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gyuswhore · 4 months

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Never Shall We Die (3; final)

«« Nothing is too outlandish when it’s a life of liberty on the line. »»

PAIRING: kwon soonyoung x reader

PLAYLIST: right here!

pirate lingo glossary (pls refer!)

SYNOPSIS: Deadliest pirate on the high seas or a damn fool? The stupid King and his men have snatched Hoshi's precious pirate ship with their too clean, too soft hands; grounds to question his own vices. Except, when he and his crew land in the quarters of a navy ship, revenge on their roster, they stumble across a princess in its gallows. Hoshi wonders if he's just struck gold, or if you'd become the final tread to his downfall.

GENRES: pirate!au, enemies to lovers, slowburn, angst, fluff, smut [minor dni], some pirates of the carribean vibes but ? idk

WORD COUNT [full fic]: 48.1k

Part 1: 17.07k | Part 2: 15.2k | Part 3 [final] : 15.8k

@highvern's out of context comment box: new fear unlocked: hoshi with explosives, victorian ankle moment, HATE HIM (need him carnally), hoshi covered in soapy water would distract me enough, strip for me pirate mingyu [hes litrally taking off his jacket], your honor hes a bitch, freaks!, mingyu crushes hoshi's head like a grape, WONWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, massive dick, the way i literally gasped like an old scandalized woman

masterlist

WARNINGS: slowburn, plot heavy, happy ending bc no angsty endings in this household, being taken hostage, knives, bombs, and guns, mentions of blood, mentions of SA (does not happen and it is not explicitly mentioned), alcohol, mentions of death (patricide), hoshi is ✨selectively moral✨but kind of moral nonetheless, side character death, [pls lmk if im missing something its alot] smut tags: hoshi loves thighs, corruption kink to the mAX, clit stimulation, oral (f. receiving), breast play, p in v sex (unprotected, 1800s contraception will make you prefer it but pls dont do this irl), making out

[AN]: final part oh my god if youve read the other parts up till now, THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE YOU i hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as i loved writing it, im really proud of this fic and im so happy so many of you have enjoyed it so far. @highvern betaing as always ty for not giving up on me. AS ALWAYS, PLS TELL ME YOUR THOTS IN THE RBS OR THE REPLIES OR SEND ME AN ASK LITERALLY WTV MUAH MUAH HAPPY READING <3

THIS IS THE NICEST PRISON Hoshi has ever been in, which was saying something, because he had been in quite a lot of prisons.

But it was uncomfortable nonetheless, six grown men tied up and shoved into a crouching space to be done with as the men that prowled above pleased.

Hoshi would be lying if he said he hadn’t had to restrain from pushing some of those sorry soldiers into the ice waters beyond the glaciers. He had resisted, the crew had resisted, but just enough to convince them of their unwillingness.

Hoshi had realised early on that there was no possible way of getting aboard Tigress without somehow climbing aboard the King’s boat first. The king wasn’t about to simply hand Hoshi’s ship over, and there was no indication that they'd wait till after nightfall to depart.

Hoshi also knew that the King would refuse to have him die so easily in the waters of the Green Islands, his pride depended on it. He imagines the man drawing up the specifics of the most gruesome execution the Kingdom would ever see. Hoshi was counting on it.

The bounds could’ve been broken out of and the locks somehow picked, but Hoshi also knew that he had to wait. Wait for you to find him first.

“What’s taking her so long?” Jun asks. He’d been the most anxious out of all, the shaking feet and restless moving making it clear.

“The bomb won’t…go off still strapped to her, will it?” Minghao asks and Hoshi isn’t quite sure he wants to know the answer.

“It shouldn’t. Not until she pulls the tab. But…”

“But?” Hoshi whips around. “Why is there a but? You were supposed to make sure there was no but!”

“Big bomb, more boom, less predictable!”

“Are you sure we can’t break out and look for her ourselves?” Mingyu grumbles, the most compromised with his longer limbs folded in uncomfortable positions.

“The minute they know we’re loose they’ll swarm her. There won’t be a way to get to her, not without fighting off every last bastard on this ship. They’ve taken our stuff too, we don’t stand a chance.”

They did, actually, stand a chance. But that was only if they were to break away and head straight for Tigress that was empty and standing right beside this very ship. But they couldn’t. Hoshi couldn’t. Not without taking you with him.

Nobody dares to suggest the easier route, and he doubts it’s just because of what he wants.

But panic was beginning to trickle into Hoshi’s veins anyway, the closed off brig refusing to give him any indication of the time of day.

The sun was only beginning to set when they were taken to the ship, and he knew they were near done for if they didn’t finish what they started before nightfall. He can’t tell how long it’s been, and it eats away at his insides.

Please be okay.

And then he hears it, the sound of a body hitting the floors with a loud thud, a chortle of air before it’s knocked out. He finds himself sitting up straighter, pressing his hands to bars of the prison, trying to peer out the narrow walkway that leads to the doors.

And then you appear in the lamplight, haphazard and ruffled up beyond measure.

The knife in your hand drips with blood, your shirt torn at the arms, your hands bloodied and bruised.

When Hoshi sees your face he almost doesn’t recognise you.

There’s angry blooming marks of red and purple all across your neck and collarbone, your eyes bloodshot and red, watering like you’d been swimming in salt water.

“Who did this?” he asks before anything else, watching you drop to your knees in front of the prison, unanswering as you fumbled with a giant ring of keys in your hand.

You jam each key into the lock, twisting it to no avail. Your hands are shaking.

The crew finally twist out of their loose bonds, Minghao lurching forward immediately, swatting your hands away. He picks out a few skinny pins from his boot, picking the rusty lock. Despite the strange angle, the bars creak open within seconds.

“There’s…There’s ropes hooked onto the ship on the main deck.”

Your voice sounds like you’re speaking through sandpaper, talking while struggling to emerge with the bomb you had.

Hoshi doesn’t know what to do when he crawls out of the space.

He’d had it all figured out in his head, what would happen in every possible outcome. You getting hurt wasn’t in any of his universal conclusions; especially not on this ship. They’d kill his crew, they might even kill the King with themselves, but you were meant to remain unscathed.

“Why–why do you look like that? What happened?” Nothing registers in his head, not even when Jun is pushing him out into the hall.

“Get up to the deck and get out across the lines!” Jun gruffs in his ears. “That bomb’s gonna go off with us still on here.”

He sees the canister that lies in the same prison they had just exited, he sees your mouth moving without sound. All he can think of are the distinct fingerprints around your throat and how it looked like somebody tried to kill you before they tried to kill him.

“Soonyoung,” he hears you say in a broken voice and that’s all it takes for him to snap out of it.

His crew is looking at him expectantly. He looks back at the door and sees the crumpled bodies of the prison guards.

So much for leaving quietly.

The minute Hoshi is out the door of the brig, he finds a chest next to the collapsed, bleeding soldiers. Kicking it open, he can only scoff as he finds the entire crew’s weapons in such close vicinity.

He feels better with his dagger at his hip, along with the rest of his knives that he slips into the loops. Even more so with the rest of his crew armed and ready.

“We know where the deck is.” He swallows, eyeing his crew’s weapons in their ready hands. He knew they’d agreed to ensure the clean sinking of the ship, but the fallen bodies on the floor were an ode to a different route they’d have to take. “Don’t hesitate if someone gets in your way.”

Taking cautious steps to the upper decks, he finds more bodies collapsed onto the floor, bleeding and unconscious. He opts to ask you the details later, wondering how you were able to take down all these guards by yourself.

It isn’t until they reach the stairs that lead to the main deck that he comes across a guard.

Before the witness can raise any alarm, Hoshi’s slamming the butt of his dagger into the side of his head, knocking him clean unconscious as he falls off the side of the short railing.

Clambering up the steps as quietly as possible, he raises a hand behind him to signal his crew to halt, peering into the main deck first.

The sun is still out, but low in the sky as it dips in the sky. There’s a few people on the deck, pacing and moving about in preparation for departure. Angling his gaze, he finds ropes suspended over the edge of the railing, parallel to the water.

He can’t see Tigress, but he knows that’s what the ropes are hooked on to.

“Jun,” he beckons. “How long till the bomb on the other ship goes off?”

The bomb Jun had planted in the first ship they had arrived in should be going off any time now, and Hoshi finds himself needing it to go off now.

Jun barely opened his mouth to reply when the ship shuddered.

For a moment, Hoshi thinks the bomb in the brigs had gone off, but when he finds the clambering of boots to one side of the ship, opposite to where the ropes tied to Tigress, he realises their surrogate ship had given its last gift to the crew.

The rest of the ship would be bounding to the main deck to inspect the noise soon, so he shoots a quick, “Hurry!” behind him before stepping onto the main deck.

The entire deck is occupied with the ship that lies a ways away across the expanse of sea, the beginnings that would soon lead the entire ship to be engulfed in flames. It’s tilting at a dangerous angle.

Hoshi stands as he uses the crew straight towards the ropes that lead to Tigress. Glancing, he finds Mingyu and Chan already hanging on the suspended ropes, making their way towards the empty deck of their ship.

Hoshi keeps his eyes on the occupied men on board, still staring at the lightshow that was their old ship. It isn’t until one of them turns, eyes towards the stairs that lead to the lower decks, that his eyes dart to the unfamiliar men on the deck.

“Fuck,” Hoshi curses, before lunging, grabbing the man by the shoulders and covering his mouth, dragging him wordlessly to the edge before throwing him off the ship and into the icy waters below.

“Go!” he hears you rasp brom behind him, ushering him to the ropes.

The crew is gone, Jun making the last jump to land on the deck. They’re running around, pulling ropes and fastening the sails to push the ship off into open waters as soon as possible.

There’s two ropes that tie the two ships together, and Hoshi ushers you onto one of them, pushing you to suspend yourself before he follows.

“There’s not enough time, go to the other one!” you tell him, pushing him to hold onto the other tattered rope.

Soonyoung eyes your state, “Are you sure you can—”

“Yes! I promise I can, please, before they cut both the ropes.”

So he trusts you, eyes straight ahead to the railing of his ship, gripping the rough, frayed rope to push himself towards the deck. His hands burn, but he finds himself moving ever closer to his final destination.

His hand grabs hold of the wooden railing of his Tigress at long last, pulling himself onto the deck of his beloved ship. Immediately whipping his head to his right, he tries to find you reaching the ship with him. The crew is preoccupied in attempting to get the ship ready for departure, he finds your form nowhere.

When he looks back, the rope he had climbed was gone, leaving gaping space in its absence. He trails the second rope, from the hook that had dug into the railing of Tigress’s wood, trailing it to the naval ship’s deck.

What he sees puts his heart in his throat.

You stand on the deck of your father’s ship, swarmed by now alert guards and soldiers who swarm you, yelling profanities and orders as they watch their prisoners get away right in front of them.

Hoshi watches as you lift your dagger, and cut the last rope that ties you together, free to fall and hit against the hull of his ship.

He calls out your name in what could only be described as a guttural scream.

His crew halts whatever it was they were doing, taking the steps to realise what had just happened.

Hoshi’s boot meets the top of the railing, ready to take the plunge into the water. He’d climb back up the ship and get you out. He doesn’t know what you were thinking, what he was thinking when he left you there, but he’d get you out.

Arms pulling him, he’s yanked back and positively thrown onto the deck.

“What is wrong with you?” Minghao yells, pushing his captain back as he springs up.

“She—”

Your father emerges from the crowd of guards and soldiers that run rampant on the deck, approaching you at the railing of the main deck.

Hoshi sees the hand that remains on his shoulder, the blood that covers the still bleeding wound, the effort it takes him to simply walk.

The bruises on your neck, the wound at his shoulder that looks like it was slashed through by a knife.

And then it clicks in Hoshi’s head, what had truly happened in the hours that you were out of his sight. And all he sees is red.

WITH THE WAY THE words on the pages seem to double, you would’ve thought you were going mad.

You’re a child, barely grown into your own body as you sit in the dimly lit library of the palace, utterly exhausted, wishing to be anywhere but sitting at the wooden desk with your name on it. The moon barely shone through the window, your only source of light the fireplace that burned in the corner and your lamplight.

It was a time where you felt like you could prove yourself, that perhaps, the reason your father refused you his approval was because you were simply not working hard enough. And now, at an hour where you should be fast asleep in your four poster bed, you attempt to understand diplomatic structures and everything that made your country what it was.

It was late, and there was nothing you would’ve liked more than to put your head on the table and rest your eyes for a few tantalising seconds, which you do, right over the book you were reading.

You awoke in the same place, shaken awake by a panicked looking servant, the sun shining through the great windows of the palace library.

It seems your disappearance from your bedchambers had put the entire palace in disarray, not realising the princess was fast asleep behind the giant pile of books other servants had already skimmed past thrice.

Not only were you unable to recite the rankings of the constitutions with the vigour your father required, but you were unable to give him a reason as to why you were absent for both breakfast and morning lessons.

He made the servants kneel in the throne room for hours, and did not fail to tell you that it was all your fault.

And now, in the ice cold of the Green Islands, old and wise enough to know that your father simply needed a reason to despise his heir, you accept the hands around your throat as his final act of terror.

Red faced and arms shaking, your father does not speak to you as he presses down on your windpipe with all his might. Your vision is going dark and splotchy, and you decide, for a moment, to let him have this moment.

He’s too preoccupied in applying his pressure to realise that you’ve raised your right foot enough for your hands to fish out your knife from its place, taking positivity in the handle of your knife that fits in your hand.

Before you can lose consciousness, you raise your arm high, and plunge it directly into his neck.

Howling, he releases you from his hold, both of you dropping to the floor of the ship with a resonating thud. You cough, sputter and hack, cold hands finding your now warm neck.

Your father lays clutching his shoulder as he remains in agony on the floor, and you realise you missed the crucial plunge in your own disarray.

It was good enough, rendering the old man incapable of finding his bearings.

You watch as he writhes on the floor of the quarters that almost became your figurative deathbed, the same hands that wrapped around his own daughter’s throat now clutching the shallow wound that renders him useless.

Standing over him, throwing your own shadow on his body, you feel a surge of power, a rush of adrenaline that shoots straight to your head. Perhaps this was your circulation returning from the deprivation, but you let the feeling imprint in your soul, let your father’s broken figure bring you satisfaction.

You leave him there, writhing in pain, digging your knife under the lock of the quarters, pulling back to break it away from the door. The guards stationed outside do nothing as you leave, and it isn’t until you’ve taken to lower decks that you hear the distinct yell of, “Your Majesty!”

Two more guards, who don’t expect an altercation from their princess, simply buffer as you send your knife plunging into them both. You do it deep this time.

Nobody was innocent, you knew these people as your father’s closest men, and knew that all of them were to remain silent as their King murdered his daughter. And when the remorse doesn’t do that thing where it trickles in after doing a bad thing, you decide you weren’t part of the innocents either.

It’s easier than you would’ve expected to get to the crew in the brig, letting out a sigh of relief as you appreciate the familiarity of people on your side.

And when Hoshi took his place to guide everyone out and into the open space of the main deck, you let your racing mind rest and decide to trust the man in whatever decision he made to lead you all out. And he did, he led himself and his crew right into the ship that was theirs, safe and where they would have the upper hand.

Hoshi didn’t know it when he climbed onto the ropes that lead to his boat that he wouldn’t have made it if you hadn’t stayed, hadn’t used your voice of authority to keep the soldiers from attempting to shoot at the escapees, cut the rope while Hoshi remained suspended from it, still only halfway there.

You didn’t look at him when you sliced both ropes before either party could pull back, didn’t register him screaming your name across the void, pretending it wasn’t taking everything out of your strength.

But you couldn’t jump into the water, not now when a dozen of the royal guards remained ready to take the plunge to save their princess as their duty. The same guards that would comply with their king when told the princess was dead for reasons they all knew but were to forget.

The bomb had to go off first, and you had to keep them away from hooking another line to the ship in the meantime. You were operating on a flawed plan and an overenthusiastic crowd of guards that were moments away from shooting a canon straight into the side of the disconnected pirate ship.

The distraction comes in the form of your father parting the crowd of soldiers like the red sea, swatting every soldier that attempts to help his bleeding form for anything it was worth. He approaches you at the railing, and for once, you don’t look at the ground in his presence.

“Bold,” he heaves, the effort in his voice apparent. “Bold of you to think you could slip away.”

“I haven’t tried to slip away, father,” you correct. “I’ve stayed right here, even after you failed to kill me. And I, you.”

“Nobody is going to listen to you, child. Give in. This is the easy way out,” he says.

As if on cue, Jun’s bomb goes off for the second time, but this time the ship shudders with more force. It has your father unbalance and fall, along with multiple other soldier’s stumbling. You grip the railing tight, counting on your father’s need to live.

Despite your horrid throat and the ache in your body, you announce as loud as you can. “The bomb is in the brig, this ship is sinking.”

The fallen king trembles in a rage you had never quite seen before. Any other time of your life, you would’ve wished for the ground to swallow you whole to be the subject of such anger.

Except, in the setting sun, a burning ship in the background, a pirate ship that awaits you, and the ground beneath your feet that was actively sinking into the freezing water; you smile at your doomed King.

“Get to the brig! Secure the lower decks, do not let this ship sink or so help me God!” His voice rings across the deck, spittle blowing from his mouth at the situation.

And just like that, your father gives you the final gift of clearing the main deck out for you, leaving but a few straggling soldiers that are too preoccupied with either the sinking ship or their bleeding sovereign.

Looking back, you find the crew of Tigress standing at the railing, you find Hoshi already half over the edge and send him a slow nod.

Turning back to your father that remains on the floor of the ship that would become his coffin, you utter your next words; for yourself, and the girl that was every second before this, all the way to her first ever memory of sad:

“You’ve taught me to be a ruler fit to be the best for our Kingdom. Consider your death my first act of service for the Crown.”

And then you jumped into the darkening void of the waters below.

THE COLD FEELS LIKE every nerve in your body ceased to work.

It was nothing at first, the temperature so intense it had your body numb in the face of shock. And then it grew, to a striking cold, and then a feeling that pricked every inch of your skin like a million needles plunging into your body. It was only getting worse with each passing second, before it was so painful it was hot, going from cold to searing and blistering like you’d plunged into the licks of flames.

Nowhere in your body did you find a rational sense of mind, something to tell you to kick, flail or float. The warped sky was an orange through the green, only more vibrant. Like there were two ships actively burning on the surface of this water.

Hoshi’s face appears behind your closing eyelids, like a mirage or a taunt. Like he was there with you when he wasn’t.

Would he come for you? Would he take the plunge for the girl he held in his arms, promising her something to fill the gap of a companion, right before she killed her own?

You’d given him what he wanted; your father, his worst enemy, dying as he sank slowly into the bottom of the ocean. You’d run your course of use, and if he was as smart as people claimed, he’d leave you to suffer the same fate as your father.

He could find his freedom elsewhere.

And you would find your freedom in the close of your eyes, and the sinking feeling of nothingness.

Except, you feel a hardness against your body, stronger even than the current of the waters. Moving impossibly upwards, you remember opening your eyes to find a leather cord suspended in the float of the water, before you remember nothing.

THE GREEN ISLANDS WERE on fire.

But as unnatural as it seemed, Hoshi had no inclination to register anything but the way the ship in front of him tilts so far out it's already half submerged in the waters. He’d assumed they might have to ready the cannons, but with the way debris and hollowed wood floats in the waters below, they would not need to.

The King was about to be introduced to Davy Jones’ Locker at the hands of his enemy and successor, but Hoshi could not care enough right now to relish in it.

Right now, he stares at the direct circumference of water your body had made contact with and disappeared into, like the world would explode if he lost his place.

“Should I jump as well?” Mingyu asks, already half taking his boots off. However, when the man turns to find his captain gone, he lurches over the railing to find his captain diving into the water through all the debris.

Hoshi lets the momentum of his dive take him as further down as possible, whipping his head around as soon as his eyes open into the abyss. The water ripples and erupts in showers of bubbles as broken pieces of ship come apart to fall into the water. It blurs his vision immensely, any ripple that could be you in the water coming out to be yet another piece of wasted wood.

The deeper he goes, the more the water presses into his ears. He was a good swimmer, good at holding his breath when needed, but even he had limits.

When he cannot see any sign of you, he begins to feel the churning of something skin to panic brew. Panic was never good, not this deep in the water.

Twisting and turning, flailing about in place, moving dangerously closer to the burning ship that continued to drop flaming bits of killing slabs, he finds no sign of you in the water.

Instead, he watches men in uniform sink deeper and deeper in their failed attempts to stay afloat.

All he can think about is if they were losing the battle for air, then so were you, somewhere deeper in the void than he was. He prays that he’s looking aimlessly, that you’ve already somehow made your way to the surface by yourself, and you were safe on the deck.

The beaded bracelet that remained on his wrist, but belonged to you.

“A reason for you to come out of this alive.”

Even without the encasing on his wrist, you had given him more than enough reason to want to come out of this alive, to want to live beyond just for himself and his duty to the crew he’d taken in.

He chose the life of a pirate because it was his only out, and every member of his crew that he recruited in succession, he acted as the hand he had needed so desperately in that awful brothel where his mother despised him and his father, a faceless man of Port Ash.

Amphitrite was not kind, it was a lesson he learned quickly in his first ventures out at sea. So he too, had to learn to be unkind, to survive in the horrid bellies of ships that weren’t his own. And when Tigress came into his life like a vessel of hope, he found a home in her merciful wood, in the ship that he could call his very own.

Hoshi lived as a free man on his ship, with his crew that had become his brothers in ways beyond what the thick of blood could offer. He did not care if he lived or died after that, as long as it was on his ship, in the waters that held no quarter for anyone, but gave him everything that nothing else could give him.

And so when you approached him with a proposal so bizarre yet so apt for a man like him, he could not refuse. It may have been the way he saw himself in you, terrified of the prospects but thirsting for an escape more than the fear that came with it.

Besides, the king was a nuisance that needed to go, and he found himself agreeing to play the hand too complicated for you.

What he did not expect was to end up here, in the depths of the ocean in the most uninhabitable part of the earth, trying to pull you out of the cold, unrelenting sea.

Hoshi realises in that moment that this might ruin him, the possibility of breaking the surface without you.

He decides that if the heavens do not let him find you, he would simply drown in the same waters that gave him purpose, and find peace with the idea that he would lay rest in the same waters as the person who might have given him something more.

Kwon Soonyoung, the deadliest pirate to cleave the seas, was in love with you. A princess, so undeserving of a man like him; a bastard, a rogue, a good for nothing criminal.

And when he spots the all too familiar build of your form, the linen shirt under the corset he had tied for you just hours ago, the dark brown trousers that signified the change he’d brought into your life, he swore to leave everything he’d ever known to thank the skies and seas for bringing him to you.

His burning lungs, screaming and searing for air, grabbing for your suspended arm that looked as defeated as your closed eyes. Tugging you towards him, he wraps his arm around you to press you to him as tight as he could.

Relief. And with the warm sting in his eyes that he doubted was from the salt in the water, he’s sure of everything he’s felt with the feeling of you in his arms.

With the bruising on your neck, the bleeding wound in your father’s shoulder, he finds it within his breaking body to begin kicking upwards.

Every limb, every cell, every hint of life in his body shrieked with its efforts to make him stop. There was no air in his lungs and he’d lost track of time in his search for you, he doesn’t know how long he has.

But if the blots of nothingness in his eyes were anything to go with, he doesn’t presume he has much. In a last ditch effort, he attempts to kick his boots off to weigh him down a little less, holding your dead weight tighter than anything.

He was so close, he could feel the warmth of the upper levels of the water change in its temperature on his skin. The glow was near blinding as the orange refracted on the disrupted surface of the ocean, so close yet so far.

Inch by inch, kick by kick, memory by memory, he does everything left in his drained power to touch the surface.

And he does, breaking out hand first into the burning air of the world above, taking the longest gasp of air he ever has in his life. Once he’s sure he knows where he is, he pushes you up further on his chest, your head resting against his collarbone, still unconscious.

“Stay with me, princess,” he pants into your ear, hoping you could hear. “I’ve got you.”

Chan and Mingyu are in the water beside him, pushing him towards the pulley that awaited them.

Mingyu makes an attempt to take your weight of his already struggling captain, but Hoshi finds himself holding on to you tighter, simply urging him to help him back on the deck.

The minute your head hits the wood of the deck, he’s checking your pulse. There’s no regard for the chaos that ensues around Tigress, both him and his crew too preoccupied with the way you were not breathing.

“I–I can’t feel anything,” he stutters his words as Seungkwan places a less panicked hand at your neck, under your nose.

“It’s weak, she’s taken in too much water.”

In an instant, he reaches for his knife at his hip, only to realise it was gone, lost somewhere in his rescue.

“Knife,” he rasps before repeating louder. “Someone give me a knife!”

The minute a hilt is in his hands, he’s pushing you over, to reach the back of your constricting corset, pushing his knife into the complicated sailing knot he’d tied it into before, breaking it free. With both hands, he takes hold of the top of the corset and rips it clean in half.

Turning you back over, he presses his hands over your clothed stomach, pushing into it with all his strength in an attempt to get the water out of your system. He keeps his eyes on your face, and when he sees no sign of you coming round, he feels another set of hands pushing him off.

Seungkwan takes over for his weakened captain, pushing into your stomach harder, attempting to get a break out of you.

“Why isn’t she coming around, what’s going on?” He throws the question aimlessly as he takes your unmoving face in his hands, trembling from everything.

Only a moment later, he hears the glorious sound of you sputtering like something was stuck in your throat, promptly spilling out an ungodly amount of water onto the deck as you retch loudly.

Sitting up from the force, your hands clamp onto the deck as you cough and heave, Hoshi’s hand coming behind you to thump your back hard, pushing you to throw up any remaining seawater from your body.

The sight of your back moving up and down, the audible sound of you taking in air; it was enough for Hoshi to simply lay on the deck and pass out.

You rear your head and look up at him, both of you still breathing heavily.

“You’re okay,” he assures, gulping. He takes your face in hands cupping it very gently as he speaks to you. “Go with Seungkwan, you’re okay, you’re safe.”

Nodding, you let yourself be helped up by the rest of the crew, watching as you’re led to the lower decks of the ship.

“Open your shirt, let me see the wound,” Mingyu says, and Hoshi doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Looking down, he sees his shirt soaked in red, sticking to a wound on the right side of his torso. He didn’t even know where he got it.

It looks like a shallow gash, but enough to leave a scar. He takes it better to have it tended to while he was still high on adrenaline and he couldn’t feel much of the pain.

By the time Mingyu and Minghao are done cleaning him up and Hoshi’s standing upright with wobbly legs, he finds the two burning ships beyond his own mere floating structures of wood that were in slow flame. There’s too much debris, too many bits of everything that bob in the large expanse of water to make out any bodies.

“There’s nobody,” Mingyu tells him. “Most of them were in lower decks when it all went down. Trapped themselves.”

“And…?” he asks in silence.

“He stayed on the deck until it sank,” Minghao informs. “Yelling about how he…about how he should’ve finished her when he had the chance.”

“Horrible king and somehow an even worse father,” Mingyu scoffs. “Made it better to watch him die.”

“He didn’t suffer enough,” Hoshi croaks as the marks on your throat dot his vision.

Just then, floating in the water, illuminated by the final streaks of setting light, Hoshi sees it. A darkened purple cloth right next to the hull.

“That,” he points out. “Get that out of the water.”

The late king’s purple cape laid on the deck of Tigress, darkened with water, but also with his blood.

To the Kingdom, this cape would be the last piece of their King that was gone too soon. But for every person on this ship, it would forever be their spoils of war.

Hoshi makes sure the cape will be dried and stored, ordering his crew to begin their slow journey out of the Green Islands, before he too crumples onto the deck unconscious.

IT WAS A SPECTACLE to see Hoshi in his element.

Something about how he seemed to beam, like this ship was charging him a different kind of energy. It was infectious, the rest of the ship decreasingly sour as they put on musical performances on the main deck while they cleaned the floors.

As relieved as you felt, the tight ball of anxiety refused to leave the pit of your stomach as you grew closer to the Kingdom. Nothing could prepare you for the shitstorm you’d have to deal with the moment you’d step onto the soil off a pirate ship of all things—let alone as Queen.

The first few days following the ship's exit from the Green Islands were difficult, if that was all you had to describe it. You took to your hammock for most of the day, curled up as you pretended to sleep, only waking up when one of the crew would come down to force feed you and to make sure you hadn’t died.

You knew they were doing all this to make you feel better, and somehow it was working. More than halfway through your journey, you began to feel more like yourself, emerging from your cave to visit the deck on times other than the nights.

Even now, as you sit on the floor of the deck with Seungkwan, who hands you an all too familiar stack of parchment, you feel nothing as you take them into your hands. As you read his handwriting scrawled in ink, you appreciate your past self for having the sense to keep them all.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better now,” he says to you. “Had us worried for a while there.”

“Sorry.” You smile weakly. “But thank you for…everything. I don’t think I could ever express how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. All of you.”

“I’d like to think we’ve gone past the status of mere business partners,” Seungkwan chuckles. “Lion befriends the bear? Whatever it is. But know we’d do it again.”

Blinking back the sting of tears and doing your very best to not let the warm feeling in your chest overwhelm you, you place the letters on the floor next to your folded legs. When you look up, Seungkwan's eyes are on your neck.

“They’re taking their time to fade, aren’t they?” you say.

Seungkwan has a hard look in his eye, “I guess you didn’t need your letters to remind you of anything after all.”

Your mind wanders, drifting past how easily this crew could have been forgotten in the unforgiving elements. Perhaps you would have let the man that wrapped his hands around your neck finish his job.

“Was getting captured part of your grand plan?” you ask Seungkwan.

“Hm?” It takes a moment to realise what you may be questioning him about, smiling slightly. “What makes you think we went in with a plan?”

“I thought I asked you to man the wheel?” Hoshi stands above the both of you.

“Not to batten down the hatches,” he side-eyed his captain. “Clear waters ahead, the wheel does not need manning.”

You zone out as they squabble over nothing, not finding the heart to be entertained by their back and forth. Seungkwan either loses or forfeits, because you feel him rise from next to you, only for his captain to take his place.

“What are you thinking about?” Hoshi asks.

“Everything,” you sigh.

“How come Seungkwan gets a thank you for your service and I don’t? Need I remind you who jumped for you and who didn’t?”

Rolling your eyes, you answer him, “Thank you, Captain Hoshi Kwon, I am forever indebted to your service.”

He chuckles in exaggeration, “Oh please, all in a day's work.”

“I mean it.”

“Hm?”

“I never did say thank you. But you did jump for me when you didn��t have to.”

“Who said I didn’t have to?”

“Our deal was done.”

“Of course not,” he scoffs. “Our deal was to get you out when you jumped. I merely honoured that promise!”

“Merely?” you raise a brow. “Was it all merely a matter of conscience?”

His gaze locks with yours. “Don’t ask questions you know the answers for. I would’ve jumped even if you asked me to rope myself to the mast.”

“Please. I have enough blood on my hands and I haven’t even sat on my throne yet.”

“Blood is only on your hands if you tell a soul of what you’ve done,” Hoshi utters. “You’re the only living soul who knows.”

“And you are…?”

“Pirate. Our word means nothing.” Hoshi smiles.

The thought hangs in the air as you take in the man in front of you. He’s changed an era’s worth, yet all the same. His hair is longer, going from his initial shorter crop to curling around his ears, shielding his eyes. It makes him look younger, like a boy with much to live for.

That, and the multitude of notable scars he’s added to his collection, many of which have somehow been because of you. The wound at his torso is doing better, but far to go in its quest to heal.

Hoshi senses something amiss even after his sermon. Breaking his gaze, he turns to look straight ahead at the raised bow of the ship instead.

“Do you know how I got my splendid reputation for being the filthiest pirate on the seas?”

You can only stare, “I have a few guesses.”

He chortles, “Other than my criminal status.”

“Tell me.”

“Unnamed sailors have the odds of a peanut facing its inevitable fate of being crushed under a straggling boot. Pirates don’t see the government as their enemy when they’re own supposed brothers are more likely to jam a cannon in their mouths.”

He lets out a heavy sigh before continuing, “My mistake wasn’t that I was on the losing side in my early days, but more about how I was leaving nothing behind when I was done.”

“How humble,” you hum.

“Dead men tell no tales. When it’s worth it, it might be better to leave a straggler or two to live to tell the tale. A routine stab in the jugular can turn you into somewhat of a myth.”

“Am I a survivor?” you question.

“You may be sovereign on land, but you’re also an unnamed pirate,” he responds, turning back to lock eyes with you. “And you’ve left nobody to tell the tale.”

No one listens to a pirate, and everyone listens to a Queen.

“This isn’t to say there won’t be a legend that follows you.” He quirks a brow as he speaks. “Shows up and claims her father and his entire ship and crew sank at sea, only to befriend his sworn enemies in the aftermath. And then it evolves; she sent a cannon through her fathers ship, he died at the end of his own daughter's sword, she cursed him to captain a crew of the undead for eternity.”

“Have I planted the seeds for yet another ghost story?” It’s difficult to not giggle at the thought, despite how morbid.

“You’ve given yourself substance,” he says, a little stronger than before. His eyes too, wander to your neck and the bruises that refuse to budge. “Beyond just a royal or even a pirate. You did it for your honour as a human being, and that may be braver than anything I have ever conquered.”

In your anxiety ridden, feeble mind, your thoughts had convinced your conscience that everything would be over the minute your father’s heart stopped beating. That it would bring you peace at last.

And it did, especially when it felt like you’d gotten rid of this constant monster under the bed that had followed you far into adulthood. But from the bleeding heart of the creature emerged yet another one of its brethren, and then another and then another.

Smaller albeit, but monsters nonetheless. Problems nonetheless.

Weeks of this, and in one short interaction, Hoshi seemed to have given you the key to turn this monster into a pet.

On instinct, you feel your hand reach up, brushing against the skin of his cheek. It’s an all too familiar setting, seated on the deck of a ship too close for anybody but yours’ comfort. But without the rum and resentment, of course. And how you doubt he’d pull away this time.

Very lightly, you brush your lips against his. It was nothing but to simply feel him again, to feel a semblance of familiarity.

You feel him take your hand that rests on his cheek to place a kiss on your palm, nuzzling his nose into the concave of your hand.

Everything that was to come seemed a little more possible in that very moment.

Even more so when his fingers found the sensitive areas of your coloured throat, when his lips closed against your jaw, only to trail lower and to press into the marks his fingers continue to trail tucked into your neck.

That night, when slipping into your hammock felt like the most unbearable prospect in your near future, it couldn’t possibly be worse than uttering your next question to the man that seems to fix it all.

“Will you stay with me?”

With nothing but the light snores of the rest of the crew and the creaking of the ship, both you and Soonyoung laid in a hammock most definitely not meant for two. Head on his chest, ear pressed against where his heart beats under his scar, it’s bliss.

The feeling of his warm body against yours and the scent of him settling in your lungs, you decide that this was enough. At least for now.

IT WAS DIFFICULT TO give yourself the full list for obvious reasons, but it does seem to help when you tick off all the possible reasons why your patience has run as thin as it has.

Sitting at the decorated seat at the convened court of old men appointed by your father, you briefly wonder if you should finish them off too amidst your flash of anger. The men continue to squabble and babble about the next course of action, slamming their wrinkled hands on the pristine table and sending their own daggers of threats to the other inhabitants of the table.

“If you’d like to send a search party for the King’s body, be my guest,” you finally speak, having had quite enough when the throb in your temple worsens. “But remind me what troops you’ll be sending to the North if your best men will be gone for months attempting to find a body they never will.”

The dispute in the North side of the Kingdom was taking up most of the conversation anyway, and you doubt they’d put customary burial rites over their own glory of victory the North would bring.

“Your Majesty—”

“I would happily jump on the next search ship for my father,” you lie through your teeth. “But I watched him drown in front of my own two eyes, and as the next sovereign I cannot let you waste our resources for something that will both risk our soldier’s lives and have them come back home empty handed.”

Perhaps you had come off slightly more heartless than you intended, so you quickly add, “Please, let my father rest in peace.”

That seems to end the conversation easier than you had expected, but they’re quick to jump to the next issue not long after.

“The court would also like to bring light upon the palace guests.”

Tightening your jaw, you slump against your seat slightly. “What about them?”

They remain silent as their mouthpiece attempts to form the right words for the following question, mostly because you’ve addressed this multiple times beforehand but they continue to sit restless.

“Allow me to help you, Lord Bridge,” you sit up straighter, intending to put this matter to rest. “My guests will remain here for as long as they do, and if you have any more arising issues towards my guests I will only take it as your collective issues towards me.”

In the moment of silence, you continue, “The Kingdom is in a place of instability as we are all well aware. I find it most appalling that you remain fixated on trivial matters of the palace’s domestic code of conduct than you do for the wellbeing of this country!”

Silence yet again as you wait for their forcibly rehearsed chorus of apologies.

“Our greatest apologies, your Majesty.”

The pain in your temples becomes near unbearable as you dismiss the table after that, screeching your chair as you push it back as loud as you possibly can to do nothing but spite the men.

Turning the corner out of the room, you catch the open gates that lead to the paved gardens outside, the sun seeping into the marble floors indoors. Taking an instinctive step towards the gardens, you find most of the crew sprawled onto the grass as they soak in the sun.

Chan and Seungkwan look like they’re wrestling, their laughter ringing throughout the open court while their captain snaps at them to cut it out, only to get roped under one of their headlocks all the same.

There’s a call of your name and a giant wave from Mingyu, who spots you from beyond the flower beds. Still leaning against the gates, you smile and wave back.

Years the halls of the palace had gone, never hearing laughter in its walls. And something about watching them let themselves ruin the petunias and laugh so loud it echoes, heals you just a bit.

Even that night, when you find yourself in your giant four poster bed you’ve slept in since you were a child, this time dozing under the arm of another, you feel the itch of a healing wound somewhere in your heart.

Soonyoung laid with you for every night on the ship since that night, and stayed even here where the space was big enough to host the ghosts of your worries if not distracted.

He had found you on that first night in the palace still awake, haunting the library fireplace with another stack of papers to keep you company.

“Can’t sleep?” he’d asked as he picked up some of your documents.

“Clearly not,” you huff. The papers were mere decorations as you attempted to find an excuse to leave your rooms.

“You realise you won’t be much of an effective monarch if you exhaust yourself to death?”

There was no answer to that, especially when you were absorbing nothing of your new duties. You’d expected to fall asleep on the armrest of the uncomfortable settee whenever it was that you exhausted your brain of thoughts, even then refusing to sleep in that large bed.

He’s awfully persuasive, because as he tucks you into those very sheets, about to leave but not before placing a kiss on your forehead You stop him.

“Stay. Please.”

True as he has always been, he does.

THE CROWN IS HEAVIER than you had expected, even more so when it remains on your head for longer than your previously practised sessions walking around the throne room. The crew was exceptionally good at giving you things to train with, including fraudulent rodent scares to ensure the crown would not topple from your own head the minute you rise from your coronation.

And now, as you finally remove the decorative piece from your head after your actual coronation to replace it with something lighter for the following ball, you find relief in the fact that you’d only ever have to wear the actual thing only a few times in your life.

Everything moves as smoothly as it could, the decorated pirates that saved their Queen from a horrid shipwreck taking up most of the attendees attention as they either question inquisitively or send snarky remarks to the men who are well versed in how to rebut in true informal manner.

The past months had taken up more of your time than you had anticipated, and during the latter half of the still twinkling party, you attempted to spot the person you’ve been trying to corner all night.

Soonyoung stands at the edges of the gathering, empty handed as you watch him reject yet another offer for a drink from the trays that float about. His attire is the most formal you had ever seen, his face scrubbed and hair pushed back for the glorious occasion.

Approaching him from the sidelines, you take hold of his wrists and pull him towards one of the many doors in the ballroom and into a hallway you knew for a fact was rarely ever frequented.

“I feel I haven’t seen you ages,” you say once you’re sure you’re alone.

“Probably best for you to keep busy,” he replies with the smallest smile.

“Have the wrappings on your wound come off?”

Looking at his covered torso, he runs an instinctive hand over where the wound was. “Just a smaller patch now, but it’s nearly there. Disappointed it won’t scar too much.”

“Disappointed?”

“These are my spoils of war, miss princess,” he adds with a smirk, before correcting himself. “Ah, miss queen?”

“Doesn’t have the same ring,” you comment.

“The crown suits you.” His voice is soft and sincere.

Scoffing a little, you answer, “I would hope it did.”

“Although, I do prefer you in trousers and a knife.”

Laughing, you can only agree. Especially in your heavier than yourself dress and jewels. “I think I prefer them too.”

At the mention of your new status, he asks, “Shouldn’t you be milling between your new subjects?”

Keeping your eyes on his face, you wait until he meets your gaze. “I have more important things to attend to.”

He breaks eye contact first, and you can feel the distance grow further. One reach and you could take his hand in yours.

But you don’t.

“I know I’ve been quite busy, but…” you trail off as you attempt to find the words. “Is something the matter? What’s going on?”

With a long sigh, he runs a hand through his kept hair, effectively tousling it a little. “I was going to wait until after the ball to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

He makes no moves to look at you when he utters his next words. “The crew and I will be leaving at dawn tomorrow. We’ve taken up enough of your space and it’s best if we don’t intrude any further.”

It’s like you’ve taken a blow to the chest, the air knocked out of your lungs as you register what he’s just said. “You’re….you’re leaving?”

“I would think we’ve both gotten what we wanted. We had a deal.”

Deal? Why was he mentioning that now?

“Are you going to abandon me too?”

His head snaps up to finally meet your eye, mouth opening closing as words betray him.

“What happened to what you said about gaining you? All of you?” There’s a blatant accusation in your words.

“And you have! We’ll visit. Assuming the state doesn’t want my head on a pike anymore,” he chuckles uncomfortably.

In a moment of desperation, you take his hand in both of yours; his scarred, gnarled hands that tell you even in the dark who’s warmth it is that you feel every night next to you.

“Stay. Stay with me, please,” you plead. “I can’t live in this place alone, I despised it when I was young and I’ll only despise it even more now.”

Soonyoung brings his other hand to clasp over both of your own, eyes closing as you hear him take a somewhat shaky breath. “I’m doing this for the both of us.”

“So am I! I can’t possibly rule a kingdom by myself.”

“I’m sure you’ll find someone—”

“I don’t want someone! I want you!”

He begins to whisper your name, moving his face away to blink rapidly.

“How do you feel about becoming a pirate king? I can never forbid you from the waters, that’s your home, and you will have it.”

He does not look at you, but you know he’s listening more intently than ever before.

“But I ask you as someone who loves you more than I have ever anything else, will you stay and marry me?”

Soonyoung falters as he absorbs the fact that you’ve just proposed to him.

“I—” he stutters. “The court—”

“The court wouldn’t dare to deny me the man that saved my life.”

You squeeze his hand tighter, moving impossibly closer.

“And even if they do, I'm ready to fight for the man who fought for me. So answer me as a man and not a pirate, Kwon Soonyoung, will you marry me?”

Soonyoungs mouth enclosing over your own is all the answer you need as you feel him break free of your hands to let them find your waist instead. Amidst the pile of fabric he pushes himself into you as close as possible, letting your hands guide his head to move against your mouth.

It’s everything, as you grip onto the back of his shoulder, pressing unforgettably into his open mouth. He takes in your bottom lip between his own, sucking before letting go, only to engulf your mouth once again.

“We’ll figure it out,” you whisper against his lips, feeling the nuzzle of his nose against the apple of your cheek, hot tears spilling from your eyes. “I promise, we’ll figure everything out.”

He shushes you when he feels you shudder in his hold, pulling away to rest his forehead against yours. “No need to torment your pretty head. Not right now.”

For once, you listen to your pirate captain without a fight, simply feeling the stretch of your lips as he moves down to capture them once more.

The pressure of his hands isn’t nearly as strong as it would’ve felt without the layers upon layers of fabric that cover your form, but standing in this desolate hallway, you swear his fingers might as well be caressing your bare skin underneath.

The thought sends your mind into a dazzling spin, letting go of his mouth with a gasp, suddenly needing to take a step back.

“I have to—I have to go back inside,” you breathe into his slick mouth. “Meet me outside my quarters at midnight.”

As scandalous as it was, you could not deny how alive it made you feel to be like this, meeting in darker corners in the dead of night. But for now, you allow him to fix the bits of your ensemble you could not see. With the bad of his thumb, he blends in the smudges of your rouge, swiping at your lips ever so delicately to ensure he leaves no trace of himself. Tucking the loose strands of hair back behind your ears, and finally, fixing the encrusted crown on your head, a flash of one of the diamond’s gleams reflecting onto his perfect face.

“You’re beautiful.” There’s a dazed look that graces him. “Beyond beautiful.”

With one last innocent press of your smiling mouth onto his, you promise him your midnight.

BY THE TIME IT was finally an appropriate hour for you to excuse yourself for the evening, you were near to exploding entirely.

Whispers of “Are you alright, your Majesty?” plaguing you through your already racing mind. It was beyond difficult to keep the constant shaking of your foot unobvious, however you could not simply up and leave whenever you wanted—at least not yet. The monarch would remain in an unstable authoritative position for quite some time after ascension, and with the unorthodox situation at hand, you assume you’d really have to push yourself if you were to be of any use as sovereign.

But when the time finally came and you were escorted out of the grand ballroom, only mere ticks away from the resounding bells of midnight, you were holding back from breaking into a sprint. Outside your quarters it was empty, but you remain steadfast in your refusal for your ladies in waiting tonight, promising you could dress yourself for bed on your own.

Standing at the double doors of your rooms, still the princess’ quarters as you refuse to move into the Queen’s rooms, you stand waiting. The two guards remain staring straight ahead, and you wait for the clicking of your ladies to go muffled before you ask.

“Has the Captain approached?”

“No, your Majesty.”

You try not to feel disappointed, despite knowing the midnight bells were yet to sound. “If he does, allow him in, please.”

Opening the double doors, you half wish you had let your ladies help you out of the god awful dress, tight and loose in all the wrong places. The jewels are thrown haphazardly on your vanity, needing the heavyweight of them off of your body.

Perhaps months of little to no bedazzling had rendered you incapable of wearing anything mildly less comfortable than linen and leather, but you suppose you’d slip back into the habit just as easily as you slipped out of it. Your nightgown feels like heaven on your tired, tired body, and the dimly lit interior of your bedchamber is only encouraging you to slip under your covers and fall deep into sleep.

That was one thing about the ship you doubt you’d ever miss.

Three rapt knocks outside of the heavy double doors have you sitting rapt at attention, hastily making your way to the door from your vanity. Pressing the front of your nightgown down, you open the door slightly and poke your head out.

Soonyoung stands at the door, nervous of all things, still clad in his full suit. You smile as you let him in, closing the door to turn the lock.

“Your guards mortify me.”

“Oh? So they’re doing their job right?” You walk up to him and grasp onto his lapels, pulling him down to meet the lips you’ve missed so much despite only being hours apart. “Why? Has this big bad pirate found his match in the palace guards of all places?”

“Hmm,” he’s humming against your lips. “I could take them both.”

Giggling like you were in love, you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him close.

“I hope you weren’t bothered too much,” you say. “The aristocracy seem to have being a pain in the ass written in their birthrights.”

“I think they were too scared to approach, probably thought I’d start swearing and snatching the pearls right off their necks. Some of them were bearable, asked me how long my sword was.”

It’s difficult to not laugh at that, “Well?”

He raises his brows unceremoniously, “Won’t you like to know?”

Taking the opportunity while you giggled uncontrollably at the situation, he goes back placing never ending kisses to your mouth. Sighing involuntarily, you melt into him once again, infinitely more relaxed than in the hallway.

Soonyoung’s eyelashes brush against yours in a whisper of their own, only reminding you how close you were to him in the moment. His kisses go from soft and fleeting to something with a little more vigour. The warmth of his mouth goes back to overtaking the lower half of your face, sucking and licking into your mouth like his life depended on it.

If your mind was reeling when his hands were merely ghosts of pressure over your heavy dress, the feeling of his palms and fingers so distinct over your nightgown, the only thing separating you two, is enough to have your knees begin to buckle.

From your waist, they move to your back, before caressing back to the sides of your waist, thumb running in circles. Gentle handfuls of your flesh, bunching and letting go of the material of your nightgown. Very soon, his mouth leaves yours and instead moves to your jaw, the air in the room letting you feel the wetness that he leaves behind as a passionate trail.

He soon reaches the junction of your jaw and neck, leaving a particularly long suck in the area that has a gasp leaving your mouth. Remaining in that area, you feel the pleasant graze of his tongue on your skin, only making you tilt your head farther out to let him carry out his loving.

Your mind wanders back to the hands that grope you in ways that would defame you, the unseemly palms that have you needing to feel him all the same.

With grazing hands, you slip your fingers underneath his jacket, pushing it off one shoulder. He understands the message, flicking it off of his frame before loosening his cravat and throwing it somewhere behind him.

Unlatching from your neck, he comes round to face you to find your face the epitome of disconnected and dazed.

“Can you wait for me on the bed, my love?”

“But—” The thought of him being even an inch away was most aggravating, but he cuts you off before you can refute.

“I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” Soonyoung rests his forehead against your own, taking your hands in his. “I’m right here. I just need to take this awful suit off.”

Your face must have been peculiar because he’s immediately jumping, panicked. “Uh—do you not want me to, we don’t have to, I just thought—”

“No!” you yelp, wide eyed. “I, um, I’ll wait. On the bed, I mean.”

He lets you walk over to the giant four poster bed, pushing the flow of your gown down when you realise how high it had ridden, cheeks burning scarlet at the thought of exposing so much.

Hearing ruffles from behind you, you cannot bring yourself to look back at him, already extremely lightheaded and afraid that the sight might make you faint altogether.

Perhaps you were experiencing a delayed case of sea legs, because it’s more difficult than usual to make yourself comfortable on the soft beddings. You make a futile attempt at slowing your breathing.

By the time Soonyoung is done, meeting you in the middle, you keep your eyes on his face as he’s immediately climbing over to kiss you softly. Hand on the back of your head, he guides you to lay flat, adjacent to the headboard so you’re laying on the breadth of the bed.

He handles you like you were made of glass, and it only makes the strange ache between your legs increasingly present and uncomfortable.

Noting a cool feeling on the base of your throat, you open your eyes and catch the leather cord that dangles from his neck, the letter opener charm that’s attached to the end of it connecting you two as your lips part. Just beyond, through the dip of his collarbones and the valley to his chest, you catch the scar that curls above his heart. Even lower, you find the smaller wrappings of his scarring wound.

You trace over the edges of the new addition, shaking hands as you try your best to not brush over the wound.

On the other side, Soonyoung has his hands on shin as his body hovers over you between your legs. Curling around, he caresses the skin of your bare calf, drifting to the back of your knees. He takes the opportunity to lift your leg, urging you to wrap it around his waist.

The action has gravity doing what it does best, the hem of your nightgown dropping to bunch over the junction of your leg, your entire thigh exposed for the air.

Soonyoung takes no time to let his hands wander higher, taking light handfuls of the flesh of thighs, dragging his grip further and further up.

“Nearly tipped the ship over when I saw you in those fucking trousers,” he says, eyes closed as he drags his mouth over the inner part of your thigh.

The sound that leaves your mouth is breathy, mind preoccupied with how quickly he was making his way towards the apex of your thighs. He’s using his mouth like he used it on your own lips, nipping at the flesh before biting down hard.

“Soonyoung!”

Tongue running over the patch, he sucks on the area to sooth the bite. It’s taking everything out of you to not twitch uncontrollably in his hold, the heat in your core reaching temperatures you’ve never experienced.

Unlatching himself from your thigh, Soonyoung rears his head slightly. The sight has your head rolling back, mind drifting to the face of the man who’d visited you in your dreams, the same man that had now made home between your legs.

Before you realise it, the bunched hem of your nightgown is flown upwards entirely, fluttering as the fabric lands on your stomach.

Your heat is bare underneath, evident with the way Soonyoung keeps his eyes on the now fully exposed part of you. Your chest continues to rise and fall as you lift your head to look at him, eyes half closed and mind muddled.

“What…What’re you doing?”

Soonyoung looks like you’ve disturbed him from a trance, snapping up to look at you as you ask him your question.

It hardly registers in his mind. What was he doing? Was it not obvious—

Ah.

If the mere sight of your bare thighs weren’t enough for him to release his load onto the sheets untouched, your unawareness might just end up doing it for him.

Of course you didn’t know why he was at eye level with your cunt; women from this world were not supposed to know.

The buzz in his mind renders him useless for a few moments as his vision blurs, the pain in his lower region unbearable. The thought of him being the first person to do this to you, to pleasure you like this; he wasn’t sure if he’d make it till the end of the night alive.

Screwing his eyes shut, his palms full of your thighs, he drops his head and counts to ten.

“Will you let me show you how a Queen is meant to be worshipped?”

Wet mouthed and unhinged eyes, your arousal was doing nothing but multiplying at the sight of him.

“Do you trust me?” he asks. “I promise I’ll make you feel good.”

It takes you less than a moment to nod your head, eyes locked with his.

Bringing a hand closer, he dips one finger into the beginnings of your hole. Bringing some of the glisten onto his fingers. Your lips are parted and he brings a second finger to gather your arousal, rubbing over your entrance ever so slowly.

The motion makes you let out a heavy exhale, gripping onto the bunched fabric at your stomach till your knuckles turn white.

With little warning, you feel his fingertips push and drag upwards, right over the sensitive bundle of nerves. Immediately, he’s rubbing your arousal all over the area, rubbing your clit in rhythmic circles with both fingers.

You can’t stop it when you throw your head back and let out a slight whimper, relishing in the feeling that overtakes every last sense and capability, anticipating the next surge of pleasure that courses through your entire body like you've been struck by a bolt of something.

Vision obscured, you loll your head to the side when you feel his fingers retract, confused.

All you catch is the outstretched nature of his tongue, and how it lands directly where his fingers were.

You let out the loudest moan yet, back arching off the bed as he licks a forceful drag up your cunt before moving back down your clit, circling your hole with the tip of his tongue, right before repeating. He flicks your nub right where he’s found you twitch the most, back and forth as your hips begin to fail at your suppressed stutters, his hands needing to pin you down onto the sheets to continue.

He becomes more generous, laying his tongue flat now as he massages your nub so good. Your thighs are closing around his ears and he does nothing to stop you, nearly suffocating between them. Hips going from their stutters to a grind, you find your hands flying to his hair, grip tighter than you thought you’d come down with. It doesn’t help that he’s now taken a finger to circle your entrance while his lips suck on your clit.

“Soonyoung.” It’s all you can say, throat incapable of forcing anything but his name, the burn behind your eyes only making it harder to not say it louder.

When he pushes the finger in, it has you letting out a moan, the foreign feeling against your walls only forcing them to clamp onto his digit. Gradually, you feel his pace quicken as he slides his finger in and out of your hole, his mouth still doing beautiful things to your cunt.

It doesn’t take long for him to shove in another finger, stretching your hole as you let out a constant string of noises through the pleasure, ever-building as every passing moment only scrambles your brain further.

And then you feel him groan, a vibration throbbing through your system.

It’s suddenly all too much, and before you can tell him what’s going on, you’re rendered incapable. You don’t know where your limbs fly, but all you feel is white hot and overwhelming to an unbelievable degree.

“Oh–ungh—” Your body is telling Soonyoung all he needs to know as he only pushes into your pussy even further, letting you ride out your high as you claw at him in every way possible.

Inevitably, the feeling subsides and you realise you’ve been reduced to sobs, tears streaking the sides of your face. Laying flat with your head still on the sheets, you stare at the ceiling of your four poster, trying to remember where you were.

Barely noticing the man that now hover above you, you hear him whisper. “Are you alright?”

Nodding weakly, you don’t even try to lift a finger in the remaining aftermath.

“I need words, my love.”

Swallowing thickly, you give him a breathy, “Yes.”

The lower half of his face glistens in the light like unorthodox diamonds, and all you can think about is how you need him closer to you.

You make an attempt with your nightgown, your trembling arms, still coursing with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

Soonyoung decides to help, hands pushing your spine into an arch as he pulls the slip up and over your head, now entirely bare in front of him.

You watch as instead of throwing the fabric away, he brings it to his mouth to wipe the slick off, tainting the gown with your essence.

Mouth over yours in a salty kiss, you pull him into you as close as humanly possible, needing to feel his heat, his weight, his scent as close as possible. His mouth reaches your throat again, lips brushing over the expanse as he places open mouthed kisses over the nearly faded marks.

His hands are lingering once again as they ghost the sides of your breasts, thumbs coming close to your nipples before retracting in a caress. He takes them in handfuls as he goes back to busy your lips with his own, massaging the mounds with a pressure just enough to have you reeling.

Flicking your nipple lightly, he goes back to circle the bud with thumb again. Making himself further familiar, his fingers begin to pinch and pull at them, pressing down to get a noise out of you, one that you sound as you breathe into his mouth.

Trailing over your stomach, he pushes himself off of you. On his knees, he takes the distance as his chance to look at you in your entirety for the first time. Your fucked out expression and your lack of words is doing nothing but fueling him, your loud breaths somehow more sinful than anything he could ever do to you.

In one swift motion, he’s slipping his arms beneath you, pulling you up so he can lay you against the headboards and pillows. You barely register what’s happening, having given yourself up to him long before.

Grabbing one of the millions of cushions on the bed, he swings one over. Using no strength of your own, he lifts your hips and places it down beneath you, effectively propping you up.

And then he’s meeting you at eye level, hands cupping your face. “I need you to listen to me, darling.”

He waits for confirmation, of which you can only nod, still seeing mild stars. “Do you want to stop?”

It's a visceral reaction; the violent shaking of your head, the hand that flies to his bicep. “N–no!”

You pause as he grips onto your upper arms tight, right as you continue. “I just—a moment. Don’t stop, please.”

Leaning down, he places a long kiss on the corner of your mouth before moving his head to fit into the crook of your neck. He nuzzles his nose against the skin below your ear.

“I’m right here,” he whispers. “For as long as you want me.”

His kisses go from desperate to something with a little more intent, pressing his lips into your neck consistently. Oh so gently, it begins to feel like a draught. He turns into calm just as he could become chaos, bringing you down from the after effects of his own actions.

The hum that leaves you is unthinking, fingers remaining deep in the roots of his hair. Your own nose is pressed against his hair, his scent mixed with sweat infiltrating your nostrils. It fills your head with a pleasant buzz, one that you feel force a pull at the corners of your mouth.

“I meant it when I said it,” you murmur into his hair. “I don’t want anyone but you.”

Raising his head, he meets your eye, smiling slightly. “I believe you. Forgive me for making you believe I was trying to leave you.”

“You weren’t?”

He presses his lips into a line, exhaling as he drops his chin to his chest. “I’ve needed to be selfish my whole life just to survive. Leaving…I wasn’t sure how I would’ve gotten on that boat in the morning without taking you with me somehow.”

Moving back to look at you, you realise very quickly there’s more to the mere glassy look in his eye. “For once, I wished to be anything but a pirate, to be anywhere but near the sea. Not when you wouldn’t be there with me.”

Taking one of his beautifully decorated hands to your mouth, you kiss the soft of his palm. “You’ve done more than anyone ever has to protect me.”

You laugh against his hand, “This is my turf, captain. Let me protect you… protect us.”

Something injects you with a dose of bold, and you find yourself wrapping your arms around his raised shoulders. “But…I believe we were in the middle of something. I’d hate to ruin the mood.”

The smirk that graces his lips is immediate, pushing you back down onto the sheets as you let a laugh escape you.

And then you feel something warm graze your bottom lip, pointed in the way it pushes inwards. He’s brought the glinting letter opener charm up to your lips, the trinket pinched between his fingers as he continues to keep it on your mouth. He kisses you deep as the metal remains between you two, your hands run across the expanse of his back, feeling the muscles ripple as he props himself between you.

“I love you,” he cuts between the kiss to groan, the charm dropping from between your mouths to your chest.

“I love you, mmh—” His fingers have found your clit mid confession, rubbing quickly as he attempts to get you all hot and withered again.

Your legs raise on instinct, back arching as he rubs you mercilessly, the pressure building quicker than it had before.

“I–I think—” you start to tell him, and it seems it’s all he needs to remove his fingers entirely.

“Soonyoung!” you yelp, landing on the bed with a thud.

Looking down, you find his hands wrapped around the length between his own legs, and you realise this was your first time seeing it. Past the white-oozing slit, his tip is a painful looking red. If his hands weren’t already pumping and he hadn’t already lined himself up to your hole, you would’ve taken him into your own palms, done exactly with your mouth that he’d done with his own.

But you can’t find it within yourself to stop him when you feel the initial push of his bulbous tip against your hole, the stretch causing you to drop your mouth open.

“Fuck,” you hear him curse, and when you look up you find his own eyes screwed shut. His hands grip the plush of the pillow beside your head as tight as ever, face askew like he was holding himself back from combusting entirely.

Slowly, you feel the stretch turn into something akin to a burn, a sting in the back of your eyes. You let him push himself into you at his own pace, the never ending battle between your mind and your refrained hips ever present as you attempt to keep them at bay.

He keeps his pelvis flush against yours ince he’s sheathed himself inside you entirely. BOth of your pants fill the thick air of the room, the throb of your walls around his shaft leaving a tremble in his forearm despite your forsake.

Hand somewhere above your head, you feel Soonyoung pull out ever so slightly before pushing back in. Just like this, in shallow thrusts, he pumps himself in an out of your walls in a slow pattern.

It begins with a simmering tremble of pleasure that prolongs as he drags his cock in and out, and then in and out, and then—

Your eyes fly open when you feel his hips slam against yours with a resounding sound, fingers gripping his arm as he does it again, your moans penetrating the air. Before you know it, he’s hiked your legs up to wrap around his waist, ankles locking as he goes back to snapping his hips into you.

“Oh, Soonyoung.”

Your nails are digging into his bicep like it was the only thing tying you to this earth, the only thing keeping you from passing out entirely. He’s taken up a brutal pace, pistoning into your clamped walls with a vigour unmatched.

All Soonyoung can hear is the stretch of your moans and groans directly in his ear, the obscene squelch of both of your fluids mixing at your middles. Your hands have migrated to his back, clawing at the skin like you’ve been utterly possessed.

He can’t seem to mind, not when they’ll simply become reopening wounds every time he’ll have you like this, all to himself and no one else. He wonders vaguely if your guards outside can hear the way you’re losing yourself in him just as he is in you, wonders if it appalls them that a filthy pirate gets to have their Queen in his arms as her vindictive pleasure.

One hand rubbing over your slick clit, he pulls back to sit on his heels, the angle allowing him to keep ever part of you occupied, his spare hand coming up to toy with the pillow of your breast.

It’s all too much, for the both of you as your collective noises become increasingly frequent and high pitched.

And then he’s pushed you over the edge, the shake of your thighs electrifying as you nearly scream out in the bliss of your high. Hands moving every which way to find a grip as you let the feeling crash into you over and over again.

“Oh, that’s so good, so good, oh my goodness.”

You’re still in the middle of your climax when Soonyoung can’t take it anymore, letting himself release his load inside of you like a mark. It’s a mess of force and pleasure as the both of you lose sight of your strengths and weaknesses, the feeling of his hot cum shooting into your walls only prolonging your orgasm even further.

He continues to thrust, continues to play with your nub, continues to flick at your nipples despite the orgasm subsiding. It’s all suddenly too much all at once, the sharp jerk of your body and your voice asking him to stop.

“Soon—Soonyoung, it’s too much.”

Hands coming to a halt and his thrusts slowing, you feel him ease himself out of you.

It’s a sight Soonyoung doubts he could ever forget even if he tried, your still pulsating walls doing everything but keeping the milky white of his load inside you, globs of the liquid spilling out as you shudder near lifeless on the bed. His hands grope at the inside of your thighs, pulling your lips apart to take in the mess he’s made.

He can’t help himself when he pushes two fingers into your hole, feeding his cum back into your hole right where it belongs.

You’ve only barely started to come round when he meets you at eye level, plopping next to you on the bed.

“Hi,” he grins.

“Hi,” you breathe back, hands coming up to touch his face.

He lets you breathe for a few moments as he finds himself getting off the bed to find your tainted nightgown, moving back to you to spread your legs and wipe you clean as best as he could.

You find it within yourself to allow him to pull you into a sitting position, a cup of water from the nightstand pressing against your tired mouth.

“Come on, just one,” he urges as you slump against his chest.

You take a few sips as he coaxes you into drinking the full cup and half of the second helping.

He gives up as he holds you against his chest, brushing his fingers through your tangled hair to push past your face.

“Are you alright?” he asks you. Your eyes are closed when he leans down to place a peck on the apple of your cheek.

“Mhm,” you muffle. “Want to sleep.

“I’d let you, but…”

“Soonyoung, I can’t go again,” you whine.

He chuckles, “I meant to ask where we could find some sugar around here. You barely ate anything at the ball.”

“The kitchens?” you answer with a floating question mark.

Soonyoung can’t help it when he squeezes you so tight it has you complaining loudly, not being able to sustain the love just in the tiny expanse of his heart.

“Come on, let’s get you some cake before both our hearts give out.”

BUNDLED UP IN WARMER clothes, the only thing the palace walls hear is the tiny whispers and giggles of you and your lover as you make your way to the kitchens.

It’s empty at this time of night, the dying embers of the fireplace the only source of light. Soonyoung uses every last bit of his thievery to manage to find a basket of dough balls, the syrup more readily available at the table in the centre.

The tingling in your brain can’t seem to decipher the overwhelming happiness that floods you from the ends of your hair to the tips of your toes. Especially when you call out his name amidst his shuffling, your heart can’t take the grin on his face as he hurries to join on the floor in front of the fireplace.

Arm looped through his own and your head on his shoulder, you decide you’d be quite okay dying like this.

The dough balls are cold and the syrup is probably a little too sweet, but you can’t possibly complain when it warms you just the same.

“I’ve despised my name my entire life,” Soonyoung starts in the silence, picking at the insides of his treat. “Some old merchant sailor was giving his ship away in exchange that the taker would take care of it. He’d built his Tigress from the first board to the last sail, but the years had made their mark. It was practically falling apart when I took it off his hands.”

He pushes the remaining bit of the pastry into his mouth, muffled as he continues, “He had a strange name, said it was given to him by his crew when they realised he was born without a name. Hoshi. I liked it well enough so I kept it.”

“Soonyoung—”

“That one. I wanted to replace the name I loathed, the one my own mother gave me.” You watch as his throat bobs as he swallows. “Ash is my birthplace, my mother worked in the brothels where I was born only because she couldn’t get rid of me.”

Taking one of the hands that wrap around his arm, he brings your fingers to your mouth, kissing the tips of each one. “I despised that name, until I heard it from your lips.”

“Soonyoung.” It felt right on your tongue, like you were destined to say his name.

“Yes, my love?” He smiles softly.

“I love you.”

“I love you more,” he says as he kisses you again. “Thank you for keeping my name, thank you for giving it life.”

You take the opportunity to grab one of the syrup soaked dough balls from the basket and stuff them into his mouth. “Enough, don’t tell me all this luxury’s made you soft.”

It was a jab but a lighthearted one in any case, you loved to see this side of him and you doubt you would ever get enough of seeing him like this. Vulnerable with his softer smiles and squinted eyes.

Bringing one of your digits to your mouth, you suck the remaining syrup off your fingers.

Soonyoung is quick to take notice as he takes your hand and brings your fingers up to his mouth, running his tongue over the pads of your fingers to take in the remaining sugar left on your fingers.

He keeps his eyes locked onto yours as he sucks on the tips of your fingers, making sure every last hint of sweetness is gone.

And then he’s kissing you, tongue in your mouth as he moves against your lips slowly.

Breaking apart, you whisper, “As much as I’d love to, the bakers will be coming in any minute now.”

Soonyoung’s grin is dangerous, and you find out why the minute you feel his arms loop around your waist and under your thighs, lifting you clean off the floor of the kitchens.

You squeal before you can help it, his lips finding home in your neck as you laugh as loud as your chest would allow.

You could get used to this. And you will.

THE SERVANTS CARRYING THE giant stack of plates nearly topple over when you sprint past them, yelling a loud apology over your shoulder as you do nothing but hasten your pace.

The paper in your hands is clutched tight in your fists as you run to where your carriage awaits, near yelling at the driver to make it to the docks before the streets would be full of the early morning merchants and bakers, slowing the gallops of the decorated horses.

The town is waking as your carriage races past, the beginnings of the new day making itself known as the sun peers through the gaps of the houses. You’re incapable of sitting still, your heels tapping against the floors of your cabin incessantly as the docks grow nearer and nearer.

And then you see it, the rush of dock handlers that see the royal carriage slow to a stop in front of the boardwalk. You slam the door open before any of the tens could do it for you, breaking into a sprint as you find the distinct flag of the royal crest wave high on the other end of the docks.

You had already seen Soonyoung off in the dark of the night as he made his way to the ship that was near ready to depart as you slide to stop in front of the anchored ship.

There was nothing sane about what you were doing, the chortles and shocked noises of sailors and merchants deaf to ears as you finally spot him near the prow.

His eyes meet yours and he has to do a double take.

Panting and needing to hold onto your knees for support, you peer up as you watch him run towards the ramp that leads down to the docks to see you, to ask why you were here when he’d kissed you goodbye mere hours ago.

By the time he meets you at the wobbly boardwalk, you’ve somewhat recovered.

“Are you alright?” he asks you as soon as you’re within earshot, hands grasping onto your upper arms in evident concern.

“I had to tell you, this came in right after you left.” You brandish the paper clutched into your fist, smoothing it over as the light catches the red stamp at the bottom.

It takes him less than a minute to realise what it said, eyes blinking rapidly and mouth gaping like a fish. “They…They said yes?”

“They said yes,” you repeat, nodding furiously as you break into a smile. “We can get married, Soonyoung, they said yes.”

His arms are crushing you before you know it, wrapped around you so tight as he buries his face into your neck, repeating it like a mantra, “They said yes…”

By the time you part, he keeps his arms around you, still embracing you in front of the entire port. You take hold of his face bringing it closer to you.

“Three months, and then you come home,” you breathe. “And I get to marry you, in front of everyone.”

Soonyoung lets his lips meet your own in a chaste kiss as he corrects you, “I get to marry you in front of everyone.”

There’s a thud of something nearby, and you look up to find the crew of the Tigress hanging over the railings of the newly appointed naval ship that looked suspiciously like a pirate’s.

“He can’t come back home, if he doesn’t leave!” Seungkwan yells over cupped hands.

You’d like to send him an affectionate gesture involving your middle finger, but choose to save him in front of the crowded port.

“You’ll miss me, Seungkwan, just you wait,” you send him a pointed glare that he simply scoffs at.

He might miss you, but you’ll definitely miss the lot of them when you return to a significantly emptier palace.

“Don’t let the royal snobs walk over you, you’re a better sailor anyway,” you tell Soonyoung. “Not that I needed to tell you, anyway.”

“I promise on our future wedding to be a complete menace.” He grins at the declaration as you admire him in the morning light.

One last time, you memorise the dips and hills of his features, pressing your final kiss into his lips as the voices telling him to hurry it up grow louder.

He blows you a kiss from the railings as the anchor is hoisted, and you send him one right back.

As your carriage trudges its path back to the palace, at a pace more acceptable for both the stamina of the horses and the integrity of the structure, your eyes remain glued to the shrinking ship that fades into the distant horizon.

There’s a pang in your chest, one that brings a tear to your eyes. It’s all very dramatic, the way the melancholy makes a home in your heart. An inkling tells you how you’ll probably become quite used to the feeling, learn to greet it like a friend.

For now you enter the lighter palace, and take your place on the chair in your study and find solace in the ideas your mind brings.

That no matter how long Soonyoung will remain far from you, he will always come back home to you.

Always.

[AN]: ty for joining my babies on their journey, i cannot thank you all enough for reading all 48fuckingK words of this i love you guys truly!!! thank you for all the reblogs and comments on the other parts, it makes me genuinely so happy to see you guys enjoy this universe that i've built. I read every single comment and know i appreciate all of it so so much <3

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innerfare · 6 days

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Smutty Mihawk Headcanons

Summary: a collection of NSFW Mihawk headcanons

Genre: pure smut (afab!reader)

CW: a little bit of knife play (cutting clothes not skin), dirty talk, low-key masochist Mihawk, exhibitionism on the down low

———

Bisexual icon.

King of sexual tension.

Marine hunter? More like marine fucker.

Is eternally bored, but has a keen interest in lingerie, and he rather likes cutting it off you. He never thought he would enjoy drawing a knife or sword during sex, but he finds the trust you put in him invigorating.

A very passionate lover. His insistence on being the best carries over into the bedroom. As such, he’s no fan of quickies. He wants you tied up in his four poster bed, the curtains pulled back to allow moonlight to filter in from the balcony, your naked body sprawled across his silk sheets until the sun rises.

Talks dirty but getting a moan out of this man is like pulling teeth. Also won’t tell you if you’ve pleased him. Your only indication is that he comes back for more.

Of course, if you do want to get a moan out of him, the best way is to hurt him. Likes if you rake your nails up and down his back, yank his hair, bite him (especially the spot between his thumb and index finger after sucking his fingers), squeeze his face in your hands, maybe even slap him.

And then there's his bondage kink. If you tie him up, it better be to whip him. He'll start out goading you in that bored tone of his, accusing you of half-assing it, telling you to hit him harder. You know you've gotten to him when the comments cease and he bites his lip, his brow furrowing.

Doesn’t just fuck. He spars.

Saying it again, cannot emphasize this enough, he loves a biter.

Wants a partner who wants to be chased, as most people either throw themselves at his feet or run away with no hope of being caught. Will chase you down the halls of his castle and ravage you wherever he catches you. Poor Perona has a list of sofas she no longer sits on, counters she refuses to put food on, and entire staircases she avoids. There are even certain mirrors she doesn’t want to look in, even if the marks have been wiped away. Zoro doesn’t fully believe her when she gives him the rundown, thinking nobody can be that feral, particularly not his stoic teacher, who in his mind is the picture of restraint and civility, until he’s training by himself one day in the courtyard and happens to see you appear in one of the towers, only for Mihawk to appear after you and rather lewd sounds to follow. Also sees Mihawk fucking you hard in a window one time, and over a balcony another time. Zoro quickly learns not to enter the wine cellar between the hours of six and ten PM.

Lives for dangerous sexual situations. Has fucked you in the woods at night despite the menagerie of dangerous beasts running around, has fucked you from behind in an open window several stories high, your front half hanging out, has even fucked you in his small boat on stormy, raging seas. Every duel he has ever enjoyed has been charged with sexual tension.

In addition to these trysts, he wants you in his bed every night after dinner. You either shower or bathe together, and then he works you into a sweat so you need another one.

Worries deeply if you ever reject his advances, thinks it must be his fault. “Have I displeased you in some way? Tell me, my love, and I will make it right.” It’s times like this that any veneer of disinterest falls away and you see just how much he cares for you.

Has certain pet names reserved for the bedroom. “My mewling kitten,” is his current favorite.

Always does that thing where he strokes your temple with his thumb when he fucks you in missionary. It’s supposed to be a reassuring gesture when you’re struggling to take all of him, but it riles you up more than it calms you down. Uses his other hand to pull one of your legs up as far as it will go, so he’s pinning you down but comforting you about it.

Loves to feel you up in the bath.

If he has more than one glass of wine, he will be going down on you. The more wine he has, the bigger his appetite for you. It gets worse with stronger liquor. When the Red Hair pirates come to stay and Shanks insists on breaking into the whiskey Mihawk keeps for that very occasion, you know you won’t be sleeping until they leave (and that Shanks will be going down on you, too).

His favorite is to go down on you on his dining table. It makes you feel very exposed considering he strips you down but remains clothed (as is common with Mihawk when he's domming) and the dining room is very large with many doors that anyone could walk through. But that's what Mihawk enjoys about it.

If you go down on him, his hands will most certainly be in your hair. He loves smoothing your hair, and if it’s long, pulling it back into a makeshift ponytail to get the best possible view of your pretty face.

Once moaned Shanks’ name in bed. Neither of you ever addressed it, but you do always flirt with Shanks when he and his crew come around because it seems to peak your lover’s interest. You haven’t proposed a threesome because you don’t want to share him with the Red-Haired drunk.

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

#one piece #one piece headcanons #mihawk #dracule mihawk #hawkeye mihawk #one piece mihawk #mihawk x reader #op mihawk #mihawk smut #Dracule mihawk smut #mihawk x reader smut #shanks #red haired shanks #one piece smut

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sunshinemayhem · 4 months

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second chances - @wolfstarmicrofic - word count: 807

“Sirius, can we talk?” Remus makes an aborted motion at Sirius’s retreating back. James and Peter have already left, and transfiguration doesn't start for another thirty minutes. It’s the best time to have this conversation.

Sirius pauses, then raises an eyebrow, leaning against the door. His face is unreadable.

Remus nods. He’s grateful, at least, that Sirius hasn’t ignored him. “I’m sorry,” he says, unconsciously twisting the hem of his shirt.

Silence.

Remus takes a deep breath. This is harder than expected, but he promised himself he’d stop running away. He looks up, meeting Sirius’s eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, “I screwed up. I didn’t think of how I was hurting you. I.. I was afraid. I was so afraid of losing you –of losing what we had– that I chose to break my own heart before you could do it.” In the back of his head, he questions the Sorting Hat’s sanity for the millionth time.

Remus continues, “It’s not an excuse. I really am sorry.” He swallows. “I’m also sorry that I’m here now, putting you in this position, wanting to make up after I recklessly tore us apart.” He laughs, an ugly thing. “Merlin, I’m a selfish bastard, aren’t I? I’m sorry.” He’s long given up on eye contact. Remus stares at the ground, refusing to blink. He takes a deep breath.

“I.. I think I’m in love with you.” Remus thinks he hears a hitch in Sirius’s throat, but he can’t be sure. The next part is difficult, but it needs to be said. He owes it to the years of friendship between them.

His words come out faster. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. I get it. Really, I do. I’m a pessimist, I’m flawed, I get in my own head. I’m trying, but I’m not perfect. And- And if you’d rather stay friends, I’ll be okay. Well, not okay but I’ll be fine-” Now it was Remus’s breath hitching. He blinks, then ducks his head, swiping his arm against his eyes. He’s humiliated himself enough.

There’s silence again, but Remus has finished his daily quota of courage. “I guess that’s all I had to say.” he shuffles his feet, lifts his head, looking anywhere but Sirius. He laughs once, bitter. “You know, I’d really appreciate a response.”

It’s quiet. Remus swallows. “I guess silence is an answer.” He screws his face up, willing himself not to cry. He really had fucked up, hadn’t he? He wonders if he’ll be okay.

“You-” He stops. He wants Sirius to leave. He starts again, “You’ll have to give me some time to deal with it, you understa-” Warm hands cup his face, and his words get stuck in his throat. They gently guide him to look forward, and Remus’s eyes widen as he realizes that Sirius –Sirius, who’d rather be humiliated publicly by Snape than cry– has puffy, red eyes. He still looks gorgeous, the git.

“Don’t cry, Moony.” he croaks, voice cracking after being silent for so long. Remus feels him gently cup his cheek, wiping away tears. Oh. He hadn’t realized that he was crying. He guesses willpower can only do so much. He feels exhausted, suddenly.

Sirius is still talking, words tumbling over each other, frenetic. “You shouldn’t ever be sad. Never, never, never–” he cuts himself off. “You deserve to be happy. Always.”

Remus looks away, his face still being held hostage by the tenderness in Sirius’s movements. He can’t be comforted. What Sirius isn’t saying cuts like a sharp edge. He can feel acid at the back of his throat, and curses himself for expecting a different answer.

“Look at me,” Sirius says, his voice gentle. It rarely is, and Remus can’t fight it.

“I think I’m in love with you too.” Remus is caught off guard. There’s no way to misinterpret that. The voices in his head can’t contest it.

“Don’t ever say that you’re not enough.” His voice is steady now. “I’m definitely more flawed than you are. I’m cruel, I’m superficial, I have too many trust issues.” Remus’s eyebrows draw together. He doesn’t agree, but his mouth has decided that that’s enough words for today. Sirius understands, like always. They’d always been like that, having conversations with glances, not needing words. In hindsight, that had become a bad thing when they’d stopped communicating.

“Shh, let me finish. I’m sorry too. I didn’t know you were feeling like this. I noticed that you were acting differently, but I was too afraid that you were having second thoughts about me. I wanted to pretend everything was alright so that it didn’t end. ” Remus, again, wants to interrupt, but he’s stopped by Sirius’s earnest stare.

Sirius leans in. “I’m selfish too,” he whispers, “how about we try again?”

And just like that, Remus dares to hope.

#wolfstar #marauders #marauders era #sirius black #sirius orion black #remus lupin #remus john lupin #sirius x remus #remus x sirius #this is honestly just dialogue #i love feedback!#wolfstar microfic #my writing

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bachissidehoe · 9 months

Text

“I already have a girlfriend, so stop asking me.”

“Oh you do? Congratulations Itoshi! Who is it?”

“Who is it Rin?”

“Who’s the lucky girl Rin?”

A bother. Rin thought saying something like that would get those damn reporters off his back. Why do they care so much if he has a girlfriend or not? He doesn’t even want one. But somehow not having one is worse than having one.

It may be best just to continue with the charade. Maybe having an actual real person to be his girlfriend would make them stop asking stupid fucking questions.

“Her.” He points to someone, a pretty girl he’s seen quite a few times. He knows her as a journalist for the Blue Lock organization, but he never cared to learn her name.

Seemingly, Rin’s charade worked. The reporters left him alone after that, finally allowing him to exist in peace.

However, Rin was not prepared for the aftermath of articles being sent to him, a meeting with his coach where he was considerably reprimanded, and a barrage of texts and calls from more reporters trying to get the latest gossip on the most famous striker in the world’s new relationship with a hot older journalist.

So he finds himself in her office the next day, his head down as she too reprimands him for involving her in this in the first place.

“That being said, it would make my ex jealous.” She states, leaning back in her office chair as if she’s a principal scolding a student.

And then the charade deepened, drawing new fans to the soccer scene who were just dying to obsess over a player x journalist fantasy romance story. Suddenly Rin realized he had caused the exact opposite of what he wanted, and now he has more reporters on his ass than ever. Who would have guessed that having a relationship would be worse for him than not having a relationship?

“You have to at least look like you want to be around me. People are wondering if we got in a fight.” She crosses her arms over her chest, looking at a picture from a newly released article on the two of them. Rin stands at least 4 feet away from her, his hands stuffed in his pockets and his gaze directed toward the ground.

“I went out with you. That’s not enough?” Rin rolls his eyes.

“No! We have to also look like we’re in a relationship!” She raises her voice, but drops it again when she realizes she may have been too harsh. “Just, you know, hold my hand or something.”

The normally expressionless striker suddenly finds himself beat red with his eyes wide. “Y-yeah. I get it.”

His fake girlfriend stares him down, refusing to let the short display of emotion pass them by. “Rin, have you ever done anything with a girl at all?”

“No.” He answers honestly.

“Ah, I see.”

That’s when she realized she’ll be taking the lead on this “relationship”. She finds herself both planning and coaching Rin through their “dates” and other public appearances, doing her best to prepare him for any questions they may be asked.

Maybe she’s taking this too seriously, but now they’re too deep to suddenly back out. She just has to go with it, wait at least a few months until she can announce a “breakup”. Hopefully then, that’ll be the end of it.

“I just want to let you know, it’s looking like at some point someone will ask you to kiss me for the camera.” She says, drawing her conclusion after reading the latest scoop on the two of them.

“I’ll just say no.”

“You’d refuse to kiss the girl you’re in love with?”

Rin pauses. “Hmph.” He understands his predicament.

“I figured we could just practice here, you know, since you’ve never done it before. That way you’re prepared.” She finds her cheeks growing redder, trying not to let the bottled up feelings from the last couple weeks get to her at a time like this.

It’s the same for Rin, who looks to the floor, the ceiling, and anywhere else besides her pretty eyes. Kissing her may be all it takes for him to acknowledge that maybe this isn’t as fake as he thought.

“Yeah. I guess that’s fine.” He finally answers.

So she balls her fists together, forcing herself to be mature about a measly kiss. “Look at me.”

He looks up with his eyes, though doesn’t raise his head.

So she lifts his head with her finger, just enough to bring it at an angle where she can meet his lips. He’s much taller than her, after all.

“Okay, just, close your eyes.” She whispers, they’re close enough now where she can hear his heart thumping and every short breath that escapes his slightly parted mouth.

Rin obliges, handing control over to his fake girlfriend, leaving his hands resting at his sides. He doesn’t know exactly what to do with them.

And she kisses him, just a lingering, closed-mouth peck. Her lips are so soft and warm, much different than kissing her cheek like he’s been doing for pictures. Even though it’s short, Rin can feel her hot breaths against his face.

“That was pretty good. There’s not much to it.” She says quietly, finding herself unable to move her hand away from its position under his chin.

“Hm.” Rin responds, his gaze still focused on the floor.

“Do you need to try again?” She asks, wondering if his lack of expression is due to him just not getting it.

“No.” He answers flatly.

“Oh.” His answer confuses her. Did he not like it? “Why not?” She can’t help but ask.

“I feel like I won’t want to stop.”

Continued in Part 2.

#itoshi rin #blue lock #blue lock fanfiction #blue lock fluff #bllk fluff #rin fluff #fake girlfriend #bllk rin #blue lock rin #bllk headcanons #blue lock headcanons #itoshi rin x reader #rin x reader #Rin x reader fluff #itoshi rin fluff #itoshi rin one shot #bllk one shot

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lovableapocalypse · 1 year

Text

feels like

bradley "rooster" bradshaw x fem!reader

wc- 2k

warnings- mentions of pregnancy/being pregnant, vomit/throwing up, like one f bomb, established relationship, i dont think anything else

a/n- reader is a pilot lol. hope you all like it and send me any requests you wanna see!!!!

You were tired of vomit. Tired of the smell, tired of the nausea, and tired of the harsh sting it was leaving in the back of your throat. The past three days you had been pulled to consciousness by your uneasy stomach and ended up over the toilet as your alarm blared from the bedroom.

Bradley has had to leave for training extremely early this week and luckily has missed your ugly morning wake-up call. You’d been subtly avoiding his concerns at work; when you looked queasy after conditioning, when Jake’s body wash scent made you gag, and when you barely touched the coffee he brought you one morning. You played it off as a stomach bug, but your intuition was telling you something completely different.

Thankfully this week had been a zero flight week. You were terrified of flying if your suspicions were accurate, but you were also too scared to take the damn pregnancy test.

As you walked down the hall Friday afternoon, doing your best to avoid everyone, you made a pact with yourself that you would stop by the convenience store tonight. Bradley was staying late to help with new flight curriculum so you’d have the opportunity to do it alone.

Part of you wanted to share this moment with him, but your fear quickly overrode that. You and Bradley had been together for years at this point, ever since your first run at Top Gun. He’s mentioned kids a couple times, but never seriously. Deep down you knew he would accept this and be 100% in it, but your anxiety was on blast and your logical thoughts were nowhere to be found.

You were supposed to be heading to a group meeting, all Dagger Squad members present. Your nausea has been steady all day, and hasn't eased up since you puked your guts up first thing. It’s been miserable and your sweaty, pale complexion are a testament to that. You’re trying your best to take deep breaths as you walk through the humid hallway, but your stomach lurches anyway. You grip the wall nearest to you and clench your eyes shut.

Deep breaths. In and out. You wait for the pain to subside before you start walking again. You slowly enter the conference room, looking around. Last one here, great. You shoot a small smile in apology and head to the empty seat next to Bradley.

He gives you a quizzical look as Maverick begins a spiel about next week's itinerary.

“You okay?” He whispers, brown eyebrows pinched.

You inhale sharply and nod, reaching for his hand to squeeze in reassurance. He squeezes in return and tries his best to keep his attention on Mav, but your squirming is distracting. It’s too hot in this cramped office space. You swear you can feel each person’s body heat radiate off them, making your head spin.

Breaths. Deep freaking breaths. You’re trying to concentrate once again on your breathing as Phoenix asks a question, but everything is muffled and distant. You feel Bradley’s eyes seer into you and your jaw clenches unbearably tight.

This is not happening. You refuse. You’ve made it the whole week without getting sick at work, and you really don’t want your closest colleagues and friends to see you hurl in a tiny trash can. Bradley squeezes your hand tighter trying to grasp your attention, but you just stare ahead and will your body to stop.

Fuck. There’s definitely no stopping it. You shoot to your feet, pulling your hand from Bradley’s, drawing everyone’s attention. You briefly hear Mav ask if you’re alright and your hand quickly shoots to cover your mouth as you stumble to the trash can. Your stomach empties and you cough harshly, bent over the small container. You hear chairs screech and boots on the ground and soon feel a familiar hand slide up your back.

Bradley pulls your hair away from your face with his other hand and continues to rub your back, glancing around the room in concern. Phoenix and Bob shoot him sympathetic looks and Jake’s grimace is clear as day.

Mav makes his way over to you, cautiously, and shouts at Javy to get a medic. You raise your hand and wave at him, trying to refuse. You cough again, “I’m fine. I’m okay.”

“You just puked y/n.” Bradley states.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry- just I’m okay now.”

You slowly stand up and Bradley keeps his grip on you, moving you towards a seat. You glance up, cheeks flushing in embarrassment, and see the sympathetic looks sent your way. “Sorry,” You sigh.

Javy returns out of breath with the medic and you can’t help but roll your eyes. “Really, I’m fine.”

“Y/n I think you should go get checked out,” Maverick says, “Rooster, why don’t you go with her.” He nods his head towards the door and motions for you, Bradley, and the medic to leave the conference room.

Bradley keeps his grip on your elbow as you walk slowly toward the med bay. The medic is asking you basic questions that you are trying your best to answer as vaguely as possible. When you enter the med area you begrudgingly let the medic take your temperature and check your vitals.

“Everything looks okay. I’d just get some rest and head to urgent care if your symptoms get any worse.”

You’re grateful the medic didn’t mention pregnancy and you nod in appreciation as they exit the small exam area.

Bradley sighs and places his hands on his hips. “Let me take you home, honey. Get some sleep.”

You shake your head, “No Roo it’s okay, I promise. You have to stay late anyway.”

You’re avoiding his gaze as a lump forms in your throat. You’re not sure why you feel so emotional all of a sudden, but with barely any sleep and vomiting up everything you eat, you’re exhausted. You feel tears prick your waterline as Bradley steps closer to you.

He reaches up and cups your face. It wasn’t always like this. You and Rooster are both stubborn to an unhealthy degree, and when you two got off on the wrong foot all those years ago you never imagined this. He rubs his thumbs over your cheeks, examining you with his eyes.

“What’s going on? You’ve been off all week.” His voice is soft and it only makes you more emotional.

You close your eyes and feel the first tears escape down your face. “I think I’m pregnant.” You whisper.

You keep your eyes shut as you hear him inhale. He grips your face tighter, willing you to open your eyes. When you finally open them, he’s smiling.

“You’re pregnant?”

You shake your head, “I’m not sure yet. I haven’t taken a test yet, but I’ve been sick all week and I can’t remember when my last period was.” You sigh.

His smile only grows. Of course he would be excited. You’re not sure why you were convinced he would be pissed or upset. His reaction only makes you cry more and he tugs you closer into the warmth of his chest.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head and steps back, helping you off the exam bench. “Let's go home, yeah?” He asks.

You nod solemnly and thread your fingers through his, heading to the exit. Bradley lets Mav know you’re sick and he’s taking you home, planning to finish the flight course next week. He helps you into his Bronco and secures your seatbelt for you. He kisses you lightly before closing the door and heading around the car.

On the way back to your shared place he detours to the nearest convenience store and parks out front. Turning to you he says, “I’m gonna run in and grab a few tests. Do you want to come in?”

You shake your head and lean back against the seat letting it absorb your exhaustion. He’s quick inside and jogs back out to the car with a full bag.

“I didn’t know which one to get so I just grabbed a bunch.” He pulls a few out to show you and you laugh at his eagerness.

He smiles at you and places the bag in the back seat, squeezing your knee as he starts the car again.

He turns the radio on low as you watch your surroundings pass by. You don’t know how to feel about all this. Are you even ready to be a mom? You glance at Bradley and take in his tanned skin and light blush covering his nose and ears. He’d be a great dad, you already know it.

You try to shake off some of your anxiety as you head inside. Bradley pulls you close and squeezes your arm, sending you a reassuring smile. You exhale and turn to him, “Will you take it with me?”

“Of course.” He nods and rubs your arm gently.

You head towards the bathroom with the bag full of tests and Bradley fills a cup of water for you. You’re examining all the different tests when he enters and comes up behind you. He rests his head on your shoulder and reads the boxes with you.

You grab the test with the electronic Pregnant or Not Pregnant answer and a generic 2 line test as well. Bradley sits with you the whole time anxiously squeezing any part of you he can touch. You place the tests near the sink and set a timer on your phone.

You both sit in a comfortable yet tense silence. You can tell Bradley is more excited than you are but he’s doing his best to keep himself calm. The phone rings cutting off your anxious thoughts and you both stand together to look at the results.

You grab the line test first seeing two very visible solid lines. You quickly grab the other which coincides with a bold Pregnant flashing at you. You close your eyes and pass the test to Bradley, feeling the waterworks begin.

He gasps slightly and puts the test back on the counter. He laughs as he turns you to face him, “Hey, hey it’s okay. Everythings gonna be fine,” You can hear the smile in his voice as your tears fall faster.

“We’ll figure it out, okay? Hey, look at me.” He cups your face again, your eyes opening to meet his.

“We’re gonna figure it out.” His smile spreads, “We’re gonna be parents holy shit.” You laugh at his excitement and pull him into an embrace.

“We’re gonna be parents.” You mumble into his shirt.

The next morning you head to a local clinic just to get a medical test and see if everythings okay with the baby. You’re given the all clear and relative timeline of birth and growth and everything seems so surreal. Bradley is beyond excited and it’s starting to rub off on you. He spent the whole night reassuring you and brainstorming possible names.

The doctor did let you know that flying is off limits. You feel a bit sad at the loss of flying, but know Mav will keep you busy in other ways. You keep reminding yourself this as you head to his office Monday morning. Bradley and you are hand in hand, him excited to break the news. You knock and hear a muffled “Come in” on the other side. You exhale and squeeze Bradley’s hand as you push the door open.

“Hey y/n, Bradley.” He nods. “Feeling better?” He places the paperwork he was looking at down and looks between you both.

You glance to Bradley who quickly nods his head, urging you on. “About that.” You turn back to Mav’s confused expression continuing, “Um, Bradley and I actually have something to tell you.”

Pete remains silent, questioning you both.

“I’m, uh, not gonna be able to fly for a while.”

His brows furrow, mouth opening to object, but you beat him to it.

“I’m pregnant.”

His mouth drops in shock and Bradley laughs at his expression.

“I- I mean wow. Holy shit!” He laughs. He stands and rounds the desk pulling you into a tight hug and then Bradley. He shakes Rooster’s shoulders as he pulls away and his face is ecstatic.

“I’ll be damned,” He looks between you both again and shakes his head. You glance at Bradley and smile.

Bradley’s grin is contagious and he shouts, “We’re gonna be parents!”

#bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster top gun #top gun maverick #tgm #top gun #tgm fanfic #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #bradley bradshaw x you #rooster fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick x you #top gun maverick x reader

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ceilidho · 1 year

Note

re: that knight!ghost x princess!reader

can’t stop thinking about this elegantly dressed, impeccably well-behaved, shy princess wearing a golden collar her husband got her to help her remind her who she belongs to, and make her feel safe and watched over, no matter where she is :))

also knight!ghost refusing to give her more than a kiss on their wedding night because she’s a) a virgin, b) terrified of this masked behemoth she’s been basically given to as reward, and c) the prettiest fucking girl he’s ever seen in his life. and refuses to touch her until she becomes obsessed with him like he is with her, encouraging her to pursue her interests and talents and do things, helping her blossom while still looking like Death himself, taking care of her every need until she throws herself at him like a good little slut :))

he probably would like tying her up a lot too

g-golden collar......im sweating at the thought

actually the contrast between Ghost being so rough and tumble, barking at the knights under his command, quick to draw his sword at the slightest threat to him or his wife, floorboards creaking loudly under the weight of his feet when he stomps from room to room, and then so so gentle and soft with his new wife....i may pass out

also the contrast between him only giving her the chastest of kisses on their wedding night and sending her off to bed in another room (they won't share a marriage bed until she comes crawling to him in desperation), and him wrenching her over his knee when she snaps at him in front of his troops, no compunction at all about pulling up her frilly skirts and reddening her ass with his hand until she's crying and slick between her thighs (she can't help it).

then he rights her and sends her off to attend to the estate with just a sweet kiss to her forehead, even though she stumbles all the way back home.

#cod mw2 #ceil writing #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #cod simon riley #simon riley x you #ghost/reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost cod

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artycomicfangirl · 5 months

Text

“So YOU’RE the fellas that’s been messin’ with my Sweet-Pea… You know, Ever seen Firecracker Flowers in a garden before? They’re real pretty…How ‘bout I give ya Koopa-Goons the full bunch, huh?”

//Spoiler alert. She did not give them any flowers, pffft//

Whoop, I do apologize for my constant Daisy obsession. But this time I’m actually working on an SMBSS design character sheet for her, and other Nintendo girls. So, was testing stuff out!

Of course the Flower Princess would know how to handle all things flowers!

Now currently it’s a trying to also think about Daisy’s personality for this. Right now I’m sort of drawing some inspiration from Rogue from the X-Men animated series. Beautiful, not afraid to be pretty and all. But is definitely more tougher.

Probably unlike Peach who takes a more rational and reasoning approach. Daisy is a bit more blunt and speaks her mind.

In fact, I think it may be implied That King Koopa has only attempted to kidnap her once, but NEVER again. A running gag is whenever Daisy is mentioned, it’s clear that he dislikes her on the same level as he does with Mario. He had never attempted to make her his Bride. But the moment she shows up, he instantly becomes Timid. Clearly traumatized.

The extent of her Damage of what she did to his force, no one knows. But it’s enough of a secret King Koopa is so greatly embarrassed about, he refuses to let see the light of day.

Daisy will never let that die down. But King Koopa will literally trip over his own feet just to prevent her from even opening her mouth.

The closest thing you’ll ever get to know, is that she “Smacked him into next week!”

#fanart #digital art #artists on tumblr #art #super mario #nintendo #princess daisy #sketches #the super mario bros super show #super mario bros

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chickenlizard13 · 1 year

Text

Let Me See

Pairing: Ominis Gaunt x Reader (gender neutral)

Word Count: 4742

Warnings: Fluff, Mature 18+ (get outta here you kids)

Description: I’m really just doing whatever I want at this point. Can be read as a sequel to All You’ve Done, but can also be read as a standalone. Prequel to Stay Right Here.

Holding the box in your lap, you bounce your knees impatiently, awaiting Ominis’s return. You sat on the couch, fearing he’d take the gift as an insult, rather than the assistance it was meant to be.

Grabbing your journal from the side table, you read the incantation again, and again, and again, knowing it by heart but still afraid you’d make a mistake. It was getting late, a heavy rainstorm obscuring the front gate of the property, making you all the more anxious. Ominis was always punctual, if not early, so it concerned you that he still hadn’t walked through the front door.

Taking a few calming breaths, you reminded yourself that Ominis was incredibly capable, more so than you at times, so it wouldn’t do to sit around worrying.

Standing up, you gingerly place the box on the couch, heading into the kitchen to make tea. Ominis would certainly appreciate a hot cup after the cold storm. You’d just put the pot on the flames, when two freezing hands appeared on your hips. Yelping, you turn around to an absolutely soaked Ominis, grinning down at you mischievously.

“Hello, darling.”

“Ominis! I don’t understand how you keep doing this. Why is it, I can level an entire poacher camp alone, but I never hear you sneaking up behind me?” His grin widened as he took a step towards you, the puddle forming at his feet growing larger.

“It’s not my fault you keep letting your guard down. Perhaps you’ve become rusty?”

Scoffing, a drop from his wet hair lands directly on your forehead, startling you. “My love, go change. Those clothes can’t be comfortable.”

You try to move out of his grasp, but find yourself being tugged back, your hands landing on soaked biceps.

“I’m actually quite comfortable right here.”

Water continues to drip on you from his hair as you squirm, laughing in his arms, his smile becoming more maniacal the longer you struggle. “Ominis! Release me you scoundrel, you’re soaked! Go dry off!”

Instead, he hauls your body right up against him, shoving his face into the crook of your neck. You again squeal at him to let go, but he refuses to budge.

Finally he raises his face, kissing you sweetly on the lips, before pulling away slightly. You gaze up at him in annoyance, grimacing. “I’m wet.”

He chuckles playfully, humming as he kisses you again and whispers against your lips. “You will be.”

Blushing, you smack him on the arm and he steals one last kiss before releasing you to change, laughing the whole way up the stairs.

You look down at yourself, now also soaked, and shake your head, a small amused smile gracing your lips. Grabbing your wand, you dry yourself off and clean up the water Ominis had tracked into the kitchen.

The house had once belonged to Professor Fig, and was passed to you upon his death. It sat isolated on a high cliff, overlooking the ocean. Wildflowers bloomed in the yard, their stalks shaking wildly as Ominis’s ever growing cat colony chased each other through the grass.

You’d moved in immediately after seventh year, not having another place to go, and not wanting to return to the muggle world. Ominis had returned to the Gaunt estate at first, but showed up at your doorstep in hysterics late one night, cursing his family name and the marriage they’d tried to force on him. You’d ushered him through the door, and he never walked back out.

It’d been several years since then, and every day you were grateful to have him. At times, you had to stop and steady yourself, awed by the love he bestowed on you constantly. You thought it a crime that his family attempted to rob him of his gentle soul, and you swore to pay them back tenfold if they ever tried again.

The tea pot whistled loudly, drawing you out of your thoughts. Grabbing two cups, you bring the tea out to the living room, startling slightly when you see Ominis standing by the couch, back to you.

He’d changed into dry comfortable clothes, turning around when he heard you enter. In one hand he held the box you’d set on the couch, in the other, he held the contents of said box.

“Darling, this was on the sofa. Is it yours?” You set the tea down on a table and walk over to him.

“It’s yours actually.”

He quirks an eyebrow at you. “A scarf? I have plenty of scarves my love, something you remind me of constantly.”

Rolling your eyes, you worm your way under his arm, hugging his side, arms wrapping around his waist. “It’s not just any scarf, you silly man.”

He makes a curious sound in the back of his throat as he leans his head on top of yours. “Care to enlighten me?”

Back at Hogwarts, Natty informed you of a certain charm taught at Uagadou. The spell allowed the caster to see through the eyes of a familiar. You’d immediately thought about Ominis, that maybe he’d be interested in trying it out, but Natty said that she wasn’t sure if it’d work on someone who was already blind. Thus, began the long journey of trial and error, often forcing Sebastian to play guinea pig with a blindfold.

Once you were sure you’d perfected the charm for your purposes, you’d gotten to work on the familiar part. Natty was very specific, stating that the caster and familiar had to have a deep connection, and Ominis wasn’t overly fond of most beasts. He loved the cats of course, but you wouldn’t say there was one he favored in particular.

Then the thought came to you, perhaps if you made something yourself, and then transfigured it into an animal, your connection with Ominis would translate over. Honestly, you’d have probably been able to show him sooner, if learning to knit hadn’t taken so long.

Now though, everything was finally ready. Ominis held a cream colored scarf in his hand, both of your initials embroidered in the corner. “Why don’t you sit down, my love.”

Ominis cocks his brow at you, but obeys, sitting down and patting the seat next to him. You sit and take his unoccupied hand in yours, lacing your fingers together.

“So, I’ve been working on something, for you, for quite a long time now, and I think it’s finally ready.”

His thumb swept back and forth across your hand, body turned towards you attentively. “The scarf? You made it?”

Nodding, you continue your explanation. “That’s not all. I- There’s a spell that would allow someone to use a familiar to…see.”

You felt his fingers tighten on yours as his brows furrowed. “But I…I don’t have a familiar. How would-“

“That’s where the scarf comes in. I’m going to transfigure it.”

Ominis breathed out, not saying anything more. You would be worried that he was cross with you, if not for the thumb still stroking lazy circles on the back of your hand. “And…you’ve been working on this? For how long?”

You pressed your lips together, unable to read his face to tell what he was feeling. “Since our seventh year.”

Ominis sucked in a breath, his voice coming out in a whisper. “That long?”

He clutched the scarf in his hand, holding it close to him, voice just above a whisper. “Show me.”

Squeezing his hand reassuringly, you take out your wand, and waving it over the scarf, you watch as it transfigures into a smooth white snake. You just thought he’d look so good with a snake draped over his shoulders, making such a striking image combined with his pressed jackets and manicured hair. He smirked slightly at you, raising an eyebrow in amusement.

“A snake? Really?”

“Shut up. Are…Are you ready?”

His face becomes serious again, hesitating only a moment before nodding his head. You took a deep breath, praying for success. He closed his eyes, squeezing your hand as you cast the spell. You were sure to be extra careful with your pronunciation, placing your wand on the table when you finished. He waited a beat before cracking an eye open, sucking in a breath and snapping it shut again.

You reached for him, heart sinking, fearing the worst. Before your hands could get too far, he was shoving his face into your shoulder, eyes still pinched shut. “Ominis, what’s wrong? Did it not-”

“It worked. I’m just- I just need a moment.” You could feel him take calming breaths against your skin, allowing him to stay there until he was ready. Slowly, he leaned back, eyes still shut. Blinking slowly, he opened them, taking in the carpet under his feet. He studied the patterns, following the black swirls, before looking at the fireplace. The snake’s head mirrored his movements, silently showing him what he wanted. He sat mesmerized by the fire for a moment, before looking back at the carpet, the snake moving in sync.

“What…what color is that?”

You didn’t take your eyes off him, knowing what he was asking about. “Red.”

He mouthed the word, staring for a moment more, before turning his gaze to look at you. It looked like all the air left his body as he locked eyes with you, his breath shuddering out of him. “...oh.”

His eyes darted around your face, a stricken look on his features, mouth slightly open. You didn’t know what he meant, feeling slightly self conscious under his attention, resisting the urge to cross your arms in front of you. You’d never felt insecure in your relationship, but suddenly you worried he didn’t like what he saw, nervous it would have a negative effect on his feelings for you.

You unintentionally shied away from his intense scrutiny, and his hand shot out to your face, chasing you. “Please don’t run.”

He swallowed, still staring at you with wide eyes. “I’m-I’m sorry, it’s just…that’s…that’s what you look like? I- How- How did you end up with…me?”

You looked at him bewildered, his eyes drinking in the new expression. “How did I…end up with you? Ominis I- because you’re kind, and generous, and-”

“But you just look so…I don’t- I can’t articulate how-” He stopped abruptly, releasing an irritated huff at his fumbling.

You realized that he’d never seen himself before. He didn’t know how beautiful he was. Standing suddenly, you haul him up, dragging him to the nearest mirror. The snake slithered up his arm, resting its long body around his shoulders, head turning quickly as Ominis tried to look at every object you passed.

You lead him to a mirror hanging in the hall, stopping in front of it. “How did you end up with me? My love, take a look at yourself.”

He turned his attention to the mirror, eyes wide. His hand came up to touch his face. “Are these…moles? I have so many.”

Hugging one arm, you lean your head against him, watching him inspect himself. You smile lovingly, fingers running up and down his arm lightly.

He watched in the mirror as you watched him, the look on your face striking him in the chest. Was this how you always looked at him? Even having now seen himself, he truly couldn’t fathom why you chose him. He thought he looked so plain compared to you. You were…Merlin you were beautiful. He’d known that of course, his wand giving him a vague idea of your facial structure, but it was nothing compared to this. He could see the slightest change to your expression, the color of your skin, your eyes. It was overwhelming.

“You have to stop doing this.”

Scrunching your brow, you shake your head at him, not understanding.

“Every time I think I can’t possibly fall more in love with you, you give me another reason. What am I supposed to do? Nothing I can give you will ever hold a candle to what you’ve given me.”

Shaking your head, you try to object, but Ominis continues on. “I’d endure every terrible thing in my life, all of it, all over again if it meant you’d be there waiting for me.”

You turn your face away, hiding your watery eyes. He squeezes your hand, a soft smile painting his face, his voice intimate. “Thank you, my love.”

You sat together in silence for a moment longer, just basking in each other's presence. Eventually, he asks you to disenchant the snake and turn it back into a scarf, informing you that he was feeling a little overwhelmed at the moment. You did as he asked, taking care to place the scarf back in the box carefully, saving it for another time.

He held you close that night, limbs entangled, your face tucked into his neck as he combed his fingers through your hair. Basking in your warmth and replaying your image in his head.

—————

It’d been a few days since then, the both of you sitting at the kitchen table enjoying a peaceful morning. You gazed out the window at the rising sun, sipping your coffee, lost in thought. Ominis stroked his fingers on the back of your hand idly, an enchanted book in the other hand, seemingly engrossed in the words. In reality, Ominis’s attention was elsewhere, mulling over the events of the days prior.

He’d used the scarf a handful of times, for short periods as it was still quite overwhelming, preferring to use his wand for most things.

However, a thought continuously ran through his mind every time he saw you. He loved seeing the little expressions that were often lost to him, treasuring each one, but as time went on his eyes would drift lower, wondering what you’d look like under your clothes. He’d trace the contours of your body, his hands lightly following the path his eyes blazed.

He wanted desperately to peel your layers off, slowly exploring your skin with his lips, wondering what color you’d turn with his mouth on you.

What he wasn’t thrilled about, was the large snake he’d have to wrap around his shoulders, wearing it the entire time he ravaged you. He turned the thought over in his mind, pondering possible solutions, and the things you’d said about the nature of the spell itself.

“Darling, may I ask you something?”

You turned your head towards him, eyes blinking slowly as you came out of your distracted daze. “Of course, my love, anything.”

He paused for a moment, mindlessly stroking your hand in thought. “That spell, does it only work on animals?”

You cocked your head, to the side, considering his inquiry. “I’m…not sure. The spell specifies that a connection is required, but I don’t know if it’s strictly limited to beast companions. Why do you ask?”

Ominis hummed in thought. “Simply curious.”

You nodded, squeezing his hand. “I’ll do some research today while you’re at work.”

Smiling, he gently brought your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles lightly. “Thank you, darling.”

—————

It took a couple more days, and a brief trip to see Natty, but you think you’d done it. Ominis sat in front of you on the couch waiting patiently, a nervous buzz beneath his skin. He closed his eyes in anticipation, until he felt the now familiar feeling of the spell taking effect.

Opening his eyes, he was startled with the image of himself sitting on the couch. It was interesting watching his own reactions, finding coordination difficult as you sat across from him.

You watched him flail about for a moment, unsure of how to match his movements to what he was seeing. Standing, you take the seat next to him. “Better?”

He nods, and turns his face to you, disappointed when he only sees himself looking back. This wouldn’t do at all. His brows furrowed, a pout forming on his lips. “I can’t see you.”

You chuckle and grab his hand, guiding him once more to the large mirror in the hall. Standing in front, you gesture to your reflection. “Problem solved.”

Ominis slots himself up behind you, winding his arms around your torso as he places his chin on your shoulder, a wicked smirk tugging at his lips. “Problem solved indeed.”

There was something in his voice that sent a shiver down your back, but you watched him start to place light, lingering kisses on your neck. You stood there, tilting your head to give him better access, to which he groaned in appreciation, his kisses becoming a bit more forceful.

You continued to watch him in the mirror as he worked his way up your neck, flinching when he bit your ear playfully. He laughed quietly in amusement, enjoying every expression you gave him and moved his hands to your hips, squeezing them.

“Ominis…” Panting slightly, an aroused flush appeared high on your cheek bones, as a needy ache formed between your legs. Pleased hums reverberated against your back, Ominis’s hand traveling upward, brushing your nipple through your clothing. You jerk against him again, a second brush of his thumb pulling a small whimper from you.

Ominis groaned as he watched you, feeling giddy and a bit clumsy, as if this were your first time all over again. He knew the contours of your body like the back of his hand, but savored every twitch and whimper as his eyes devoured you hungrily.

He kept his gaze fixed on your face, head spinning at the furrow of your brow and half lidded eyes, lips parted slightly, breathing heavy. His hand gripped your chest fully, sucking at your neck with fervor, a breathy whine escaping his lips at your lustful expression. He detached himself from you momentarily to speak. “You’re telling me…this is what you look like when I touch you?”

He ground his hard dick into your ass, hands tugging your hips tight against him. “I haven’t even undressed you yet, and you already look like this?”

Reaching a hand up, you close your eyes and slam his mouth down onto yours in a passionate kiss. He moans into your mouth, disappointed he could no longer see you, but loving the desperation with which you kissed him. Twisting in his arms, you stand on your toes, winding your arms around his neck to keep him close.

Ominis wrapped his arms around you, stroking your sides as he pushed his tongue past your lips. Suddenly, he rips himself from you, panting a demand into your mouth. “Upstairs. Now.”

You waste no time grabbing his hand and clumsily leading him up the stairs, both of you tripping in your excitement. He kicked the door shut behind him, tugging on your hand forcefully, bringing you back into another searing kiss. He had one hand on your face and the other gripping a handful of clothing at your waist, spinning you around to push you against the door.

His hand traveled from your waist, skimming your thigh before lifting your leg to his hip, giving him better access to grind his lower body into you. Moaning, your hands find his hair, pulling on it while you pant his name between sloppy kisses.

“Is there a mirror in this room?” The words are growled against your mouth and it takes your brain a moment to process his question.

“A- A mirror? I- um, n-no I don’t- I don’t think there is.” It was hard to think with him grinding his hard cock into you, creating such delicious friction. He kissed you again, unable to stay detached for too long.

“Then make one.”

Your legs wobbled at his demanding tone, unsure if you’d even be able to make it to your wand on the bedside table. “M-My wand…it’s oh Merlin- it’s on the table by Ominis- by my side of the bed.”

Groaning, he tugged you from the door, lips never leaving yours as his hands caressed you every place they could reach. The both of you fumbled your way to the bed, your hand blindly searching the table for your wand, almost knocking it on the floor.

Tearing your mouth from his momentarily, you transfigure your bureau into a huge mirror sitting on the far wall. The image of your disheveled appearance, with Ominis wrapped around you, appeared in the reflection.

Ominis whimpered loudly, rolling his hips into you hard. “Merlin, my love, I can’t- you look so good. Did I- Did I do that to you?.”

Your eyes roll back at the awe in his voice, barely able to stand. His hands tug at your clothes with purpose, cursing under his breath. “Get these wretched things off.”

Tearing at your clothes, you’re eager to comply, ripping the clothes from your body as he does the same. When you finish, he climbs backwards onto the bed, hands tugging you along with him. He lets his hands explore your body as he kisses you, fingers traveling lower, feeling the wetness between your legs.

“So wet. All for me. All mine.”

You loved when he got possessive like this, but today especially, he seemed so wild, like a beast in heat. You’re abruptly turned around, Ominis settling behind you once more. Craning your neck, you go to question him, but the words die in your mouth when you catch a glimpse of your reflection.

All you see is your naked body on full display, Ominis hovering over your shoulder, staring at your reflection hungrily. Becoming a bit self conscious, you try to cover yourself, but your hands are immediately ripped from your body, his grip tight on your wrists.

“Don’t you dare.”

Whimpering you try to tug your hands from him. “Ominis, it’s a bit- it’s embarras-“

“I don’t care. Let me look at you.” Growling his words directly into your ear, he releases your hands, peppering wet kisses on your shoulder. Ominis brings one hand to your chest, rolling your nipple between his fingers while the other travels lower, skimming your stomach. Your breathing picks up again as you watch it, anticipation replacing anxiety.

His hand stops just short of where you want it, stroking the skin possessively. “Don’t even think about closing your eyes. I won’t miss a single second of you coming undone.”

Before you could respond, his fingers plunged the rest of the way, finally where you wanted them. You automatically close your eyes as you let out a shameless whine, but immediately feel him halt his movements. “What, did I just say?”

Forcing your eyes open, you train them on your entangled bodies in the mirror. “Good. So good.”

He continued his movements, fingers driving you higher and higher almost tipping you over the edge, but it wasn’t enough. You start moving your hips against his hand, making sure to rub his leaking cock against your ass. His movements falter and he tucks his face against your shoulder for a moment, breathing frantic and heavy.

“Ominis, my love, I need- Merlin, I need more. Please. More.” Emphasizing your plea with the grinding of your hips, it only takes a moment before Ominis rips his fingers from you, leaning back on his heels a bit to line his aching cock up with your entrance.

“As you wish, darling.”

He pushes into you slowly, maintaining enough self restraint to still be gentle, knowing you’d need a moment to adjust to his size. You cried out at the full feeling, a string of whispered encouragements falling from your lips. You struggled to keep your eyes open, but were rewarded with the sight of Ominis, completely wrecked as he shoved himself inside of you.

Once he was fully seated, he stilled a moment just breathing, his face resting in the crook of your neck. He waited a bit longer than you would have liked, so you attempted to buck against him, trying to coax him into moving. Instead an arm clamped around your front, preventing you from moving, while the other hand came to cover your eyes.

As you were about to ask, you felt a wetness on your shoulder, startling you. “My love, what’s wro-“

“I’m sorry, my darling, I just- I just need a moment.” His voice was quiet, words watery as he kept still, holding you. Tears silently ran down your back, as Ominis released shaky breaths into your skin, arm tightening around you.

“I love you. So much. It’s- Sometimes I get overwhelmed by how much I love you, and this…treasure you’ve given me is- is…my love, I can’t even begin to tell you what it means to me. You deserve so much more than I can give you. I’m sorry, but…I don’t- I don’t think I could live without you anymore.” Ominis sobbed his words into your shoulder, one of your hands clamped on his arm, and the other gripped the back of his head, trying your best to hold him in your current position.

The tears stopped a moment later, and he lifted his head to place a few loving kisses on your lips, hand still covering your eyes. Sniffing slightly, he nudged your nose with his, whispering an apology. “I’m sorry for ruining the moment, darling.”

Laughing quietly, you card your fingers comfortingly through his hair. “No moment with you is ruined, my love.”

You wiggle your hips a bit, reminding him of your current situation. “However, I would still like to finish, if you’re up for it.”

Chuckling in amusement, some of the fire came back to his chest. Kissing your shoulder a few times, he moves to speak directly in your ear. “Always.”

He starts out slow, grinding his hips into yours, trying to build your desire back up to where it had been. His hand comes off your eyes, and you immediately open them to look at your reflections. Ominis moans as your image floods his mind once more, hips starting to move faster. “So fucking pretty.”

Shuddering at his praise, needy whines fight their way out of your throat, begging him to go faster. Obliging you, his hips snap forward at a wild pace, his chin hooked over your shoulder to keep you close. “I can’t- my love, I don’t think I can last much longer. I need you to- oh Merlin darling, I need you to cum. Please. I need it so badly.”

Ominis trails one hand down your front and starts working you in time with his thrusts. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, struggling to keep them open. “No, no, no, my love, please keep your eyes open. I want to -fuck, I want to watch you fall apart. Please, let me. Please?”

His thrusts get sloppy as he speeds up, fingers stroking you so perfectly. He whispers praises into your ear. Telling you how good you are for him, how much he loves you, how much he needs you, how desperately he wants you to cum. His pleading whispers hurl you over the edge and you force your eyes to stay open for him.

He sobs at the sight of you, finishing as soon as he feels you convulse around him. Emptying himself inside you, his hips keep twitching and grinding, prolonging both of your pleasure. Lips brush your neck as he speaks praises into your skin, thanking you for staying with him, for loving him.

The room was silent, save for your combined panting, the two of you trading comforting caresses as you come down. You allowed the spell to fade, Ominis eventually pulling himself from you to find a cloth, not needing his wand to navigate your shared home. Once he returned, he wiped you down with gentle, practiced motions, kissing your skin with an ‘I love you’ every now and then. Once he’d finished, Ominis tossed the cloth into some dark corner of the room, a problem for tomorrow. Laying down, he pulls you into his chest with a pleased sigh, kissing your forehead twice before settling.

You’re both quiet for a long time, Ominis rubbing lazy, contemplative circles between your shoulder blades. The feel of his fingers and the beat of his heart lulling you into near sleep, only interrupted by his quiet voice.

“Marry me.”

Eyes closed, you smile to yourself. So demanding.

“When?”

“Tomorrow.”

You huff in amusement, too tired to do much more. “I’ll owl Anne and Sebastian then.”

His lips stretch into a sweet smile against your forehead.

“I already did.”

#hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt x reader #fanfic #ominis gaunt #romance

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freyito · 11 months

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⎯ ᴋᴇɴꜱʜɪ ᴛᴀᴋᴀʜᴀꜱʜɪ & ᴊᴏʜɴɴʏ ᴄᴀɢᴇ + ᴀ ꜱᴛʀᴇꜱꜱᴇᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

i don't really know what im doing. this is self indulgent. i've been have a really rough time and theres a lot of stress and pressure put on me and i think i may crack? it's not cause of tumblr, i find writing here calming. but hey, i'm moving, im still working on three certs, im worried about college, im writing a book, and im playing therapist to friends.

cw: gn reader, just fluff, proofread

Kenshi Takahashi

Kenshi can feel your stress from a mile away. He doesn't need sight, he doesn't need sento, he doesn't even need to touch you to know. He can see you so clearly in his head, hair messy, eyebrows near constantly furrowed, and just how tense your body really is.

So, when you dodge out of his touch and end up hiding in your room, he doesn't take it to heart. However, he understands. And he will do everything in his power to get you to destress.

He opens the door ever so softly, yet makes sure his presence is known. He reaches out to you, hunched over at your desk, hands hiding your face, your fingers digging into your hair. His hand meets your shoulder, squeezing it gently.

He leans in closer to your ear, and whispers for you to come to bed with him. When you refuse his request, he's a bit more firm. He doesn't demand that you join him, no, but you can hear the traces of longing and concern in his voices.

Once he's convinced you, he leads you to the bed. He's memorized the layout of the house, don't worry. He won't ask questions, he won't press for any answers. All he knows is you're stressed and overworking yourself, and that's cause enough to pull you away.

Kenshi prefers to give you a massage, not only does it work out the knots of your body, but he believes it is a great way to destress by being close to the one you love. He works his way down your body, kissing the nape of your neck when he reaches your waist.

Once he's sure he's gotten all the stress out of your body, he finally cuddles up to you. He wraps his hands around your waist and pulls you close, burying his head in the crook of your neck. He refuses to let you leave his arms. You need sleep, and he's going to make sure you get it. And don't even think you can slink away from him in the morning, he's going to pull you right back into his arms.

Johnny Cage

Johnny can't let you get away with sulking, he needs to see you relax, stress free. Seeing you messed up (and not cause of him), it makes his heart hurt. Of course, he understands. He's got a bad habit of overworking himself, too.

But, he isn't going to let you hide from him. Don't think for a second that you can get away with that. Before you can even run into your (shared) room to hide away, he whisks you off your feet.

Don't even think you can convince him to let you down, either. Nope. You're stuck with him now. And what is he going to do? Funny you asked, he's already ordered your favorite food, and he's got your favorite movie queued up. And one of his own.

If he could tie you to the bed to make sure you couldn't escape, he would. Fortunately, his mind is a lot sounder. And he knows your going to stay and wait with him for the food to arrive. Meanwhile, he's trying to get you to talk. About anything. He just wants to hear your voice, really.

Johnny doesn't leave your side. Once. He's dragging you along to go get the food with him, and he's holding your hand during dinner. So what, he's having a hard time cutting his food? He doesn't care. He needs to know you're still with him, not only is it grounding for him, it's meant for you, too.

After dinner, he's already on drawing a bath for you. (and for him, c'mon, he has to!) He's thrown in whatever he can think of- Epsom salt, bath foam- and lights some candles. He tries to make it look all romantic, with rose petals scattered in the bath and around it, too. You can feel just how proud of himself he is when he carries you to the bath. Which, is also a non-negotiable.

Johnny doesn't care if you've reached the height of relaxation after the bath, either. Nope, he's made sure your schedule is cleared for the next week, at least. He condemns you to stay with him, he'll take you wherever you'd like. All the fancy restaurants you could eat at. Or, if you'd rather just stay home alllll week, he doesn't mind that either. As long as he gets to stay with you.

#*ੈ✩ freyito #mortal kombat 1 x reader #mortal kombat x reader #johnny cage x reader #kenshi takahashi x reader #mk x reader #mk1 x reader

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fluorescentbalaclava · 5 months

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In honour of the playtest of Hades 2 an Ate I did in the style of the game!

"(She) that blindeth all—a power fraught with bane; delicate are her feet, for it is not upon the ground that she fareth, but she walketh over the heads of men, bringing men to harm, and this one or that she ensnareth."

In the Argonautica, Hera says that "even the gods are sometimes visited by Ate".

Ate is the greek goddess of mischief, delusion, ruin, and blind folly, rash action and reckless impulse who led men down the path of ruin. She was considered the personification of ruin. According to Hesiod (Theog. 230), a daughter of Eris, and according to Homer (Il. xix. 91) of Zeus.

I personally made her like Eris, and like her grandmother Nyx, with soooome details of Zeus.

Ate appears in a story in the Iliad, where it is told how she came to be thrown out of Olympus, and never permitted to return. Zeus held Ate to blame for blinding him to Hera's trickery which resulted in the loss of the birthright Zeus intended for his son Heracles: to be lord over the Argives. As punishment, an enraged Zeus:

"seized Ate by her bright-tressed head, wroth in his soul, and sware a mighty oath that never again unto Olympus and the starry heaven should Ate come, she that blindeth all. So said he, and whirling her in his hand flung her from the starry heaven, and quickly she came to the tilled fields of men. At thought of her would he ever groan, whenso he beheld his dear son in unseemly travail beneath Eurystheus' tasks."

Homer, Iliad 9. 498 ff :

"The very immortals can be moved; their virtue and honour and strength are greater than ours are, and yet with sacrifices and offerings for endearment, with libations and with savour men turn back even the immortals in supplication, when any man does wrong and transgresses. For there are also the Litai (Litae, Prayers), the daughters of great Zeus, and they are lame of their feet, and wrinkled, and cast their eyes sidelong, who toil on their way left far behind by the spirit of Ruin (Ate): but she, Ate (Ruin), is strong and sound on her feet, and therefore far outruns all Litai (Prayers), and wins into every country to force men astray; and the Litai (Prayers) follow as healers after her. If a man venerates these daughters of Zeus as they draw near, such a man they bring great advantage, and hear his entreaty; but if a man shall deny them, and stubbornly with a harsh word refuse, they go to Zeus, son of Kronos, in supplication that Ate (Ruin) may over take this man, that he be hurt, and punished."

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arminsumi · 1 year

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OUR LAST SUMMER.

五夏 ⋅ reader

PART OF THE 2k SPECIAL: ur fave duos!!

NOTE: yuh this hurt to write 🥹 was solely inspired by that one abba song i'm ngl i listened to it one night and related it to satosugu and cried like a bitch

SUMMARY — You, Suguru and Satoru shared one summer of bliss before everything fell apart

WARNINGS — fluff to angst 👍, love triangle, i think it's gn reader but lmk if there's something not gn thank u!!

WORDCOUNT ≈ 1k

PLAY ME ♪ Our Last Summer

🍒 𝐉𝐚𝐲 ⋅ 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 !

It had been a blisteringly hot summer. Sweat beaded at Suguru’s forehead. The sun forced Satoru’s eyes into a perpetual squint. And you took shelter in the shade of a palm tree – the two boys met you there, when they too decided to take shelter in the shade. The chemistry between you three was explosive, truly chemical; that one of a kind, once in a lifetime kind of friendship that blooms instantly like a timelapse of a flower, that artists and poets try their hand at capturing but mostly fail.

Beach walks were impossible at midday – the sand was so hot that it burned the soles of your feet. If you were riskily treading barefoot, then the boys would take turns carrying you. Satoru carried you bridal style. Suguru carried you on his back. The prior liked to pretend that he was going to throw you into the ocean (and he did a few times…) and the latter liked to steal romantic glances at you.

Come night, you three crammed together in one hotel room. Conversations, debates, arguments, flirting… those all easily carried past the midnight hour. Satoru was the first to pass out, but Suguru being the insomniac of the group managed to stay awake even longer with you. Usually, you fell asleep in the middle of expressing a thought to Suguru, and then woke up the next morning to two bleary blue eyes blinking awake on your left and abyssal black eyes blinking awake on your right. Satoru rolled on top of you and refused to let you leave bed. Suguru smiled and told him to stop crushing you to death.

Breakfasts were met with late attendance – thanks to Satoru taking his sweet time in the bathroom getting ready. Plates piled and spilled with hotel buffet food; Satoru’s plate consisted solely of sweet pastries. The custard Danishes were his favourite. The three of you broke down laughing at your inside joke about him being the custard Danish robber; the three of you couldn’t catch your breaths from how hard you laughed at your own stupid jokes. “He’s at it again!” Suguru snorted, body falling into yours, eyes reduced to strips of pure joy.

Butterflies liked Suguru for some reason. It was awful for him – he was terrified of butterflies, they really creeped him out. During walks around Okinawa, you struggled to keep up with the two giants; Satoru never missed a beat when walking in sync with his best friend. And he also never missed the opportunity to pick on your slowness or size. Suguru would patch up your bruised ego with a well-timed compliment.

When your holiday in Okinawa was drawing to a close, you three decided to cram as much exploration as possible into those three last days. Pulling all-nighters, stargazing, joking around, sharing secrets, kissing as friends until those kisses became something more. The final day of your holiday was spent ascending a hill that overlooked the glittering beaches. Such a picturesque view. One you didn’t dare to capture in a photograph, because that felt disrespectful. It was a beautiful landscape that deserved to live only in the rich world of your memories.

On that grassy hill, in that briny wind, you three thought that the present moment would never end. You held hands. You kissed. Your hands felt warm. Your lips felt tingly. They both looked at you meaningfully.

“Come back to Jujutsu High with us.” You didn’t hesitate to agree, a sparkle in your eyes. No one in your life had ever accepted you as a sorcerer until they came along.

Summer ended…

And the school year began.

In the far future, when you and Satoru would reminisce together as old Jujutsu High teachers to your students, you two would summarize your high school days with very specific memories.

“Remember when we always got caught making out in the classroom, and Yaga chased us down the corridors?”

“ – and we’d loiter around the vending machines. You know, Yuji, Satoru had such a bad sweet tooth even back then. And! He! Stole! My! Lunches! He was a menace!! Don’t deny it, Satoru.”

“What I stole from you in food I repaid in saving your ass. Remember when you almost died? No joke, Megumi, Y/n almost died during that Alleyway Incident – you know that one we talked about? Yeah, that was Y/n. Suguru and I were stronger than Y/n so we always helped – heyyy! I’m just telling the truth!”

“Who was Suguru?”

The smiles dropped from yours and Satoru’s faces. The color drained out of them, too. Just one little name, six little letters, devastated the atmosphere. That’s when the reminiscing ceased abruptly, and Satoru stood up and excused himself to a quiet place. You and him never cried together, only separately – except for on that day.

That day was the first and only day you and Satoru broke down sobbing into each other. Snot dribbled out of your noses. Your eyes puffed up. Your faces felt tightened with the dried tears.

“Suguru, don’t leave. Come back with us to Jujutsu High, we can sort all of this out.”

But he turned and walked away from you and Satoru, disappearing into the crowd of people. You yelled so loudly that you hurt your lungs, “Did our last summer mean nothing to you! What about the memories we’ve made at school together?! Suguru, don’t you walk away from us! Don’t – leave us behind, S-Suguru did it all mean nothing to you?!”

Just like that, three reduced to two. Just you and Satoru. Sat on the steps in heavy, impenetrable silence. Faces planted into your palms. Back curved because you had no energy to sit up straight after such an exhausting cry. You never thought you’d look into Satoru’s eyes and see no light. Over the years, he lightened up – especially when he became a teacher. But you could tell he masked his true expression; a deadpan. The real emotions were forcefully forgotten.

#五夏 #satosugu #angst #satosugu x reader #gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x geto #geto #geto suguru #geto x reader #angst with a sad ending #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you

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brummiereader · 5 days

Text

MASTERLIST PREVIOUS PART

Uptown Girl (Part Nine/ Final Chapter)

Summary: As the gathering of guests in the small bricked church, wait on your stuttering response. Tommy is also left, holding his breath for the finale of his carefully timed plans to come to fruition. Will things pan out as he intended? Or will fate be the ruling decider over the day's events?

Warnings: Language, angst, violence, mutual pining, use of one racial slur.

Word Count: 5500

Fuck, fuck, FUCK...where are they?! Tommy's panicked eyes darted between the large oak doors to you stood at the altar as your stuttering response torturously echoed back to him.

Hands clammy, ears ringing. His heart rattled furiously against its bony enclosure as a surge of adrenaline coursed through his veins. Forcing him onto his feet just as you let your long awaited response slip past your lips.

" I...don't" your wobbly voice answered, head shaking in unison with the internal thoughts that had spurred on your response as Cal's grip on your fingers tightened, crushing them between the pads of his palms.

Rather poor and homeless, you thought to yourself as your answer settled among the many guests attending the supposedly joyous day. The very same answer, you'd be a fool to deny you hadn't already settled your mind on, ever since the day you learned of the promise your father had selfishly made on your behalf.

A life of hard labor suddenly sounded as peaceful, as comforting as the last rays of summer glittering through the technicolour stained windows warming your skin.

Your willingness to take on the burdens of others had finally made way for something you had shown throughout the entirety of your troubled life. Will power. Backed with a shit tonne of your famously brooding stubbornness, of course.

"Now, sweetpea..." Cal's teeth gritted together, pulling you into him like a flimsy rag doll, limp from hours of play as a sudden dread of fear rolled up your spine, eclipsing your renewed confidence as he made his intentions clear.

" Father, proceed" his head snapped towards the cloaked man, brazenly ignoring your protests and the wave of startled gasps from the members of high society watching from the pews.

"I'm sorry sir, but we..."

"I said proceed, goddamit!" Cal's voice snapped with fury, holding you tightly in place when a bellowing voice boomed from the far end of the small chapel, swiftly commanding Cal's attention.

" Enough!" Tommy yelled, hands clasped fiercely onto the back of the wooden bench in front of him. " You heard her. Now, let her go" he warned, his menacing tone of voice accompanied by the two gloomy shadows sat beside him. Teeth baring as they excitedly awaited to draw the blood of any man who dared to pick a fight with them.

"Him?" Cal scoffed as he snapped his eyes back to you, refusing to accept that less than a month's worth of time spent with a cutthroat gangster was enough to sway your mind from a life of unimaginable riches and titles that he had to offer " A gypsy thief?"

As your eyes turned to Tommy, a watery cloud of unspent tears settled in front of your vision as those present waited on your answer for a second time. An answer you found yourself unable to give under the suffocating sea of eyes, drowning you under the pressure of their stares. An answer you would flee from in a flowing stream of taffeta and lace down the aisle you had solemnly walked mere moments ago.

Running past the lure of Tommy's eyes, you crashed through the church doors and away from the answer he waited on berated breath for.

" I think it would be best if we postpone..." the priest turned to the many guests as the heavy tension you had left at the doors of the chapel in your dramatic departure, weaved its way through the sounds of shuffling feet and hushed whispers.

" Wait!" Cal stopped him as he smoothed back the stray hairs, greased with lacquer that had fallen In front of his darkening eyes.

" She just needs a little convincing, is all" his attention narrowed in on the towering wooden doors, sharply turning on his polished heel with an unstoppable determination to have his way.

Unwilling to sit idle, to see for a second time the bruising damage a private conversation with Cal ended in. Tommy stepped over his brothers, rapidly following after the echoes of raised voices that distanced him from you.

"Hold up, gents" Arthur's long body lurched in front of the exit, stopping the two pompous friends of Cal from interfering in the scrap undoubtedly about to take place.

" By the order of who?" Dicky, the son of the notorious butcher of Bordesley Green spat as a heavy hand settled on his shoulder, a quick smirk of enjoyment flashing across its owners face as he looked to his younger brother. Prolonging the schooling of the self-righteous twat in front of him on just who he was up against.

" By order of the Peaky fucking Blinders. That's who"

Dragging your body outside, you let your gasping lungs inhale the welcome chill of Autumn approaching as you let the weight of your body rest against the hood of one of the many cars lined up along the browning hedgerow.

Finally, it was over. Your refusal of marriage made known to all those present. For if god was your witness, then so were they. And soon the joyful chattering of gossip would rapidly make its way among high society. With tales of Cal's abhorrent temper unmasked under the watchful eye of the almighty and all those attending.

" Please, just a moment" you briefly looked up to the sound of concerned footsteps making their way across the cemented ground as you rested your trembling hand on your heaving chest. But concern was far from what was coming your way.

Within a blink of an eye, you felt the full force of Cal's body slamming you into the car. His fingers wrapping tightly around your throat.

" You little bitch!" he seethed through gritted teeth, releasing the shame, the anger he felt for having been shown up in front of the many noble faces of high society he deemed more important than the sentiments of the woman he was supposedly in love with.

"You dare to show me up? Me?!" he spat, inches from your face as his fingers curled around your throat.

" Cal..." you mumbled, desperately scrambling for air as you watched the dimming rays of sun cower behind the looming frightful sight in front of you.

" Now, we're going to go back in there. And you're going to tell everyone how you were overcome with a touch of the old cold feet. Ok sweetpea?" he squeezed his fingers around the protruding veins of your neck, impatient for your response his ignorance and straining grasp hadn't realised he was delaying.

"No..." you wept, furiously shaking your head as your hands searched for something, anything to hinder him from squeezing the last breaths of life you so desperately wanted to live.

" When will you understand, Y/N. I always get my..."

His damning words were abruptly delayed as you felt his body being pulled off you, his grip releasing from your neck through searing gashes as his nails dragged along your reddening skin.

With dazed eyes, and rattling lungs, you pulled yourself up to the sound of feet shuffling along the gritted ground, bodies grappling in a bloody fight, dulling out the ringing in your ears. Tommy.

"Lard" Arthur noted, pointing at the neatly curled moustache sported by one of Cal's lackeys as he internally weighed up who had the mightiest tash of whiskers out of the two of them.

" I beg your pardon?" the gentlemen's brows scrunched with insult that he, a man of such standing would use a kitchen staple intended for the roasting of spuds on his pampered face.

"To keep the strays in place" Arthur replied, smoothing down his own perfectly trimmed moustache with the pads of his fingers.

" Lanolin" the pompous man turned his head up and away from the gangster and his accompanying guard dog keeping a strong hold on the church doors.

" Beggars can't be choosers" Arthur sniffed as he straightened his tailored suit, raising his chin above his competition. Still bloody taller.

" At least he doesn't smell like Aunt Pols Sunday roast though, ay Arthur?" John sniggered, earning him a sharp blow to the side. The toothpick twirling between his teeth, dangerously close to making its way down his throat from the force of his brothers strategically placed knobbly elbow.

" Fuck off, John boy"

"Stop!" You screamed watching Cal and Tommy throw fists at each other, the flaps of their tailored suits casting shadows under their scuffling feet with every dodge of their bodies.

"Tommy, please!" you tumbled forward, trying to calm the rage within him before he left you with the slaughtered image of a dead body sprawled onto a guests' car as he held the upper hand over Cal. His gun swiftly pulled from its holster, now firmly nestled into the neck of his opponent.

" Y/N, back!" He pushed you away from the line of fire with his free hand. Bloody knuckles staining your ivory gown as his finger squeezed around the beckoning lull of the trigger, seconds from blowing a bullet through Cal's skull.

" Mr Shelby?" A meek voice broke Tommy away from his gory endeavor as you turned in unison to see a veiled woman holding the hand of a dark haired tot, tearfully sobbing through her wobbling bottom lip.

"Can't hear anything" John mumbled with his ear pressed up against the wooden doors as a small crowd of inquisitive eyes gathered around him.

" It's gone quiet" Arthur smirked to his brother, satisfied the grave Tommy had personally dug that morning would soon be filled with the body of the bastard that had delayed his punishment in the back alleys of Small Heath.

" Perhaps an ambulance is warranted?" One of Cal's acquaintances stepped forward before swiftly being pushed back into his rightful place in the newly established pecking order, void of status and wealth but instead, muscle and crazed instability.

" Are you doubting my brother's ability to get the job done, ay?" Arthur squared up to the mumbling man, offended by the mere suggestion that a Shelby, reared from fighting stock would acquire backup to take down one lone man.

" Wha...?" the pompous prick replied, suddenly realising that the only call worthy of being made was that to the foreboding sound of a horse-drawn hearse.

"Alright, alright! Give us some space. Bloody hell" John rolled his shoulders as the many guests pushed forward, eager to see the gruesome sight like the jeering crowds that waited on the ax mans delivering blow from times before.

" Anybody would think they've never seen a scrap before!" John shouted over the murmurs and growing excitement as he looked to his brother.

" Well, brother..." Arthur's smile deepened into a mischievous grin as he pushed the doors open, freeing the crowd like a King would his loyal subjects. " '...'ave at it boys and girls!"

"Tommy? What's going on?" Your eyes darted from the small child's whimpers to Tommy lowering his gun as he released his grip from around Cal's collar.

Plagued with his own childhood horrors, he'd be damned to inflict such nightmares on another innocent mind caught in the cross fire between the affairs of adults, their fragile minds were too young to understand.

" Y/N, meet Jayne. Cal's daughter" Tommy pulled away, resting his hands on his knees as he caught his breath.

" Daughter...?" Your brows knitted together, your attention pulled back to the sweet girl standing patiently next to her guardian.

" Our Jayne's only surviving family" the sister from the convent informed you as the sound of the crowds footsteps came to a stop, curious by the unexpected change of events.

" Utter nonsense!" Cal straightened the lapels of his suit as he eyed the rosy cheeked toddler from the corner of his eye. Seething with disdain for the image of himself he saw in her.

" Dear god...she's the spit of you" Johnathan remarked as Cal's head snapped away with a scoff.

" Only surviving family? But her mother...where's her mother?" Your curiosity peaked for the small child and the unusual tale her presence brought as you noted the subtle exchange of glances between Tommy and the woman that cared for her.

" Dead" Tommy straightened his back, his eyes snapping to the gulping man whose hidden lies, now held the attention of all those present.

" Found strangled to death in her bedsit two years ago, with her newborn daughter screaming in her bassinet beside her. Cal's daughter" Tommy looked to you as the horror of the childs early life came to light.

"Her murderer stood here, a free man, with us today" Tommy let the darkness that Cal had hidden from his life of riches be known as the sudden realisation that you could have shared the same fate rattled your nerves.

" A troubled life she led, but we are not ones to judge. Little Jayne is in our care now, away from danger" the sister revealed as she caressed the plump cheek of the small child, before her eyes snapped to Cal shuffling away from the growing whispers and stares of those stood watching.

His liking for visiting the back alleys of Birmingham and the service's they had to offer, was now laid bare for all to see. How he had dodged the repercussions of the horrors he had inflicted with the help of his wealth and status, avoiding the deadly drop of the hangman's nose as punishment for the life he taken from a woman few cared for, exposed. His most favourite choice of punishment, brushing down the film of sweat sitting on his forehead, those of the hands he used to squeeze the life from Jaynes' mother.

As Cal's reputation in high society came crashing down around him, so did his body as his widening eyes darted from face to face to the sound of scum and bastard leaving their mouths. All thanks to the strategically placed cane of an elderly woman, intent on seeing him take his fall from grace in a more... physical sense.

" Ever so sorry. Shakey hands" your grandmother looked down past her nose to Cal slumped on the ground at her feet, her fingers as steady as a meadow of flowers on a windless day clutching around the top of her cane.

" Now where in the bloody hell does Meredith think he's going?" Arthur's moustache twitched at the scrambling man, formerly known as Cal, running through the gritted ground away from Arrow House.

" I'll get him" John swiftly pulled out his gun, closing one eye as he honed in on Cal heading for the small pasture of galloping horses.

" Steady on, John! You'll take one of the bloody toffs' heads off" Arthur lowered his brother's revolver as the herd of guests ran forward, keen to see how the day's thrilling events would end.

Stood back, Tommy's eyes drifted to yours. Desperate for your acknowledgment, for you to seek comfort and refuge in him. But as he watched your eyes cast down to your shuffling feet, he was met with the glistening flicker of unspent tears, pooled under your batting lashes. Shit.

" Bloody hell, that horse is as skittish as a Catholic girl on confession day. She'll buck him off" Arthur's eyes narrowed in across the field to Cal precariously sat on your white mare.

" Five says she won't"John put his hand out, keen for the day to not got to waste as he waited for his brother to take the bet.

" Go on then" the two brothers shook on it in a slimy spit-covered pact as serious as any pinky promise.

Gripping onto the ivory mane of your horse, Nelly violently bucked with her hind legs as Cal desperately tried to control her erratic movements. The crowd of people that had gathered by the rickety wooden fence, encouraging the theatrical display with waving hands and hurling cheers until she delivered one mighty kick, throwing Cal off head first into the muddied ground below him.

With a satisfied flare of her nostrils, notorious Nelly gave one last boot into the face of her unwanted rider for good measure before happily trotting off to join the others grazing.

" 'ere" John relented, pulling five coppers from his pocket to a gloating Arthur.

" Five bleeding shilling!" Arthur looked down at the jingling coins in his hand, expecting the feeling of crisp pound notes to warm his fingers.

" Tit" Arthur mumbled, smacking the back of his younger brother's shaved head as the crowd's laughter grew to a roaring thunder at the sight of Cal, muddy and dazed, slumped in the grass feet from them.

Stood away from the crowd, their echos of laughter, their grinning smiles of amusement tapered back to you. Your life had been turned into a circus, on display for the enjoyment of others.

Pulling up the dragging ends of your dress, you turned and leave, running from the laughter of those who would soon be gossiping about the pitiful life you led during their afternoon luncheons in the most prestigious of tearooms.

" Y/N!" Tommy called after you, watching the cascade of tears that you had desperately kept from the peering eyes of others, trickle down your cheeks.

Shit, shit, shit, Tommy thought to himself as he ran after the rippling ends of your muddied dress, suddenly realising he had taken it one step too far in his fondness for a dramatic conclusion.

" Darling..." Tommy's feet came to a stop behind you, his hands gently cupping your waist as you sought solitude behind the small bricked chapel away from the lingering sounds of laughter.

" Go away, Tommy!" You snapped your head back to him as he raised his hands in surrender. Carelessly brazen enough to approach you without precaution like he would with your jittery horse that shared your guarded nature.

" Y/N, I'm sorr.."

"I'm glad you all find this funny. My life, the grand finale to your finishing act" you cut off his intended apology, pulling the netted veil from your head, the pearl necklace from around your neck through frustrated sobs." Would you like me to get up and dance for you all too?"

" Hey, c'mere" Tommy sighed as he tested the waters with an apprehensive step in your direction, unable to withstand the upsetting sight he was responsible for.

" No!" You snapped back, unapologetic with your adamant refusal to be comforted by the day's event and the harrowing fate that could have awaited you if your response had been two letters short.

" No, Tommy. Not this time " you shook your head, watching the hurt of your rejection pull down the corners of his eyes as you turned to leave. Shunning him out like he had done to you without the slightest possibility for reconciliation.

" Don't fret dear, she'll come around" Grannie made her presence known as she turned the corner to see the internal battle Tommy was inflicting upon himself as he watched you leave.

" I'm not so sure, Dowager" he turned back to see the gentle smile, creased with fine lines of wisdom greeting him.

" Call me, Grannie" she placed her cane in front of her, slowly stepping towards a man whose fractured heart had taken another self-imposed blow.

" I'm afraid she comes from a long line of stubbornness, Mr Shelby. Best let that steam cool off, or I'm afraid you may get burnt. And nobody likes the sting of that" she patted his arm, drawing his attention away from you marching down the dusty path his longing eyes desperately wanted to follow after.

"That was quite the finish, Mr Shelby. Are you sure you're not classically trained?" your grandmother teased, earning her the boyish smirk of amusement she had grown fond of.

" Not too much, then?" Tommy's eyes playfully asked as he gave her his arm to take, leading her back to the ruckus you had fled from.

" Goodness no. What's life without a little show, hm?" Grannie giggled as a loud wave of cheers came from the enclosed paddock.

" Seems we're not so different after all" your grandmother nodded to John sat on Nelly riding her one handed like a bucking bronco as Arthur worked the cheering crowds collecting bets.

" Five shillings says she kicks him off" Grannie turned to the grinning gangster with her hand out, lightening the heavy mood that shadowed above you both.

" You're on"

Sat back at your brooding spot in the bay window of your grandmother's cottage, you watched as the maple tree in front of her house disheveled its crisp leaves from its branches one by one into a high enough heap to jump in to, in a fit of giggles. But laughter had escaped you for more than eight weeks since Tommy dramatically exposed Cal's secret. And although you were safe from ever feeling his heavy hand strike you again, you let yourself slip into your solemn thoughts, relentlessly mulling over what had been unearthed.

Cal was gone. His life ended by Tommy with a bullet through his head. Buried by his hand in a six-foot deep hole in an unmarked grave. His name forgotten for an eternity. No flowers laced in tears sitting beside his earthy tomb. And like everything in your life, you were faced with an unexpected twist of fate.

Arrogantly bold enough to assume you would be his wife, Cal had prematurely signed his estate over to you until you birthed a son.

A child that never came to be, a demise quicker than expected, you were left with his thousands and the harrowing reminder of the young child he had fathered. Jayne.

Relinquishing the hefty sum of money left in your name, you forwent a life of unimaginable riches, and set up a trust fund for the orphaned child in the hope she would be able to carve her own future, free from the ruling hands of greedy men.

But with all matters settled, one still occupied your every waking breath. Tommy.

" Speak of the devil!" Grannie announced, suspiciously in tune with your internal thoughts of melancholy as she turned her head to the sound of a Bentley steadily driving up to her gated home.

" Right on time" she giggled as you flew up from your seat, eyes darting in a frantic panic to the weathered window.

" Into the closest she goes!" she teased as you hurried passed her, making a beeline for your trusted hiding space in the cramped hallway. A spot you had cowered yourself in each week over the past two months.

"Mr Shelby" Grannie opened the door, the gentle autumn breeze bringing notes of whisky and tobacco, with a handful of ribbon tied hydrangeas along with it.

" Grannie" he greeted her, kissing her cheek in a loving familiarity as his eyes searched behind her for a sign of you.

" Y/N?" He sighed, questioning your whereabouts as you battled with a precariously placed broom beside you in the darkened room, the door ajar enough to see the shine of his blue eyes longing for a glimpse of you.

" Indisposed I'm afraid" your grandmother gave the disappointing weekly response he'd become accustomed to.

" In the closest" she quietly mouthed, rolling her eyes as Tommy's darting gaze met yours through the thin line of light. Taking you aback enough for you to stumble into the aged broom with a thud. Oh, bollocks.

" Tell her I came by" Tommy left the bouquet of flowers in the hands of your grandmother, his pining eyes still firmly fixed on the shadow of your body behind the door.

" You have my word" your Grannie patted his hand before he turned to leave with one last glimpse of your batting eyes through the rays of sun shining through the glass-framed door he'd opened.

Never staying for long. Never intruding into your life without your welcome. Tommy would make the long drive to your Grans home in Cheltenham, arriving on the dot at exactly 12.05 every Friday.

Like a delivered telegram, like a small hello. He made it his weekly routine to show you how much he still longed to have you back in his life. How much he missed you.

" No sense in hiding anymore, dear. Your inherited clumsiness gave it away" your grandmother shut the front door, turning to see the irritated pout sitting on your lips.

" For you" she handed the freshly picked bouquet of flowers, you ceremoniously tossed in the bin along with the others.

" My sweet summer child, sit with me" Grannie sighed, ushering you to her favourite armchair beside the window of her garden.

" Before you say anything, it will never work" you stopped the words of advice your stubbornness was intent on ignoring.

" I don't even like him...that much" you started to ramble, releasing the many excuses you had convinced yourself of one by one to your grandmother's stuttering lips as she tried to get a word in. " He's so pig headed, so cocky. So..so stubborn!"

" Stubborn?" your grandmother raised her brow, a pursed smile of amusement for the characteristic he shared with you. " You're more alike than you care to realise, my dear"

" I'm nothing like him. We come from two completely different worlds, Grannie" you crossed your arms, blowing the lock of hair from in front of your eyes as you fell back into your seat like a stroppy child. " God, why won't he just let me be..."

" That's where you're wrong, my dear" Grannie leaned forward, taking your hand.

" I have a confession" she whispered. An urgent enough secret that she felt it best said in a hushed voice to you, the only person within close proximity to her home, if not miles from the nearest sign of life. " We're counterfeits"

" Counterfeits?' you voiced louder than intended as you scooted forward in your plush seat.

" Good heavens, child. Do you want the whole of the county to hear?" she scolded you and your rolling eyes as she returned to her story

" His name was Jack. Known to some as, Jack the lad from Digbeth" she divulged into her past, reliving her younger years through the memories she cherished.

" A strapping stable boy who worked on my father's land. We had taken a fancying to each other, and after a summer's night in 1847 I found myself in a rather troublesome ballooning predicament.

" Grannie..." your cheeks blushed, hearing the details of your grandmother's risky teen years hidden behind the prudishness she had shown throughout her entire adult life.

" Don't think I don't know how my favourite afternoon treat was void of its jammy filling, dear" her brows raised, reddening your cheeks to the same shade of her favourite jelly before returning to the tales of her younger years.

" He asked me to marry him, said we'd run away together and join the fair...a hopeless romantic. Of course, when my father caught wind of our plans, my Jack was banished from the home, and I was quickly arranged to marry into a noble family before my growing secret revealed itself before my wedding night" she finished, feeling a pang of sadness for her long-lost love she'd never see again and the son they shared, your father.

" My dear, we're not of blue blood, not even a hint of turquoise" she wrapped her fingers around your young hands, free from the wrinkles that creased hers.

"You come from the same cobbled streets of the man whose heart and your own you're breaking. Fate brought you together, my child. Best not to piss it off with your shared stubbornness and start off on the wrong foot, dear. Bygones be bygones, hm? She sent you a gentle smile of encouragement as your brain scrambled to reevaluate your life after yet another exposed secret.

A family of commoners. The most freeing of revelation you could have ever discovered. Not only were you free of Cal, you were free of the restraints high society held on you. Free to love and live the way you wanted, with the man you wanted. If you would let your bullheadedness be buried with the troubled past you still held on to, of course.

"Easy girl" Tommy brushed his hand along the mane of your horse, calming her jittery nerves when something, or rather, someone caught his attention in the dark orbs of her eyes.

As the smell of your sweet perfume filled his senses, the sound of your heels clicking along the cobbled stable floor sang in his ears. His hand, unsteady as your horse's temper, rested on her back, fingers rising with each calming, heavy breath she took.

"Am I in hell?" He teased, the curling lilt of his black country accent heard through the small smile of playfulness on his lips as he stood with his back to you.

Slowly approaching, you rested your hand gently on his coated arm as his shoulders relaxed in response to the comforting feeling of your touch. Only for the skin prickling reaction to be swiftly snatched away when you poked him in the ribs shortly after.

"Nope. Still alive" Tommy grunted, a hint of a throaty laugh heard through his wincing breath.

" Hey" his voice pattered out upon seeing your radiating beauty, his eyes had gone too long without gazing upon as he turned around.

"Hi" you quietly replied, apprehensive as to how he'd take your sudden appearance back into his life you'd hidden yourself away from for two months.

"You came home" his lips softened into a loving smile as he stepped towards you, desperate to pull you into him.

" Is it my home, Tommy?" Your eyes lowered, darting with every quickened breath back up to his gaze as he took in the fading sun's glittering film of light on your wind-nipped cheeks.

"Ours" he soothed the redness from your skin as his thumb brushed over the slopes of your face down to your plump lips as an unknowing silence of how things would pan out, settled between your bodies.

" New horse?" Tommy broke the quietness hovering over you both, lightening the mood before a heavy discussion of hurt feelings ensued.

For now, he wanted to bask in the moment as you stood in unison with him. And with your relieved sigh of acknowledgment to the black stallion stood outside the stables, he was reassured to know that you too, welcomed the distraction. Let bygones be bygones, as your Gran would say.

" Moody looking thing, what's his name?" Tommy led you forward for introductions, resting his hand on the slope of your back.

" Tommy. And I ride him every day" the corners of your smiling lips turned into an amused grin as a scoffing laugh loudly responded to your choice of name.

" Tommy, eh? Sorry mate, but we can't have that. I'm gonna have to steal your girl back" he patted down the muscled body of your stallion before guiding your giggles outside to the front of Arrow House.

"Still in tact, I see" you looked up at the bricks of your childhood home, feeling his eyes roam over your face, hand holding you tightly next to him. " Seems you managed fine without me"

" The house hasn't been the issue" Tommy turned you to face him as your hands brushed up his chest, fingers curling around the lapels of his tailored jacket.

" It's me. I've been bored. Got me gardening, it's been that bad" he revealed his newly-founded hobby as your eyes drifted down to the potted flower, miserably limp with a stubbed out cigarette in its earthy soil.

"Goodness, going well I see" an amused smile for the green thumb he didn't inherit from his Aunt pulled at your lips as you felt him raise your eyes to meet him, his thumb hooked gently under your chin.

"No more avoiding me, sweetheart" His fingers brushed along your skin, cupping your cheek in his hand as he searched for reassurance that things wouldn't slip into how the past two months had panned out.

"Especially not in closets, eh?" he teased as you matched his toying smile, closing your eyes as he pressed his smiling lips into yours in a tender embrace.

" I lov.." you both stumbled to give your confessions of loyalty as you broke apart.

" Ladies first" Tommy shot you a wink, his playful response echoing the moments you had spent together in blissful torment of each other.

" I love you" the three-worded confession slipped past the draw bridge of stubbornness you had lowered to welcome him back in.

" I love you too"

Pulled into the warmth of his chest, an intoxicating sense of calm and comfort pulsed through your bodies.

For as the saying goes, home is where the heart is. And your hearts had finally found a home, in each other. Always.

The end.

Thank you to everyone that commented, reblogged and liked this series. Your interactions helped me finish this final, long awaited chapter. I'd love to hear your thoughts on the ending in the comments below! Thank you again, my lovelies ❤️.

Brummie xxx

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mymoodwriting · 6 days

Text

Royal Blood

Female!Reader x Alpha!Seonghwa

Genre: A/B/O, Royalty

Warning: Isolation, Illness, Medication, Abuse, Verbal Abuse, Physical Abuse, Anxiety, Social Anxiety, Tears, Thoughts of Death, Thoughts of Suicide, Loneliness, ABO Dynamics, Suppressants, Scent Blockers

Words: 5.3K

Chapter One

(//Next) (@starillusion13)

Prompt: You were a princess in name alone. Unable to perform any of the duties that come with the title. It seemed to be your destiny to live a quiet life. That is until you met someone who refused to see you silenced. Perhaps your fate was wrong all along.

A/N: A new story for Ateez! Please show it lots of love!

“It’s morning, Princess. Time to wake up.”

A gentle sigh escaped your lips as you slowly opened your eyes. You could vaguely make out the sounds of birds chirping outside your window, a soothing little melody to help you welcome the new day. You sat up and did a bit of stretching, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You looked around your room, the only few things that you could call your own. It was the same old stuff from before, nothing ever changed for you. A moment later you were up on your feet, one of your two court ladies helping you dress while the other tidied your room. Your breakfast was served and you ate until you felt full. Then came your medicine. It had a horrendous taste, but was necessary for your health. After drinking that you were left alone.

Most of your life had been confined to this room. The only exception was your evening walk and the family gatherings held in the King’s quarters. Two court ladies waited on you, as well as an eunuch, but they spent most of the day running errands around the palace unless you called on them. In all honesty you rarely called on any of your servants. Besides their basic duties of escorting you around the palace, bringing you your meals, and preparing you for the day, there wasn’t much else they did. Being part of your entourage was probably the easiest job in the palace. For the most part you also dismissed your ladies in the morning, and they only returned to fulfill their daily tasks.

You lived a very solitary life ever since you were old enough to be left alone. It wasn’t entirely by choice, but you understood why you had to stay in your quarters. You were born ill, and it wasn’t something you could recover from. You took medicine daily to maintain what little of your health you had, and you stayed hidden from everyone else for that same reason. You had taken up many things to fill your days. You knew how to embroider, to paint, but unfortunately you could never take up music or dance. It was better to be quiet and not do anything that could cause you injury. Or in better terms, you shouldn’t do anything that could draw attention to yourself. Everyone knew the royal family was ashamed of you, and for the most part you shared in those sentiments. The rumors around the palace were always the same.

“It’s hard to believe the Princess is of royal blood. Everyone would believe she’s illegitimate if not for the fact she’s the Crown Prince’s twin. I suppose since the Crown Prince is so strong and perfect, his twin must be the embodiment of all his weaknesses.”

The royal family has always been known to be strong, every offspring, and every in-law. Any sort of weakness in the royal family was unheard of, so your birth was seen as a bad omen. You were still of royal blood, so they weren’t going to outright kill you. Instead they chose to keep your existence hidden. Not many outside the palace knew a Princess existed, and even some inside had no idea either. As far as they knew, you were just the daughter of some high ranking official, and you weren’t around long enough for them to realize otherwise. Sometimes you wondered why you even bothered to stay alive.

You weren’t exactly in a mood to do anything this morning, so you sat next to your window and looked out at your little garden. You did well to look after your plants, growing flowers and a few vegetables, but they weren’t for you to eat. With your garden so full of color and variety it welcomed other creatures to stop by and keep you company. You got to provide food for butterflies and bees, as well as birds and bunnies. It was nice to watch them come to your garden, but also bittersweet. They lived freely, coming and going as they pleased. You longed for something like that, but the chains that kept you in place ran through your blood.

After lunch you went on your walk. You didn’t go so far from your quarters, so it was a simple stroll through the royal garden, and a little walk around the palace. You walked the same path everyday, and as always kept to yourself. Occasionally you’d get a few glances your way, and heard some whispering about you, but no one ever approached you. They were either busy, or knew better than to engage with you. Not that you’d respond, you didn’t want to socialize with others either. That’s why it was important to walk with some sense of purpose, even if it was just to get back to your quarters. That way you appeared busy, which was another reason for someone not to bother you. At least that’s what usually worked.

“Hello, my lady.”

A gentleman suddenly stepped in front of you, blocking your path. He smiled kindly and offered you a bow. By the style of his clothes, you could tell he was a lord, but certainly not a familiar one. Since he was speaking to you, he was probably new to the palace and had no idea who you were.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The lord reached for your hand, but you took a quick step back. In the process you lost your footing and fell to the ground. He asked if you were alright, and attempted to help you to your feet, but you only scrambled back. Tears stung your eyes as you knew your mother would hear about this whole embarrassment of a situation and scold you for it. On top of that you just felt so pathetic.

“Lord Park!”

One of the guards came over and pulled the other away from you. The lord looked confused, but he was pushed back as the guard stepped forward and bowed.

“Apologies, your Highness.”

“Highness?”

“Lord Park is new to the palace and I am to escort him to his father. He escaped from my sight for a moment. Please forgive me for my failures. It won’t happen again.”

You didn’t respond verbally, but when the guard looked up you nodded to him. He bowed once more before grabbing the lord and taking him elsewhere. You took a moment to steady your breath before attempting to get up. It wasn’t exactly easy given that you were already nervous, so you asked your ladies to help you up. Once you were back on your feet your ladies dusted you off before you continued on your way. You asked them to help you with a change of clothes, knowing what was coming next.

“Your Highness, your presence is requested at the King’s quarters.”

“The King…”

Your nerves went up tenfold when your eunuch came to deliver the news, although you weren’t sure to be afraid or glad. The King never requested your presence, so this was a first. You made sure you were presentable and made your way over. Your arrival was announced and once you stepped inside you realized the real reason for your presence. The King hadn’t requested you, this was just an impromptu meeting of the royal family. Any positive feelings you had about the situation subsided and you bowed before taking your seat next to the Queen.

Across from you the Crown Prince sat, and he smiled at you when you arrived. You offered him a smile back, but merely kept your head down and remained quiet. A conversation had been going on before you arrived, and you only interrupted for a moment. Your presence didn’t change anything, so the others continued speaking as before. One of the court ladies served you some tea, but you weren’t entirely in a mood. These little gatherings never really involved you, so it was certainly pointless to invite you. Although you were a member of the royal family so your physical presence was required.

“Mother, I’ve told you, it’s too early to speak of marriage.” The Crown Prince said. “I have yet to begin my studies to inherit the throne.”

“All the more reason. You need a Crown Princess to help you begin your duties as King.”

“Father hasn’t even spoken of abdicating the throne. And even then, my marriage is not a condition to be King.”

“There are plenty of young and beautiful ladies to choose from.” The King mentioned. “It wouldn’t be a bad idea to start looking at your options.”

“Father!”

The room erupted into laughter, and you merely smiled to yourself for a moment. Talks of the Crown Prince’s marriage had been going around for a while now. The Queen brought it up any chance she got, especially during these gatherings. Today seemed to mark the day the King finally joined in on that topic of conversation.

“You bring up a good point my son. I do believe it is time for you to begin the most important studies for the throne.”

“And your Crown Princess can study her duties as the future Queen and your wife.” The Queen added. “It’d be wonderful.”

Even though you felt invisible, and were mostly unwanted, there was still a part of you that wanted recognition. Or at least some sort of acknowledgement.

“Congratulations on your ascension and engagement, Crown Prince. The entire nation will be overjoyed by the news. I promise to do my best with my duties as a Princess to assist you.”

“Nothing’s official.” The Crown Prince spoke with a shy smile. “Simply speaking of it here doesn’t put anything in motion.”

“Nonsense.” The Queen stated. “I will send out a message in the morning to begin your search for a wife.”

“Mother!”

“Let the boy begin his studies and focus on the throne first.” The King interrupted. “A King serves the nation before anyone else. We can talk of marriage once he understands what the throne truly means.”

“Thank you, Father.”

“Let us meet tonight in the Crown Prince’s library. I have something to give you.”

“Of course, Father.”

The rest of the meeting continued on as it usually did. Despite speaking, no one cared for what you said, and you knew it was foolish to speak to begin with. You were the first to excuse yourself, leaving them to speak more freely, but to your surprise a moment later the Queen stepped out, coming over to speak with you. For a second there you thought you had escaped, but nothing got past the Queen.

“You made a fool of yourself today.”

“…”

“Your duties as a Princess?” The Queen scoffed. “You are a Princess in name alone. You are not capable of fulfilling any duties the title actually comes with. Do not expect to assist the Crown Prince with anything regarding his ascension to the throne, or marriage.”

“I understand…”

“Do you? Or did you already forget about your earlier embarrassment? You can’t even act like a proper lady in front of a lord.”

“I… I’m sorry… I-”

“I don’t want to hear it. Is it really that difficult not to draw attention to yourself?”

“Apologies, your Majesty. I won’t cause a scene again.”

You bowed to the Queen as she went on her way, not moving until she and everyone from her entourage were out of sight. You took a deep breath to hold back your tears and then retreated to your quarters. Your court ladies were about to begin undressing you when the Crown Prince arrived. You welcomed him into your quarters, taking your proper seat and keeping your head low.

“What brings you by, Crown Prince?”

“You know I hate when you talk to me like that, y/n. It’s just us here, the least you can do is drop the titles.”

You slowly lifted your gaze, seeing the childish smile on your brother’s face. You couldn’t help but mimic it.

“I wasn’t expecting you, Yunho. You don’t usually visit me after family gatherings, you and the King tend to talk for a while longer.”

“He wants to talk to me later, so I thought I’d bless you with my presence now.”

You chuckled. “Thank you.”

“Anything for my precious baby sister.”

“I’m like a minute younger than you.”

“Which means I’m a minute older, and that makes you my little sister.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love me for it.” Yunho giggled. “So, tell me about your day. I heard you ran into a lord. How was that?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.”

“Come on, tell me, was he handsome? Or perhaps cute? Did he stutter talking to you?”

“Stop it.”

“I wanna know.”

“Well, I fell to the ground and couldn’t speak a word. One of the guards apologized to me and pulled him away. It was just embarrassing.”

“Ouch. That doesn’t mean he won’t try again.”

“As if. He surely knows all about me now and knows to stay away. Besides, it’s not like I’m going to find someone and marry anytime soon.”

“Why not?”

“You haven’t even gotten married yet. There’s no way I’d marry before you. The Queen would never allow it.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do. You do too. So don’t play coy.”

“Alright. Let’s change the subject then. How are you doing lately? Any interesting updates?”

“Doesn’t my physician tell you everything about my health?”

“What? Yeosang, would never tell me such things.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

“I would like to hear from you. How have you been feeling?”

“Nothing’s changed, Yunho. My condition is the same. No claws, no fangs, my eyes don’t even change color.”

“I’m certain they’ll come in any day now.”

“That’s unlikely. In my state, I’m just lucky to be alive.”

“Don’t talk like that.”

“It’s true. I’m not strong like you, not at all. You’re all grown up and ready to take on the throne, whereas I… I can’t be away from my quarters for too long.”

“You’re gonna get better. Yeosang tells me medicine is always advancing and-”

“I’d just like to live long enough to see you ascend the throne and marry. That would be enough for me.”

“Nonsense. You’ll live far longer than that. You have to be around to meet your future nephews and nieces.”

“We’ll see.”

“It is getting late, so I’ll let you get to bed. Good night.”

“Good night, Yunho.”

As far as you knew the only person who cared about you in the palace was your twin brother, Yunho. From an early age he was separated from you, he was the Crown Prince after all. Yet he made an effort to see you and play with you. He never said anything to your face, but you had heard the rumors all before. Everyone had been telling him not to engage with you, fearing he’d grow ill as well. Of course that’s not how your illness worked, but he didn’t seem to care either way. He was also told that he didn’t have to see you, it wouldn’t make him any less of a King if he did, but to him you were his sister and he wanted to be with you. Even though he sees you less nowadays, he still makes time for you and he treats you as his sister, and nothing less.

Of course all of that was made more complicated considering pack dynamics. The Crown Prince was an alpha, as was the King and Queen. It always had to be that way. Although despite the royal family being predominantly alphas, there were a few betas here and there, like yourself. For the most part the betas were just as strong and powerful, but clearly you were an outlier. As for everyone else who served the royal family, or the nation, they were either an alpha or beta since omegas were forbidden from entering the palace. They were the weakest of all, and could certainly cause problems, so in order to maintain peace and safety, they were not allowed.

There were other means of keeping balance as well. Everyone wore a necklace to help suppress their scent, the royal family included, and the same went for any guests. That way no one would be distracted by anothers’ pheromones. Furthermore, when necessary one would be excused from their duties to deal with heat and rut cycles. That is if they chose not to take suppressants. The palace was well organized so there was rarely any sort of problem in regards to one’s own instincts. It honestly seemed redundant for you to wear a necklace to suppress your own scent since it was already so weak, even the suppressants seemed unnecessary, but everyone had to comply with the rules in order to maintain peace.

“How are we doing today, Princess?”

At least once a week a royal physician comes to check on you. Over the years you had gotten friendly with them, now speaking on a first name basis.

“I’m the same, Yeosang. Nothing has changed, nothing ever changes with me.”

“One must always have hope. I believe you’ll get better some day.”

“Well that day cannot come fast enough.” You sighed. “Don’t give Yunho false hope about my condition.”

“What do you mean?”

“I know you report to him about my condition. Don’t tell him I’m getting better or improving when I’m not. He’s gonna start preparing to ascend the throne. He shouldn’t worry about trivial things like my health.”

“Princess.”

“Look after him. That’s the best thing you can do for me.”

“I understand.”

♦♦♥♦♦

Yunho always did his best to fulfill every title he carried. He was the Crown Prince, heir to the throne and future King of this nation. High expectations had been placed upon his shoulders since birth, and he didn’t intend to let anyone down. He was also a son with the desire to make his parents proud, and part of that was making a life of his own. Yunho understood who he was, he knew that marrying for love wasn’t exactly a luxury he had. Still, he could make the most of what he could control. Although he couldn’t forget the other title bestowed upon him. That of an older brother.

It always displeased him to be told he didn’t need to care for his little sister. He understood she was ill, and that others were looking after her, but he couldn’t just ignore them. Even if everyone else did. At the end of the day he loved his sister and wanted to see her find happiness. Lately he hadn’t been able to see her often, and he knew with the abdication of the throne coming up, and potential marriage, he’d see even less of her. He missed his sister at times, missed the days when they were still kids and could play together. Although right now he had great expectations to meet. Perhaps once he became King and was married, when things settled down, he could see her more often. For now he needed to focus on his studies.

The night the King wished to speak with him, Yunho was rather nervous. This was the true beginning of him taking on the throne, and he didn’t want to disappoint anyone. After visiting his sister that evening he made his way to the Crown Prince’s library. There were still so many books he had yet to read, so he was curious what his father wanted to tell him. He waited patiently, reading quietly when the King finally arrived. Since it was just the two of them, and this was more about a father and his son, things were a little more relaxed. At first they made a bit of small talk, but tonight was about bigger things.

“I’m very proud of the man you are becoming.” Yunho’s father spoke. “And I do believe it is time you prepare to take my place.”

“You still have many more years on the throne, father.”

“Perhaps, but I do want you to learn more about our family, and the responsibilities you will come to bear.”

“I understand.”

“Good.”

Yunho watched as his father made his way towards the back of the library. He figured he would recommend a book, but instead he opened a secret passageway, revealing a hidden room in the library. Yunho’s eyes went wide and he followed his father into the new space. More books lined the walls, and a desk was in the center. He could tell many had passed through here before, all the kings before him, and those after him would learn of this place too.

“Woah…”

“This is the Crown Prince’s secret library. These books contain knowledge of our ancestors and our bloodline. Some of this information is unknown to the historians.”

“Unknown?”

“You will come to understand why.”

The King stepped over to the desk, grabbing the book that had been left on it. He looked it over for a moment before handing it to his son.

“Yunho… things are going to change for you from this moment on. I cannot tell you if they will be for better or for worse, as that is something you must decide for yourself.”

“Father…” Yunho stared down at the book in his hands. “I’m…”

“I do not expect you to begin your studies right away. So you may take some time to prepare, but the next steps are upon you. As always you may come to me for guidance.”

“Thank you, Father.”

The King left Yunho in his library, and the boy had much to contemplate. He looked around the hidden room, very curious about the knowledge they pertained. He’d be lying to himself if his father’s words didn’t frighten him, but becoming a king was no easy task. The night was still young, and his own curiosities would not let him rest. Yunho sat down with the book he had been given, wanting to learn more about his family history and the legacy he would uphold.

♦♦♥♦♦

It was easy to get bored when the days were always the same. Although you had gotten used to the uneventful nature of your life. Despite what your court ladies would suggest, you decided to sleep in today. Perhaps your dreams would be more interesting. Unfortunately they weren’t either, but at least sleep helped pass the time. You prepared for your evening walk, rather eager to see the garden. Around this time many of the flowers were blooming, adding to the beauty of the area. You were rather jealous of those flowers. Even if they stayed in one place, at least they didn’t remain the same. They grew and bloomed, changing their colors and shape, beautiful at every point in their lives.

“Princess.”

Hearing your title out in the open was always jarring. You ignored it though, not wanting to presume anyone was talking to you. There was a chance a foreign princess was in the palace, and you were never privy to such knowledge.

“Your highness, please.”

Someone stepped before you, forcing you to stop in your path. They were bowing to you, which was always a strange sight. You wondered who this was until they raised their head. It was the lord from before, Lord Park.

“Apologies for my sudden presence, I wanted to speak with you about our first encounter.”

“…”

“I wanted to properly apologize for my behavior. It was very rude in hindsight, and I suppose what I’m doing right now is as well, but I also want to properly introduce myself. I’m Park Seonghwa, and it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

You took a careful half-step back. The last time Lord Park had spoken to you things ended badly. You understood his intentions, but you had no idea what his end goal was here. Although you were aware of the outfit he wore.

“I’m new to the palace, but I still felt it necessary to meet you. I’ll be working under my father, Minister Park, and look forward to crossing paths again.”

You recognized the name Park when you first heard it, but you weren’t sure if there was a relation. That is until now. The Park family has served the royal Jeong family for generations. Minister Park was the King’s most loyal and trusted advisor, as well as a close friend. The relationship between the two families has always been good, and has served the nation well. You knew the minister had a son that had been sent away to study and learn of the world. Now that son had returned as a man, and would continue to learn and grow under their father. At least now it made sense why Lord Park was making such efforts with you. It was best for him to have good relationships with the royal family, and that included the forsaken princess.

As eager as he sounded, you knew he’d soon learn the truth about your situation. There was no need to engage. That would surely also leave the right impression for him to learn from. You were hidden away for a reason, and things should remain that way. So you said nothing and walked past Lord Park, wanting to return to your quarters and mentally prepare for an unexpected visit from the Queen. Nothing got past her. You could hear the lord still calling to you, probably dumbfounded by your lack of a response, but that wasn’t your concern. Not to mention a moment later you heard someone speaking to Lord Park, scolding him over his interaction with you. Things had to be this way.

At least that’s what you always told yourself. Or perhaps that’s what was always told to you. Either way you accepted it. Once you returned to your quarters you laid down. You really appreciated Lord Park’s intentions earlier, feeling like an actual person, but it was all pointless. It was best to forget about him and move on. Hopefully he’d do the same, or at least get the message your silence invoked. You had your dinner and skimmed through one of your old books, thinking to request something new from the Crown Prince the next time he came by. That reminded you that it would probably be a while before you saw him again. He surely had already begun his studies for the throne, and that would be his top priority.

“The Queen is here.”

You felt yourself grow cold when you heard those words, only stunned for a moment before you got up and greeted the Queen. You already knew what was coming, or perhaps you underestimated your situation. As soon as you raised your head you were met with a slap across the face. You felt the burning throb on your cheek, but you did not move to cradle your injury.

“Is it so difficult to follow a simple command?”

“Apologies, your Majesty.” You bowed. “It was not my intention to cause trouble. The lord approached me on my walk and-”

“Don’t give me excuses. If a simple walk is the issue then just stay in your quarters.”

“What…?” You slowly lifted your head. “What do you me-”

“You have your own little garden here. Since it’s so difficult to not draw attention to yourself you shall remain in your quarters at all times unless you are called upon. Do I make myself clear?”

“Your Majesty-” Your words were met with another slap. “… yes… your Majesty, I understand.”

“The last thing I need is you causing issues when the Crown Prince is preparing for the throne and marriage.”

“Apologies, your Majesty.” You bowed once again. “I won’t be a burden anymore.”

“You still are.”

The Queen left and you remained in your position. It wasn’t until one of your court ladies came to check on you that you finally let yourself collapse. Silent tears had been dripping to the floor, and you soon joined them. With a crack in your voice you dismissed your lady, wanting to be alone. Tears continued to stream down your face, but you didn’t make a sound. You had learned to quietly cry long ago. Your throat burned and ached as you cried for yourself, having no on there for you, no one on your side. As the tears continued to flow you eventually exhausted yourself, passing out on the floor. You woke a while later, well into the night, when you heard some commotion just outside your quarters. You had no idea what it was, nor did you care.

The world outside your quarters was so full of life, even at night, but it wasn’t a world you were meant to partake in. It was very late, and you weren’t going to bother any of your court ladies at this hour. You removed your garments, tossing them off to the side and setting out your blanket and pillow. You were still exhausted from the tears, but you knew you wouldn’t have any pleasant dreams. A part of you hoped you wouldn’t see the sunrise, but that was out of your hands. All you could do was close your eyes and see what the universe had planned for you.

♦♦♥♦♦

“Your Highness, please, it’s the middle of the night, can’t this wait til morning?”

“No. Where is the King?”

“At this hour the King would be in his throne room reviewing petitions. You know he requests that no one bother him during that time.”

“He’ll make an exception.”

Yunho didn’t care for the hour, or the words of his servant. This could not wait. There was only one person in the palace who could stop him in his tracks, and he knew exactly where they were. The King’s servants tried to question why Yunho was there at such a late hour but he ignored them all and stepped into the throne room.

“Your Highness-”

“Leave us.”

None of the servants moved, everyone looking towards the King for a command. Yunho stared down his father, making it clear he had no intention of leaving. After a moment the King noticed the book Yunho held and then ordered everyone to leave and keep a distance. Once the doors shut Yunho stalked up to the throne and slammed the book down on the table.

“You’ve known, this whole time, haven’t you!?”

The King remained calm. “I presume this is about our lineage?”

“Does mother know?”

“She is unaware of the situation.”

“How could you do this!? All these years she-”

“This is necessary.”

“How!? How could you possibly think-”

“The choice I have made was not made lightly.” The King stood. “What I have done is for your own sake.”

“My sake? How is it for my sake?”

“You would not be king otherwise.”

“What?”

“You come here angry and frustrated but you have yet to think of the consequences. That is something I pondered over for a long time. The way things are now guarantees peace. If you disrupt that, you could end up dead.”

“Father…”

“I am the King. The day the throne is yours you may do as you wish, but for now you do as I say. You have a lot to think about but I trust you won’t do anything rash. Am I clear?”

“… yes… your Majesty.”

Yunho took the book back, storming out of the room. His servants had been waiting outside the building, quick to follow him once he appeared.

“Your Highness, please tell me you didn’t do anything to upset the King?”

Yunho didn’t answer, too many things still going through his head. Although he did suddenly come to a stop. Yunho’s gaze turned towards the entrance to his sister’s quarters, unsure of how to feel.

“The Princess is likely asleep at this hour…”

“I know.” Yunho kept walking. “I’m turning in for the night.”

“Yes, your Highness.”

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