#Sligs sure love to swear!

[queenofcats17]

The Ink Demonth 12

Today's theme is Copy.

I was initially going to go angsty with this, but I decided against it.

=========================================

Charlie Lawrence had a tendency to copy behaviors from their parents. Whether or not they were aware of this themselves was unclear, but the other employees at the studio had certainly noticed.

Wally had been the first to bring it up one day in the breakroom.

"You ever noticed how the kid always taps their cane in the same rhythm Sammy taps his pen when he's concentratin'?"

Many of the employees put down their sandwiches.

"What do you mean?" Tom asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Sammy's got this rhythm he taps with his pen when he's concentrating," Wally explained before demonstrating the rhythm. "And the kid taps out the same rhythm with their cane when they're thinking. I saw 'em doin' it when they were working on some essays for school."

"He's right," Norman agreed. "Sometimes when the two of them are in the same room they synch up. It's pretty fascinating to watch."

"Yeah, it's crazy, right?" Wally lit up at the confirmation that he'd been right. "Kid's like a tiny Sammy sometimes!"

They certainly tended to resemble Sammy in their dress style at least. As they'd gotten older they'd started dressing more like Sammy, with a lot of button-ups and pants with suspenders. Although, they were just as likely to show up in long skirts that looked borrowed from Susie's closet with floral tops that would have been right at home on the lovely Miss Campbell.

"They're like a smaller Susie sometimes too," Tom added. "When they're not paying attention, they start humming scales the same way Susie does."

"I've heard them do that too!" One of the band members gasped. "The first few times I thought it was Miss Susie, but when I went in to check it was Charlie!"

Susie had a very specific way of doing scales that was instantly recognizable to anyone who had heard her do it before. It wasn't surprising that Charlie might have picked it up, given they must have heard those scales dozens of times a day for nearly five years now.

"And when they get upset they say "fiddlesticks" like Miss Susie!" Another band member piped up.

"Or they swear like Sammy, depending on the company," Norman said.

Tom stifled a snort at the memory of when Charlie had nearly tripped over a pipe and let out the loudest "fuck" he had ever heard them utter. They had been absolutely mortified when they'd realized he had witnessed this and had begged him not to tell their parents. He'd promised he wouldn't, even though he had a feeling neither Susie nor Sammy would actually care about them swearing. He'd been too busy suppressing laughter to point this out, though.

"You should've heard the storm they cussed up when they failed at the shooting gallery," Wally said, leaning back against a wall.

"They really did sound just like Sammy," a warehouse worker giggled. "I felt so bad for laughing, but their rant sounded exactly like one Sammy would do!"

"They certainly are their parents' child," Norman laughed quietly.

"They certainly are." Tom couldn't help but smile to himself. For as frustrated as he could be with Sammy, it was sweet to see how he'd rubbed off on his child.

At the top of the stairs, listening at the door, Susie and Sammy were both tearing up a bit, both out of pride and fondness. They hadn't realized quite how much Charlie had picked up from them. Sure, they'd noticed Charlie copying some things they did and said in the beginning, but they hadn't noticed all the little habits Charlie had been picking up.

Charlie truly was their child, weren't they?

"Mom? Dad? You okay?" They were startled out of their thoughts by Charlie wheeling over in their chair. They were having a bad mobility day, so they were using the chair today.

"Oh, uh, yes! We're alright, sweetie!" Susie said quickly, straightening up and wiping away her tears.

"Yes, we're fine," Sammy agreed, awkwardly clearing his throat.

Charlie frowned slightly, wheeling closer. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"We're fine," Susie assured them, smiling softly as she leaned down to hug them. "We're just really happy you're in our lives."

Charlie blushed, hiding their face in Susie's shoulder. "Mom..." They whined in the signature tone of an embarrassed teenager who was enjoying the love but felt they needed to pretend they were too cool for it.

"We love you a lot, Charlie," Sammy said, putting his hand on Charlie's shoulder.

"You guys!" Charlie further buried their face in Susie's shoulder. "You're gonna make me cry!"

"For good reasons, I hope!" Susie said brightly.

Sammy couldn't help but laugh. "Let's go get you some food, alright?"

Charlie nodded, withdrawing from Susie with a sniffle. They'd grown so much since they'd come into Susie and Sammy's lives.

The two of them couldn't be more proud of their child.

[asameera]

Oddworld: Code 583 - Chapter 2: Brand new job

 “Hey! Wassup sucker? How was the trip to Nolybab?”

“Tell us about it! They say you can eat Gabbiar all day there!”

“Really? Oh, you lucky bastard!”

“Did you manage to steal some premium cigarettes?”

“Oh yeah! That's right, One-arm! You wouldn't have forget about your friendsies right?”

“Awwww man! I'm so jealous!”

“Hey! What did you do with the suit? We all contributed for you to have it! Not that we had a choice since it was an order from that stupid boss!”

“Hey that's right! You said you'd sell it so we could get the money back! We need it, that bastard just stiffed us out of bonuses!”

Overwhelmed with questions, 583 sighed inwardly. He would have rather forgotten about that damn journey to the Capital. Fortunately, he had already found an excuse for the suit to avoid blame from his colleagues. He had the whole trip back in the blimp to think about it.

“Ah, tell me about it, guys! That clown took this glittering stuff right away as soon as we left his appointment and just boasted about how it would fit in his private office! Too pretty for us, he said!”

A deafening din echoed through the audience as the hundred of Sligs assigned to the Zulag yelled insults in their distorted language.

“Oh that bastard!”

“Fuck him!”

“We want our Moolah!”

“Loser! Stupid boss!”

“I'm so angry! I'm gonna beat up the first slave I see!”

“YEAH!!!” they all roar in unison.

Relieved, 583 patted the barrel of his weapon affectionately, a simple rifle designed like so many others that fit perfectly in his mechanical hand. The touch reassured him, gave him a sense of power he didn't have to begin with. The idea of joining the masses to say hello to the Mudokons in the traditional way - a swift blow into the head with the butt of a gun - was appealing. It was always good to know that he and his race were not at the bottom of the heap, that there were creatures who feared them. Yes, very tempting.

But he had to admit that right now, he needed a cigarette more than anything.

As he walked the few meters that separated him from the locker room, he became aware once again of how lucky he was to live in the industrial age. Mechanics and robotics were a real blessing for them, even more so for him. The breathing masks that covered most of their faces protected their weak lungs from the black smokes of the factories. The red lenses covering their eye organs corrected their poor eyesight and gave them an intimidating appearance that scared the slaves.

Life, in its great injustice, had deprived them of legs, but thanks to the industrialists and their genius, they could walk and run in their iron pants. 583 even preferred to sleep with them, unlike most of his fellows, because he didn't like seeing the tiny khaki green tail that served no purpose, that only reminded him how pathetic he was in his natural state. Without this gift from the Cartel, they would all be crawling on the ground by sheer force of their arms, unable to rise higher than a slave's butt.

And for him, with only one arm left, prosthetics were even more essential. Whether it was to use a weapon, smoke, play cards or correct a Mudokon. And rather than feeling addicted, he was enjoying the new possibilities without question, just like everyone else.

He loved this era with wicked glee.

After his little walk, he opened his locker and grabbed his cigarette pack. With a sharp snap of the lighter, he lit his last poor-quality fag, leaned against the rusty iron and took a long, welcome puff. The smoke he blew with delight escaped from between his five appendages that constituted his snout.

“Hey sucker!”

Irritated, 583 turned his attention to a colleague who had just joined him.

“Yo. s'up, bro?" he still asked.

They had no way to tell each other apart, so he didn't recognize him. He was too far away to see his code. But he didn't care. It was a Slig, that was enough, no need to know more.

“Well I'm quite fine, yup! You on the other hand... well, I heard you've been demoted. Sorry 'bout that, bro !”

He didn't seem particularly sorry, on the contrary.

“Heh, no big deal” 583 groaned as he took another drag of nicotine. “To be fair I still don't know what my new job is.”

The other Slig stroked one of his snout appendages.

“Well, actually, I'm the one replacing you, bro. So, if you try to be logical, you are getting my job then, right?”

Interest rising with slight anxiety, 583 contorted himself so he could spot the Slig's number.

988.

He couldn't remember ever seeing a number that high since he started working at Gottlieb Industriz. The Sligs were divided into different sectors as soon as they arrived at the factory, so 583 was most often found with his colleagues in Zulag 5 - where Mr. Gottlieb had set up his main quarters - and thus he'd always been working around the numbers 500 to 599 (even though they weren't this many, his boss just loved making others believe he had a huge army under his orders). This meant that this colleague belonged to a different sector than his own, logically Zulag 9. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't remember what this place was, or even where it was located. How many sectors were there again? He had always thought it was no more than eight.

“Okay. So what's the job then?”

“Security” 988 snickered as if he'd just announced the punchline of a bad joke.

“No kidding! We all are security guards, what d'ya think that means, sucker?”

“Yeah, but that's not exactly the same here, loser! You'll have to keep an eye on a member of the factory and make sure nothing bad happens. Basically, you're clearly going to be bored shitless! 'Cause if you go AWOL on your patrols, if you let anything bad happen, you're in for a one-way trip to our Queen!”

583 blanched with fear.

“What?!”

No one, no one wanted to be involved with the Queen. They knew almost nothing about her, few had any information. But terror was deeply embedded in their instincts when she was mentioned, so deep that they all barely restrained themselves from calling their forgotten mother for help in a primal need. No one knew why. Only one thing was certain: those who had been summoned by Her Highness had never returned. And their numbers had been given to newbies.

988 snickered even more.

“Yeah! You'll be bored to death, but you won't even have the chance to have fun with the others, or take a nap, or pass your nerves on the workforce! This job is the worst shit I've ever experienced! Well, if I can give you a piece of advice: try not to lose it on your first day and, above all, don't ever use violence on that little shit, ever! They'll know that.”

If there was any blood left in 583's face, it had just been sucked out with the rest.

“Wait a minute, wait wait wait... the guy I have to protect in other words... it's a slave?”

“Yep.”

“I got to protect a slave?!”

“Yep!”

With that, 988 offered him a wave of his hand, beaming with mockery.

“Well, good luck sucker! And thanks for your job!”

He went away, leaving 583 behind. Humiliated, the one-armed Slig crushed his last cigarette in his hand, seething with rage, and gave a violent kick in the door of his former locker.

“I hate my life!” he shouted at the top of his voice.

“Hey! Don't break my locker!” 988's distant voice shouted back.

“Shaddap!”

ooOoo

988 hadn't told him everything.

First, he had 'forgotten' to offer assistance in moving his many belongings to his new quarters.

Then he had 'forgotten' to tell him exactly where his new job was located. 583 thought he was going to have to walk the entire factory, loaded as an Elum, asking every Slig he passed for directions. He often got the same answer, like 'Zulag 9? There's no Zulag 9! You must be drunk bro!' Well, it was odd, but actually to be expected, because there was no Zulag 9 located on the old map he'd received on his first day here. From the capture station to the storage warehouses, not forgetting the filtration and decontamination areas, he snarled angrily at the black smoke that regularly spewed from the pipes.

583 didn't really know how the plant worked, it wasn't his job and that was fine with him. But for Odd's sake, was it even possible that treating water and converting it into a commodity was so toxic? Of course pure environmental water was scarce, planet Oddworld had long been contaminated, creatures like him were only safe in industrial complexes or cities privatized by the Magog Cartel. Of course, foul wastes (about more than 60% of the liquid) were burned when they reached the decontamination process, turning them into polluted smoke. Of course. But still! That was just crazy!

More than once, 583 had heard about some Sligs from other factories, who were jealous not to be able to work at Gottlieb Industriz. Because they all thought that the air was purer here, so maybe they would have had a chance to take off their mask if only for a moment, when the Glukkon boss wasn't watching.

Sweet terrifying and almighty Magog Cartel! They couldn't be more wrong!

By now, he was passing by one of the factory exits, guarded by Sligs specialized in dressage. Barkings pierced the thick air, making 583 shake with jealousy. If only he could borrow a Slog too... he'd be less bored in his next job. He could toss some wrench for it to fetch, the blind dog would find it in no time with his enhanced sense of smell... but no, of course! The two-legged hairless red hound would probably harm his protégé while they played... urgh! Just thinking about it made 583 want to vomit! And vomiting inside his mask was not especially recommended.

Once again, he asked the Sligs for directions and they looked at each other before bursting out laughing. Surprised, the dogs became slightly agitated and barked, immediately appeased by their masters.

“Ah ah ah! So you're the new nanny? Poor you!”

“We'd almost feel sorry for you! Sucks to be you, man!”

“I think I'd rather join the slaves 'round here and do their crappy job! Ya should do that, that'd be better for ya!”

“Yeah ! I swear we won't beat you up too hard !”

Finally he had found a clue on his way to hell. But rather than feeling relieved, he grew incredibly angrier with those comments.

“Shut the fuck up guys!” 583 growled as he wasn't in the mood for crappy jokes. “Just tell me where I have to go!”

Couldn't they see he was about to collapse under the stuff he was carrying on his back? The beer bottles, the many tools to adjust his prosthesis, the spare parts just in case, his weapons...everything was sticking out his makeshift bundle! Couldn't they see he was fucking tired? Of course they were aware! Of course they didn't care!

By chance they provided him guidance rather quickly and 583 realized that he would never have found it without their help, because he wasn't even aware this part of the factory existed. In fact, the right path started right behind a door. The kind of door 583 would never have thought to open. It almost reeked of danger: made entirely of rusted iron, it was strewn with barely visible traces of blood, which months of cleaning had not been able to completely remove. And on the wall around it, several signs had been hung, all giving sinister warnings:

Restricted area

Do NOT enter

Authorized staff only

Trespassers will be terminated

Thank you

Get back to work!

No wonder he couldn't remember this place! After such warnings, everyone would do their best to forget that this path existed!

A bit worried, 583 tried to push the heavy door when suddenly he was flooded with red light from above. He didn't dare make a move, trying to tell himself that it was just a scanner (and certainly not a lethal one). A few moments later, the red beam went out and a loud 'clang' echoed through the space. The door was unlocked. Reassured and anxious at the same time, the Slig entered the long dark corridor.

After that, he had to take so many elevators, alternatively rising and descending, that in the end he couldn't tell if he was above or below the ground. Then, he had to disable a number of voice identification systems for Sligs that only let him through if he spoke in his inimitable native language. It was difficult to see how another creature could get there. And it was impossible to imagine it getting out.

Actually, the Slig was seriously wondering what he was needed here for.

When he finally reached his destination after the last automatic gate opened before him, 583 found himself confronted with the last, small, tiny little detail 988 had 'forgotten' to mention.

As he struggled to keep all of his equipment in his piece of cloth, 583 tripped over a steeled wire rope too sneaky to be honest. He toppled violently forward and his entire gear flew across the room before crashing on the floor with a deafening din. Unable to regain his balance, the Slig ran toward a wrought iron pillar and smashed snout first right against it with a painful swear word. Clinging hard to the base of the black structure, he was barely regaining his senses when he heard that voice for the first time.

“Oh sweet Odds! Are you okay?”

Doing his best to chase the parasites clouding his vision, 583 looked up at the figure leaning over him. He must have hit his head really too hard because, for the first time of his life, it was like he was seeing other colors than shades of red. What was that? Was it what they called light? Whiteness? He had learned to identify colors without ever having seen them, only with red tones, but never before had he experienced this. It was bright, almost pure.

“Heuuuuaaaah... an angel ? Urgh! My head!”

“Oh, poor thing...”

It was only at this moment he suddenly realized something wasn't right. The voice didn't match anything he'd heard before. It was too soft, too high. The feeling of purity was catapulted far away to give way to an irrational panic. And when he finally saw the Mudokon he had to protect, so close, he felt his heart drop horribly.

A . fucking . female.

Again.

He leapt to his feet to look down on her while she was still crouching.

“Urgh!” He spat, finally showing his despise. “I thought those like you were on the verge of extinction! Oh well! Yer just the second one I see in less than 36 hours! Looks like that martyr status is quite exagerated!”

The female's eyes widened. She looked more startled than hurt.

“What do you mean?”

She stood up in turn, slowly, her eyes not leaving him. Then, as if something had yielded in her – caution, undoubtedly – she gripped his shoulders hard and pierced him with her pleading gaze.

“You saw another one? Where? Where is she? Is she okay?”

Caught by surprise, 583 wriggled out as he jumped backward, his feral instincts loudly screaming to hit her. He raised his hand before realizing, ready to strike, but stopped just in time, survival overtaking. That was close! He was so used to beat or kill Mudokons for less than that, he had to be careful. He didn't want to meet his Queen – and possibly his death – yet!

“Don't touch me!” He screamed. “Waddya care anyway? It's not like you can meet her and have a fucking tea party!”

Her big imploring eyes filled with tears. Her long feathered hair, a bright yellow one striped with purple, was reaching all the way to the floor quite pitifully. Her skin wasn't exactly the same as the other slaves', he could tell by the slightly darker red tone. She was rather blue than the common green. Everything about her made her look sad.

“Please... I need to know.”

Irritated, 583 pretended to think about it.

“Yeah well no. You're not supposed to talk to me so I won't answ- unless... you know what, that's okay, I'll tell you. But only if you ask as nicely as you should. So go on. Kneel before me, I wanna see your forehead touch the floor. So? I'm waiting!”

If he couldn't strike her physically, he would find another way to give her a blow. The female didn't even protest. She obeyed immediately, turning herself into a doormat before him. 583 let out a vicious sneer. It was very satisfying after all, if a little too easy. And a little weird. Usually, when he played this game with his friends, the slaves complied with a blank, resigned look. Not her. She was waiting for something, for an answer. Her eyes were far from empty. The hope deep inside was almost gut wrenching.

It was so strange. What was the point for her to know?

“Please” she whispered in hope and dispair.

Under his mask, 583 gave her a cunning smirk.

“Veeeeeery good!” He mocked her in a patronizing tone. “See, it wasn't that hard. Fine then. I've met her not so long ago in Nolybab, in a crappy store. My imb... humble and generous boss wanted to meet her so she could read his glorious future or something like that.”

Even now, she was still carefully honoring the floor with her forehead.

“Was... was she the owner?

“Tsk ! 'Course not! Don't be stupid, yer not allowed to work for yourselves, even down there! It's a paint can looking Glukk' who's the boss. She's just his property, obviously!”

“So she's just a fortune teller?”

“Yeah, well I don't think it... er... yeah yeah exactly. What else?”

He had to watch his mouth. In this dark room, maybe there were some cameras he hadn't spotted yet. Perhaps it was how they knew if she'd be injured or not. Why though? Well, it didn't really matter, but if they could see and hear everything, if Gottlieb was aware of everything, 583 couldn't allow himself to insult or question his master. Even if he wanted to!

In front of him, the lower being straightened herself. The hope in her eyes was gone.

“I see. Thank you.”

He didn't understand why, but she looked even sadder than before.

“Er... yeah. So you see, no tea party with her or whatever.”

She nodded silently, spacing out.

“Mmm. I was just hoping she was like me. But if you speak the truth... that means she's sterile.”

The Slig tilted his head.

“Well yep. Wait a sec, you're not ?”

A bitter smile, a slight shake of the head. Every gesture was full of melancholy.

“No. The industrialists didn't manage to wipe us all. The land they poisoned spared more than they thought, even if many of them became sterile. As their disguised methods did not work completely as they wished, they attacked us head-on, demanding total submission. Those who refused... they...”

She was barely able not to cry.

“I could only escape this tragic fate by making a pact with them. I gave myself up entirely on the condition that they would not harm my future children, that they would find a place for them in the world they would build... or destroy, that's quite the same for me.”

Then, looking down, she shook her head.

“I was just hoping I wasn't the only one.”

583 absent mindedly scratched the top of his head, fighting a desire to sleep.. He didn't understand what she was blabbering about. Why would she complain when it was just the way things worked? What was the point of fighting against the industry that ruled Mudos? It was bringing in more than it was taking away, the sacrifices were paltry compared to the progress and pleasures made possible. They weren't destroying the world, they were just bringing it to the next level. He didn't like those who questionned such a simple thing.

No wonder why the Mudokons, fervent worshippers of nature, couldn't be better than slaves. All they had to do was just stop dreaming and accept that times had changed. But they couldn't even get that.

“Heh, no need to worry! They'll sure give 'em the place they deserve. They'll have security, a roof over their heads, a proper job and meals. All they need to live a healthy life!”

He had to restrain himself from laughing when she seemed a little relieved, unaware of his irony. This female must not have known the details of the living conditions of her kind. Had she ever left this room once?

“Hey! How long have you been here anyway?”

“A while I must say.”

Before continuing, 583 spotted a pile of cushions spread out on a bed and judged that he could comfortably settle in without risking anything.

“Me too, it's been a while I've been sent in this factory” he stated, lounging between the pillows. “But I've never heard anything 'bout you.”

The female moved slowly through the place and, noticing one of the scattered mechanical parts, she crouched to study it with care.

“I suppose my presence must not be disclosed too much” she ventured while testing the weight of the metal. “The Glukkon who brought me here – sir Gottlieb, right? – assured he would give my children a better future here than if I were sent to one of the brooders in Nolybab. He also said that our agreement should not be made public or I would be in trouble. That must be the reason.”

She stopped in front of each piece, observed them with the same intensity before piling them in her arms. While watching her out of the corner of his eye, the Slig nodded for himself.

“In short, he's going to gain a hell of a lot of free workforce clandestinely.”

He had spoken very quietly to himself, so she didn't hear anything.

“But I thought at least his subordonates would be aware” she added.

583 shrugged and stretched lazily.

“Pah. As long as he's paying us, we couldn't care less about what he's up to. We just do our job and that's all.”

“So your job is all about keeping an eye on me? Just like the one who was here before you?”

The Slig snorted as he remembered 988's smug attitude.

“Guess so” he groaned.

“This is pointless. I'm not planning to run away.”

Once again, he shrugged.

“Well, looks like my boss doesn't trust you. It doesn't matter if it's useless, you're missing the point. He pays, we obey. That's all.”

The female was about to answer but he didn't let her.

“So you're a fertile one you say? Is it coming soon?”

He was surprised when he heard her feeble incredulous laugh. Even that weak, the sound was able to change the atmosphere around her ever so subtly.

“Sweet Odds, of course not ! Look at me, I still haven't entered my metamorphosis state.”

“Er... what?”

“The process can take a long time to start. And once it's triggered I might have to wait for years until I finally reach the optimal condition to give life.”

“Years?!” He choked.

583 felt like banging his head against the wall so hard! He certainly wouldn't have to stick with her for all this time, would he?

“But... how... how is it this long?”

“That depends on the individuals. On species too. For instance I know that it took two years for Skillya to prepare her body envelop. On the other hand, it took only a few months after for her to begin giving birth.

“Wh-what? Who?”

Something bad was happening right now. He felt like burning, as if a giant vice-like grip was tightening around him. His skull began to thob painfully as something fuzzy was trying to take shape. Something very far crawling, swarming like a bug, slowly comin closer and closer with each passing second.

“Skillya. She's your...”

“STOP!”

A beer bottle exploded right above the female's head. She screamed and protected herself with her own arms. The mechanical parts fell on the grey iron sheets once again. 583 had jumped on his feet and thrown the first thing he'd found at her. Rage and terror had overwhelmed him without warning. In the thick silence that followed, the crawling thing returned in the shadows of his mind and gradually faded into nothingness. The Slig didn't know what it was, and he certainly didn't want to know.

He had to calm down. He tried to think about something else. His next cigarette. A brand new equipment. A huge bonus. So huge it would make his pals die with envy.

“I'm sorry...” she whispered.

Slig Barracks. The training. Yes, that was good times. Weapon training, the shooting contests. The jokes and the bets with his old friends. The classic targets, the moving targets. The living targets. The daily yelling from the Glukkon in charge, General Dripik, his completely dumb warnings ('All violators of the regulations will be shot, then court-martialed!'). The technology, the engineering and its possibilities. His new members, the joy he felt as he discovered how good it was to trample over the ground. His legs. The myriad of tents hastily pitched between forests of pipes, lost in the polluted green mist. Pollution was nothing, he was above the pollution, he couldn't care less. His mask. The feel of the trigger under his finger. The sadistic pleasure at the simple thought of shooting something. Like he had been taught so well. The feeling of superiority, finally. Being above someone else, being the one who could decide if someone would live or die. His arm.

Every Slig was sent there to grow, to become standart-compliant. Before that... he didn't remember what happened before that. Maybe it wasn't worth remembering.

A small rumble disturbed his concentration. 583 blinked and turned his red visor toward the female who had cowered in a corner, making herself as small as possible as if she wanted to melt into the wall. Her face was filled with anguish and her hands were trying to hide her flat belly.

The Slig sighed heavily.

“Stop this, I won't do anything to your tadpole stragglers.”

“It... it's not... it's nothing, really.”

She was trying to smile although she was on the verge of tears. A moment later, another rumbling sound was heard and she patted her stomach hastily, uttering an almost inaudible “hush”.

“Ah I see, yer just hungry. Eat then!”

“I... I'll be fine...”

Exasperated, 583 pulled on his legs and stomped toward her in a calculated shift. The sharp agressive move made her wince and whimper.

“Okay, what's your fucking problem then? Spit it out and stop fucking bothering me!”

“But I... there's no food here and... and I can't go out... I thought you... well, I thought you knew... y-you're the one who have to...”

The Slig slapped his forehead with his remaining palm. The word “nanny” just made terrible sense now.

“Oddammit...”

They were right. It would have been better if he'd just accepted to do the same crappy job the slaves did. At least he wouldn't have fallen so low as to be a slave's lackey, providing for her basic needs. It wasn't different from being at her service!

What a pain! Could this be even more humiliating?

“I hate my life!” he groaned between his teeth as he made his way to the exit. “Fine, I'll bring you back a nice big full menu, Your Shitty Highness! Fuck a duck!”

He stormed out in rage, ignoring the pathetic cries from the future Queen behind him.

ooOoo

Thank you for reading chapter 2 ! I’m still rather new here so I don’t really know how this works, but seeing people and amazing artists taking interest in what I put here is making my heart bounce with joy! ^w^

I really hope you enjoy this story!

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[bepp-ers]

look please just let me get this outta my system. i need happy little fics sometimes so if you'll indulge me, here's a little fic <3

soft barbatos bc helphehelp my brain is mush!!!

It was an honest mistake. You'd been invited to the Demon Lord's castle, alongside the brothers, the angels and Solomon, and up until just now, you were enjoying yourselves.

You were sat in one of the cushy lounges at a table with Solomon, just enjoying the company of another human, when Mammon decided to pull some dumbassery as always.

"-maybe I'll teach you at some point. It's always useful to know. Hey, what's Mammon doing?"

You twisted in your seat, and saw Mammon inspecting a fancy-looking teaset.

You jumped to your feet in alarm, scurrying over.

The other brothers gaze wasn't upon you, and you knew for sure that Solomon would just laugh if Mammon damaged it, so you took charge.

"Mammon, what are you doing?" He jumped and spun to face you.

"Ah- MC! Haha, lovely décor taste Diavolo has, huh? Be a dear and don't tell Lucifer about this, will ya?" He beamed, and you shook your head with a sigh.

"Fine, but hand over the teapot. It's one of Barbatos', I don't think he'd appreciate it ending up on Akuzon."

Mammon hurriedly set it back down on the table instead of handing it to you, something you really wished he'd have done.

"Mammon no--!" You yelped and tried to grab it, but it was too late.

Abject horror was all you felt as the pot clattered to the ground, only a hair away from your fingertips.

The room fell silent, and all eyes fell upon you.

"Uh- MC, how could you?? Barbatos will be so sad!" Mammon blurted out, and your eyes widened, before you gave him a shove.

"Excuse me, but you were the one who caused it to fall!! If you weren't such a scumbag, it would have never fell! Oh, Barbatos is gonna be so mad...!"

"Well- uh- you touched it last!"

Ignoring Mammon was all you could do, not trusting yourself to speak to him after that insult.

How dare he blame you?! Last time someone broke something belonging to Barbatos, the fury in his gaze was terrifying.

You felt responsible, for some reason, for being unable to save the beautiful teapot.

You dropped to the floor, fumbling for the pieces, and hissed as your hands were jabbed.

"Mammon, you scumbag!" "Yeah, at least help them clean up the mess." You heard the annoyed voices of Asmo and Beel, as well as a few others quip in, and you sniffed.

"I heard commotion, is everything alright?" You heard the voice of Diavolo, and two sets of footsteps, and you braced for the worst.

"A teapot broke. We're not entirely sure what happened." Lucifer stated, and you hurriedly tried to grab more of the broken pot through bleeding hands as you heard Barbatos step over.

"MC?" Your heart skipped a beat and you directed your gaze upwards.

'They were right, he really is terrifying...'

"What are you doing?"

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, I tried to stop Mammon from stealing it but it fell and I couldn't save it!! I'm so so sorry, I'll- I'll make it up to you, I understand if you're mad, I swear I'll--"

Your rambled were interrupted by the butler kneeling next to you and taking your hands in his, and finally you let go of the sharp pot you were clinging to.

"Come with me, please." Oh no. You were screwed.

-

You followed after the butler nervously, and found yourself sat in one of the kitchens.

You perched upon the side, Barbatos silently pulling a box down from a shelf. Sometimes you forgot how tall he was.

"Let me see your hands." You held them out to him, and he inspected them.

"This may hurt. Please brace yourself." He gently began disinfecting the wounds, and you sucked in air as it stung rather a lot.

He hummed quietly and began wrapping your hands in bandages, after successfully cleaning them.

"How do they feel?" You stretched your hands, feeling no more than a light sting.

"Better, thank you..." You felt extremely guilty.

"About the teapot, I-" "It wasn't your fault, MC. Please don't fret- I'm not annoyed in the slightest." He offered you a smile, and you felt a bit more at ease.

"Are you sure? It looked valuable..."

"My dear, I believe you forget my timekeeping abilities. I foresaw the damage a while ago, but seeing as I held disdain for that particular set, I didn't mind. Now quit fussing, it's not a good look for you."

You grinned. He had quite a way with words, despite being so formal.

"Well, as long as you're sure you don't mind. And you want nothing in return?"

He grinned, the most emotive you'd seen him before, and suddenly you were astutely aware of how close he was.

"Now that you mention it, there is something on my mind." Your face tinted crimson as he closed the gap between the two of you, in a swift but chaste kiss.

"Now," He began, finding your expression extraordinarily intriguing.

"I suggest you make your way back to the others. I have matters to attend to with Mammon, though I suppose I should thank him for the opportunity. I do hope I'll be seeing you again soon, MC."

You mumbled something of a thank you, and scurried out of the kitchen, positively pink at the thought of the demonic butler.

The chances of being able to look him in the eye after that encounter were slim, it seemed.

Not that you were complaining.

[kaashiboo]

hiii i hope u have a nice day! how would akaashi and kita react if their s/o cries because of how much they love them?? idek if that makes sense nsnsm but i hope u understand ! byeee stay safe

haikyuu boys reacting to you crying because of how much you love them

┇ akaashi and kita

→fluff

gn!reader

【warnings: none】

✎ a/n: AAAH this is the first ever request that I've gotten so i was really excited when i saw the notification heh:') i really appreciate the request! i hope i did well on this oneee. stay safe to you too! <3 and thank you for your patience because i know this took a long time hehe.

akaashi

you were patiently waiting in the library for akaashi as he offered to study with you for the upcoming exams but since he still has practice, you decided to just wait for him.

you had a mental debate with yourself whether you should start studying already or just use your phone— and you obviously choose the latter.

you stared at your wallpaper, it was a candid picture of akaashi crouched down with bread crumbs on his palms as an attempt to feed the birds. it was honestly such a lovely experience.

a wide grin never left your face. a sigh of contentment escaped from your lips. you propped your elbow on the table, resting your chin on your palm as you continually scroll through your album named 'memories with keiji<3'.

you stop scrolling for a while, starting to realize how lucky you are to have akaashi in your life. memories of you two together flooded your mind and you start tearing up.

-

"love, try feeding the birds. just try not to... look scary." he teased, you let out a loud and offended 'huh?', startling some of the birds and he gave you an i-told-you look.

"y/n, sweetie. i bought snacks for you since i heard from the school's nurse that you were having some bad cramps."

"sweetheart, it's okay to cry. i'm here now, you don't need to hide your feelings from me because i would always be more than willing to help you, okay?"

"you did great, my love! i am so proud of you. i love you."

-

you hadn't noticed that akaashi was secretly watching you from afar until you heard a soft thump on the floor and you quickly looked up at him.

"kei—" you were about to greet him but he immediately embraced you.

your eyes widened in surprise, rubbing his back soothingly. "is there something wrong?" you whispered softly, your other hand making its way to play with his hair.

"shouldn't i be the one asking you that?" he pulled away, cupping your cheeks in his hands and wiped your tears with his thumb and you finally noticed that you were crying the whole time.

"oh no," you laughed a bit. "i'm alright, keiji. i was just overwhelmed." you tried explaining but he was still reluctant at your response and so you picked up your phone that you placed on the table as soon as you caught sight of his presence.

"see? i was just looking at our pictures. i swear, i didn't mean and i never even noticed that i started crying." he finally relaxed. sensing that you were still in a good mood.

"but why were you even crying in the first place?" you slowly turned your head to the side where you can't see him. too embarrassed to answer but he held your chin between his thumb and index finger, slowly guiding your head to face him.

you knew you could have looked away but you couldn't help but to just stare back. "i love you." you blurted, causing him to smile.

"i love you too, sweetheart. but i don't think that answers my question."

"well that was my answer." you saw his smile turn into a small smirk, "i don't think i understand what you're trying to imply, my love. could you please explain it more?" you playfully pinched his cheeks before planting a kiss on the same spot.

"it's okay to cry, love." he muttered.

kita

"how has he been?" granny yumie looked at you adoringly as you prepared a bento box to bring to kita as he was still in practice.

"he's been treating me better than anyone could, granny." you answered honestly.

"that's good to hear, y/n-chan, but i think i would love to hear you talk about him more. come on, it's just the two of us." she insisted. you chuckled before wrapping up the food you had prepared before sitting down on the floor across her. ready to give in and do what she requested.

"shinsuke is a very lovely boy, granny. truth to be told, i was very intimidated when i first bumped into him and the way he looked at me weirdly because i was the one who apologized when he spilled his drink on me,” you laughed as you thought about it.

“but he was also kind enough to lend me his jacket before he rushed off to practice and i was thankful for it because i at least had the reason to find him and return him his jacket.” you glanced at granny yumie who was intently listening to you talk.

“and the day after that, i returned his jacket but he insisted that i should keep it,” you paused again, smiling a bit before pointing at the jacket you were currently wearing. “it’s this one.” you said before continuing with your story.

“and because we were in the same year, he would always give me his notes even though i don’t really need them— well i kinda do need them since i don’t like writing. not only that but he offered to always walk me home.”

“granny, i wonder how he’s able to pull off that kind of thing?” you bit your lips, trying to come up with an answer.

“what thing, dear?”

“he may not be the most affectionate person in the world but i still feel so loved whenever i’m with him. he’s not like me who always craved their partner’s touch but even so, he still manages to show that he cares and that he loves me very much and i am beyond grateful to have him. he’s so patient and understanding with me.” you pouted in a playful manner, trying to hide the fact that you were close to crying.

you’ve never had problems with talking about your relationship with kita to other people but this conversation with granny yumie is different since you were used to talk about the two of you casually but this time, nothing but sincerity lingered in the air and you couldn’t help but swallow the lump in your throat that was starting to build up.

“ah, i think they would have their break in a few minutes soon, granny. i should probably go ahead now.” you excused yourself.

“be careful on the way, y/n-chan.” she reminded you.

“will do, granny! thank you for helping me prepare shin’s food.” you bowed and left hurriedly.

once you are out of the house, you let the tears stream endlessly, clutching tightly onto the fabric wrapped around the bento box to not accidentally let it go.

you were walking at a fast pace not until someone held your shoulders, forcing you to look up.

“y/n?”

“shin!” you yelped in surprise, wiping your tears with the back of your hand before smiling at him.

“wait why are you here? aren’t you supposed to be in practice?” you narrowed your eyes. realizing that he was wearing a new t-shirt.

“i could be asking you the same question, darling. but to answer yours, we ended practice early.” he let go of you before scanning your face completely and you felt like melting under his gaze, “do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

“it’s a ridiculous reason, shin. it’s fine.” you insisted before holding your hand out for him to get the food that you made for him and he gladly accepted it.

“nothing is ridiculous if it’s you, y/n. especially if it’s your feelings. you know that you can talk to me about anything, right?” he grabbed your wrist gently, pulling you to the bench near where you two were standing and pushed you down to sit.

-

shin: y/n, good morning. please do not forget to eat breakfast.

shin: hello. i heard from your classmates yesterday that you would have a quiz later. do not forget to review. if you need my help, just call me.

shin: the nurse told me you were sick. don’t wait for me anymore, we decided to not have practice today. i’ll pick you up from your classroom then walk you home and take care of you.

shin: y/n, love? suna just sent me a screenshot of the songs you’re currently listening to. are you sure you feel fine?

-

“love. i know that you are great friends with the twins but is it okay if you tell them to not always smother you especially when you are with me?” kita said. trying to keep his tone remain usual but the hint of bitterness was still there.

you felt him squeeze your hand when you chuckled at him. “of course, shin. i’ll make sure to tell them that. i’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable.” you reassured.

-

you’ve heard kita sigh for the fifth time ever since he arrived at your house.

“shin? is something bothering you?”

“y/n. i know i may not be the most affectionate person but please do not hesitate to initiate affection for me.” you couldn’t help but smile at him. completely placing your phone down on your bed.

“of course, baby. do you have a particular reason that made you say that to me?” you asked, worried.

“you haven’t hugged me ever since i got here.” you almost could not hear him but his straightforward attitude never failed to amuse you and so you pulled him into a tight hug immediately.

-

“love?” you heard him utter once again and you finally snapped out of your trance. tears threatening to escape once again.

“please tell me what’s wrong.” he looked at you worriedly.

“i love you.” you smiled.

“i know. i love you more, y/n. but i am still concerned about you.”

“nothing’s wrong, shin. don’t worry. i was just thinking of how lucky i am to have you.” he chuckled at your statement.

“is that why you’re crying?” you nodded as a response, laughing awkwardly.

“well, i think that is an odd reason, y/n. however, i know that crying is not only caused when a person is sad. it can be caused my numerous reasons but i think i would rather see you smile.” he gently wiped the tears away with his handkerchief that you two bought together at a mall when you had your first date.

“you still have those?” you pointed at the piece of fabric and he nodded.

“of course i do. i keep everything that has anything to do with you— oh no, love, please stop crying.” he slightly panics.

[lovewriting-5]

Until Dawn

Chapter 1

Chapter 2, part 1

Chapter 2, part 2

We walk down the stairs and Ashley and Chris were already in the living room by the fire. “Well...well, what took the two of you so long?” Chris asks. I had a hard time keeping a straight face. It felt good to be close with Josh again after a few days.

The four of us were talking about how cold it was in the lodge. The heat had to get turned on. I tell Josh “The fire is nice but it would be great if the heat was on.” I wrap my arms around myself for warmth. He wraps his arms around me to help. He says “Come on...”

Chris, Ashley and I were betting how long it would take him to get it started. Chris asks “How long do you think it’ll take him?” To be nice, I bet “An hour.” Ashley says “My money’s on blankets for everyone!” Chris tells him “You can do it, man. We believe in you.” She says “Yeah! Totally! Woo!” I do a chant “Let’s go Jo-osh, let’s go!” His arms tighten around me. I laugh.

There was the sound of footsteps moving around upstairs. Josh removes his arms. He tells all three of us, “Alright, peanut gallery, you know what? I got an idea.” I ask, suspiciously “What?” He continues “Okay well I am pretty sure that somewhere in this crazy place we used to have...a spirit board.” Ashley asks “A what?”

Sarcastically, Chris asks “Wow you have a ‘spirit board’?” I ask him, concerned “Wait are you saying...we should have a séance?” Still joking, Chris says “Those things are a joke, man. They don’t do shit.” Josh says with a little difficulty, “No way bro. We used to do it all the time. Me and...well...” This isn’t a good idea.

The footsteps reach the bottom. I turn and say “Hey Sam.” As she gets closer to us, she says “Hi. Hey Josh. No hot water’s kinda major oversight doncha think?” He tells her “Yeah yeah, just gotta fire up the boiler. It’s in the basement.” Turns back to Chris and Ashley, “You guys see if you can find the spirit board.”

Ashley gets up from the ottoman, “Chris, let’s go find it! It’ll be like a scavenger hunt!” Hesitantly, he says “Ummm...okay...guess so.” Josh says “Rad. You’re not gonna regret it.” The two of them leave.

Josh asks me “You up for a ride-along?” Nervously, I say “Sure.” I turn to Sam, “Sam, do you want to help us?” She looks behind me, “Uhhh...no, you two go for it. I’ll wait up here.”

We make our way to the direction of the basement. He pauses and says, mischievously “Hey. You notice how I gave Chris and Ashley a mission together? Yeah I was thinking they could use some ‘alone time.’” Supportively, I say “They are very sweet together. I wish they’d just freakin’ get on with it already.” A little too enthused, he says “I swear they just need like...something to bond over, y’know? Some sort of traumatic event to send them into each other’s arms.”

He opens a drawer and takes out a flashlight. I open the door that leads to the basement. Standing by the doorframe, it takes Josh a few minutes. He says “You know...” I ask “Yes?” He begins “I just wanted to say...” I ask “What?” Thoughtfully, he tells me “It really means a lot to me that everyone came back this year and you know, that you came.”

I smile, “Josh. I care about you and glad to hear you are doing a little better. We’re here for you. Really. Whatever you need. Whenever. We’re all gonna make it through this...together.” I give him a kiss on the cheek. He says with a sort of devilish smile, “Um...I want us to have a good time, you know...”

We continue down the stairs of the basement. Knowing that the stairs are crumbling a little, he tells me “Watch your step.” Jokingly, I tell him “I think I can handle a little old set of stairs.” Sarcastically, he says “Uh-huh.”

I follow him to the boiler cabinet. As he opens the cabinet, he says “Sorry to drag you down into the bowels.” I say “It’s fine. Like I said the fire is nice but some heat and hot water would be nice.” He says “I mean I wouldn’t want you coming down here on your own, you know?” Jokingly, I say “Such a gentleman.”

Looking around at the dark basement with a ton of boxes and the only other light is coming from the small windows. I tell him “Well it’s definitely creepy down here.” He says “Yep. Not a place to be on your own.”

He hands me the flashlight, “Here, can you...can you hold this steady?” There was a noise in the distance. I turn around to see where it came from. Now I’m starting to get a little freaked out.

I tighten my grip on the flashlight. I ask a little freaked out, “Josh...what was that?” Not believing, he says “What was what? Just shine it here so I can see what I’m doing.” I say “Fine.”

There was another sound, I turned to see where it came from. Josh says from the boiler cabinet, “(Y/N)...Can you just keep the light still so I can see, okay?”

This time I finally held the flashlight steady. He got everything hooked up. He stands up and smiles, “Nice one. Okay first things first: we gotta increase the water pressure before we get the boiler fired up.” I look at the machine, “Sounds kinda complicated.” Reassuringly, he tells me “No, it’s actually pretty simple.”

I turn the knob, waited and saw the light turn on. I pushed the button but apparently it didn’t work, “Damn!” He says “It’s okay, just try again.” I tried again but missed it, “Ugh!” He tells me “Relax...It’s not that hard. Just press the button when the light comes on.” I take a deep breath and let it out. I try again and got it.

The boiler fired up. Proud of myself, I say “Whoa!!” Josh was pretty proud too, “That’s more like it. Alright! Five, girl!” He holds up his hand and I slap it. I excitedly, say “Yeah!” He closes the boiler cabinet and locks it.

Curiosity hits me, I ask “Josh...so upstairs when I asked Sam if she would like to help...Did you tell her not to join us?” He gets a shocked expression, “What? No...why would I do that?” I tell him as I step a little closer, “Are you sure? Because I swear Sam looked behind me to see if she should.” Looking a little guilty, he begins “Well....I might -“

In the dark, damp basement there was another noise. I turn in the direction that I think it’s coming from, “What the hell is that?” I back a little closer to him. He says, jokingly “Could be a lot of things...and none of them nice...” as he wiggles his finger on my arm. I push it away, “Hey, quit it.”

He says with a chuckle “I’m just...just ‘Joshing’ ya.” “Har har.” I tell him. Trying to point it out, he says “You were really freaked out.”

Shaking my head in protest, “I was not scared.” With a sly grin, he says as he looks me up and down “No, no, you just jumped because you wanted to squeeze in some aerobics?” I roll my eyes.

After a few years of hanging out with the Washington family, I have picked up on some acting skills. I put on a terrified look and look behind him. I look from him to behind, “Oh my God - - don’t move - -“ Sounding a little concerned, he asks “What?” Sounding more terrified, I tell him “There’s something behind you.” Trying to sound brave, he says “Yeah right.”

Really wanting to get him, I continue “Josh...Seriously. There’s something back there...” He turns and looks over his shoulder. I tell him, very satisfied “Ha...Got - -ch - -ah.” Putting an arm around my waist as he pulls me closer, “Alright. Alright. Your point.” I wrap my arms around the back of his neck, “Thirty - - Love.” Josh raises an eyebrow, “What? No...Where’d you get the first point?” I ask “It doesn’t start at thirty?” He says “No. Fifteen.” I say, confidently “Oh. Well, I’m more of a ping-pong gal.” As I get the last sentence out, he kisses me.

The two of us probably would have stayed down there for awhile, if the sound didn’t happen again. We pull away. Really? I was just starting to get used to being down here.

Catching my breath, I ask “Okay, so you hear that too, right?” I look at Josh, “Josh?” He removes his arm and moves in front of me. He asks “What?” Starting to get freaked out again, “The rhythm’s like, weirdly regular...” We walk a little closer to the sound. He says “Not...No...Nothing ‘regular’ about it...”

As we walk closer to it, I place my right hand on his arm and my left hand in his right. His hand grip tightens. I ask “Maybe we should, you know, check it out?” He asks “Why?” Not really knowing what to say, I tell him “I dunno, what if it’s like, a pipe that’s about to burst or some problem with the furnace?” He tells me “Unlikely.” I say to convince him, “If it were me I wouldn’t want this place to burn down on my watch.” He pauses and then says “...Yeah. Right.”

As we venture farther into the basement, all of a sudden, a figure in a brown robe and hockey mask jumps out. Josh and I scream and run for our lives. Josh in front, says “Whoa - (Y/N) - whoa.” Along the path, I grab an obstacle and pull it down. The figure is blocked. Josh and I make it up the stairs and I try to open the door. I am struggling to get it open. The figure is getting closer.

I am throwing all my weight against this door, “Oh come ON now why are these doors locked?!” In a panic, Josh says “To...To keep out strangers!!”

I feel Josh get closer. The figure stops right in front of us, “Hey...” Confused, I ask “...What?” The figure says, again “Heeyyyyyy...” Still confused, I ask “...WHAT THE HELL?!”

The figure removes the mask and hood. He revealed himself as Chris. Thinking it is funny, Chris says “Boom! You just got monked!” I can feel anger starting to rise, “WHAT!!!” Josh says, proudly “Nice. Nice one. That was good.” First to Josh and then to Chris, I ask “No it was not. Why w...Why would you do that?”

Holding his arm out, Chris says “There’s all this cool old movie crap down here. What, was I...was I not supposed to take advantage of the opportunity?” To Chris, I ask “Are you...are you serious?” I turn to Josh and push him a little, “Were you in on this, you putz?” As he gives Chris a high-five, he says “Nope. But I wish I was! That was too good!” I tell him “Don’t high-five that.”

The three of us get back to the main part of the lodge. After calming down a little, I tell them “I’m ready to admit that your dumb little prank may have had a slight whiff of humor to it.” Chris says “Jokemaster!” I tell him to make myself clear, “I said nothing about jokes. I said your prank, which was dumb -“ Chris begins ascending the stairs. Josh walks over to the table to set the flashlight down. I wait at the bottom of the steps with my arms crossed for him.

Josh jokingly, says “Holy crap you were scared. Admit it.” Sternly, I tell him “I was not!” I begin ascending the stairs. Not giving up, he says “Come on, you totally pissed yourself!” Done with the joke, I say “Josh!”

We joined the others upstairs. I go and stand near the fireplace. Josh places his arms around my waist and places a kiss on my right temple. I whisper, trying to hide a smile “I hate you.” Knowing I can’t stay mad at him long, he whispers “No, you don’t.” I lay my cheek on his arm. Ashley walks over to Chris and notices his outfit of choice. She asks in disgust, “What...in god’s name...are you wearing?” Playing along, Chris tells her “I found my true calling.” He makes the sign of the cross in the air. Putting her hands in a praying motion, she tells him, sarcastically “Please tell me you’re going to take a vow of silence.”

Chris moves his mouth without sound. To make him quit the charade, I ask “Okay okay...Did you at least find the thingy?” Chris looks at me and pulls a board out of his robe, “Boi - oi - oi - oing! Here’s our one way ticket to the spirit realm!” Ashley says “Hmmm.”

Josh tells Sam “Sam, we got the boiler up and running. So the hot water should be working.” Grateful, she says “Thank you. I see a hot bath in my crystal ball. So have fun!”

[ichorai]

cellmates ; five ; j.wy

pairing ; jung wooyoung x reader

summary ; stuck in jail after stealing a necklace off the princess, what happens when your new cellmate with an impossible escape plan comes along?

themes ; fantasy, angst, slowburn, action, adventure, medieval, pirates, magic, elves, mermaids, royalty

words ; 8.9k

warnings / includes ; character death, blood and grime and injury and everything in between, reader being tied/chained up :(, vulgar cursing, crying, rowdy pirates, "keep the love interests away from each other" trope <3, ✨pure confusion✨, me torturing my characters once again yikes, ateez cameos !!, cellmates to (future) lovers !!

a/n ; uhm. hi. first off, i apologize for taking so long with this series KWHJKSDFK and second, i am also so sorry for what you're about to read o.0 this one's a real angsty part folks :') i swear i swear it gets better don't be too upset :(( i love writing this series so much (it's prob my favorite original story) and im so excited to hear yalls thoughts :D

cellmates masterlist.

a map of this universe is included at the end of the chapter !!!

Cerulean beaches never quite looked like real beaches to you. The sand was as white as snow, the gentle lapping waters so bright they looked to be molten sapphires. It was all far too perfect to be naturally authentic. You were pleased to find that your boots left shallow imprints in the sand, disrupting the once pristine terrain.

Night was creeping upon you once again, and you were in desperate need for a good sleep. You were lucky that Yunho didn’t live very far off, also pleasantly surprised to find that you could even remember the way back (though admittedly, it took a considerable amount of backtracking).

The front of his little cottage was just as you remembered, albeit dark and somewhat dingy. None of the candles or oil lamps were lit and the curtains were drawn. The large expanse of his garden seemed somewhat unmaintained, weeds starting to sprout from between the wilting, once bright flowers.

You knocked against the door thrice, clasping your hands behind your back while you waited. How would Yunho react upon seeing you? What if he blamed you for losing Wooyoung? What if he didn’t believe you? What would you say then? Much like the first time you came to Yunho’s little cottage, tumultuous questions and irrational thoughts churned about in your mind.

It took a long while for you to realize that nobody had answered the door yet. You blinked, mystified, and raised a fist to rap on the wood again. You grew impatient rather quickly, knocks progressively becoming more frequent and hurried.

“Yunho?” You called out after about five minutes of waiting. By then, it was obvious that the man was either not home or avoiding you on purpose. And considering how friendly and sweet the pink-headed giant was the last you saw, you doubted it was the latter. “I’m coming in!”

The door opened in a fluid motion, knocking against the wall behind as you swung it open. You stepped inside tentatively, peering around with widened eyes. It was completely dark inside. So much so that it took you a few minutes for your eyes to properly adjust to the ill-lit hallway. Just as you had remembered, the small living room was to your left and quaint kitchen to your right, the winding staircase situated in the corner. The familiar scent of maple wood was still lingering in the air, although faint and almost imperceptible.

You shut the door behind you and toed off your boots, shuffling into the kitchen.

“Yunho?” Your voice eerily echoed in the empty cottage.

And so you made your way up the staircase, peering into the bedrooms. A heavy feeling gripped at your chest when you glanced into Yunho’s bedroom. That was where you and Wooyoung kissed… you could still remember the feeling of his arms wrapped around your waist, his warm breath on the back of your neck. You wondered what would’ve happened if you hadn’t stopped him. How far would the two of you have gone?

Shaking all thoughts of the past away, you bounded back down the stairs. There was no sign of Yunho at all. Just where could he be? You tried your best comforting yourself; perhaps he had gone out for a walk. Surely he’d be back soon.

Much to your dismay and gradually rising concern, Yunho didn’t show up at all. Not when the sun started to rise again, not when you passed out in sheer exhaustion on a kitchen stool (you couldn’t bring it in yourself to go back up to the bedrooms), and not even when you stirred back into consciousness, the late morning sun glaring at you harshly through the slivers between the curtains.

Your bones cracked and popped as you stood up and arched your back, rolling your stiff neck from side to side. From the pirate ship, you had brought little else than a knapsack full of gold you found in one of the cellars, food that could last you a couple days, water skins, and two sheathed daggers. Everything else on the ship was practically worthless, or too heavy to carry.

With a heavy sigh, you splashed water onto your face using the kitchen tap and patted your sleep-ruffled hair down. The skin around your wrists were still raw and stung when you rinsed away the crusted blood. You wished San had given you that coconut extract lotion; you couldn’t seem to find it anywhere on the ship. Guilt-stricken, you turned off the water and slung the knapsack over your good shoulder.

If Yunho was gone, then where else could you go? It seemed wrong to stay in his home without his knowing.

Air. You just needed air to clear up your mind.

Stepping outside felt like a mistake. Under the bright sunlight, you felt your head throb dully in agitation. The garden looked even more lamentable now than last night, the flowers drooping so far that their browning petals grazed the dry soil beneath. The air felt thick and heavy, and you huffed out several breaths to relax your tense muscles, shutting your eyes in the process.

“What are you doing?”

The voice was so sudden and unexpected, you couldn’t help but shriek, flinching back against the cottage door. You were met with an old man standing just shy of Yunho’s unkempt garden, his gaze confused and somewhat judgemental.

“W-What?” You muttered once regaining your scattered thoughts.

“I said,” the older man shot you an exasperated look. “What are you doing, waiting by that house? Nobody lives there.”

It felt as if cold water was dripping down your spine, and you crossed your arms over your chest, shivering slightly. “But… that can’t be true… Yunho lives here. He’s a, uhm, a baker, I think. This is his house.”

The old man regarded you like someone would look at a madman. There was something in his tone that told you that he wasn’t taking you seriously. “I’m sorry to say this, but nobody’s lived there for years and years. I’ve never heard of a baker named Yunho in this area.”

“No… but I was just here a few days ago with him…” Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip in thought. What was going on? Where could he have gone? What could’ve happened to him?

In your peripheral vision, you saw the old man hobble away, but not without stopping to glance back at you with narrowed eyes every few steps.

And then you remembered with a sharp intake of breath. You and Wooyoung were thrown into jail to fade away into nothing but legends… and now nobody believes you really exist… Wooyoung was thought to be dead by everybody… could the same be happening to his innocent, pink-haired friend? A dark, tar-slicked hand reached out into the confines of your chest and curled its slimy fingers around your palpitating heart in a steely grip.

They took Yunho. The realization had you slapping a palm to your mouth, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. It all made sense; the untended garden, the old man saying nobody’s lived here for years… it sickened you to think that the only reason you could remember him was because you weren’t in Cerulea when he ‘disappeared’.

“Oh, no. Oh, god, no!” You leaned against the door, overwhelmed. If they took Yunho, would they have Wooyoung, too? Did Wooyoung even come back to Cerulea? If he wasn’t here, then he’d be the only other person who remembered Yunho.

Just what the hell are you going to do now?

It felt wrong to stay in Yunho’s empty little cottage with your newfound realization. The pirate ship was the second best option, but even that was much too far for your trembling legs; you doubted you’d even make it to the beaches, much less get in a small boat to row back to the anchored ship. Besides, the memory of San jumping off the side was one that you weren’t very keen on reliving.

And so, that was how you found yourself in front of an inn, only two cobbled roads away. The heavy door whined as you gently nudged it open, shuffling inside. Your heart was thumping against your ribcage so loudly that you could barely hear anything else. For once, you were glad that your name had faded into legend. To them, you were probably just another nobody.

The inn held the thick aroma of cheap alcohol and spritzer perfume. You glanced around curiously, noting the few people poking away at their breakfast and chugging down their frothy ales.

What looked to be the owner of the establishment was standing behind a counter, looking bored. He caught your eyes, and despite your head telling you to turn around and walk back to the pirate ship, you found yourself shuffling forward.

“What can I do for you?” The innkeeper asked, eyeing your haggard appearance.

Feebly, you pulled out a handful of gold coins and dropped them onto the wood of the counter. “Can I just get a room for the night? Will this be enough?”

The man across from you stared at you incredulously, his gaze flickering from the gold to your wide eyes. “Where’d you get all this money from? You didn’t steal it, did you?”

You blinked twice, shrugging your shoulders slightly. “They’re my savings.”

He looked upon you dubiously, but accepted the coins nonetheless. “You can have breakfast if you’d like. It comes with the room.”

Shaking your head slightly, you replied, “thanks, but I just want to get settled in for now. I’ll come down for luncheon.”

“Suit yourself,” the innkeeper quipped, sliding over a rusty key with eight engraved into its dull metal. “Head upstairs, turn left.”

And so that’s where you went, the wooden stairs creaking under your weight. You slotted the key into the lock of a door that had a large metal eight clearly displayed, and heaved the door open. By now, it felt as if your muscles were on fire. Everything seemed to be aching.

The first thing your eyes laid upon was a small bed, a thin, lavender-hued fleece wool blanket draped over the lumpy mattress and a single measly pillow propped up at its head. It took everything within you not to dive into the warmth of the woolen layer, but you managed to bide your time, even if it was just a couple minutes.

You toed off your boots, the soles of your feet practically numb. The pack that hung on your shoulder was next to come off, sliding down your arm and onto the bedside table. There was an unlit candle by the windowsill, but still more than enough light streaming in, seeing how it was still quite early in the morning.

The air smelled of breakfast from downstairs; consisting of, from what you saw, honeyed oatcakes and fruit tarts and rations of fried eggs and sausage. Your stomach was still quite empty, but you didn’t have the heart to go back. You needed time to think, time to rest.

After you nursed a few sips of water from a bottle in your knapsack, you finally allowed yourself to sink onto the bed, sighing out in contentment.

Everything felt so quiet, so still. This all felt like one of the stories you’d make up back when you were still in the cell. Perhaps it was all a bad dream, and you’d wake up in Wooyoung’s arms in Yunho’s little cottage, his lips littering soft kisses down the column of your throat until you stirred back into consciousness. A shiver ran through your spine and you sluggishly tucked the blanket up to your chin.

But since this wasn’t a dream, you found yourself at a loss.

“Oh, Wooyoung,” you whispered. “What should I do? Where are you?”

It was so quiet that you could imagine Wooyoung’s voice in your head saying, “Don’t worry about me. Just go. Get back on the ship and sail away and never look back.” You frowned at the thought, curling onto your side so that your knees were pressed up to your chest.

“I love you,” were the last words imaginary-Wooyoung murmured, before your mind grew blank. The silence that followed was what ultimately lulled you into a tranquil slumber.

You were awoken partly from the light from outside angling directly into your shut eyes, and partly from the agitated growl emitting from your stomach. Blearily blinking the sleep away, you glanced around the room, fumbling for the bottle in the knapsack. After gulping down enough to quench your thirst, you slid out from underneath the purple blankets.

And following digging your knuckles into your eye sockets, you stumbled towards your boots, shoving your still-sore feet in. You didn’t bother lacing up the loose threads. After all, you were just going down for lunch, anyway.

Downstairs, the inn seemed far more crowded than it had been in the morning. A twinge of paranoia sang its trill song in the back of your mind, but you pushed the thoughts away, moving to sit on a dark stool in the corner.

“Slept well, I presume?” The innkeeper grinned slightly, raising an eyebrow at the state of your rumpled hair. “What’ll you have for luncheon, then?”

“Anything you have, I suppose,” you replied in a raspy tone, clearing your throat slightly.

A bowl of steaming rice and battered fish cubes slid across the counter, along with a side of warm bread and a slab of light canary-hued butter melting off the top. You were quick to tuck in, eating at a pace that would most probably have your stomach complaining in the near future.

The innkeeper looked like he wanted to ask you something, but ultimately didn’t get the chance as an influx of customers poured through the doors. You barely glanced upwards, wanting nothing more than to finish up your meal and head back upstairs to properly plan out what you were going to do. The growing crowd’s noise was starting to make you feel a little antsy.

A solid five minutes later, your bowl was already empty, save for sticky rice kernels stuck to the bottom. You dropped a gold coin next to the half-eaten buttery bread as a token of thanks for the innkeeper.

And when you hopped off the stool and looked forwards, you could practically feel your heart lurch into your throat. The sight of him was one that you never thought you’d see again, nor did you want to. You’d recognize him anywhere. He looked unchanged, the same roughly-shaven beard covering the expanse of his squared jaw, the jagged scar that trailed over his sallow cheekbones. Those damned stormy eyes, the same color as the princess’ silver necklace.

The man that had guarded your cell for God knows how long surveyed the chatting crowd with an ugly scowl imprinted onto his features, nose upturned as if he misliked being amongst the common folk. He moved away from the door, shoving past the common civilians milling about. The innkeeper was the first to notice the burly man’s presence, raising a questioning eyebrow.

“Hello, sir. How can I help you today?”

Completely skipping over any need for niceties, the guard held up an unfurled scroll, “We’re searching all nearby premises for a dangerous criminal. Looks like this.”

From your position, you couldn’t see what he was showing the innkeeper, but it was quite obvious that it was some sort of rough artistic rendition of you. Dread trickled into you as you watched his face morph into one of slight recognition.

You needed to leave. Right now.

The busy throng of civilians were used to your advantage as you silently weaved through the crowded inn, people you bumped into ranging from deliriously drunk to slightly tipsy. Your heartbeat was thundering far too loudly, to the point where you couldn’t hear what the guard was growling out. You were a couple meters behind him now… if he so much as looked backwards, you would be a dead person standing.

Shit. The knapsack. It was still in your room. You probably wouldn’t last two days without it. And so, you set off for upstairs, pace steadily growing quicker, in tandem with your palpitating heart rate.

Grab your pack, leave from the window, repeated itself over and over in your head, a mantra of panic and dread. Downstairs was too much of a risk.

You were running so quickly that your boots caught onto the wood of the stair steps, and you just about face planted against the bunt of the hard surface. Pain blossomed across your nose bridge and temple. Slightly disoriented, you pushed yourself back onto your feet and rushed away. No time. There was no time at all to get hurt. You needed to leave. What good were you to Yunho, to Wooyoung, if you were thrown back into a cell?

Utter relief sank its greedy claws into you as you burst into your room. No time, no time, no time, your own voice echoed in your head. You grabbed the knapsack and pushed at the window and—

“Shit!” You cursed angrily when the window didn’t budge, the cold panes wedged tightly against the wooden slats. It was then that you noticed the bolted lock clipping the window pane and wooden framing together. “Oh, fuck.” Your breaths came out as tight, staggered pants.

Before you could decide on what to do next, you heard shrill screaming come from downstairs, the terrible sound of steel against flesh reaching your ears. There was nowhere to go from here. You were trapped.

Practically hyperventilating at this point, you scurried back to the door. Perhaps if you went downstairs and blended into the crowd, you could get out without anybody else noticing.

But alas, you never got the chance. Because just as you turned into the hall, you were met with the horrendous sight of the stormy-eyed guard, the very same one that you saw every single day you were in that rotten cell, an appalling look of triumph splayed across his rugged features.

A leering grin twisted his ugly features in such a horrid manner that it took all you had in you not to retch. You noticed the way his sword was unsheathed, a ripe shade of carmine trickling down its sleek blade. No doubt that’s the innkeeper’s blood, you thought solemnly.

Before you could react, the guard’s calloused hand shot out to grab your forearm, pulling you along with him so roughly that you stumbled onto the floor, hands and knees scraping against the wood in a manner that had your skin torn and bleeding. Feebly, you attempted to grab at anything to hit him with, to hold on to out of desperation. With no remaining patience, the monster of a man yanked you upwards by the throat. Choked gasps left you as your hands darted up to claw at his clenching fingers, but you immediately stiffened when he snarled out something that had your blood running cold.

“The Gods have been kind to you today, girl. I would have you speared right here… have you bleeding out until all the life has been drained right out of you.” His putrid breath fanned across your neck as you struggled in his iron-clad grip fruitlessly. “Lucky for you, the princess has personally requested you be brought back alive.”

It was dark outside when Wooyoung cracked his eyelids open for the second time. Through the window across from him, he could see a plethora of stars speckled across a blanket of raven black, glinting and winking at him through the glass. The room he was in was beautifully decorated, stone arches elegantly curving just below the ceiling and intricate flame holders spaced out on the pristine walls. The candles bathed the room in a gentle honey-like luminescence; calming and tranquil, almost a sedative. All of his previous aches and pains were now dulled to gentle numbness.

Where am I?

“Glad to see you’re back awake. You’re not going to pass out on me again, are you?”

Wooyoung nearly screamed at the sudden voice from beside him, flinching so hard that the crown of his skull knocked against the bed’s headboard. He hissed in pain, face contorting into a grimace.

The elf (Yeosang was his name, Wooyoung faintly recalled) muffled a snort underneath his breath before swiftly pulling up a chair and sitting beside him, “Does it still hurt anywhere? I tried to heal your wounds with sarcio essence, but seeing that you’re human, it’ll take a bit longer for you to recover. You took quite a beating, you know.”

Wooyoung tried to speak, but the dryness in his throat made it hard to speak.

“Oh, here.” The attentive elf poured cold water from a pitcher into a small cup, handing it over to Wooyoung. He gingerly drank, swallowing with great effort.

“Where… where am I?”

After pursing his lips in thought, Yeosang bowed his head slightly, glancing at the tight bandages wrapped around the dark-headed man’s torso. “You’re in Nymaeden.”

“Nymaeden?!” Wooyoung just about shrieked. His bruised features twisted in agony. Perhaps he shouldn’t have shouted. Then, in a much softer tone, he mumbled out, “how did I get here?”

He was, most likely, all the way across the world from you. Although his mind was still heavily clouded, you were still fresh and prominent in his mind. He hoped you were okay… left tied up on that pirate ship… Gods, this was all his fault… What a fool he was, thinking you’d be okay after all that you’d gone through. You probably thought that he was dead.

The blond elf arched an eyebrow. “You don’t remember?” When Wooyoung shook his head in hesitant denial, Yeosang continued on patiently, leaning forward.

“It was just three nights ago…”

The waters were cold, seeping into his flesh and bones, filling every one of his orifices, the salt trickling into him like sand down an hourglass. He could feel it drip into his lungs. Bubbles of his life slipped past his cracked-open lips and Wooyoung, with what little energy he had left to spare, lifted his fingers and tried to catch the small globules of air. The sticky blood that clung onto his skin like honey dissipated into the ocean, staining the waters a darker, sinister hue.

Wooyoung closed his eyes. His limp body sank further and further down. This was the end.

But was it?

Mermaids, being curious and spirited creatures they were, watched the injured handsome man drift across the ocean, crimson blood seeping out of his wounds. They had seen how he was thrown off the ship, how he had fought when he was onboard. They took pity on him. Even unconscious, a pain, far deeper-rooted than his physical cuts and gashes, was quite obviously splayed across his features. It was the face of a man with an utterly broken heart. He had just lost something very dear to him, that was made abundantly clear.

The small group of mermaids glanced at each other worriedly, almost immediately reaching a mutual consensus. In a swarm of colorful scales and wispy locks of hair, they swam towards the unmoving body.

One of them shamelessly prodded at him, ogling him with widened eyes, and they waited with baited breath. Wooyoung did not awaken. And so, two of the elegant creatures wrapped their arms around his leaking torso, and jolted into a brisk swim, carrying him across the oceans. Wooyoung’s raven hair pulled away from his face, revealing the deep gashes across his paling skin. A thinning trail of his blood followed them. They had to be quick; this man was just on the verge of greeting death.

They were taking him to Nymaeden, the land of the Elves. The elvish folk were the best healers they knew, and they were rather fond of the mermaids. Perhaps they would be willing to heal this unfortunate soul.

“We found you on the beaches,” Yeosang said in a discolored tone. “You were… you were practically dead. It was a miracle we got your heart rate back up, really. You’re either an incredibly thick-skulled fighter or… you’re just a coward afraid of death.”

Wooyoung winced at the elf’s stinging remark. Which was it? Was he running away from what was inevitable? What was he fighting for?

Y/N, the small voice in his head chimed. Wooyoung swallowed heavily.

“These mermaids… could I speak to them? Maybe they saw where the pirate ship went!”

Almost immediately, Yeosang shook his head. “I’m sorry, the mermaids are long gone now. They’re due up North, and I doubt they’d come back anytime soon.” There was a whicker of sympathy hidden behind his molten hazel irises. “Do you have any other plans? We can’t exactly keep you here in the medbay for all eternity.”

For a second, Wooyoung’s ragged breathing stilled.

“Pirates,” he murmured under his breath unsurely, just loud enough for the elf to pick up. “Where can I find them?”

Rearing back, Yeosang hissed out, “you must’ve hit your head harder one too many times, human. You were almost in death’s bony grasp, and now you want to go back?”

“I don’t care!” Wooyoung erupted, flinging his hands upward, despite his muscles screeching in agony. “It’s not about me anymore. I left her on that ship… and I have to get her back. Please, Yeosang. Please.”

There was a beat of tense silence. Yeosang was no longer looking at the pleading injured man, but his head angled towards the window, gazing at the pale moon that decorated the night’s horizon in deep thought.

“You mustn’t tell anyone,” the blonde elf warned, narrowing his eyes. Wooyoung nodded vehemently. “Elves and pirates don’t mesh well together, I’m sure you know. Pirates are nowhere to be found in this country, they know well enough to steer clear of our waters. However… if you head westward past our nation’s border, you’ll find yourself in Cinisia. It might look like a small, harmless country, but I’m afraid you’d be gravely mistaken. Cinisia is perhaps the most dangerous country on the maps. Along their west coast, there’s an illegal trading market. Pirates swarm the coast like ants would spilt honey. If you’re looking for pirates, I’d bet all my silvers they’re there.”

Wooyoung took a moment to contemplate this. “How do you know of this market?”

“I’ve got into muddy territory with pirates myself,” he uttered with a stormy expression. A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I have said this before. Elves and pirates? Not the best of friends, I can tell you that.”

Releasing a shuddering sigh, Wooyoung asked one final question. “Do you think I’ll find them? Do you think I’ll get Y/N back?”

Yeosang leveled a cold gaze with the dark-haired man, before gracefully rising to his feet and striding towards the door. “I’ll get you a map and traveling clothes and rations. You can leave at first light, so get some sleep. You’ll be needing it.”

A sinking feeling weighed heavily in Wooyoung’s stomach. He hadn’t answered the question.

Right before he left, Yeosang paused by the arched doorway and spoke once more without even turning to look at him. “And just so you know… if you make it out of that market alive and empty handed… I want you back here in Nymaeden. There’s something I want to offer you.”

The elf left in a blur of sage fabrics and soft flaxen locks. The honeyed flames of the candles withered inwards with his departure, faint tails of smoke dissipated into the air. The room faded into darkness, but Wooyoung was far too afraid to shut his eyes.

He was scared of dreaming of you.

That morning was one of the toughest he’s ever had. Yeosang had handed him a pack of traveling rations and equipment, bidding him adieu with a stout nod of his angular face. His muscles groaned and screamed with agony with his every step. The trek to Cinisia took hours upon hours, with hardly a break. Wooyoung was far too jittery to stop. He had to keep going. Creeks babbled with glowing water and the trees whispered poems in the wind, their alluring shadows offering a tempting sanctuary.

The contrast between Nymaeden and Cinisia was startling. Whilst the former was a luscious country of opals and forestry and pale elegant fortresses climbing to the sky, the latter was… well, it was quite hard to tell what anything looked like past the thick red smog lacing the horizon. The air stank of ale and smoke.

Definitely pirate territory, Wooyoung surmised grimly.

The shrill noises of whistling and hollering was a telltale sign that he was close. Wooyoung stepped over weather-beaten rocks, peering around the rocky cliff ledge to see hundreds, perhaps even thousands of ruffians gathered together in a colorful flurry of stolen fabrics, foods, and riches that seemed all the more glorious under the sweltering sun. Now, it smelled strongly of stale fruitcakes and gunpowder and sweat. Not the best of aromas, that was for sure. There were also pirates yelling out indiscernible prices that seemed to climb with every shout. He was pretty sure he saw a couple of them scuffling in a fight, some landing a couple square punches (most missed because they seemed to be too drunk to aim properly) on the nose before brushing their injuries off as if it were nothing.

What an awful place. Wooyoung could only hope you weren’t here. Well, no, that was a blatant lie. He’d do anything to see you again.

After digging his knuckles into his eye sockets to wipe his weariness away, he blinked the colored spots away from his vision with a melancholic sigh. Gods, he was tired. Unfortunately, he had little time to lament, so he pushed himself onwards.

Wooyoung seemed to blend in just perfectly; he was thankful Yeosang decided to pack in a tattered cloak. The rest of the pirates didn’t seem to bat an eye. Standing in the middle of a throng of filthy seamen, it was hard for Wooyoung not to double over and retch. His roiling stomach didn’t aid his precarious state one bit.

Though everything seemed to be a cacophony of rowdy pirates and the clattering of illegal trade, Wooyoung picked up on a particular chunk of dialogue exchanged between a gaggle of men.

“Have you heard of the siren incident? Yeah, it happened near the Isles of Odralle! Can you believe? Ship was fuckin’ headed to the capital of Odralle, but they had a sudden change of plans; suddenly wanted to go to Aurecia. Cocky bastards think they can sell anything to anyone nowadays, yeah? Good thing the sirens took them. Wonder if they were tasty, though. Stupidity fouls the meat, my father used to say,” one of the pirates rambled as he slurped on his ale.

“Your father was a jackass,” another snorted, pounding on his chest with laughter. “What the fuck is a ‘siren incident’? I swear you lot gossip ten times more than me wife does.”

A third pirate shoved at his shoulder, a look of incredulity painting across his tanned features. “How have you not heard? A famous pirate ship - maybe one of the most famous ones in history - got lured into siren territory! The whole crew’s gone. Ship wreckage hasn’t been found. Nobody’s heard or seen them at all. My guess is that they made a calculation mistake and went off navigation charts once switching from Odralle to Aurecia. Then the sirens… got the best of ‘em.”

This elicited a gasp from the fourth in the group. “Wait! The big ship with the peg-leg captain with just one eye? Damn, just hearing stories about him gives me the creeps. Legend had it that he defeated not one, but two fuckin’ krakens during a storm! His ship flag is, er, the red and gold one… with a skull, right? And the skull’s laying in blood and swords?”

Wooyoung felt his blood run cold.

He knew that flag. The flag they were describing… was exactly the one he saw before they took you… before they threw him out for the sharks…

And before Wooyoung could even think it through, he found his body jerking forward, pushing past the bystanders and throwing himself into the gossip circle with all but a mangled growl escaping his throat. He yanked the last pirate to speak forward by the collar until the tanned man’s face was so close, his nose brushed against Wooyoung’s. The rest of the gang immediately quelled their incessant yammering, eyes growing wide in interest. Some placed their hands onto the hilts of their curved swords as a precaution, but they didn’t want to do anything hasty. After all, they loved a good fight.

“WHEN WAS THIS?” Wooyoung was glad his voice didn’t crack as he yelled, shaking the stricken pirate by the collar. “There was… there was a woman on that boat. She can’t be gone! She can’t be dead!”

They all looked at him as if he were crazy.

And after a second longer, Wooyoung’s grip loosened. It seemed he was a little rougher than first anticipated, because the fabric around the tanned pirate’s neck was crumpled and one of the pearly buttons came loose, dangling by a thin thread. He staggered backwards two steps, painfully sucking in lungfuls of rancid air.

Were you… were you gone? Was that it? Had you succumbed to the siren’s sweet song of death?

“Mate,” the tanned pirate spoke up with a lilt of sympathy in his tone. “There was never any woman on that ship. And besides, the ship hasn’t actually been found yet.”

The fire of hope that once burned brightly within the hearth of Wooyoung’s chest, was now but a dying ember. However, the man’s words gently blew on the warm ash until a new flame ignited. This was a different kind of hope. Who knows, maybe you had managed to escape the sirens. For all that was good on this planet, Wooyoung hoped you were still alive.

It was then that the most peculiar thing happened.

A man (if he could even be considered a man) - perhaps one of the ethereal beings he’s ever set his eyes upon - strode up to the circle of pirates, leveling his stormy gaze with Wooyoung. His hair was a shocking shade of pink, laying in loose strands across his forehead. A dirtied tunic hung over his shoulders in tatters, ripped and frayed in too many places to count. The belt that cinched around his waist was lopsided and unbuckled, dangling to the floor. The trousers he was wearing, a dusted shade of raven’s wing, was in the same state of disarray as his tunic. He was a mess, and Wooyoung could see a thick film of distraught glazing his eyes.

“My name is San,” he rasped. “And I was on that pirate ship.”

The marble was cold beneath your scraped knees. Your eyes studied the golden rivets decorating the pale white floor, splintering off into branches of aureate, though it was quite difficult to see through the bruises and unyielding blood obscuring your vision. If your hands weren’t bound behind your back, you would’ve at least tried to staunch the crimson seeping out of the fresh cut you sported across your temple. The guards had thrown kicks and punches everywhere they could reach until you had stopped struggling, every fibre of your being felt nothing but raw pain and the kind of anger that left you completely and utterly exhausted.

You just… you wanted it to all be over.

However, with the King and Queen sitting tall and proud just meters in front of you, you highly doubted things would be resolved at the snap of a finger. Beside their majesties sat the rest of the royal bloodline, dainty crowns of lustrous tawny and glinting silvers resting upon their regal heads.

They made you sick.

“I must say,” the Queen purred at last, placing her chin on her palm while gazing at you with a malevolent smile, irises of amethysts glinting in the cold light. “It’s impressive how you managed to escape the dungeons in your condition. Even got yourself a pretty little boat and everything.”

You could feel yourself blanching. How did she know about the pirate ship you left by the beaches?

“As I’m sure you’re aware by now, Y/N is only but a legend. Though nobody truly believes you’re real, you are still very much respected throughout the nation. And since you’re regarded so highly amongst the common folk,” the King rumbled, clasping his hands together with a smug leer tracing his lips. “You’ll be made a lowly servant for the lovely Princess, Amarelia.” He gestured further down the line, to a sweet young girl barely of age. The Princess was a frail thing, with skin of dove’s wings and lips of sweet peaches and lashes that kissed the apples of her cheeks. She somewhat resembled a fawn, what with her large eyes and innocently placant features. Her curled sienna locks were gathered into an elegant updo, showcasing the glimmering silver laces on her dainty neck.

The very ones that you tried to steal so long ago, and the entire reason you were even here. That necklace was what made you a well-known myth in Cerulea.

Anger broiled deep within you, but you kept your mouth clamped shut. There were guards ready to strike if you moved even a centimeter, and you decided to play it safe for now.

There was something you were practically dying to ask, though.

What did you do to Yunho?

“To welcome you into servitude,” the Queen surveyed you with hooded eyes. “Crawl to Amarelia and kiss her shoes. Thank us for not having you executed on the spot. Perhaps it shall give you an idea of your rank in this castle. You are nothing to us.”

“Mother!” The Princess gasped in protest with something akin to pity and horror melding into her soft complexion. It was clear that the sweet dove wanted nothing to do with this. In a way, you felt sorry for her as well.

Nobody paid her any mind.

With a heavy heart, you started shuffling towards the Princess. Pain and humiliation blossomed across your skin like flames crawling over oiled wood. A part of you considered standing your ground, lifting your head high, refusing to obey any of her commands. And you would’ve, truly. But… Yunho. If there was even the slightest chance he was alive and kept hostage because of you, you needed to remain on your best behavior. For his sake and even perhaps for your own.

Once in front of her, you dipped your head to quickly brush your lips against her fine cream flats, immediately straightening your spine with a grimace afterwards. Amarelia regarded you with a sympathetic look.

The guards stepped forward to roughly drag you back to your original spot. Your mind barely registered the cold sensation of metal clamping around your neck, the rattling of chains a ghostly echo in your ears. The Queen was grinning so widely it was a wonder her face didn’t split in half. It took everything you had in you not to spit onto the floor in defiance.

When they started tugging you towards the grand double doors, you realized that you couldn’t just sit around and allow them to throw you around like a ragdoll. You kicked out your feet in resistance, ignoring the cinching pain of the metal around your neck, boots thudding against the smooth marble surface. The guards swore under their breath, pulling you along ever harder.

“WHERE’S YUNHO?” Your hoarse voice ripped across the throne room. “DID YOU KILL HIM? DID YOU KILL YUNHO?! LET GO OF ME! YOU MURDERER!” The small quirk of the Queen’s perfect eyebrows had you spouting out obscenities, rage bubbling over your struggling form.

Double-doors swung open, and with that action brought the largest crowd you’ve ever seen in your life. There must’ve been thousands - no, hundreds of thousands of people out there. And they’ve all come for you. The myth and the legend. Y/N L/N.

It was all so sudden. You didn’t even remember how you got to the front of the highrise platform, being forced back onto your knees with a grunt. There were common folk and wealthy lords alike littered about the ocean of heads. Some looked to be terrified, others watching on with hanging lips of awe.

You swallowed heavily.

“Behold!” The King bellowed from somewhere behind you. There was a sneering lilt to his tone that made you want to spring upwards and knock his teeth out. “Your beloved Y/N!”

The crowd in front of you erupted into pandemonium. It was a strange and overwhelming cacophony of displeased boos and excited screams.

“A legend and a hero to some of you, I’m sure,” the Queen hummed, somehow instantaneously quieting the buzzing mass of people. “Now diminished to a mere servant. Y/N L/N is nothing, and acting like they are worth any bit more than scum will lead to treason. I’m truly sorry to disappoint some of you.”

She didn’t seem sorry at all. The crowd practically roared at that, most especially the commoners at the back, yelling curses until their throats were raw as they threw moldy apple cores at the guards.

You hung your head in shame, gaze trained to the wood slants of the stage. Hushed murmurs travelled about the rest of the crowd like waves gently crashing against shore. You were alone on this beach, it seemed.

Truly, utterly alone.

You must’ve had the worst luck in the world.

No matter how much you’ve fought, struggled, resisted, it always ended up the same. With you kept captive. That musty jail cell because of a damned necklace, then bound on the pirate ship to be sold off in Aurecia (a part of your heart sunk at the memory of the friendly fairy-pirate San jumping overboard)… and now a different cell, your wrists chained to the cobbled wall behind you. Your arms were sore yet numb, almost having lost any feeling in them, but that was the least of your concerns.

It was bright here, unlike your first cell. Back then it was always dark, and always cold. There was a crackling fire across the room, licking hungrily at the burning wood, casting amber phantoms across the expanse of your place of confinement. It wouldn’t be long until the fire died out and you’d be shivering once more. There was also a small window, but it was far away from your reach, and you wouldn’t even bother to try, considering your arms were laced above your head.

Being back in the castle had your mind racing. Everything had been so loud outside. But now that you were alone with only your own thoughts to accompany you, it almost felt suffocatingly quiet. The silence was deafening, roaring awful things into your ears.

You missed Wooyoung. What would he do in your position? You hoped he wasn’t here, truly. He deserved to be happy elsewhere. But you couldn’t deny that a small part of you wished he was back here with you.

Face it, he’s not coming to save you, the snarky voice in your head spat out. Nobody is. You’re on your own. You have to save yourself.

It was at that moment the door creaked open. A man with silver hair slid in, grimness splayed across his defined features, like the wiry shadows of tree branches marring the warm light of the room. You spotted the medical kit he clutched in his sure hands.

He was the royal healer. It somewhat surprised you that the King and Queen sent him. Perhaps it was Princess Amarelia’s doing; she seemed to have a pure enough heart. Her parents, on the other hand…

“Are you alright?” His voice was a soft thing, a mere whisper, almost lost to the loud snapping of the fireplace. Hesitance was evident in his tone, accompanied with stinging sympathy. “I apologize, that was a foolish question. Of course you’re not, that’s why I’m here. My name is Seonghwa, I’m the royal healer for this castle. May I?” He brandished a bottle of strange blue ointment and cotton patches. You had just been humiliated and degraded in front of thousands of people, and now a royal healer was apologizing to you? He was certainly giving you whiplash.

After pausing for the slightest of moments, you dipped your head just slightly, still waiting for something bad to happen.

“Sarcio essence,” Seonghwa murmured gently as he doused the patch with the blue liquid. “Ceruleans steal it from the elves of Nymaeden. Its healing abilities are unlike anything we’ve ever seen. Ever since magic, of course. But that’s a thing of the past now. Magic is illegal in Cerulea. Not sure if you heard while you were down there in your cell.”

That made a frown flicker across your face. Cerulea, the ever-perfect country, needing to steal things from other kingdoms?

And with another stout nod, Seonghwa leaned forward to swipe at your fresh wounds and bruises, cleaning away the dried blood with nimble movements. It stung at first, restrained hisses escaping your lips as you squeezed your eyes shut. It felt like your skin was burning, and everything was on fire and the silent monsters were screaming your name.

“It’s a good thing if it stings a little. That’s your body working to put itself together.”

It was silent for a long time. You had to clamp your teeth down on your bottom lip so as to not let him hear your pathetic winces of pain.

The healer seemed to notice this, brows furrowing. “You don’t have to try to be strong around me, Y/N. You’re hurting, and it’s okay to show that. I won’t think any less of you.”

You eyed him with somewhat of a dubious aura, before bobbing your head for the last time. “Thank you,” you muttered brokenly.

Seonghwa hummed softly in response, screwing the cap back onto the sarcio essence.

The familiar creak of the door swinging open floated across the rooms, and you snapped your head upwards. Even the healer appeared to be surprised, bowing his head low at the newcomers. Also known as, if you had to put it eloquently, the true and utter banes of your existence. If you were the single flickering candle, they would be the tornados constantly whispering your flame good night.

It was the King and the Queen, draped in a waterfall of golden lace, diaphanous silver silks, and striking tones of mauve matching the hue of their angry irises. They held their heads high, looking at you as if you were the shit stuck on the bottom of their fine shoes.

“Leave us,” the Queen commanded Seonghwa without even glancing in the direction of the medic. She kept her gaze trained on you, and only you. Silently, he left the room with not another word, shuffling out of the door, unable to spare you one last sympathetic glimpse.

After surveying you, the Queen graced you with what seemed to be a smirk, and beckoned towards the guards behind her.

“Bring him in,” she said, practically dripping with delighted malice.

What happened next had you choking on your own gasps, tears immediately rimming your eyes like frost sitting atop tree branches on a harsh wintry morning. It had your stomach curling into itself, nausea climbing up your throat, begging to escape. A scream, so disgustingly raw and broken that it didn’t sound like your own voice echoed throughout the room.

They threw a peach-haired man in front of you, and he crumpled to the ground as if he were nothing more than a stringless puppet. If you thought that you were hurt, it was absolutely nothing in comparison to the sweet baker that you were so very fond of. He looked to be half dead already, bruises mapping the expanse of his pallid skin as abundant as there were stars in the sky. His once-bright pink strands of hair now looked a sullen grey, as if all the life had been seeped out of him. Dried blood crusted his cuts and gashes, littered all over his shivering form. You swore, with every fiber of your being, you were going to kill whoever hurt him.

“YUNHO!” You cried, heart lodged in your throat. The soft giant who had once been so boisterous, laid unmoving on the cobblestone floor. Kicking against the wall, you yanked away at your manacles fruitlessly until your wrists grew raw, wanting nothing more than to fall to your knees and crawl to him and ask if he was alright. It didn’t matter that you were hurting yourself in the process, you just… you wanted to get out of these chains, out of here, away from everything.

How dare they?

Tears were rolling down the apples of your cheeks, conjoining at your jaw and dripping mercilessly onto the ground. A constant drip, drip, drip of your pain made loud and clear to everybody else in the room.

You were so furious, so heartbroken, that you had forgotten anybody else existed for a short second. It was a shame that you were only reminded when one of the guards stalked up with the King’s nod of approval, gripping Yunho by his faded locks and yanking him upwards. His face didn’t seem to even flinch, numb and desensitized.

Was Yunho gone? No… no, he couldn’t possibly be…

A confusing concoction of sobs and desperate pleas and hiccups tumbled past your lips far too quickly for even you to understand yourself

The events that transpired rushed by in an indecipherable blur. You could barely pick up what the Queen murmured.

“This beloved baker friend of yours…” she cocked her head to the side in mock-thought, purple eyes flashing dangerously. “He is strong, I’ll give you that. However, he seems quite adamant not to give us any information about the other prisoner, Wooyoung. They were childhood best friends, no? I’m sure you remember him, don’t you?”

Your heart stopped at the sound of his name.

How dare you? How dare you? How dare you? The mantra reverberated in your skull until it was all you could think, staining your mind with an inky, poisonous black.

The mocking sympathy evident in her tone had you thrashing against your bonds all the more. “And alas… I’m afraid we no longer have any use for him.”

Just like that, the guard holding Yunho upwards drove his longsword clean through the gentle baker’s abdomen, dropping him to the floor. An ungodly wail tore from your vocal chords, resonating across the room and painting wicked smiles across the two royal leaders of Cerulea. Much to your horror, Yunho uttered no sound, merely dropping onto the stone with a thud. Crimson pooled at his wound so quickly, that the rose-hued ichor grazed against your feet in a matter of seconds. You stopped struggling, the drumming of your heart loud in your ears.

Since your gaze hadn’t left Yunho’s unmoving body, you didn’t even noticed the Queen sidestepping the puddle of blood, forcing your eyes away by gripping your slick face with one of her cold hands. You tried to pull your cheeks away, but it was as if her fingers were steel. Her purple eyes were so close to yours, you could see the flecks of aureate gold embedded within the enticing lilac. The Queen flashed you a charming smile, as if she hadn’t just murdered your friend in cold blood. It seemed she noticed your pounding heart rate, because she murmured an incantation in old Cerulean that you couldn’t quite pick up. In an instant, you could feel yourself relaxing in her grip, wrists going slack in the cuffs, the muscle in your chest thumping slower and slower. A part of you was afraid it would grind to a stop.

Her pearly whites flashed as she grinned evilly. The lavender in her eyes darkened drastically, to the point where any trace of gold disappeared completely.

“We didn’t kill Yunho,” she leaned closer and whispered into your ear, her tawny locks tickling the side of your face. “Killing is barbaric.”

There was an old story of a gingerbread man and a fox crossing a river you often heard retellings of during your childhood. The fox swore up and down that he wouldn’t eat the gingerbread man whilst helping him cross the river. As suspicious as the gingerbread man was at first, he eventually climbed onto the sly fox’s back, naive with hope. The fox arrived at the other side of the river alone and with a full stomach.

It seemed you were the foolish gingerbread man and the Queen was the fox. The Queen’s magic seeped into your being, clouding your mind in a dangerous haze you could no longer fight.

You believed her.

[themudokonmessiah]

Nolybab? Did they get to Nolybab? Not even close. Abe used Shrykull’s power to eliminate the Sligs and the machine’s power to stop them from going any further. Abe and Rayia grinned, knowing their plan worked brilliantly. They had faked being helpless to lure them in, and then, boom, gave over.

With Abe now officially safe once more, Rayia sighed in relief. And with luck, Eli had appeared too! Abe couldn’t believe it, and Eli was carrying his backpack! The elum and Mudokon were reunited and overjoyed. Eli gave Abe so many elum kisses that Abe laughed, patting him. “Man, I missed you, you stubborn dork.”

Finally. Now that he had Eli and his backpack back, he was confident he’d be fine now. Thankfully, the storm within himself had quelled, it was gone. Rayia had helped him find balance.

“Looks like you’re ready go back, Messiah.”

Abe nods. “Thank you for everything, Lady Rayia. I will make sure to keep in contact with you. If... You want that, of course.”

“I do,” she says, a soft, silly smile on her face. “More than anything. I... I-I meant what I said when... When I said that nobody... Nobody loves you the way I do. And I want to... To show you that, my love. My Messiah.”

“Wha? What do you mean--”

Odd, had she just kissed him? On the lips? Abe’s cheeks flushed, taken back by the kiss. Rayia soon pulls away, smiling to herself. “I... I love you. I have fallen for you, my Messiah. You are my light. I... I do understand if you don’t feel the--”

Now, it was Rayia’s turn to be taken back. Abe had kissed her back. Though, it was quick and lacked skill due being inexperienced with romance, but he was trying to do it anyway. When he allowed her to move from him, he cleared his throat and looked away nervously. He had never done that before. Did he do it right? 

“I-I do. I think? That... That felt real to me. I... I think I do love you too, Rayia.”

The two smiled at each other lovingly. Their paws touched ever so gently, staring into their eyes in silence. Rayia adored his eyes, how he smiled with such gentleness, how warm his gaze was. He was her sun, the one who she had been waiting for. She had found her mate, her true love. Nobody else could come close to how she felt about him.

Eli moaned as he pushed Abe’s shoulder with his nose to say “come on, we gotta go”, clearing wanting them to get back. Abe blinks and then realises what is happening. He grinned sheepishly at Eli, apologising. “S-sorry, pal. Just having a moment. Just saying goodbye to... To my...?”

“Partner?”

Abe smiled. “Yeah. Let’s try that.”

Rayia smiles back. She watches her beloved mount onto his elum, giving her a final smile. “I love you, my Messiah.”

The male nods, grinning. “My Lady. I shall return for you soon. I swear. Let’s go, Eli! We need to return!”

Soon, Abe was off with Eli, heading back to the Monsaic Lines as Rayia smiles with awe. Soon, she calls her own elum, Luna, to take her back home.

Abe was on his way home at last.

[josephqunnies]

Another tarlos pride HC. TK tells Carlos about the first pride he went to with his dads house, he wasn't out yet but owen wanted to make sure he knew he was accepted and loved on top of being told that all the time growing up so he did what he does best and went all out, printed itinerary included, Tk came out to him that night in an empty diner and they still always end pride regardless together in a diner, this year Carlos joins them(owen wants to make sure he carries on the tradition 😭😭)

• Owen sorta knew that TK was gay; he knew his son would come out to him in time. And TK did, with his dad sitting across from him, eating a slice of chocolate cake. He couldn't remember his dad eating chocolate cake anytime before that.

•so it becomes their thing, after the parade has ended and the parties had wonder elsewhere in Manhattan TK finds his dad in the little diner on 4th

•they talk and eat and laugh and it happens like clock work every year. Owen swears off the cake though.

• Austin's pride is different. They don't know the place that well, and life for them is different but Owen isn't letting that tradition die.

• he scouts out diners because TK deserves the best. He pulls him aside as soon as the parade is over and nervously ask if they're still on for dinner. He's sure TK would want to celebrate with Carlos and Paul because he has a support system now outside of the fire station

• but TK happily sligs an arm around his dads neck and wave goodbye to Carlos

•Owen sees the frown on Carlos' face as he walks away. Sometimes traditions can bend and change to include family

• and as long as Carlos makes TK happy (and make them amazing dinner) he's apart of their little (broken and little but real) family

[junghelioseok]

gift.

↳ sometimes the best gifts are right in front of you.

  ◇ seokjin x reader   ◇ fluff | hogwarts!au   ◇ 2.1k [1/1]

notes: oops, my hand slipped and now i have a bunch of little headcanons for bangtan and what their hogwarts lives would be like. anyway. this is ridiculously cheesy, and far from my best work, but seokjin is a goddamn gift and i wanted to write him. happy holidays (or should i say holi-taes), everyone! 

It’s impossible to miss the arrival of Christmas at Hogwarts. From the first day of December, the castle corridors are already strung with garlands of holly, wreaths hanging from every door. The towering fir tree in the Great Hall is wrapped in ribbons and tinsel, floating candles surrounding the verdant branches, and Taehyung swears up and down that he’s seen fairies fluttering among the flickering flames. You have yet to see if there’s truth behind his words. The fourth year Hufflepuff has always erred on the side of the whimsical, and while you normally enjoy his quirkiness, today you don’t have time for his tales of flightful fancy. Rather, your mind is plagued by one thought and one thought only. 

What, in Merlin’s name, are you going to get your best friend for Christmas?

It’s an impossible dilemma, really. How do you find a gift for someone who already has everything? Kim Seokjin is Head Boy and Keeper of Gryffindor’s Quidditch team—handsome, smart, and well-liked by all. After seeing a hippogriff nestle up to Jin’s side during your third year, you’re absolutely positive that there’s not a living thing on this earth that he can’t charm. You’ve even seen him befriend some of the portraits lining the corridors—the Fat Lady being one who is particularly fond of him. Undoubtedly, he’ll be receiving many presents during the holiday season, which only increases the pressure on your shoulders. You want your gift to be something special, something unique—not just chocolate from Honeyduke’s or pastries from his favorite bakery. 

Frustrated, you let your head fall onto the table, narrowing missing your inkpot. The soft thud sounds loud in the looming silence of the library, and you immediately sit up straight again, feeling self-conscious. “Tae, Kookie,” you whisper to the boys sitting across from you. “What are you guys getting Jin for Christmas?” 

Taehyung looks thoughtful. “Hm. I haven’t thought about it that much yet, to be honest. Do you think he needs a new broom?” 

You shake your head. “Nah, his aunt bought him a Firebolt for his birthday.” 

“Something from Zonko’s?” Jungkook suggests. “Or another Pygmy Puff?” 

A laugh escapes you at the thought. “What, you don’t think Odengie and Eomukie are enough?” 

Jungkook huffs. “Well, then, what are you getting him?”

“I don’t know!” you whine plaintively. “That’s why I was asking.” 

“Asking what?” a curious voice asks from behind you. Turning around, you find yourself face-to-face with Kim Namjoon, his eyebrows raised behind thick-rimmed glasses. 

“We’re talking about what to get Jin for the holidays,” Taehyung supplies helpfully. 

Namjoon sets a pile of books down on the table beside you before taking a seat. “So studying is going well, then,” he remarks dryly, eyeing your messily strewn notes. 

“Hey now,” you say, poking the studious Ravenclaw in the shoulder. “You focus on your O.W.L.s and let me focus on the N.E.W.T.s.” 

Namjoon grins. “Yeah, yeah. So, we’re talking about Jin, right? I’m getting him a new set of quills and ink. His keep going missing,” he directs a pointed look at Jungkook, “for some reason.” 

The third year Gryffindor shrugs off Namjoon’s accusation with a laugh. You roll your eyes at him before returning your attention to the fifth year. “That’s a great idea. Jin will love that.” Frowning, you think back to the last few months of classes for gift ideas. “Think he might need new potions ingredients? I know he lent his scales to Hoseok the other day, and I don’t think he’s gotten them back yet…” 

“Oh, I have those,” Taehyung says, digging into his bag and pulling out the polished brass set.

You raise an eyebrow. “Why do you have them?”

“Hoseok let me borrow them,” he responds immediately.

“Liar,” you and Namjoon say at the same time. Reaching over, you pluck the scales out of Taehyung’s hands and deposit them in your own bag. 

“I’ll get these back to him. Think I can count this as his Christmas present this year?” you joke as you stand up from your seat, stretching your arms overhead and working out the kinks in your neck.

“Honestly, {Name}, you could get him one of Hagrid’s rock cakes and he’d cherish it forever,” Namjoon says, his voice suddenly soft. “He adores you.” 

You’re oblivious to the meaningful glance that he gives you, slinging your bag over your shoulder as you turn to leave the library. “Mm-hmm. See you guys later,” you mumble vaguely on your way out, still musing about what you can possibly give to your best friend for the holidays. 

/// 

You’re still lost in your thoughts when you approach the portrait of the Fat Lady that guards Gryffindor Tower. She swings open after you give her the password, and just as you are about to clamber inside, someone else steps out, chin colliding with your head. The impact knocks you to the ground, spilling the contents of your bag everywhere. 

“Sorry about that! Are you okay?” 

Your gaze travels up to meet the worried brown eyes of none other than Kim Seokjin, whose expression lights up at the sight of you. 

“{Name}! Sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going,” he apologizes again, offering you his hand. You take it gratefully, allowing him to pull you back to your feet. As soon as you’re steady, he bends over to pick up your scattered belongings, tucking them back into your bag. 

“Thanks, Jin,” you tell him, picking up a few pieces of parchment by your feet. “I’m sorry too, I wasn’t paying attention either.” 

“Ah, you don’t have to apologize to me,” Jin says with a smile. He goes to pick up your Transfiguration textbook, gaze settling on the set of brass scales lying on the floor next to it. “Are those mine?” 

“Oh, right. Taehyung stole them from Hoseok,” you explain. “Go figure.”

Jin laughs. “Well, thank you for rescuing them from his clutches.”

Recovering the last of your items, the two of you straighten up, dusting off your robes. The Fat Lady watches you with an amused smile, and you tilt your head curiously at the expression. “Is something wrong, ma’am?” 

She giggles, pointing up toward the top left corner of her portrait. You and Jin take a few steps closer, trying to get a better look at the object hanging there. It resembles a green smudge, with perhaps a few wispy sprigs of leaves, and Jin, who stands several inches taller than you, recognizes it first. “Oh.” 

“What?” you ask, glancing up at him. His expression is frozen, and if you didn’t know better, you would think that he’s been petrified. 

“It’s… mistletoe,” he whispers, voice hoarse. 

It takes you a second to process his words. And when you do, you’re sure that your face must be just as shocked as his. “Oh.” 

A few seconds of silence pass, only to be broken by the Fat Lady. “Well? Come on, Jinnie, kiss her, for Merlin’s sake!” 

Jin takes a deep breath, not quite meeting your eyes. “Uh. Right.” 

You’ve never seen him this awkward before. Usually, Seokjin is filled to the brim with ridiculous confidence and flirtatious charm. Swallowing hard, you wonder what it means. He’s probably repulsed by the idea of kissing you, a dark voice in the back of your head croons. Just because you’ve imagined kissing him before doesn’t mean he’s done the same with you. You’re his friend. Just his friend.

A hand settles on your shoulder, drawing you out of your thoughts. Jin’s expression looks pained, his brown eyes shining with an emotion you can’t quite place. “I’m really sorry about this, {Name}.”

You wave off the apology with a brittle laugh that sounds fake, even to your own ears. “Don’t worry about it. Holiday tradition and all that, right?” 

“Right.” And then he is leaning down, his full lips covering yours. 

It’s a chaste kiss, just a quick press of his mouth against yours, but you still can’t help the fluttering feeling in your chest. Your fingers itch to tangle in his hair and pull him closer, but all too soon he is pulling away again, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. 

You can’t look him in the eye, so you settle for looking at his chin as you mutter, “I-I should get going. Lots of studying to do, you know.” 

A beat of silence, as Jin’s hand slowly leaves your shoulder. “Yeah. Right, sure.” 

Turning away, you shoulder your bag and make to climb up through the portrait hole when Jin speaks again, softly.

“{Name}. Thanks for, um, bringing my scales back. From Taehyung.” 

You can’t bring yourself to look back at him. “Anytime, Jin,” you respond dully, waving as the painting swings back into place.

/// 

You are just about to pour yourself some pumpkin juice the next morning, when Seokjin slides into the seat next to you with a warm smile. 

“Good morning, {Name},” he greets you, reaching for the pumpkin juice and pouring out two goblets before you can even react. 

“Oh. Morning, Jin. Thanks.” You accept the goblet he hands you, taking a small sip. 

A long pause, as Jin busies himself with piling his plate with food. You pick at a piece of toast awkwardly, watching him out of the corner of your eye. 

He’s acting normal, as if this is just any ordinary day—as if yesterday’s kiss never happened. Clearly, it hadn’t meant anything to him, nor should it have. Just friends, the little voice in your head reminds you cruelly. Ignoring the sinking feeling in your chest, you start to say, “What are you doing over the break?” 

At the same time, Jin begins, “So, about winter break…” 

Both of you stop. Jin laughs, and you smile back. 

“Sorry, go ahead,” he says. 

“No, please. You first,” you reply, and Jin releases a dramatic sigh. 

“Fine,” he huffs, but you can tell from the way his lips twitch that he’s joking. “I was wondering if you wanted to come visit over the break.” 

You blink at him, slightly taken aback. “Jin, I’ve been visiting you over break for the past four years. Do you really have to ask anymore?” 

He sets his fork down and scratches the back of his neck. “Well, I thought this time might be different,” Jin says slowly, cautiously. His gaze is serious, and you squint in confusion. 

“What… what do you mean?” 

His ears are beginning to turn pink. “I’m really sorry about yesterday,” he blurts all of a sudden. “I didn’t want our first kiss to happen like that—” 

Your heart skips a beat. Cutting him off with a raised finger, you carefully ask, “First kiss?” 

Jin’s cheeks are a little flushed now, too. With a nod, he adds, “And hopefully not the last,” but the way he trails off at the end almost makes it sound like a question. You can no longer contain the grin tugging at the corners of your mouth. The little voice in your head is silent. 

“Jin,” you start, gathering up all your courage. And when he meets your eyes, you lean forward, pressing your lips to his. 

His response is instantaneous, one hand coming up to cup your face while the other finds the curve of your waist. For a moment, you lose yourself in the feeling of his lips moving against yours, forgetting exactly where you are. 

A loud exclamation of, “Finally!” followed by a wolf whistle brings reality crashing back down around you. Breaking apart, you seek out the source of the interruption, eyes settling on a grinning Hoseok at the next table over, a clapping Taehyung beside him. Jin rolls his eyes, and you can see him resisting the urge to send a silencing spell flying at the two Hufflepuffs.

“So,” he begins, turning his attention back to you. “You’ll come visit me over break?” 

Your heart is soaring. “Of course.”

“I’ll have to introduce you to my parents all over again, as my girlfriend,” he says matter-of-factly. 

“Naturally,” you reply, grin widening. “I hope they’ll like me.” 

Jin laughs, grabbing your hand under the table. “How could they not?” 

You squeeze it softly, enjoying the feeling of his large hand enveloping yours. “I do have both their Christmas gifts already. I still don’t have yours, though,” you admit. 

Your best friend—boyfriend—shakes his head and brushes his fingers across your cheek. “Don’t even worry about that. You’ve already gotten me the best present.” At your look of confusion, he chuckles, wrapping his arms around you and pressing a kiss to your temple. “It’s you, silly girl. You’re my gift. The best gift I could ask for.” 

“In that case,” you murmur, nestling closer to his warm embrace, “Merry Christmas, Jin.” 

His lips twist into a smile against your skin. “Merry Christmas, {Name}.”

[indieks]

One-Life Stand 💫 Jungkook [0.1]

🛏 Pairing : Jeon Jungkook x Reader

🛏 Genre : Fluff, Humor, Minimal angst

🛏 Warnings : none for this part

🛏 Synopsis : Getting attracted to your long-time best friend, is something classical. Having a one-night stand with him though, is something alarming. While you get scared of your feelings and try to forget about it with the sake of your friendship as an excuse, Jeon Jungkook finally opens his eyes on his own and gets determined to turn this one-night thing into a real relationship.

0.1 || 0.2 || 0.3 || 0.4 || 0.5 || 0.6 || 0.7 || 0.8 || 0.9 || 1 [END]

🛏 A/N : I started to write this story in my notes and decided to take this further, so now I’m publishing it! A short texts and written series with my lovely, sexy and talented bias, the one and only Jeon Jungkook… I hope you like it, and thanks for reading! 

   "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

That's what the students' association made you swear once you arrived in front of the party's gates, and it made you laugh quietly before you resolutely took your oath with a hand on the heart. But you should have known better than thinking it would be a simple and funny Harry Potter’s reference to put you in the right and perfect mood to party, ready to go crazy till the end... As what had been supposed to be a fake oath, was really going to define all of your night.

Tonight, you shouldn't have stayed with your best friend as you always did ; you shouldn't have drank that much ; you shouldn't have left the party with him instead of your roommate ; you shouldn't have listened to him convincing you to do so... A lot of regrets and what ifs in just one night. But big school implies big parties ; a lot of people implies a lot of stories ; a lot of friends can become a lot of enemies ; and in the middle of all this mess, your best friend turned into the worst of your choices.

You entered the party with the will to kick Jeon Jungkook in the ass for having abandoned you and let you lost on your own, making you feel quite pathetic and insecure when you arrived – even if you were never going to admit it before him. You need to have pride, ladies and gentlemen, just pride.

"Ouch! Ya! You didn't have to hit me so hard!" your best friend whined, rubbing the spot your hand had smashed perfectly.

"You didn't have to be a proud asshole by leaving me!" you shrugged before greeting your friends laughing around the both of you.

"I'm going to kill you some day" he smiled, headlocking you and dragging you to the bar.

Oh god that headlock. You were so used to it that it didn't even bother you nor embarrass you anymore. Jeon Jungkook had headlocked you since the year you met in 7th grade, both of you put in each corner at the back of the class because you were listed as the "perturbing ones". What a smart move they had made, at least for the both of you, as instead of finally listening to class, you had settled a competition of the most badass one, making you hate each other at first, before becoming friendly. Opponents became true friends, disturbing and agitated loners became forever allies, and with time stupid children became young adults having walked through puberty together.

You had experienced so many things with Jungkook, from your teenager's crises, your fights with your parents, your runaways from home during night, your bad and good grades, and also your heartbreaks. Speaking of more-than-friendly relationships, you had at some point developped a crush on him and so had he, as a lot of best friends do because they feel like they can't be closer to another person, making them comfortable, making them want more just to see what it'd be, making them curious to check if love was in the air, or if definitely they only have a siblings-like relationship.

So you got curious, and you checked, during your first high school year. You had been having one of your movie nights – or more correctly anime nights –, seating lazily on Jungkook's bed with no other light in the room except for the one coming from the computer's screen. And suddenly, you had seen your best friend's chest turn towards yours, your eyes then distracting themselves from the colorful drawings moving fast before you, to land on his face that had been closer than what you had expected. And suddenly, you had kissed. It had been quick, but you still remembered his lips were soft and tasted like caramel with a tint of honey, probably from the popcorn you had been engulfing in your mouths before. Jungkook had retired and you had seen him frown, then shaking his head from the left to the right.

"Ew no. No no no. Definitely not. This isn't right." he had stated before tilting his head as he always did and he had smiled to himself, his nose crunching and his bunny teeth showing cutely.

While you had stared at his face you had been starting to find more and more attractive the past months, then in the emptiness because you, on the other hand, had been flustered. Shit.

Anywayyyy as any good best friend would have done, you quickly suppressed your growing feelings and never thought about them again, successfully. You didn't get jealous when he had girlfriends – except for one who had tried to exclude you from his life the year after your kiss – ; you didn't look at him in a doubtful way anymore ; you ignored the numb sensation you felt when he hugged or kissed you on the forehead – convincing yourself it was due to discomfort and disgust as always.

Jungkook grew up and became even more handsome, but you tried your best on putting a blind and thick filter before your eyes so that they would still see him like the little coconut he always had been for you, and not the manly man he was becoming. Successfully, successfully. Until you both attended the same college, last year. With all its dangerous parties and gatherings, its recrudescence of new faces for your own pleasure, but also of girls to turn around your best friend, making him smile cockily like a fool and become the #1 target of the university.

Jungkook had always been good at everything, ever since he was born, from perfect homework even without listening to classes, to sports, dancing, drawing, singing – you had heard him only a few times under his shower while waiting for him, and it had surprised you it was one thing he had never showed off about. So when he arrived at the university, his excellence pushed him towards fame with a nickname following him everywhere : "Golden boy". Jungkook had always been the #1 target of girls, in every grade and every school you went to, but he used to ignore it, more interested in games and silly friendships ; yet, while he had become the #1 freshman of a whole university, he slowly was retaking the place of the #1 boy and man in your life without you being able to control it as you yourself couldn't deny how almost perfect he was. And tonight, his safe but secret place in your heart was about to blow in your face at once.

    "Wow, you sure needed time to get yourself ready like that" Jungkook suddenly giggled, shaking you out of your thoughts as you both were waiting for your drinks behind the bar.

"What? Does that mean I'm pretty?"

"No, it means I can see you've put a lot of effort because you've upgraded from a toad to a frog, that's great!"

Another kick, and another time, Jungkook winced in pain.

"Fuck. You. I'm going to dance with my friends, don't talk to me 'til the end of the party you scumbag" you spat, grabbing your order and leaving your best friend laughing behind your back.

The party went on as usual, a very good one as always with your university, as it had a good group cohesion between all the students, no one caring about the major you were taking or the year you were in. This easiness of meeting new people and the good ambiance led your friends and you to chat with a group of guys in the same year as yours outside, with one you had already spotted during classes. And for your great pleasure, you felt something was in the air between the both of you and that wasn't one-sided, as you clearly caught the gazes he gave you from time to time even when you were not talking, and it made you confident.

So confident you let yourself be carried by the flirt-thing or whatever was going on between the both of you, drinking more at the bar in his pleasant company – the guy was nice, clever and funny, how lucky – then back on the dancefloor where you danced together. Some time passed by, and you finally hooked up in some dark corner of the room, with soft kisses at first that became more passionate second by second, but without him having misplaced gestures – how luckyyy. However, in the eyes of your best friend that had spied your whereabouts and doings, it wasn't as welcomed.

So Jungkook ditched the girl he was talking to – and that, in reality, you also had left him for as you had caught her looking at him during all the beginning of the party but clearly blocked by your presence –, and he went through the crowd. He sped his pace straight to you and your crush as the latter was taking you by the hand and leading you outside where you could both be less disturbed by the people around. Jungkook was almost suffocating when he finally reached the both of you, the vision of a boy taking you somewhere still being a trauma in his head ever since the event that had happened a few months ago.

You gasped when you felt a second hand grabbing yours and snatching it from your crush's grasp, that turned around with confusion and anger in his eyes.

"What do you want Jungkook?" the boy sighed.

Oh? They know each other?

"What did I tell you last time Y/N?!" Jungkook ignored, shouting over the music and looking only at you with his eyes wide open.

Why is he bringing that up again?

You mirrored his stare but with your brows furrowed, not getting what was going on with him and more than embarrassed before your crush that crossed his arms, clearly in frustration.

"What are you doing Jungkook?" you asked through gritted teeth, pushing him slightly with your hand to signal him to go away.

"Don't you remember last time, huh? Do I have to remind you? What did I tell you?!"

You looked at your crush from the corner of your eye, pleading him to excuse you through your pupils only and, thankfully, the smart guy nodded in understanding.

"Hey, I know what I'm doing, you're embarrassing me right now!" you lowered your voice so that only your best friend could hear you.

You turned away from him and were about to follow the handsome boy once again, but Jungkook had decided otherwise, and when Jeon Jungkook wanted something to be the way he'd like it to be, it was bound to become that exact way without discussing. So he grabbed you by the arm and he pulled you behind him, leaving you speechless but mostly pissed off at him as you saw that your crush was looking at the both of you and probably making assumptions.

"I'm sorry I'll talk to him and-" you tried.

"She won't go anywhere with you" Jungkook opposed and you sighed, slapping his arm for the third time of the night but the boy didn't budge ; instead, his firm grip on your wrist only tightened to the point it started to hurt.

What was wrong with him?

"Okay Y/N I'll let the both of you alone for now, let's talk later…" your crush said in a monotone, annoyance and confusion clear on his face, and then he disappeared behind the doors.

"Let go of me. Before I kill you right this instant." you threatened.

"I wouldn't have to embarrass you like this if you'd listen to me!" Jungkook exclaimed, turning to you and you got surprised by the furious gaze he directed at you.

And oddly, it made your heart flutter. You felt impressed but also overwhelmed in a good way, as Jungkook was rarely mad at you but when he was, your weak girl's heart couldn't deny how handsome he was. Like that event last time. Still, you were even madder at him so you shook your arm to free yourself from his grasp, and you crossed your arms on your chest.

"I have the right to flirt with guys Jeon! You're not my father! So go and live your life!"

"NOT WITH WHAT HAPPENED LAST TIME! I DON'T TRUST YOU OR GUYS ANYMORE!" he suddenly burst out, catching the attention of a few people around and you wished you could disappear into the ground.

What were they going to think? You looked like a couple fighting right now, and by tomorrow, you knew there would be rumors running in the hallways about you if he'd continue. Not like it would be the first time, no, it would be the third of the month actually, and the umpteenth since you've arrived at the university, because it looked like a guy and a girl couldn't be best friends without people shipping them or assuming things.

"Let's go home" he suddenly commanded and you shook your head from the left to the right.

However, from the way Jungkook was poking his cheek and looking at you with his chin leveled-up, you recognized his ready-to-fight face and you knew deep down that you were risking triggering his bad temper if you didn't oblige.

"It's not even three in the morning… And I saw you were with a girl before, what about her?"

"I don't care; I'm not in the mood anymore. Blame yourself. We're going to the dorms."

His shining hair was falling on his squinted eyes that were killing you more than scaring you, and it upset you to feel things just from his gaze, distracting you from your original anger against him.

"Jungkook let me live, please…" you pleaded weakly one last time.

"Not in my plans." he shortly answered in an irritated tone, before he grabbed your hand forcefully.

You were dragged to the exit with your hand in a guy's hand another time, but it felt so different. Earlier, you had been so excited to finally go outside with your crush, looking for some kind of intimacy ; now, if you had been about to murder your best friend that was walking fiercely outside, your body was curiously tingling everywhere, and your heartbeat was beating ten times faster. It probably was out of frustration, right? It should be.

Everything felt so familiar from this scene. You trailing your feet behind him but also you feeling flustered by him being mad. Everything seemed to be repeating itself, except that tonight, nothing had actually happened to you, reason why you still felt upset among your other forbidden feelings right now.

    "I don't like you playing the father or big brother with me Jungkook, I was fine!" you still were protesting as you had arrived at the dorms by foot, the party location only a few blocks away.

"You're coming to mine" he ignored, still pulling you but this time you resisted, making him finally stop in his tracks.

"I'm not! I want you to think back of how annoying you have been, and that all by yourself! Let me be! I don't want to see your fucking face for the rest of the night!"

"So what? You're going to return to him? You're more than tipsy you know, I felt it while walking with you, so no, you're coming with me because right now I can't be sure you won't do anything stupid!" he almost screamed at you.

That lecture was so familiar. Jungkook sounded like a scratched disk. The same arguments as last time, but still, one thing was different : you crush had been so nice and you were actually having a good time.

So what the fuck was happening to him?!

You looked at him with big eyes and your mouth agape, and when you felt a vibrant headache winning your brain the second his voice got louder, you knew he was right about you being drunk. You hadn't counted your drinks nor felt like it until now, too carried by the heat of the moment with your crush, but now that you were away from the party where being drunk supposedly makes the night more enjoyable, you clearly felt some weird sensations getting the best of you.

"A-And you, huh? Aren't you drunk and doing something stupid right now?! Nothing has happened to me like last time but you're still crazily mad, what's wrong with you, huh?!" you retorted in a way less convinced tone.

And as an answer, Jungkook breathed out and started walking again, not listening to you nagging repeatedly behind him as you were entering his empty dorm. You stopped before his door and he finally freed you to search for his keys, mumbling nonsense to himself and having a hard time finding them, and it signaled you your best friend wasn't in his clear mind no more.

"I don't understand why you're that mad. It happened months ago. I know what I was doing tonight…" you still were ranting on your own, waiting for him to answer the questions he had planted into your confused brain.

Jungkook slowly turned around to face you who were leaning against the wall, and you swore your heart had been about to jump out of your throat the second he landed his eyes on you. At first, they still seemed to be lightened by anger, but you quickly discovered that it was darkening into something lustful the more he was staring at you, giving you the chills and making you feel so small.

"What? What? You're going to scream at me again Jungkook oppa?" you teased as he hated being called like that, but you were more than desperate to trigger whatever reaction from him as he had given you the silent treatment for five minutes straight.

But you hadn't expected that kind of reaction. The one that implied him stepping dangerously closer. The one that involved him placing his hands on each side of your head, locking you into the human cage that was his toned body. The one that was followed by a deep and passionate kiss he unexpectedly gave you and that, even more surprisingly, you gave back and even prolonged.

  To be continued...

  A/N : Part 0.2 will be up in two days normally! only if you like it haha

[hsj-scenarios]

In this case, I would like to request something, how about parenting headcanons with the boys? What kind of father/husband would each of them be?

Some members have less headcanons than others, but that’s just because I don’t have as strong an image of them as parents than others ^^; Also put under readmore for the length of the post! – Mod L

Ryosuke:

he’s said before that he expects to get married in his 30s, once idol work has slowed down

is a husband with concealed guilt, as he feels that he’s made you wait a long time for something so cherished as marriage – especially if you’re older than him

because of this, he apologizes for little things that seem huge in his mind; from keeping you waiting for a simple outing to keeping you waiting well into the night because of work

he’s always keeping you waiting, isn’t he?

puts his foot down against his work schedule more when your first child is born, a son

Ryosuke loves children, and that love is increased 10x towards his own kids

wants a lot more kids tbh

eventually, the two of you are looking at three children – a son and two little daughters that are one year apart

the house becomes a lot more livelier and he loves it

however, though idol work is basically retired, he’s still very relevant in the acting world

it kills him to miss your son’s soccer game…and one of your daughter’s first words; which was ‘gaa’ (kaasan?)

spends a whole day trying to help your second daughter say ‘otousan’

heck, even just ‘tousan’ or ‘chichi’

days off spent at home seem like heaven on earth to the both of you, using the time as family days to spend at the park or simply at home

while the children were still toddlers, Ryosuke would hold them for so long that you’d warn they would never learn to walk if he spoiled them so much

and spoil them he does indeed, especially his daughters

if mom says no, then dad is the go to person!

“Dad, can I have this?” will almost always end up with ‘yes’, unless someone didn’t do their chores or misbehaved

and even though he’s a little harsher on his son, it’s only because he’s the oldest child; so Ryosuke expects the most responsibility out of the boy

makes up for it by taking his son on outings with just the two of them

despite spoiling them, he always has room for a joke or two at their expense

makes light of a bad grade by joking that they didn’t study enough or you weren’t eating well enough during your pregnancy

still, he’s never ashamed to let his children know how much he loves them or how proud he is of them no matter what

Ryosuke as a dad joke:

Yuto:

is a loving husband if there ever was one, there’s no shortage of kisses and hugs in your household

had a camera in his hand 98% of the time during your wedding, the only time he didn’t was when you both were saying your vows

“Just one glimpse for the camera before the wedding starts?” “Yuto, it’s bad luck to see the bride before then!”

as expected, he has a camera in his hand for your child’s birth (well, maybe not during childbirth lol) and all while they’re growing up

dad is the ‘cameraman’, as his child so fondly grows to call him

like Ryosuke, he’s likely grown into a more steady figure in the acting world as well

doesn’t mind taking you or your child on set with him, showing them off to his co-workers

look what he made! he can’t help but feel proud of them

for the kid, it’s a little surreal seeing their dad be the one behind a camera

because of the trips to see him work, it isn’t too surprising when someone wants to cast one of your children in a movie or drama; thus they’ll follow their dad’s footsteps

if this becomes more frequent, Yuto will adjust his schedule to be able to monitor his kid and basically act as a manager for them

he doesn’t want life in the spotlight to be too hard on them, especially at a young age

but at home, they never forget that their father is just as normal as any other

sometimes Yuto can’t help but go back to his dorky and childish ways

“Mom, can we have cake for dinner?”

he’ll join in, “I want some too…Can we, please?” cue a puppy dog look.

you swear, you’re the only adult in the house

personally, i can see Yuto comfortable with one or two kids, but if you want more then he won’t mind that either

Yuto as a dad joke:

Chinen:

like Yuto, I can see him completely fine with having only one kid

but boy, does it take everyone by surprise

the ‘baby’ of Hey Say Jump is having a baby?!

proud to let people know that you guys have a baby on the way, he probably phoned all of his friends and close family about it

Ryosuke and Keito invited the two of you out to celebrate the announcement – no alcohol for you though, of course!

don’t worry, Ryosuke’s paying

Chinen actually turns out to be a responsible and good father

if there’s ever a doctor’s appointment or birthday coming up, he’ll firmly let his work know that he can’t make it in

always good on his turn to get up at night to take care of the baby, hardly complaining

tries to savor the years his kids are small before they get taller than he is

probably the most rational parent

teaches the children gymnastics once they’re old enough

when your kid falls and scrapes their knee while playing, Chinen calmly takes care of the cut and lets the child know that everything is okay

he says it’s the more appropriate approach than freaking out over every injury, otherwise the kid will become scared as well

grows into a fairly strict father, knowing when to set boundaries and when to ease up on the rules

it wouldn’t be surprising if your kids end up successful one way or the other, having such a responsible father to guide them

Chinen as a dad joke:

Keito:

after the two of you are newly married, it’s as if you’d just met once again (in a good way) and Keito is adorably shy around you

even so, he gradually becomes normal again and does sweet things for you now and then; like breakfast in bed or random hugs and kisses throughout the day

you’re the newly wed couple all of your friends get diabetes from being around tbh

it doesn’t take long before you’re pregnant with your first child

and Keito is both incredibly happy and absolutely clueless

when is your stable period? what can and can’t you eat and drink?? would traveling too much be no good??? what about sitting down too much????

there’s a lot of phone calls to his mom for help

eventually, you find out that you’re having twins and he nearly passes out upon hearing the information

two kids? already?

are you both ready??

needless to say, Keito was one of those husbands that hardly left their pregnant wife’s side

once the children are born, he calms down…until you take the babies home

that’s when the real work begins, of course

having two babies, you both have your work cut out for you

there was plenty a night where you two slept in the nursery, too tired to get bad to the bedroom

but it was always a team effort, one taking up the slack of the other if either of you were too tired

even when the babies grow up to kids and then to teens, he’s still a learning father and handles everything as it goes

doesn’t go the same route as his father in order to help his children learn a new language and culture, but the family might all spend long vacations in England to get a new world view

Keito as a dad joke:

Daiki:

is also one of those husbands who wouldn’t want to leave their pregnant wife’s side, but he’ll think to read up on how to take care of a pregnant woman as well

actually attempts to cook a healthy meal for you…and fails

feels bad that he still has to rely on you to make decent meals, but makes up for it by helping when he’s not out working

before he goes off to work every morning, even before you’re showing, he says goodbye to both you and your baby by laying his hand on your stomach

he can’t ignore Baby Arioka, can he?

one day before he leaves, when you’re months in the pregnancy, the two of you are surprised to finally feel the kick of your baby directed at his hand

and Daiki’s so happy, “He heard me!”

he’s so sure it’s a son, already planning out father/son activities for when the baby is old enough

once the baby is born, he somehow gets enough energy to get out of bed every time the baby cries – at least for a while, then he wants to take turns

but for that first while, Daiki was a total champion

no matter how long the baby might cry, if they’re in Daiki’s arms then they’ll eventually quiet down

it almost hurts when the same thing doesn’t happen for you (lol)

son or daughter, it becomes clear that this is a total daddy’s child

it isn’t uncommon to come into the living room and see Daiki asleep on the floor, your baby – now a toddler – asleep on his stomach

not to mention the piggyback rides

upon becoming a child, regardless of gender, Daiki carries out those father/child days by going to the park and playing

a daddy’s kid indeed is what they probably grow up to be, since Daiki would likely be an excellent father

Daiki as a dad joke:

Inoo:

everyone’s a bit worried about how Inoo would turn out as a father, but also curious as well

he’s so relaxed, wouldn’t the kids try to take advantage of him?

honestly though, he’s worried too; which he confides in you later into your pregnancy

he’s clueless, basically put. everyone else is right.

but aren’t all new fathers even a little bit clueless on how to raise a child? experience will come with time.

and it does

though he’s hesitant to take care of the baby alone, you’re there to help him through his insecurities and eventually he feels more comfortable

there was a time when Inoo was too afraid to even hold the baby for an extended period of time, now he’ll hardly let the baby go

if it’s a girl, he’ll almost always come home with a brand new outfit for her – pretty and pink, usually

once the baby is older, he adopts a cat to grow up alongside the baby

it was a pretty impulsive decision tbh

but apparently your baby loves the cat, so everything turns out alright

by the next child, he’s much better at parenting

though he’ll always freak out at the slightest injury or illness that comes your children’s way, that’s a habit Inoo will probably never break lmao

Inoo as a dad joke:

Hikaru:

dad jokes

dad jokes

DAD JOKES

when you told him you were pregnant, he stared for a few moments before basically saying “Hello pregnant, I’m dad.”

it was then, you knew the next years would be a journey

whenever you two are relaxing at home, he’ll try to lay headphones on your stomach or play music on the stereo

“It makes the baby smarter, right?” honestly, you have a feeling he’s just playing around with you…

talks to the baby while you’re still pregnant, mostly jokingly but sometimes serious

“You listening, Baby Yaotome? We need you to be born healthy, okay?”

the baby seems to have a knack for ignoring the two of you, as they’ll never kick when either of you talk to them

more so, they’ll kick when you’re in the middle of talking or out of the house

they like to take you off guard

and take you off guard they do when they’re ready to come into the world prematurely

Baby Yaotome turns out to be ‘babies’ at the birth of triplets, though they need to be closely monitored because of the time of birth

luckily, their chance of survival was good; over 80%

once the babies were finally considered safe to take home, Hikaru didn’t think of how hard it would be to take care of triplets; but more so how happy he is that the babies survived

“Listen to me from now on, okay?” He told each of them once they were safe at home in their cribs

despite that, they all grow up to be rambunctious kids – energetic and rowdy

still, their father always seems to have a one up on them

trying to get away with having dessert before dinner? Hikaru’s hidden the sweets

attempting to sneak out to hang out with friends? Hikaru’s guessed the plan and is waiting in the living room

having trouble with school? Hikaru’s sensed their unease an offers to help

it’s nothing he hasn’t gone through before or empathized with

“Dad’s psychic.” you hear your kids joking around

but, no

he’s just afraid of losing his children in any way, especially after almost losing them once before

Hikaru as a dad joke:

Yuya:

though he accepted having children as a part of life, at least to him, Yuya was a bit afraid of fatherhood

okay, a LOT afraid

while you’re pregnant, things become a little awkward, but mostly on his end

“Uh…you want me to get you something while I’m out?” he poses the question from the doorway, on his way out for probably the 5th time this week?

and it was Wednesday…

your pregnancy was starting to feel a little lonely

if you let him know your feelings, he’ll sober up and take responsibility

if you don’t, however, he will come around eventually; spewing apologies about his previous behavior

in a way, he was trying to escape fatherhood before it began – not wanting to stop a life with just the two of you yet

but, in the process of doing that, he was distancing himself from you too

something he certainly didn’t want

and so, he’s there faithfully for the rest of the pregnancy

after the birth, he can’t imagine how he ever tried to avoid this bundle of joy and cuteness

still, he hardly knows how to take care of children; at least for more than a short time

so he makes up for by giving them the best he can; the best clothes, the best baby formula, and spoils them when they get older

despite being very giving monetary wise, he always puts his foot down if he feels the child is taking advantage of him or misbehaving

respectful of his kid’s boundaries and in return they respect him a lot

Yuya eventually grows into a good father, which goes unnoticed by him for a long while until someone brings it up

“Really? I’m just going by my gut, honestly.”

Yuya as a dad joke:

Yabu:

from the moment the pregnancy is announced, Yabu swears he’s ready for fatherhood

bring on TEN kids, he can handle ‘em

his confidence lasts until he’s waiting for the baby to born, sweating like he ran a marathon

that’s not just out of worry for a healthy birth

is nervous for the first few weeks, asking for your guidance on pretty much everything

as well as reading several books on parenting

wow, no amount of studying could’ve ever prepared him on this

eases into things pretty well, however, and taking care of his child seems like second nature

sings them to sleep now and then, you find nothing can sooth them better than Yabu’s voice

when he’s away and they won’t stop crying, you have to phone him late into the night just to sing over the phone

he buys the a teddy bear that can record voices and it’s been a savior for times when he can’t the phone

diligent in teaching them how to walk and talk from an early age, encouraging fast learning

actually tries to get them to do many activities as early as they can, even fun ones like bowling with a plastic ball and pins

the dad that shows up to all of his kid’s events, he doesn’t miss a beat

always there to help with homework and if neither of them know the answer, they’ll learn it together

lax on the rules now and then, but cross him too much then he has the worst disapproving gaze you can ever give

can be a scary dad when the house rules are disrespected, though never outright angry

his obvious disappointment is just so strong the feelings carry on to everyone in the household

can make the kids feel guilty af for acting out

seriously, don’t cross him

on a lighter note…

DAD JOKES 10X

even failed ones

“I used to be a prince you know.”

“Dad, no.”

“That makes you a prince/ss, right? You should act more like royalty.”

“Dad, you were an idol.”

“People thought of idols as royalty…Sort of.”

“Dad, no.”

he just wants to be funny around his kids…

Yabu as a dad joke: