But I guess I have no choice.”

“Nope!” Tweek said cheerfully, and Craig sighed.

“Okay,” he said, feeling as though he'd either horribly regret or fondly recall his decision, “take me away, demon boy.”

“I'm an imp,” Tweek corrected, but Craig rolled his eyes.

“Whatever, imp boy. Let's go.”

His stomach erupted into butterflies at the excited gleam in Tweek’s eyes as he held out a clawed hand for him to take. Craig slowly placed his palm in his, and the pad of his hand was surprisingly soft to the touch. It was warm, but not clammy, and Craig relaxed into his hold as he was tugged gently forward. “I can't believe I'm doing this,” he muttered, but Tweek gave him a reassuring smile that was much gentler without the deadly fangs poking out of his lips.

“I won't hurt you,” Tweek said, and somehow, for some idiotic reason, Craig believed him. For a moment he recalled his family, his friends, and his coworkers who would find his notebook discarded and the floors ripped to shreds without any idea of what had transpired, but something about the imp holding his hand made him less worried about the life he was likely abandoning for a long time.

Tweek led him forward and he gulped, staring down into the flames that screamed. “They won't burn you,” Tweek said, “they’re just warm.” Craig still feared them. After a moment to collect himself, he nodded, giving Tweek permission to lead him in.

“So, are you familiar with the story of Sodom and Gomorrah?” Tweek asked, grinning, and Craig choked on his spit before he was pulled forward and began a free-fall through a wormhole leading to God knew where.

When they resurfaced it was in a dark shack in a town Craig didn't recognize, and Tweek had the same grin in place as when they hopped through the portal the first time, and Craig had to wonder just how familiar he was with the story of Sodom and Gomorrah and how much it was going to relate to the hours of sex they would undoubtedly be having in the very near, very enticing future.

THE END

263 notes · View notes

the-wig-is-a-metaphor · 7 years

Link

The words left Mashiro’s mouth almost of their own accord.

“A – As long as it doesn’t interfere with PCP, I … I do want Shiratori-kun to be serialized,”

He wasn’t lying per se, he really did want Shiratori to succeed, but the words tasted like ashes on his tongue anyway.

He reassured Hattori, Shiratori and Takagi that it was alright, really, that it was in their best interests, but he barely even noticed what he was saying. Everything in his head was drowned out by the wounded screams of his ego. He did want Shiratori to do well, as he kept repeating when Takagi asked, and he did want the other half of Ashirogi Muto to gain even more experience as a writer. But there was a rather large part of him that just wanted to grab the hem of Shujin’s shirt and start begging him not to leave him while whimpering like the loser he was.

And yet another part, the deepest, ugliest part of him that he took great pains to squash down, had cried out, wrathful and irrational, against Shiratori. Nevermind that the boy was a better person than Mashiro would ever be. He didn’t deserve Mashiro’s resentment, unvoiced though it was.

But the mere idea of Takagi working with someone else, sharing the product of his brilliant mind with someone that was not him … it made him want to scream. But how could he justify such childish and pointless possessiveness? Agreeing was the right thing to do.

The following weeks, as it turned out, were torture. More often than not, Takagi and Shiratori could be found on the sofa, bent over a manuscript together, heads close, looking each other in the eye with the intensity of creation …

It made him want to use the G-pen in his hand to stab someone in the eye. Three guesses as to who.

“Mashiro-sensei,” Orihara said, mercifully distracting him from his contemplations. He looked visibly perplexed, “Aren’t the lines a bit more rough than usual?”

“They are?” he asked, mortified. It was one thing to obsess over Takagi’s collaboration, quite another to mess up because of it. He was a working professional – this was unacceptable.

“I’m going to fix them,” he assured Orihara, “Otherwise I won’t be able to live with myself,”

The assistant, relieved, replied, “Thank god. I’m sorry for the impertinence, but delicacy is your signature, so I thought I had to tell you…”

Delicacy, huh. There was nothing delicate about the anxious rage he felt. He sighed to himself, starting to erase a few lines. He was pathetic. Had he been as noble and pure as people believed… then he probably would have been genuinely happy for his best friend. But it was a pain he would never speak of. Both Shujin and the assistants were better off thinking him a good soul.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” Kaya asked him softly after all the assistants had gone home. She knew him better than almost anyone, and probably saw the signs of his agitation. Takagi and Shiratori were huddled in a corner, talking excitedly, sitting very very close together…

“Of course. I need him to grow as a writer if we want to make an excellent manga that can be turned into an anime – I need to work hard as an artist as well,”

Strictly speaking, it was all true. He was just omitting the fact that the mere thought of Shiratori’s eyes, full of worship and admiration, staring up at Takagi, made him want to throw up. Given, that was nothing compared to the emptiness he felt inside when he caught Shujin gazing down at Shiratori with a fond smile – those times he ended up on the verge of tears, wondering if he really was that weak. He liked Shiratori, and of course Takagi was his best friend, but just seeing them smile at each other was excruciating.

Was this what they called jealousy? His work partner teaming up with someone else felt like he was being cheated on.

It made him feel guilty thinking about that, especially when the actual wife was there in the room.

Next day, Moriya came to his desk with a look that was even more pinched than usual – and that was saying a lot considering the assistant behaved as if he had a stick up his ass at the best of times.

“This sketch is a bit rough, if I may,” he observed. “I can’t understand what this bundle of graphite here is supposed to be,”

It was true. Now that he looked at the panel in question, the pencil strokes were noticeably rough and jumbled. You could practically feel the rage. And god, was it embarrassing… his obsessive ponderings were affecting his work again.

Over by the couch, Takagi was smiling down at Shiratori, obviously complimenting something he’d come up with.

He forced a smile. “Ah, I’m sorry, I’ll fix it immediately. If you find other mistakes or incomprehensible parts don’t hesitate to – ”

And now he had thrown an arm around his shoulders with fmiliarity, as if it was a gesture he’d done before…

“Mashiro-sensei, the pencil! It’s broken! Blood!” Moriya shrieked, uncharacteristically agitated. Mashiro did have a reputation for being a rather calm and patient type. Looking down at his hand, he noticed that indeed, he’d unconsciously snapped the pencil in two, in the process scratching his hand badly enough that rivulets of bright red were flowing copiously on the page he’d been working on.

“Ah, shit!” he swore jumping up, trying to prevent damage that had already been done. There was nothing to it, he had to re-do the page now. The exclamation had garnered the attention of everyone in the room, and now they were all staring in horror at his hand.

Immediately, everyone jumped into action, Kaya hurrying to get the first aid kit they kept in the studio for just such an emergency, Orihara jumping up and down, panicked, Moriya trying to salvage the unsalvageable page, Shiratori asking loudly in a high-pitched voice if he should call an ambulance.

Takagi was the only one who stood motionless in the chaos. Seemingly catatonic, he was staring at Mashiro’s hand with his mouth still open since he’d been in the middle of talking, and his finger pointed at a corner of the name.

When their eyes met through the confusion, though, Takagi threw the manuscript away, careless for the fact that it landed on the floor – and oh, wasn’t that gratifying to an embarrassing degree – and elbowed his way through the panicking assistants to where Mashiro was standing.

Takagi had then grabbed his wrist with utter reverence, as if he wasn’t handling a body part but a priceless artifact, and run his wide eyes up and down the appendage. He poked and prodded at it delicately, and Mashiro could practically hear his brain analyse and calculate every detail of the wound until he was satified that it was only a minor injury, that no tendon or bone had been damaged.

Then he’d used the sleeve of the shirt he was wearing – the white shirt he was wearing – to wipe away every last drop of blood from Mashiro’s hand, showing absolutely no regard for the article of cloting he was soaking probably irreversibly.

“Shujin…” he breathed, “You don’t have to – ”

“Saiko, you idiot,” he said lowly, still cradling his hand like it was his most precious possession, “You need to take better care of your hands! What if it had been so bad that you couldn’t draw manga anymore? If you couldn’t draw, It would be meaningless for me to write anymore!”

There was an odd movement beneath his sternum. For a moment, he wondered if he was having a heart attack. “You can’t stop just because of me –”

“Then be more careful!” Takagi pled. “If you don’t want to have the end of my career on your conscience, then take better care of yourself!”

It made him feel even worse that Takagi was so obviously devoted to the team while Mashiro kept being childish about his collaboration, and he’d probably be crying by now if there hadn’t been five people staring at him.

“So cool…” Orihara was whispering to Shiratori, who nodded happily. Meanwhile, Kaya was back with the first aid kit, which Takagi had immediately commandeered – without letting go of his hand – and started using it expertly to take care of Mashiro’s wound with a face so soft and bare that it was choking him up again.

When he finished disifecting the cut, he wrapped a good bit of gauze around his palm, slowly and carefully. The splinter from the pencil had damaged the flesh between thumb and index finger, a place where no plaster would ever stay in place.

Everyone got back to work when it had been determined that the wound was taken care of, but the solemn silence persisted until the end of the day.

Takagi went back to his discussion with Shiratori.

Mashiro looked at his bandaged hand. It hurt.

Mashiro tried not to hum happily, feel vindicated, or rejoice in any way at the way Shujin was failing to produce a decent manuscript fot the second chapter of Rabuta&Peace. Tried being the operative word. He couldn’t help the mean, petty satisfaction coursing through him at the sight of Shujin’s lost frown.

The week was made even better by his solo work. Oh yes – he’d been able to write a good one-shot about Azuki, which improved his mood by about a hundred times (the two things he was in love with, manga and Azuki, mixed into one was bound to have this effect).

Then of course, they’d had The Fight, because Mashiro couldn’t just openly say, ‘I don’t want you working with anyone else, because of reasons I myself don’t understand! Please stop being so touchy feely with Shiratori’.

But Takagi himself was strangely angry.

“PCP won’t become an anime….even so, if I work on this and Rabuta becomes an anime, would that make you happy?!” Shujin had said, his eyes flashing with something he couldn’t interpret, “If we want an anime, then this situation is really strange! I’m telling you to be more selfish!”

Kaya had then intervened, but the situation had turned even weirder – Takagi had called Shiratori and gone to 'observe Peace in order to write him more dog-like’.

What the hell did that even mean? Was he trying to tell him he didn’t want to work with Mashiro anymore, that Shiratori was much preferable?

After Moriya and Orihara had gone home, Shiratori announced that he was going to stop being an assistant and focus on the serialization with Takagi. In the silence that followed his departure, Kaya sighed loudly.

By now she was like a sister to him – he never lied when he said that he loved her, and he genuinely liked to make her happy. This situation was hard for her too.

“Did you hear? He’s staying at his house to observe the dog! What if – what if he cheats on me with Shiratori’s sister? She was so hot…”

“There’s no way he’ll do that,” he answered monotonously, trying to remember what he’d been doing. Somehow without Takagi to keep him on track it was difficult to even breathe. God, how needy was he? Anyone would be preferable to someone like him.

“You really think that? Because she was really hot. I mean, I guess it’s genetic since Shiratori himself is so pretty,”

Mashiro’s arm made a weird twitching movement, suspiciously similar to a stabbing motion. “He’s pretty?”

“Yeah, didn’t you look at him? He ’s so – delicate, and his feature are so symmetrical and beautiful…” she sighed, delighted by the mere memory, “His hair is glossy, and he always smells good… Wait. Do you think Akito-san is having an affair with him?!”

Mashiro’s insides went cold, and his brain refused to compute. It couldn’t be…could it? Shiratori was rather pretty… but Takagi didn’t swing that way, did he? He couldn’t help but feel like the old wife abandoned for someone prettier and younger.

He probably said something reassuring, because Kaya – the actual wife – immediately calmed down.

“No, you’re right,” she nodded with the soft smile she’d been getting ever since she and Shujin had gotten married, “I trust him. And you do too, I know. I’m sure this situation will solve itself, somehow or another,”

It did.

Takagi got home in the middle of the night, when only Mashiro was left in the studio, and said, “I won’t write the story for Rabuta&Peace – that’s Shiratori’s work. That’s why I went to his house for a few days… now he’ll be able to write alone,”

Takagi was looking relieved to be done with the problem, but also strangely hesitant, as if expecting Mashiro to get angry and refuse his apologies. Mashiro wanted to laugh aloud.

“Thank god,” he murmured. “Thank god – I thought – I thought you were about to abandon me. I don’t think I’d be able to draw for anyone else,”

Takagi, having lost his unsure air after Mashiro had so obviously expressed his relief, was staring at him with his mouth slightly open, as if trying to calculate something.

Then he laughed a bit. “I guess this is the only way for us to function, then.”

“Don’t ever write for someone else again,” he whispered.

“I won’t,”

“Promise me,”

He reached at Mashiro’s side to caress his fingers – then lifted the bandaged appendage and rested his lips on it. “I promise,”

It was so intimate, so real, that Mashiro felt himself tremble. This – this was what they were. Nothing less than everything. He thought of Takagi like a third arm, or better yet, a second head – he was in love with Azuki and nothing was ever going to change that, but that had nothing to do with Shujin. It was something completely different; a part of himself that he couldn’t abandon without amputating his own existence.

He wondered if Kaya would hate him if she knew. He suspected she was aware at some level that his and Takagi’s relationship trascended the deep friendship they passed it for, the intense kinship many guessed or even the invested love some suspected.

It was something else, something outside of what could be properly expressed with the mouth, or perceived by the mind. It was something wispy and elusive, only caught in passing with the corner of the eye, murky and ever-present, shiny and painful like a broken mirror, lingering at the edge of their consciousness. Something that could be chased, caressed and even grazed, but never quite be gotten a hold of. Dry sand slipping through the fingers, the last tendrils of a dream after waking up.

“Saiko…”

The brushing of their lips felt much the same.

#fluff #fanfiction #slashfic #platonic #bakuman #romance

0 notes