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blossom-hwa · 3 years

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pirate!ateez |2|

The continuation of the pirate ateez au inspired by pretty much every wonderland stage and the kingdom wonderland performance!! Once again credits to mai @wingkkun for the ideas that sparked san, mingi, and yeosang’s stories!

(Reading part 1 isn’t required to understand what happens here; however, there are spoilers for previous members’ stories!!)

Pairing: Ateez x gender neutral!reader

Word count: 11.9k (total)

Genre: some fluff, mostly angst, pirate!au

Triggers: cursing, blood and death (sometimes semi-graphic) - specific triggers for each section are listed below the header!

Part 1 (Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho, Yeosang) | Part 2 (San, Mingi, Wooyoung, Jongho)

Ateez Masterlist

san (ABS - specialty in swordsmanship)

warnings: cursing

so. san.

poor dude i put him through a lot in hongjoong’s part :/ he didn’t deserve that i’m sorry san

but let’s start from the beginning

unlike some of the others, san has only ever known the streets. he has no memory of real parents, just various random caretakers who ended up causing him more harm than good

there are two singular exceptions to this during san’s childhood: you and an older pirate named jongin

you’ve been there ever since san can remember. even now he’s not entirely sure how or when you two met, he must’ve been very young, but he just knows you’ve been with him for what feels like forever

the two of you wandered the streets together, begging and stealing food whenever you could

it only makes sense that you two would fall in love once you were old enough to understand it (which comes a little later than either of you would’ve liked - you’re probably sixteen or seventeen when you get the guts to press san against a wall and kiss him like person starved as san kisses back with just as much fervor)

when you were still together, it sometimes felt like you were the only reason san could stay alive

you mean the world to each other. the literal world

so that’s you - someone san knows will never abandon him willingly, will always stay by his side as long as they can

now uh moving on to jongin

you two were young when you tried to pickpocket him that one time

immediately it was clear you’d messed with the wrong guy - he noticed you two immediately and you were caught

but surprisingly, all he did was smile and offer to buy you something to eat

and being the hungry children you were (san thinks you were around twelve at the time) you said yes without a second thought

luckily jongin didn’t have any ulterior motives - in fact, he taught you and san to become better pickpockets, how to take advantage of people’s blind spots and your natural talents

so naturally, he became both of your role model

and because jongin was a pirate, you two resolved to become pirates just like him when you grew older, even asking him to take you on his ship whenever he returned to the city to visit.

but every time, jongin refuses. when you’re younger you kind of accept it, but as you and san grow older you start to insist more and more

there’s nothing left for you two here except a life still on the streets, and isn’t being a pirate pretty much the same? stealing and pillaging, just on the ocean instead of on dry land

neither you nor san flinches at blood, and you can both deal with injuries

but jongin still refuses, finally telling you just how far from heroes pirates really are. they kill and steal, often more than they need, not taking just enough money and food to survive or pass out to those less fortunate the way you and san both do

this kills the dream a little for you and san, though you both come to the conclusion that not all pirates have to be horrible - look at jongin

so you still resolve to become pirates, maybe on a crew that isn’t as terrible as the ones jongin has told you two about

this sort of dream goes on for another year or so. you and san figure out your shit and finally kiss, jongin mock claps when he finds out before disappearing again, you and san wander the streets again still with little aim but your interlocked hands are purpose enough

until you get kidnapped.

san literally almost goes insane when he can’t find you after two days. tears around the city like a man possessed, looking everywhere you might be and then everywhere you definitely aren’t on the off chance he’ll find you

but even when jongin arrives back in the city a few weeks later and joins san’s frantic search, you’re never found

it’s all too much. way too much for san - he’s literally lost the one person who keeps him sane - and honestly the last straw is when jongin asks if he wants to join his crew now

deep inside san knows he means it out of the goodness of his heart. jongin isn’t evil and he’s hurting too with your disappearance, he’s just trying to give san a semblance of a new home

but san explodes. none of this would’ve happened if jongin had taken them in earlier, had let them join the crew together, if he’d even taught them more - it’s his fault, it’s his fucking fault

jongin tries to grab san but he just twists away - jongin’s touch feels like fire burning against his skin - and runs

for how long he runs, san genuinely doesn’t know. he just knows that he can’t stay here, can’t stay in this city anymore

so he becomes somewhat of a highway robber? holding travelers at sword point and demanding what they have

the sword he uses was gifted to him by jongin and it makes him feel sick every time he pulls it out, but even though san is sometimes irrational, he’s not stupid - he needs a weapon, and if this is the only one he has, so be it

doesn’t matter if memories of you and an older pirate come flooding back every time he grips the handle.

san makes a name for himself - people whisper about him, tell travelers to avoid the paths he frequents, but the thing is he doesn’t really frequent anywhere. he’s a wanderer too, which makes him so dangerous because he’s so unpredictable

until hongjoong appears and san makes the mistake of challenging him to a fight.

i say mistake but really, it was probably one of the singularly most life-changing events for san except for 1. meeting you, 2. your disappearance, and 3. leaving jongin

because when hongjoong has his sword positioned over san’s neck and san thinks he’s about to die, hongjoong gives him a choice - join his crew or get his throat cut

san just scoffs at first and is like why would you want a highway robber on your crew? don’t you know who i am?

hongjoong does know, of course - he actually tracked san down because he needed a good swordsman to join his crew and thought san would be perfect

san is on the edge of saying no, but hongjoong is one of three people who’ve ever beaten san in a fight (jongin, you, and now joong) so he’s got a little grudging respect for the guy

but even more than that, he remembers you and remembers your pact to find a semi-decent ship and join the crew

it seems like a childish pact now, but for some reason, once he remembers it, he can’t put it out of his mind

(maybe it’s because if you’re dead, which you probably are, san wants to at least fulfill his part of any promises you made so long ago)

so he says yes

for the first few weeks, san really considers jumping ship

seasickness is a bitch, first of all, even if the ship’s doctor is nice enough to give him tips on how to handle it

but the main issue isn’t just him being sick - it’s the people

not all of them. most are fine. but san has a particular problem with wooyoung and his partner, not because they’re assholes or anything, but because they remind him way too much of him and you. childhood friends who grew up together and wouldn’t part for the world, except they’re still joined at the hip while you’re lost

and san just thinks it’s horribly unfair that you had to be torn away from him while others are allowed to stay together

but really, the ship is better than living on the edge on land. besides woo + his partner, the others are nice, and san has found himself a match in sword fighting with hongjoong and yunho

so as time passes, san acclimates to the ship. he gets closer to everyone there and comes out of his shell, even becoming friends with yeosang whom he previously deemed too close to woo + his partner to deal with

and because yeosang is a package deal with the other two, san eventually becomes friends with them too

for the first time in a long time, san thinks he’s happy, even though he still sorely misses you and wishes you were here. but you’re dead or at least long gone, and he’s not going to find you again

so when you turn up on an enemy pirate ship several years later, san nearly has a heart attack when he sees your face (wooyoung actually has to catch him when he stumbles)

from the widening of your eyes, it’s pretty much the same reaction for you

there’s no fight, at least not then. the town your ships have docked in is safe ground for pirates, meaning the villagers will deal with them but won’t tolerate fights

so your crews resupply, all the while studiously ignoring the pirates from the other ship

but san is itching to talk to you - even just see your face one more time

you look so different yet somehow exactly the same and san wants to know what happened to you - how did you get that scar down the side of your face?

you feel the exact same way.

when you were kidnapped, you were taken on a pirate ship that was far less respectable than hongjoong’s. meaning you went through a fucking lot

you tried to escape at least five times but each time you just got caught, so you eventually gave up. so here you are, ignoring the literal love of your life because your ship is shit and happens to have beef with hongjoong’s

meaning you couldn’t escape if you tried.

so you’ve resigned yourself to mere stolen glimpses of san’s face but then your captain gives all of you a mission

he wants a hostage. and he wants you to lure one of them in.

you don’t want this mission. you fucking hate it and you hate your crew and you don’t want anything more than to just run away so you just ignore it and resolve to subtly sabotage your crewmates’ efforts in any way you can

and for the most part it works

but then you’re on deck, helping one of your crewmates put some supplies away

when a crowd comes on board, bruised and bloodied, and drops choi san onto the wooden floor.

the captain is ecstatic - they’ve managed to catch hongjoong’s best swordsman, no doubt they’ll get a hefty ransom for him

but you’re not listening. all you can do is avoid san’s sharp gaze

and think of a way to help him escape.

the ship sets sail within hours, trying to get away from hongjoong as quickly as possible. san lives his days in one of the tiny cells belowdecks, barely fed between questioning sessions during which he says nothing

but he can feel hope slipping away, day by day - even he can’t break through chains, and even if he could, his sword is gone. five or six pirates he could maybe take alone without a weapon, but there are far more on this ship

still, when the ship finally docks, san has resolved to at least attempt an escape. he knows the captain is in negotiations with hongjoong over getting him back so hongjoong has to be in the same port, or at least nearby

so when someone opens the cell again, san literally launches himself at them in an aborted attempt to run

you subdue him quickly - you’re not dehydrated and underfed, after all

san just gapes into your face that’s barely lit by a torch on the wall outside his cell. he has so much he wants to say, the first being how could you do this to him, did none of your time together mean anything -

but then you unlock the chains around his wrists, toss him a bundle of fresh clothes, and tell him to get changed

dressed in the new clothes, he looks like a member of the crew, and you tell him to keep his head down as you bring him up out of the ship and into the village

san’s still kind of dumbfounded so when you tell him to run, he doesn’t understand at first. run where?

hongjoong’s ship is in the next port, you say. on foot, it’ll take a few days to get there, so he needs as much of a head start before people realize he’s missing

therefore - you push back his forehead with a finger - fucking run, choi san. i don’t recall you being stupid before.

when he understands, he tries to tell you to come with him - hongjoong’s a decent captain, he’ll probably understand

but you shake your head. you yourself need to leave. once your captain realizes san has disappeared, it’s only a matter of time before you get found out, considering the number of unconscious and dead bodies you left in your wake, and you need to be long gone and away from san before that happens. you’re not going to bring more harm on him again. the least you could do is maybe divert their attention for a while

san’s heart sinks when he realizes you have no intention of coming with him, no matter how much he tries to convince you

and he almost starts crying again - just when he’s finally gotten you back, fate is forcing you to slip through his fingers yet again

you just hug him and apologize for everything, for getting kidnapped, for not helping him escape until now even though none of that is your fault

san says that and more, apologizes for even thinking you’ve changed - he should’ve known you were still the same person he’d fallen in love with so long ago

but there’s no more time and now you’re pushing him away and telling him he needs to go before it’s too late. in the process, you press a blade into his hand.

for protection.

it’s faintly familiar. and when san looks a little more closely, he realizes it’s the blade that jongin gave you so long ago, a copy of the same one he gave san. only the initials etched into the handle are different.

it makes him feel sick. san had switched his blade out for another sword the second he could, too many memories of you and jongin attached to it. but you never stopped using yours.

that knowledge makes his insides burn with shame and he tries to give it back to you but you force him to take it. i have more weapons than just this. you have nothing. and now you need to go.

he kisses you one last time. you kiss him back with just as much fervor and when you break away, there’s a small smile on your lips

you tell him you’re glad he’s found a kind crew, a crew he’ll be happy to remain with. you’re glad he’s luckier than you

san tries to tell you again to come with him, but you shake your head. hongjoong won’t be happy to take in a member of an enemy crew, and even if he was, that’d only turn your ship’s sights on san’s for a long time. you won’t have that.

so you disappear with a last reminder not to be stupid, a wavering smile on your face

it takes everything san has to return to hongjoong’s ship without chasing after you, and he’s welcomed back with open arms and warm words

but despite being back with his family, san’s heart sinks the farther they get from the harbor, knowing that he’ll probably never find out what happened to you, his original family, after this

wooyoung tries to comfort him, saying not to lose hope - after all, you met once after your separation, you might meet again

however, fate isn’t kind. san knows that very well. twice you’ve met, and twice you were separated

san hopes wooyoung is right, hopes he’ll see you once more

but as the ship cuts through the water into the open ocean and land fades from sight...

deep inside, something tells san he won’t.

mingi (ABS)

warnings: cursing

you look me in the eyes and ask how it is possible for me to write angst for someone like mingi. i tell you i will try my best

that is a threat and a promise

anyway! let’s get on with it

mingi is a pure-hearted orphan who has somehow survived the demoralizing and horrible orphanage system in his hometown

he never knew his parents, all he’s ever known was that shitty little orphanage, it’s a miracle that didn’t break apart his pure personality

it helps that from a young age, mingi was taller and bigger than his peers - people didn’t want to mess with him

also when he’s not smiling, he can look pretty scary

but that left mingi lonelier than he wanted to be, so he resolved to smile whenever he could so that people wouldn’t feel intimidated by his stare

it didn’t win him many friends??? like the kids his age were more just weirded out by him smiling when they lived in a fucking orphanage. but he did get more free handouts from adults when he’d pretend to act like a cute kid, so he just kept doing that

eventually when he grew older, maybe mid-teens, he got a job working at his town’s port

mingi’s pretty smart and more importantly here, he’s very strong - just the type of worker his supervisors were looking for

the job is okay - not horrible, but it’s kind of boring and mingi’s supervisors aren’t always the nicest

but mingi’s always been the type of person to just content himself with the fact that hey, things could be worse

he might not have survived the orphanage

he might not have been born with strength

he might not have gotten a job that comes with a semi-stable roof over his head

so for a couple of years, this goes on, mingi helping ships unload and reload, stuff like that

until hongjoong’s ship pulls into port

it normally wouldn’t mean anything if hongjoong hadn’t been half dead on his feet with his partner and seonghwa pretty much carrying him down the gangplank

most people were just shoving them around, totally ignoring the fact that hongjoong clearly needed help

but even though his supervisor told him to go help one of the bigger ships, mingi saw hongjoong and went off to go help them

recommended a cheap place to get rest and offered to help them with some of the ship repairs so they wouldn’t have to pay so much (because their boat was... a little beaten up to say the least)

after a few days, hongjoong recovers from his sickness (brought on by exhaustion, not eating well, and god knows what else - his partner chewed him the fuck out), and they all thank mingi profusely

they’re about to leave then - the ship has been repaired thanks to mingi’s help and they’re ready to set sail again

but a glint appears in seonghwa’s eye and he suddenly turns around and asks mingi if he’d like to come with them

mingi: wha - you mean me?

seonghwa: is there another guy named mingi around?

mingi: i mean technically yeah, there’s a lee mingi working on the other end of the shipyard -

at first mingi’s like... no i don't think so because he has a stable job here, right? nothing really happens and it’s kind of boring, but being a pirate sounds kind of scary

but another part of him has been aching for something more interesting than the monotony of working at the port day in and day out

besides, hongjoong seems like a much nicer person than his supervisors

so in the end, mingi throws caution to the wind and joins the crew

he kind of questions it at first because he really doesn’t seem to have a knack for swordplay, also he kind of tends to panic/get squeamish when there are fights

but seonghwa keeps faith in him no matter what - he was the one to ask mingi if he wanted to stay, after all

so as time goes on and more people join the crew, mingi adjusts to life as a pirate. he finds his role on the ship in making repairs when they’re in port or even when they’re on board, which makes him happy - mingi likes being useful

he also likes jongho, who joins him as one of the ship’s repairmen when he ends up with the crew

he even becomes a fair swordsman - definitely not the best on the ship, not by a long shot, but after being trained by first hongjoong and then yunho (with san occasionally interjecting when he joins the crew), he definitely has the skills to defend himself and others

emphasis on others. because while mingi might panic during a fight where he’s only defending himself, when those he cares for come into play, mingi is a demon. an absolute demon.

an enemy pirate once got within a hair’s breadth of killing seonghwa once and mingi just unleashed absolute fury. first time he ever killed someone

it haunts him sometimes, but the knowledge that he was protecting seonghwa keeps him from dwelling on it too much. that’s how much mingi cares about his crew

and that comes into play when you enter his story

you’re the child of a couple corrupt aristocrats who have never, not once in their lives, given you the attention you deserved

no matter what you did, they didn’t care

you studied your ass off. you worked so hard on swordplay. you’re literally the golden child in the aristocratic circles of your region and other nobles wish you were their child, but all your parents ever do is give you a passing glance and a fake smile

sure they’ll praise you at parties and things when they talk to other nobles, but it’s all empty - they only barely remember all of your accomplishments. they just don’t care

then one day, hongjoong’s crew pisses off your family - ruins trade at some port or whatever

so your father puts a bounty on his crew’s heads

it’s not exactly a common thing to put bounties on the heads of pirates, but it can happen if a crew fucks around a little too much

and when the bounty goes out for the crew of the aurora (hongjoong’s ship), you seize on it as your last chance to gain your parents’ approval, the approval you’ve been seeking for quite literally your entire life

you’re not dumb - you know it’ll be hard, and you know your family is only going to be completely satisfied if you bring back proof that the captain is dead. not some other random crew member, though that’s a step in the right direction

you decide to go for one of those crew members first, preying on the fact that if one goes missing, the captain will likely be easier to capture

you’ve heard stories about hongjoong, he isn’t heartless. he actually does care about his crew, each of whom plays an integral role on the ship

which means if you can get one of them, you can lure him out - you might not even have to kill off the rest of the crew if you can just take him out

therefore you set your eyes on one song mingi. from the rumors he’s the worst at fighting, but he’s also essential when it comes to ship repairs

the perfect target for your plan

so you set out on your journey. your idea is to try and see if you can befriend mingi somehow, get him to trust you, then take him hostage

and somehow, you get lucky at the first port you visit - hongjoong’s ship is right there, aurora emblazoned on its side

it’s not hard to spot mingi - he’s one of the tallest, and he’s busy tinkering around the side of the ship

it’s even easier to get his attention

because your master plan is simple and dumb as fuck

fall into the water and pretend to drown.

mingi, being the pure-hearted lovely soul he is, jumps in to save you despite you being very able to swim

he’s worrying over you when he pulls you out of the ocean, spitting and choking water

and all you can think is 1. mingi is very handsome but more importantly 2. all of this is genuine. like too genuine

it unnerves you - how can a pirate be so pure of heart?

but you push that thought away. there has to be some hidden side of mingi that he hasn’t shown yet, he’s a pirate after all. you can’t feel guilt for using him - you need to gain your parents’ approval. you need to

so you do your damn best to keep him in port. every night you go out and subtly undo some of the repairs he’s made and create a few new problems as well

the ship ends up staying in port for a few more weeks than expected

and during that time, you find that mingi... is really not hiding anything

at all

you keep trying to prod at him when you invite him to bars for a drink, when you “coincidentally” catch him on the streets, etc.

but there’s nothing to mingi except his very kind personality that sometimes, against your better judgement, sweeps you off your feet

like when that horse-drawn carriage almost hit you and mingi pulled you away just in time

or when you bumped into the wrong person and they pulled a knife on you that mingi was fast enough to deflect

by the time those several weeks are over, you haven’t made any headway in your plan to kidnap mingi

you tell yourself that it’s fine, this mission was always going to take a long time - you could be here for over a year before the right opportunity presents itself after all, and mingi probably doesn’t trust you enough just yet for that to work anyway

mingi ends up sailing off again, and he promises to come back

also makes you promise to stay and wait for him.

you tell yourself another lie, that you’re happy he’s asking you to wait just because it’ll make your plan so much easier - plus, it means he likes you, which is a step towards trust

it’s definitely not because mingi’s smile is as bright as the sun itself.

the next time you see the aurora come into port, you swear to yourself you’ll do it this time. you’ll kidnap mingi, force hongjoong to come out so you can put his head on a silver platter

but it doesn’t happen. and the next time it doesn’t happen, either.

and in the end, you have to accept that the reason you keep sabotaging the ship, trying to keep mingi in port as long as you can, is that you like his smile. way more than you actually should.

some stupidly hopeful part of you tries to convince you that it’ll be fine, you can continue living like this

but another part of you knows lies never last

and a last part of you screams that you’re a disappointment to your family, falling in love with one of the pirates your parents have put a bounty on when that pirate probably doesn’t even love you back

he does, though. he really does

mingi loves the curve of your lips when you smile genuinely, when the clouds in your eyes disappear for a moment of pure, blessed happiness

he’s fallen in love with your mind, with your quick wit and light banter when you speak

for the past two trips on the ocean, mingi has dreamed of little more than holding you close and kissing you and he’d resolved to that, finally, when he came back this time

which is why his heart completely shatters when he finds you by the ship one dark night, carefully undoing some of the repairs he made just this morning

he never suspected it, but as he stands, watching you work, the pieces begin to click together

mingi isn’t stupid, after all - he knows you’re smart, knows you’re good with your hands, and you’ve also been extremely secretive about your past

even more secretive than he is about being a pirate.

you sense his presence when he gets closer before he even says anything and your hands freeze

for a moment, neither of you says anything

then mingi just lets out a cracked why?

you could lie. you consider it for a few frantic moments, mind working to conjure something credible

but it’s mingi. it’s fucking song mingi, the pirate you’ve fallen in love with against every single one of your wishes

so the truth behind all of your lies spills out in one go

in the moonlight, you can see mingi’s eyes turn from confused and betrayed to even more betrayed

but what really drives it home is when you mention hongjoong, and how you were trying to use mingi to lure him out

mingi’s eyes turn angry for the first time since you’ve met him

because like i said, mingi doesn’t take kindly to anyone who tries to hurt those whom he cares about

like yeah, he cares about you, but hongjoong is his captain, the captain who’s saved mingi’s life multiple times, often at risk of his own

that’s when mingi’s eyes narrow and his expression turns cold

a chill runs down your back, a chill you’ve never felt before in his presence

and mingi tells you then and there that he better not see you ever again

because if he does, it won’t end well

you’re in the next town before you allow yourself to process anything that just happened, mainly because you know that if you try you’ll start crying

and that’s exactly what happens in a dark little tavern at the edge of the city

you cry over yourself, over losing mingi, over failing your stupid mission for stupid parents who were never going to accept you anyway

you cry because you hurt someone so pure of heart just for two cold aristocrats who didn’t give a shit

you cry because now you have no purpose in life - you’ve catered your entire existence to your parents, and they don’t even care

what’s the point of anything now?

back on the ship, mingi doesn’t cry. he just stares at the fading town as the aurora draws farther and farther from land

your story plays in his mind over and over again

he sympathizes for you, he really does - mingi isn’t cruel or heartless, he heard the desperation in your voice when you talked about your parents and he’s seen the clouds in your eyes firsthand

but it doesn’t change the fact that you’d sought him out with the intention of hurting his crew beyond repair

he tries to tell himself this as comfort, to reaffirm that he did the right thing by chasing you off

deep inside, though, even if he’s sure he did right

the pain of a broken heart and what could have been, he knows, will never fully go away.

wooyoung (ABS)

warnings: cursing, death, blood

before i start i’d like to preemptively apologize

probably should’ve done that before every other part too idk why i'm only doing it now

maybe it’s because this one is 3.4k long and the second longest is a mere 2.8k (fuck you san)

doesn’t matter i've done it please don’t come for me

wooyoung is a ball of pure sunshine aboard the ship. almost literally

sometimes shines a little too bright (ie he gets annoying), but without him, the crew would fall into darkness

but a light needs a source, doesn’t it? it doesn’t just spontaneously emit out of nowhere - fires need kindling, candles need wax, even the sun burns on fuel

and wooyoung’s fuel is you.

like i mentioned in san’s part, you and wooyoung are childhood friends. probably not quite as long as san and his partner - you met when you were a bit older, maybe just after you turned twelve or something, but that doesn’t mean your bond is any less strong

wooyoung remembers your first meeting very clearly - in fact, it’s one of his favorite memories

some older kids were pushing him around, and wooyoung was just trying to run away

he’d just broken free and was running off when a hand grabbed his wrist, dragging him behind an empty market stall, and another hand slapped over his mouth to muffle his cry of surprise

the older kids ran past, then stopped, looking confused, but when they couldn’t see wooyoung anywhere they just left

you finally let go of wooyoung and he turns around to look at you

and from then on, he swears you’re his savior

seriously, wooyoung thinks you’re literally the greatest fucking thing on this planet. might not act like it all the time because he’s a little shit, but you mean more to him than anything in the world

you don’t plan to get attached to him, not at first - you’re a little more standoffish, you told wooyoung you only helped him because you really hate the group of kids that was messing with him

but wooyoung attaches himself to you like a fucking limpet and as the months pass, you find you don’t mind. not at all.

you’re both street orphans, pickpockets and all that - neither of you are in the orphanage (wooyoung just never ended up there, while you ran away early on) and you’ve both been alone for a long while, so it’s nice to have someone with whom you can trust your back

and as time goes on, you start thinking of wooyoung less as an ally and more as a friend, then less as a friend and more as someone you love

wooyoung, on the other hand, has been head over heels since day one - getting into your space, pressing stupid little kisses onto your dirty face even as you try to bat him away

but he obviously doesn’t make a move at first because he’s like fucking twelve and doesn’t understand what he feels, and when he grows older and figures it out, he refrains from doing too much (like kissing your lips) because you don’t seem to feel the same way

except you are an impatient fuck

so once you figure it out and more importantly, you figure wooyoung out, it takes less than a day for you to have him pressed up against a wall, kissing him with all the strength you can muster

when you pull away, lips swollen and eyes suddenly shy, wooyoung tries to crack a joke like wow, didn’t know i was that irresistible

you just smirk and say you’re the one who’s been staring at my lips day in, day out for the past several years, woo

oh yeah that’s when wooyoung knows you’re the one

(he does ask why the fuck you waited so long if you noticed everything over the past few years)

(the truth is you only really figured it out a few days ago, but you tell him you just wanted him to suffer)

(it cues a lot of angry whining and cute pouts even though he knows it’s a joke so what can you do but kiss him until he shuts up?)

anyway you and wooyoung more or less rule your small section of the streets

master pickpockets and all that, plus you know how to use a knife very well and wooyoung is adept at fighting with whatever the fuck happens to be nearby

you’ve got a good head on your shoulders and though you never truly lie, your reasonable-sounding words always have several layers of meaning, which is very useful in negotiations

meanwhile wooyoung is just really, really good at sliding out of sticky situations - you turn your head the other way for one second and he’s disappeared

people don’t really dare mess with either of you because they know that if one of you get hurt, the other will literally go out for blood

the same goes for yeosang - you met the quiet orphanage boy on one of the rare times he went outside, and everyone knows not to mess with him since he’s under your protection

this reputation precedes you, which is why you and wooyoung are very surprised when a tall, gangly looking dude comes into your little pocket of territory looking very lost

both of you immediately think this is someone good to pickpocket, or at least harangue for news - he’s clearly not from here

too bad mingi has a hongjoong on his side who is very worriedly looking for his tall lost repairman

and in the middle of you two getting up in mingi’s space, hongjoong appears, wielding a very scary-looking sword

both you and wooyoung know this is someone not to be messed with, but curiosity gets the better of you - who is this guy, why is he here, and why doesn’t he know to stay away?

instead of asking, though, you both run away fast enough that hongjoong doesn’t have to deal with you

the next day, though, when you see a familiar face with a familiar sword hanging around the market, you decide to tail him for a bit

turns out he’s a pirate, which is intriguing in and of itself - it also explains the unfamiliarity with the territory

but what’s even more intriguing is how he manages to defend himself against your knives all the while answering your peppered questions in the most evasive manner possible

in the end, hongjoong has you pinned against an alley wall, sword inches from your throat

he clearly expects you to start begging for your life

but you just laugh breathlessly and say - hey, i’ve got two friends who’ve got nothing left here, just like me. do you have an opening for three on your crew?

hongjoong thinks you’re joking but you’re dead serious. there’s nothing in this town, you’re sick and tired of pickpocketing people and protecting your little territory to no end - there’s no point to it all

you know wooyoung feels the same way. he’s so energetic, always looking for something new, and even though he doesn’t say anything, you know he’s itching to get out of here

yeosang might take a little convincing, but if you can prey correctly on his desire to visit the lands he’s only ever marked on maps, he’ll come too

hongjoong asks what you have to offer to his crew. you say a sharp tongue, resourceful fighters, a navigator

and most importantly, a source of light.

(hongjoong doesn’t ask and you don’t elaborate on the last one, even though you can see a hint of confusion in his eyes)

he gives you two days to convince wooyoung and yeosang, if you don’t show up by then he’s setting sail

wooyoung is convinced almost immediately - his only qualm is seasickness, and you tell him he’ll get used to it

yeosang takes a little more effort, but with your persuasion skills, he agrees

and so the three of you join hongjoong’s crew

being a pirate isn’t as glorious as you originally thought it’d be - the first few weeks are just being seasick all the time, and there are fewer fights and less exploring than you’d like, more just running around and maintaining the ship

but the crew makes up for it more than tenfold

you and wooyoung have never really had family - just each other and then yeosang

but now that you’re with the crew, that sense of home you’ve only ever felt with woosang just multiplies

you love it on the ship. so does wooyoung

(he says it’s because there are so many hidden places where you can hide to kiss, but you think it’s because he has seonghwa to annoy now and not just you + yeosang)

both of you are on cloud nine, even with the nonstop work day in and day out

it’s all worth it when you can see the new cities, pilfer a little something in the marketplaces every now and then

life goes on like this - some crew members are lost and others join

you mourn for those gone, especially hongjoong’s partner, and you try to welcome the new members as best you can

(san is a tough nut to crack, but in the end, you and wooyoung are both happy that you kept at it long enough to see the results)

it’s a constant give or take - you know the ocean isn’t kind, know that the life of a pirate isn’t kind, and you’ve learned to live with it even though a piece of your heart breaks away with every crew member who falls

but then yeosang falls. literally.

and wooyoung begins to fade away.

wooyoung feels his emotions deeply, he’s always known that - it’s what binds him so strongly to you and what bound him so strongly to yeosang

so when he fell during that battle, stabbed several times, and could only watch yeosang fall into the ocean from the crow’s nest - essentially yeosang’s home on the ship -

wooyoung cries for hours after the battle, locked in your arms

and for once, even the knowledge that you’re by his side doesn’t seem to be enough to fill the void left by yeosang’s loss

the entire crew is experienced with their own types of loss, loss of partners and friends

but this is the first time wooyoung has felt it so deeply, like a knife carving out a hole in his chest

eventually, though, he recovers

it takes months, but he still has you. he still has san. he still has yeosang’s grieving friend, who might have become his partner had he lived, and he still has all of the crew

and you let him latch onto you whenever the void comes creeping on him again, because though wooyoung might be the light, you’re the source of fuel that keeps his sputtering flame burning

(guilt eats at you, too - you’re the one who convinced yeosang to join the crew, after all. but wooyoung calls it bullshit - you’re not at fault, not at all, yeosang understood what he was risking - and when he latches onto you, you take your own comfort in the warmth of his arms)

life goes on after the battle and yeosang’s death. wooyoung takes a long time to recover from his injuries and you’re by his side the entire way

but then san gets kidnapped and wooyoung almost goes off the deep end again - he can’t lose another friend

thankfully, san returns, so wooyoung doesn’t lose himself completely

but he begins to fear the disappearance or death of one of those whom he loves even more than he used to

as time goes on, he realizes he might not be able to handle the life of a pirate - he cares too deeply, too much, losing the people he cares for is breaking him slowly, bit by bit

you ask him what’s wrong one day and he spills all of this to you, sobbing

the next day you ask hongjoong to leave you and wooyoung at the next port - you can’t be on the crew anymore

hongjoong asks why, but when you explain he doesn’t even hesitate to nod and thanks you for your service

he does say that he’ll miss the source of light on his ship, the light and its kindling, but if this is what you and wooyoung really want, then it’s what he’ll give you

wooyoung feels a guilty sense of relief when you bring him back the news - he’s relieved that you two are going to leave, but there’s also the guilt of taking you away from a life that you enjoy

but you remind him that he’s your life. wooyoung is everything to you, and if he isn’t happy, you’re not going to be happy, no matter what

so it’s settled that you two will split off from the crew at the next port, which you’ll reach after a few weeks of sailing, maybe

you reach the port and are ready to part ways, saying goodbye to the rest of the crew

the aurora is staying in port for a couple of days for repairs, and you and wooyoung decide to stick around for at least the night before you go off

you go on a walk that night with him, darkened streets lit up by evenly spaced torches and lanterns

which is why you see the other ship pull into port with a navy seal on its side. and your blood freezes.

with one look, you and wooyoung are racing off to where you know the crew of the aurora is staying because you have to warn them

hongjoong looks grim. there’s a fight, it’s going to be inevitable, and you can feel wooyoung tensing up next to you

your former captain says you don’t have to fight if you don’t want to, you’re technically not part of the crew anymore

but one look between you and wooyoung settles it. one last battle to help the family that took you in

the battle is in the dark, bloody and brutal and made even worse by the fact that you can’t see the rivers of blood flowing down the streets - it’s all a mess of sticky black that your feet leave tracks in on the roads

you and wooyoung are back to back with san, the three of you fighting to the last

until there’s finally an opening and you manage to escape into a little alley

except the alley ends in a wall. a wall tall enough to climb over, maybe, but wooyoung has a wound in his stomach and san’s bleeding out of his side and you’ve got injuries of your own so you’re wholly, completely fucked

as several naval soldiers appear at the end of the alley, all you can think is how you and wooyoung were supposed to have gone off today, were supposed to have left to find a more stable life together

but at the same time, you know that if you hadn’t stayed for the night, your crew, your family, might not have gotten enough warning to save at least a few of their lives

wooyoung is starting to wheeze behind you. san doesn’t look much better, and you feel like you’re going to collapse

there are four soldiers standing in front of you, and there’s no shred of uncertainty in your mind when you think we’re not going to survive this

except - maybe if you can buy yourselves some time -

your eyes light on one of the torches on the side of the alley and a really dumb plan springs into your mind

you spring forward, ignoring wooyoung’s cry, and snatch up the still-burning torch

with a prayer that the ground is flammable, you hurl the torch in front of you

and thankfully, a flame begins to burn

you turn around and start helping wooyoung boost san over the wall

wooyoung is about to go next, grasping san’s hands - you go to help push him up

but then metal flashes in corner of your eye and you have to whirl away, dropping wooyoung to dodge the sword that came a hair’s breadth within slicing the skin off your cheek

how the soldier got past the fire, you have no idea - it’s still burning

maybe they got over it when it was still low

but then there are two shadows, not just one, both with blades flashing

and you know with a stark certainty that both you and wooyoung are going to die if you don’t get up that wall immediately

the problem is, there isn’t enough time to get both of you up - one is going to be slashed to pieces by the time it’s their turn

but one of you...

you block one of the blades and send the soldier crashing to the ground. the other is farther away and for one split second, you lock eyes with them

there’s enough light to see your smirk

give me a moment here, will you? you say

then you turn around and kiss wooyoung on the mouth.

it’s a brief kiss, barely longer than a second, but it’s all you have time for before you bodily lift wooyoung as much as you can so that san can reach him, arms pulling him up

san acts on reflex - he doesn’t realize what you’re planning just yet and neither does wooyoung

but they sure as hell figure it out when you duck under the second soldier’s swipe and begin fighting, despite the blood streaming from your face and body

in the background, you can hear wooyoung screaming and no doubt he’s thrashing around in san’s grip

but it’s all you can do to focus on the fight at hand - two against one with the one injured isn’t fair, but since when has the navy played fair?

you notice the sword flashing down at your side. you notice it, but you’re not fast enough

white hot pain bursts below your rib cage and you fall to your knees, blades clattering from your hands

another explosion of pain enters your back and you let out a scream of agony, collapsing to the ground

wooyoung watches you fall in the moonlight, red and black blood pooling beneath you

and only then does he stop thrashing in san’s hold

because he’s crying too hard, too hard to see or do anything but let a silently crying san carry him away

san takes him back to the ship where hongjoong manages to set sail in record time, leaving the navy behind

wooyoung doesn’t even move from where san has laid him on the floorboards - the only sign he’s still alive are his eyes, deadened eyes that track the land they’ve left behind, growing smaller and smaller in the distance

the land that holds your body

the body he’ll never see again.

several hours pass. someone’s moved him into the medbay, wooyoung doesn’t know who because all he can see is you collapsing to the ground over and over again, dark blood flowing endlessly from your wounds

tears build up behind his eyes again and he wants to scream, scream how nothing is fair, nothing is fucking fair, he was the one who wanted a new life that wasn’t that of a pirate and you were just going along with it but now he’s still alive and on the same fucking pirate ship he wanted to leave in the first place

and he’s lost both of his childhood friends, first yeosang to the waves and now you to the navy

with this loss, wooyoung is grasping his will to live by a mere thread

and he isn’t even sure he wants to hang on any longer.

there is no sun aboard the aurora anymore, at least not in the form of jung wooyoung

because once a fire’s fuel is gone, it can no longer burn

and wooyoung’s fuel is out.

jongho (ABS)

warnings: cursing, death, blood

ah yes jongho stronk boy

when i listed the best fighters i bet you were expecting me to put him in there too

but what i meant by best fighters is best sword fighters

see, jongho is extremely good at fighting and has the arms to prove it

however, his skills don’t solely lie in swords - hongjoong/yunho/san are better than him there - but he will fight with whatever the fuck else happens to also be around him

mingi sometimes likes to bring up that one time there was an enemy pirate fighting next to him and jongho just picked him up, swung him, and knocked out a second enemy pirate right then and there

so yeah. that’s jongho. well-rounder extraordinaire

no one knows how the fuck he’s so good at everything and at this point most of the crew is afraid to ask

but anyway let’s talk about the back story a little shall we

unlike most of the others, jongho has parents that he remembers and as far as he knows are still alive

however that does not mean he likes them

they weren’t abusive, exactly - they just were never around and when they were, jongho mostly got ignored or ordered around to do stuff like cook dinner or fucking whatever

so that’s what he suffers through for most of his childhood

during that time, he learns how to be pretty self-sufficient - he’s the one who takes care of himself, after all

he learns to cook, clean, etc.

but most importantly he learns to repair things, like the house

he gets really good at it too, to the point that people start hiring him to help them with fixing their shit

which is how hongjoong finds him

well, more accurately, yunho finds him

the aurora has docked in jongho’s town after a long storm and the ship has a lot of damage that’s going to take mingi a lot of time to fix

so yunho sets out to find someone who they can hire to help mingi out

he asks around and everyone recommends jongho, so yunho goes to find him. after losing his partner in that storm, hongjoong is in no shape to leave the ship, san is still recovering from injuries and guilt, and seonghwa’s busy tending to the crew members and making sure they don’t fall apart

when jongho answers the knock on his door, yunho is like ???? at first because what the fuck this guy can’t even be older than him - is he really that good at fixing things??

tbh yunho was expecting some middle aged man with massive muscles or something

but jongho’s staring at him like wtf do you want and yunho remembers he actually has a purpose here plus jongho does have really big muscles even if he isn’t middle aged so he’s like hi i heard you’re jongho can you help us fix our ship we’ll pay you

and what’s jongho gonna do? say no?

so he works with mingi for the best part of a couple of months, fixing up the aurora

and during that time, he meets the rest of the crew, who come and go

jongho gets to know them and he grows to like them - he used to be a pretty solitary person, but it’s really impossible to stay that way after meeting one jung wooyoung and his partner

even after he puts it together that they’re pirates, he still likes them

jongho isn’t stupid, it’s pretty obvious after working with mingi for a couple of weeks - they talk of treasure and travels when they think he doesn’t hear

but really, jongho doesn’t care too much - pay is pay, no matter who it comes from

and really, pirates can’t be much worse than the greedy nobles and aristocrats who run his city, right? their illegal acts are just blatant and out in the open, while the aristocracy try to keep their wrongdoings under wraps

he does ask mingi about it one day - why he decided to join the crew of the aurora

after the initial spluttering of we’re not pirates, cueing jongho’s deadpan expression that has mingi immediately quailing, mingi tells jongho more or less his story of joining the crew

maybe a few embellishments because yknow it’s mingi and we love him for it

and jongho listens carefully. his story is a little similar to mingi’s, actually, even if he knows his parents and was never at an orphanage

they were both alone, they both learned to do repair work...

that night, jongho lies awake in bed in his empty house, thinking about what mingi said

as they continue working, jongho prods mingi for more and more stories about the crew and their adventures, and though he visibly shies away from some topics (major fights and major storms, particularly the one that drove them into this port), mingi tells jongho enough for him to see that hongjoong’s crew isn’t immoral. far from it, really

there’s no explaining away the battles and murder and pillaging, but as far as jongho is concerned, at least they’re upfront about it

nobility does the same shit, they just prefer to call murder “the hanging of criminals” and pillaging “taxes”

and jongho is tired of both

after about a month or a month and a half, he decides to himself that he wants to join the aurora

so he asks mingi one day how hongjoong might feel if jongho wanted to join the crew

he doesn’t know hongjoong, he’s only caught maybe a glimpse or two of the captain because he’s been grieving this whole time, which is why he goes to mingi first

mingi tells him to come back the next day, he’ll see if seonghwa can better answer that question as the second in command since hongjoong is still out

seonghwa takes a liking to jongho almost immediately, and the feeling is mutual

even just minutes after meeting, seonghwa gives jongho the sense that he truly cares for him in a way that jongho really hasn’t felt before, not even from his own parents

so the deal is settled and after the repair job is finished, jongho returns to his small home to pack up his stuff. the next day, he’s sailing into the open ocean without looking back

like almost every other new crew member, jongho gets seasick for the first few weeks he isn’t on land

meaning he stays in the medbay more often than he’d like to

but it’s fine - because that’s where he meets you

you’re the ship’s doctor. relatively new since the last doctor was killed in battle maybe half a year ago, but wooyoung was lucky enough to befriend you, an apothecarist’s apprentice, in one of the towns the aurora docked in

you come from a town that’s a safe zone of sorts for pirates - the locals are friendly if wary, and pirates don’t get into fights on your land

it’s a pretty decent existence if you ignore the fact that royalty/nobles would have all of your heads if they could find definitive proof that your town likes to harbor criminals, but people keep their mouths shut here so it doesn’t happen

however, as decent as this existence is, you got a bit of the short end of the stick

your parents died after you were apprenticed to the apothecarist, leaving you with no nearby relatives or places to stay other than the orphanage or the apothecary

and the orphanage in your town majorly sucks so you just opted to stay at the apothecary

except the apothecarist is not a good human being. major leech. creepy. you hated being around him any more than necessary

which means you learned everything as fast as you could just so you could stay away and look after customers on your own

and when the opportunity to use your skills elsewhere came up, you barely hesitated before telling wooyoung please get me the fuck out of here

only thing that made you balk was the possibility of death on the seas, but you’re young and naive and when you’re at that age, you feel like you’re invincible - therefore you brush it off

plus, everyone dies eventually, right?

you’re the new blood for several months until jongho joins the crew

and because he’s the new guy now, you take it upon yourself to familiarize him with how the ship and the crew work while he’s currently bedridden

it gives him something to focus on other than the rolling sea beneath him

and it’s nice to talk to someone who’s just mildly sick and not bleeding to fucking death

even after jongho gets better, he continues to spend a lot of his free time in the medbay because he likes being around you. your voice is soothing and somewhere in the back of his mind, he probably associates it with care and comfort, given how you treated him during those first few weeks

slowly but surely, you grow closer and closer

you’re the one jongho goes to when he feels a little stifled, too used to independence on land and unfamiliar with the teamwork that comes with being part of a crew

and you like to talk to him when you’re exhausted after treating wound after wound after wound after a harsh storm or bloody battle

it feels like you understand him, no matter what, and jongho does his best to lend you a listening ear as well - it’s the least he can do

you feel comforting, but in a different way from the rest of the crew

like yeah, seonghwa’s comforting in that mother sort of way, hongjoong has that tired dad vibe where jongho knows he can go to him with whatever, and the rest of ateez are like older brothers he knows he can trust

but there’s something different about you

he figures it out, of course, because jongho isn’t dumb or clueless - but he is a little afraid of being so attached to you

because what if he loses you? then what happens?

he tries to go to seonghwa to talk about it because he’s genuinely so scared

but seonghwa’s not in his room and instead, a tired-looking hongjoong catches jongho in the hallway knocking on seonghwa’s door and asks what he needs from hwa

jongho is slightly nervous because he hasn’t spoken that much to joong, or at least not as much as some of the other crew - after all, he joined the crew when hongjoong was still in grieving and has only really been talking to him for a few months

and by now he knows what happened to hongjoong’s partner in the storm - the same storm that wrought the damage on the aurora that jongho helped repair

so he isn’t sure if it’s a good idea to talk to joong about it

but hongjoong presses him a little, saying that hwa is dealing with some other stuff at the moment and that jongho can talk to joong if he wants

so in a fit of recklessness (he’s also been holding it in for kind of a while, he needs to talk), jongho spills it in hongjoong’s office

and hongjoong goes silent.

jongho regrets his entire existence during the few minutes of silence and he’s opening his mouth to apologize and take his leave

but hongjoong talks first

and he says to go for it.

you can’t live your life in fear of what might happen, especially when it comes to love

losing love hurts, but the memories you make are worth the pain

hongjoong’s eyes look haunted, but there’s a faint smile on his face that jongho somehow knows isn’t faked - his words are the truth

and he takes them as comfort when he goes to talk to you later about how he feels

turns out you’ve felt the same way for a while, but you didn’t think the feelings were reciprocated so you didn’t say anything, just kept caring for him in the ways you know best

you talk the entire night about what this means for the two of you, and it ends with you and jongho holding each other on one of the medbay beds, curled into the other’s warmth

it turns out to be a blessing that jongho talked to hongjoong about this and not someone else

mingi/yunho/san don’t have partners on the ship, while wooyoung and his partner have been together for literally forever - getting together was barely a decision for them, more like the only logical path to follow

seonghwa would’ve been good to talk to, probably - he lost his partner (at this point he still thinks they’re dead) and would’ve said something similar to hongjoong

he still wears the ring, after all

but the talk with hongjoong breaks down that last wall between him and jongho, and they grow closer

which is something jongho really appreciates, because hongjoong is as dependable as seonghwa and another figure jongho can now trust

life goes on - it gets better for jongho, actually, what with you and finally growing close to every member of the crew

he loves sword fighting practice and delights in terrorizing his crew members during mock fights by using whatever happens to be nearby, not just his sword

he also loves sitting with you on deck and breaking an apple in half, wordlessly handing one part to you and keeping the other for himself, all the while staring at the clouds during the day or the stars at night

just being near you makes jongho instantly feel not safer, but more comforted

because jongho’s in as much danger as he always was, he knows that

but having you close by makes him feel more able to handle that danger.

at least, until yeosang dies.

jongho watches him being flung off the crow’s nest and into the water, never to resurface

watches his partner race to the railing and scream until their throat goes raw and the screams die to begging wails

the scene replays itself in his head again and again after the battle is over

only instead of it being yeosang flung through the air, it’s you

which doesn’t make sense. you’re the doctor, you stay belowdecks during fights and have never ventured into the crow’s nest as far as he knows

but suddenly jongho is confronted with the very real fear that you could die any second

he knew that before, but like you, he was young and reckless and thought himself invincible

now, though, he knows what could happen

and it worries him. you’re not the worst at fighting on the ship, you can defend yourself pretty well, but you don’t have have as much experience as even mingi because 1. you’ve been on the ship for less time, and 2. you don’t go above decks during fights - you stay in the medbay with someone designated to protect you. a ship’s doctor is valuable, after all

your instincts are to heal, not to destroy, and that terrifies jongho

it gets even worse after wooyoung loses his partner and jongho sees the shell that he’s become

jongho didn’t see it happen, but san tells him and seonghwa several days later, eyes haunted as he tries to describe the sight of wooyoung’s partner jerking under the blades, wooyoung going limp as a rag doll as they fell, san being forced to bring basically a corpse back to the ship - the only reason he knew wooyoung himself wasn’t dead was because of the tears running down his face

the story cuts deep into jongho’s heart - wooyoung’s partner was a very good fighter, far better than you, and even they were lost

what if it was you, not them?

jongho decides it’s better to be paranoid than to do nothing and he trains you harder, asking san/yunho/hongjoong to help

you notice the change in his demeanor but don’t question it - after all, you’re wrestling with similar thoughts to his

you confide to him during long nights with you two curled up together on one of the infirmary beds and jongho talks, too

neither of you wants to end this, and you both agree that ending it won’t do much, anyway - you still live on the same ship together, and breaking apart will only hurt you two more

but jongho wishes there was something he could do about this constant fear that he’s going to lose you

wooyoung is still a shell of his former self - jongho doesn’t know if he’d become the same way if you died, and he doesn’t want to test it out

he tries to ignore the fear, to just enjoy every day with you like it’s his last

pressing his lips to yours always makes him feel a little better, anyway

the fear never goes away, though - it’s almost like something is warning him that he will soon suffer the same fate as wooyoung and his partner

jongho ignores it. prays to every higher being he knows that you’ll be safe and extends his prayers to those he doesn’t even know

but prayers don’t work when fate has already decided its path.

the battle comes quickly, and jongho is thrown into the fray, incapacitating as many navy members as he can

he’s so focused on the fight to see the two navy soldiers going belowdecks

because nobody goes belowdecks. the fight stays on top of the ship, only when the ship is being pillaged after the fight do they go below to see what’s there

but since when have naval officers played fair?

jongho has just stabbed an enemy soldier when he hears the muffled yell through the floorboards

a yell of fear, familiar yet unfamiliar at the same time because he knows the voice, but he’s never heard it so frightened

no one has ever seen jongho move that fast. he crashes through the throng of individual battles, earning himself a scrape in the side and several cut ons his arms, but in the moment, he doesn’t feel any of the stinging pain

he crashes belowdecks and freezes for a second at the sight of a dead crew member on the floor, the crew member who was assigned to guard you during this battle

and in that frozen moment, he realizes that there’s no screaming anymore.

jongho throws himself into the medbay

and the first thing he registers is the blood all over the floor.

grief pulls a desperate cry from his lips

the soldiers turn around

and jongho doesn’t know what happens next.

when his mind catches up to the present, jongho’s throat is raw and two naval officers are dead at his feet, their blood seeping into the floorboards, almost ripped apart

but he can’t even take sick satisfaction in that

because no matter how much navy blood he spills, you will still be gone

dead

your blood staining the medbay floors

jongho falls to his knees - blood soaks into his pants, your blood or the officers’ blood, he doesn't have any fucking clue

all he knows is that you’re dead, gone forever the way he always feared

and no amount of blood he spills will ever bring you back.

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 prayer for me these parts were so much longer than they should’ve been I think I’m going insane)

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oncrybabe · 4 years

Text

Isn't there something you're waiting for?

/ Sebastian x Reader: After arriving in stardew valley the farmer has a bit of trouble making friends, but always catches a glimpse of a certain boy. Within the first year the farmer has already set their eyes on Sebastian. /

//this is my first time writing stardew fanfic, and first time writing fanfic in so long, but enjoy !!//

Losing a loved one is always difficult, and losing your grandfather was painful enough. Taking on a farm and changing your life forever? That's more than enough stress. You weren't exactly excited to go to Pelican Town, tucked away in forests and small-town personalities, but fate had a funny way of making a light of things.

Soon enough Pelican Town was home, within a year, after embarrassing asks to dance, late nights in the saloon, early mornings to care for crops, and more, things were finally coming together. You felt like grandpa was smiling down on you, proud of your modest work. But Pelican Town offered more, it offered opportunity beyond what you ever would have guessed.

It offered him.

It was more often than not that you made fun of him, smiling and winking to taunt the quiet boy. Sebastian.

It was one morning in the early days of arriving, running to Robin, in desperate need for supplies when you caught the brooding boy making his way upstairs. You smiled and waved but just received a nod back, before leaving you went to introduce yourself.

"so you're the new farmer? I'm surprised you're still here." He said, quiet aloof and distant.

"I can't give up now, plus I obviously needed to meet you." Surprisingly enough your simple statement made him blush, but is was over soon enough. You were jaunting back to your cottage to continue your day.

That was the first time you ever met him, and it definitely was not the last time. You'd often catch him hanging out with Sam, by the river, on his way home, and always chatted.

"I wish I had a window, the basement is just so depressing," he'd commented about this before, but you'd always listen to him, no matter what he had to say.

"of courses it's no good to be six feet under when you're still breathing," you laughed at your own joke, hand on your stomach and all, only to see his blank face, "what, not funny enough?"

"at least you're original."

Just simple conversations like this made your day, seeing him was enough to make you smile. And taunting him with winks, blowing kisses just to see him get flustered was exciting.

But nothing was better than seeing him perform with Abigail and Sam. When they invited you to watch them, you were nervous, worried that they'd grow tired of you if they kept bringing you everywhere. But you couldn't say no.

And you're happy you went, their performance was spectacular, every part of it.

Except for when Sam gave you a shout out for helping them choose their very own genre.

But it was the end that really struck, or rather afterword.

"oh my god y/n !" You have never heard sebastian raise his voice, but turning and seeing the bright smile on his face made your heart skip a beat.

And it skipped again when he pulled you into the tightest hug.

You were shocked.

"what're you even doing?" You were lost, completely confused, absolutely daft.

"I'm so glad you came, that you support us, that you support me. It just finally feels like someone, actually listens." He still didn't let go of you, he held you even closer.

You finally hugged back, inhaling his scent, his feeling, everything.

"of course I listen, I could listen to you forever." He pulled away, staring at you, a ghost of a smile on his face.

"y/n, thank you, for everything, for coming here, for bothering with us." And he laughed a little, you didn't think you'd hear it, but it rang like a bell.

You couldn't say anything, you didn't want to ruin this moment, take him away from his high.

"maybe this will be our chance to get somewhere, maybe stick around in the city, who knows." Right.

Sebastian craved for the city.

He was always looking for it.

The moment dwindled for you, losing the spark of intimacy and admiration. Sebastian had a road ahead of him, he wasn't going to ignore it.

"I'm sure you'll be able to go anywhere you want." And you smiled, basking in the moment as it began to die out. You weren't going to take this from him.

You loved Pelican Town. You were living for it now, for your farm, for your own fate.

The trip home was strange, the bus ride, sitting next to Sebastian. You wanted to tell him, hoped for him to stay with you, that Pelican Town was worth it-

"Maybe I can take you for a ride?"

"huh?"

"On the motorcycle, I'm still working on it, we can ride through the desert together." He smiled again, gentle and casual, sweet. And your face was tinted red, oh sebastian, you don't even know how much I adore you.

Days passed after that, rainy days, quiet days. The farm was flourishing, you were happy to get some relaxation in.

It was a specific rainy afternoon when you wandered down to the beach and saw Sebastian, standing at the end of the dock.

His umbrella matched his hair, and the rest of his outfit, he almost blended in with the dark watery surroundings.

"what are you doing out here?" He seemed a bit surprised, nearly losing his footing on the slipper wood, you laughed at his clumsiness.

"oh, y/n, you scared me. I'm just enjoy the rain, it's just dismal, it's awfully calming actually." Sebastian smiled and nodded his head at your gesturing for you to join him under his umbrella.

You were nervous to get so close, but of course you did, standing a bit out from under the covering.

"I've been hoping to see you, there's something I've been thinking about." Your heart was racing at these words, scared of what could come next. Your head filled with the best and worst possible outcomes.

You were brought out of it when your shoulder brushed against his, he was getting closer and closer, "you're going to freeze, come here."

And so you did, shifting closer and closer to him.

"what is it you've been thinking about?" You asked, hoping to move on from your lack of personal space, not that you had a problem.

"well, it's Pelican Town. I've been thinking a lot about how much I like this town, how much I appreciate the small environment. It's nice, secure, friendly. I'm just trying to run away, as if that will make anything better. I'm trying to run home, but I'm just running away from it," he stopped and looked at you, a somber smile on his face, "I'm running away from you."

Your heart stopped, you looked like a fish out of water standing there. But he just laughed and looked away.

" y/n, when we hug, or even when I see you, I'm home. I'm warm and safe, cared for, and hopefully- loved." There was silence, just rain hitting the gentle waves, seagulls squawking, " I sound like such an idiot. I'm sorry."

"I love you."

"what-"

"I love you, and your stupid hair, and your clothes, your eyes, your stupid smile, everything about you. I love you and your hopes and dreams, your music, your games, everything you do. I adore you-"

And he kissed you. It was brash and off centered, and you nearly took a dive off of the dock.

But he kissed you.

He tasted like cigarettes, but he also felt like home.

"but what about the city, what about getting away from here? Isn't there something you're waiting for?" You were flushed, but afraid. You didn't want to lose him after you finally got your chance.

"I've been waiting for you. There is something bigger than Pelican Town, something bigger than any city. There's you."

The rain felt like it stopped.

It was just you and sebastian under a black umbrella, smiling like idiots.

There will always be something, but there will never be something even close to you.

#sdv #sdv farmer #sdv headcanons #sdv sam #sdv sebastian #stardew #stardew valley #stardew sebastian #sdv sebstian x reader #x reader #sdv fanfic #fanfiction #stardew fanfic

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wallwriterstuff · 4 years

Text

Her Reflection ||Marcus Volturi x Reader||

Warnings: Angst city central, descriptions of grief and depression

Words: 2741

Taglist: @royalvolturisblog @thelastemzy @ferb13 @raindancer2004 @a-avaunce @broskibowser @alecvolturiswifeforever @college-is-coming @perfectcolortreestudent @volturidoll13 @vamp-army

Summary:

A request for @like-rain-or-confetti

Marcus is resolute in his grief, so much so he has refused Corin’s gift many a time. When you show up, he can’t help but realise that perhaps his centuries of suffering were enough, that the contentment you offer is far more permanent than Corin’s. Maybe, just maybe...Didyme sent you to him to give him one last chance at the happiness she loved to spread about.

You were a wonderful find.

Aro had been delighted to see you in his thoughts. He had been forced to leave the safety of Volterra for a business trip, the accounts of their business front needing attention every few decades to keep up the ruse of a modern, evolving company with changing leadership and new blood in its crew. The journey to Rome had been uneventful until they found the rogue little newborn tearing holes in a small residential area they had had to pass through. Demetri had quickly found the little fiend and as Aro took his face in his grasp, the images had raced through his mind, the regret he hadn’t taken your offer to help him strongly resonating through his body as it was mercilessly torn apart.

“Oh…Demetri…find this one.” He had murmured. Demetri did, and you had been amongst the guard now for eleven months. It had been a surprise to Marcus when you showed up with his brother as you didn’t seem to fit the Guard’s image – he wasn’t sure you knew how to be intimidating. It was clear you hadn’t come of your own volition, you were far too intelligent to be deceived into thinking Aro’s offer to join was real and clearly saw you actually had no choice at all, but still you came with a gracious smile, like you’d rather be nowhere else. After so many centuries of living and travelling as nomad you had confessed to Marcus a place to settle was nice, and despite so much time on your own you had a warm and welcoming nature that just drew the others to you.

It was all too easy to find your place when your place seemed to be everywhere and anywhere. As bitter and cautious as they were, even the twins seemed to warm to you rapidly after a few discussions. Marcus was mildly intrigued at first, but he didn’t really see enough of you to form any solid opinion on you. He only knew what he had heard, and what he had heard was that you were helpful and kind, quick to soothe pain and anger in others even if it festered in yourself. It sounded so awfully familiar to him that the raw ache in his chest, one that had never really gone away, throbbed so badly he was forced to turn his face to avoid your visage when you entered the room. Still, your voice was sugar sweet, melodic and soothing, it was a balm somehow to that pain. Months later he couldn’t say he was rid of it, he never would be rid of the pain he was sure, but it had dimmed somewhat.

His intrigue had turned to infatuation quickly when he finally let himself cast a glance at you. You were attractive to him, very pleasing to the eye though not in an exaggerated way. What made you beautiful was your personality, and it was what brought so many to your side in their efforts to win themselves a chance at capturing your affections. You turned down one after the next, the bonds you chose to make with the rest of the Guard purely founded on friendship and nothing more. Even when you grew those you coveted most it never came close to anything romantic and he was somewhat glad of that. He didn’t want to be the reason you never knew happiness, but he couldn’t help but wish that perhaps you might find it in him. There were other complications with that of course, because how could you ever give yourself to someone so broken? Was he even capable of love? How did you find happiness in someone devoid of it? He had felt it once before and this was so similar…

You had shown up more and more in the throne room, guarding them as they read. If you ever noticed his stare you didn’t say or make it obvious, but you did catch his eye once or twice and the smile you gave him warmed him inside. It had felt awful the first few times because how could he betray Didyme like that? How was it right, how was it fair, that he might get to feel any semblance of joy after his mate had gone unavenged? Was it even possible to fall in love again? Perhaps the centuries had worn away that original bond, but even that felt like a disservice to Didyme’s love, her kindness. It was enduring in ways that nothing else was. Then it hit him, you reminded him of her. The bond he could form with you was not so different to the one he had shared with her, you were too similar for it not to be.

Didyme’s gift had been happiness, the aura so inviting she had infected everyone around her with it, and while you didn’t share that gift you shared that personality. Marcus understood then, why the colour had returned to the halls as he walked them, why the sunshine seemed warmer on his skin as he passed by windows. It was you. Yet more complications came with that revelation because he was growing ever more restless (in his own lethargic way) and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hide it. How did he tell you he had grown to love you for the very same reasons he had loved her? It was like looking at her reflection distorted in a mirror, a different face and different person but the same kind of heart. You had different passions and opinions and a slightly lethal edge to your physical prowess that he found gave him comfort, for it reminded him you were not her and you were able to defend yourself in ways she hadn’t been able to, but it also finally gave him the courage to admit that yes, he did love you, he did love you and he loved you because though you were like her you were not her.

Marcus didn’t want you to think about Didyme though when you spoke to him, he didn’t want you to see yourself as a replacement for a great, epic love. Unbeknownst to him, you had enquired about the sad king the moment you arrived. Marcus’s entire being radiated such grief and pain that it had been impossible not to ask about him, and given your easy to talk to nature (and the fear of what would happen to you if you unknowingly stuck your foot in your mouth) many a guard had happily told you the reasons for his depression.

“Didyme was beautiful.”

“Didyme was always so kind.”

“She made a whole room light up when she walked into it.”

“It was the greatest love story our kind have ever seen.”

Every statement had only made your heart hurt for the man more and more. His pain was so palpable, but his interest was also obvious. For a man so broken by the loss of such a momentous love it was surprising to say the least, but you also weren’t complaining. You had no desire to see anyone feel like he did, to be so trapped in darkness, and you had made it your mission to make the throne room feel a little lighter whenever you walked into it. Marcus was rather attractive in his own way, even with the corners of his mouth pulled down and his eyes so devoid of light. You were sure with a real smile he would look radiant as his eternal youth dictated he should. The day you got to see that first wisp of a smile was the day you became more determined to see it more often. Most people had gotten so used to overlooking Marcus unless he was called upon that you were able to share subtle looks and smiles from across the room with nobody really noticing – you smiled so often it wasn’t an unusual thing to see.

It was getting close to an important anniversary, important in Marcus’s mind anyway. You had been with the Guard for almost a year and people had started to notice the effects on the quiet King. Marcus had taken to wandering the halls more often than before, enjoying the library and the music room. The Gardens would be off-limits for a while yet, the tree planted in Didyme’s honour still blooming strong every year due to Aro’s careful upkeep and too much for his heart, his eyes. It was while admiring a painting in the hall that he came across you.

“Surely, after the length of your stay with us, you have seen this piece before?” his voice was soft, a slight rasp from the disuse and lack of satisfaction in his life that had lasted so long it was difficult to get rid of it. He felt like a schoolboy when you smiled at him, and for once he embraced the feeling rather than trying to shun it.

“I have, still it amazes me.” You confessed.

“There are larger pieces.” He mused.

“Size does not guarantee quality.” Your response was accompanied by a cheeky smile that made his own lips twitch upward, that ghost of a smile upon on his lips making you sigh contentedly. Twice in one day? It must have been vampire Christmas. For a while, you stood in silence and contemplated the painting before you. It was a simple piece of artwork, the Tuscan countryside interrupted by a quaint little cottage.

“What do you see?” Marcus asked you quietly. Head tilting, you hummed thoughtfully.

“I see peace.” You voice was decisive and he couldn’t help but frown. Peace? He had studied art a lot over the centuries and he had to admit, he had never once looked at this piece twice as something he could profoundly evaluate. It was a field, it was a cottage, it was…something that felt very literal in what it was.

“Peace?” he questioned.

You hummed. “The colours are so warm, and the hills just keep rolling. This landscape stretches forever, an endless path of golden light. There is always something to look forward to ahead but so much beauty around that cottage that you would be equally as happy to stay in that moment. To be able to see the beauty in what’s around us…that is the key to peace to me.”

Marcus could only stare at the painting, trying to see what you saw. He had seen nothing but grey for so long that the warm colours still felt faded. He couldn’t really remember what true peace felt like until he became brave enough to stand beside you. You radiated it. You were so content in life it was impossible not to feel the peace of mind you carried with you everywhere you went.

“What do you see?” you asked him. He didn’t dare stare into those wine-red eyes, sure his words would flee him. Marcus cleared his throat slightly, contemplating what to say. The truth was, he hadn’t seen anything in art ever since he began to study it. He had never seen metaphors or symbolism. Art had the potential to be beautiful and breath-taking but he had lost his ability to see it, until recently. There was…something, he realised, the more he stared at it.

“I see a cottage,” he said slowly, “But it is plain. Plain yet…surrounded by warmth. Isolated, and yet beautiful…it is…it feels as though, it could be home.” There was a deafening silence after he spoke, his words carrying more weight than he had first realised, weight you clearly felt. Marcus had lived in darkness, in agony and despair, in shadows, but with you there was light, joy, and beauty. He could live that way again if you allowed him the chance to. He could find that beautiful home in you. His hand was slow, reaching for yours. For a while the tip of his little finger touching the side of your hand was all he felt, not brave enough to go any further but so desperate to. When your fingers twitched, curling around his own to link your pinkies and hold his hand loosely, he knew instinctually that you wouldn’t let go. You would help him take that last step into the light. He didn’t need to be afraid.

“Master-“

“Marcus,” he amended softly, “I wish for you to call me Marcus.”

You nodded. “Marcus, then.”

A startled little laugh escaped him, because Didyme had once said the exact same thing to him. Unknowingly, you had replicated their very first exchange. Surprised red eyes stared up at him – you had never heard him laugh before. He seemed just as shocked since he wasn’t sure he was capable of such a sound anymore.

“You…you are so like her.” he sighed wistfully. In an ideal world she would be here, but…wasn’t this ideal? A second chance was unheard of amongst their kind and he was desperate to grasp it with both hands, but he feared holding too tight and shattering the hope he was unknowingly placing in you.

"Her? I...oh...Marcus..." you trailed off. Marcus finally met your eyes, the depth of sadness in his expression something you knew now you would never be able to fully alleviate, but you could meet him in the sea of his despair and keep him afloat, couldn’t you? This kind man deserved better.

“Forgive me. I had no wish to startle you, but you remind me so much of…of Didyme.” He whispered. Your expression softened, but there was no pity there, no sympathy, only gratitude. His honesty was applaudable and the courage it must have taken to say her name, that he felt safe enough to attempt such a feat with you of all people…you were grateful. Grateful to share this quiet moment with a man you had come to greatly admire, grateful to be held in such high esteem by him.

“That makes me truly happy to hear.” you confessed. Marcus frowned, looking confused.

“It does?” he questioned. You smiled, giving your interlocked fingers the slightest squeeze. Marcus slid his palm against your own, fully taking hold of your hand now he was more confident his affections were not about to be rejected.

“The day I arrived you looked so sad. I asked around, not wanting to say anything I shouldn’t and upset you further. The tales I heard, the descriptions I was given…it is an honour to think I might remind you of her in even the smallest of ways.” Your reassurance was like a warm blanket. Feeling cocooned and safe, he lifted your intertwined hands to brush the lightest of kisses against your knuckles. The tender gesture would have made you blush if you still had the ability.

“She was truly a miracle in my life, yet for all the ways you remind me of her, you seem to have just as many differences between you two,” he murmured, “I confess…I admire the reflection of her I see in you, but I love the little things that mark you as separate from her. It felt wrong to do so, yet I could not help it.” Pursing your lips, you tried to calm your racing thoughts as Marcus watched you for any hint of reaction. He had been open and honest, taken a brave step, and he needed you to meet him halfway lest he retreat back into the shadows. Living in hope was no foreign thing for you and you didn’t just meet him halfway, you anchored him in that hope so he might never retreat again.

“It would be a privilege to help you remember what it is like to be loved.” You assured him. Marcus gave you another small smile. Over time, those smiles grew and grew until they crinkled his eyes at the corners. Some days he laughed. On one rare occasion you had gotten him to dance with you in the music room to the record playing on the gramophone. Bit by bit the light returned to his eyes until he beamed so brightly when he saw you that it was obvious to everyone the Marcus they had once known had been partially revived. Grief was a constant companion but it no longer crippled him, and in the safety of your embrace Marcus felt so far from the shadows he was certain for the first time in centuries that he was finally free of them.

#twilight #twilight fanfiction #the volturi #marcus volturi #x reader #marcus volturi x reader #aro volturi #angst #fluff #he has a whole wardrobe of business suits for the specific purpose of business trips in rome and you cannot tell me otherwise

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musicallisto · 4 years

Note

Hi, congrats on 800 followers! Can I please get a Six of Crows ship? I’m have short brown hair (I dyed red last week) and green eyes. I don't mind if im shipped with a girl or a boy. I like reading (no romantic novels), music and photography. I'm Aquarius. I’m very curious. I'm a little shy and even cold at first. I’m not good with feelings, I mostly keep them to myself if I can, but I care deeply for my loved ones and would do anything to help them, even if I'm not very good at giving advice. ☆

hi! here’s your vanilla milkshake, I hope you like it! I ship you with jesper fahey!

You don’t imagine the extent of my joy to be able to add a gif of an actual real person for Jesper... however shall I survive until Aprid 23rd?

For the longest time, you thought the world started and ended at your corner of Fjerda, in your frozen estate by the True Sea.

You were descented from minor Fjerdan nobility, and your father, jaded by Court Life and its political intrigues - and, unofficially, penniless after giving his all for the sempiternal wars on Ravka -, had decided to leave the capital and retire to his family’s estate by the sea a few years after you were born.

All you had ever known were the large, marbled corridors you’d spend entire afternoons wandering, daydreaming about adventures in the confines of the country - or living the lavish life of a true Fjerdan princess, in an outrageously enormous bed of satin sheets...

The house was spacious and beautiful, with a marvelous view over the sea, gently carrying its boats to and fro before you - and you’d stay there on the balcony in your flowy white dress, admiring the ocean until you couldn’t fight the chills of the night creeping up your spine anymore; but as tranquil and languid as your existence was, it was also terribly lonely.

All you longed for was a sibling, a friend, a partner in crime, someone you could explore the world and go on quests with...

... until a lighting bolt tore the silence, one night.

You couldn’t sleep, so you had gone on a walk by the shore as you often did - your father was never worried about it, since you knew the rocks and their cracks like the back of your hand, and would know the way back home even with your eyes closed.

But you were so absorbed by the distant twinkling of stars that you didn’t notice the shadows creeping up behind you until it was too late.

Screams in a language you can’t understand; an arm around your neck in a chokehold, another slipping under your knees; you thrash around, slice all you can, bite and claw at all you can grasp...

Your abductors know better than to let Fjerdan nobility get away from their grasp. They don’t know exactly who you are - but they’ve guessed from the distinguished aspect of your house that there’s a fine sum to gain from whoever will be willing to pay for you - your father for a ransom, or anyone else, in Kerch, who’ll make good use of your services.

Those brothels in Ketterdam pay good money for young girls, they hear - even more so for a Fjerdan pearl.

When they throw you on an overloaded carriage like a potato sack, you’re still yelling at the top of your lungs, pleading for your father, for one of your maids, for anyone to help you.

But no one hears.

You shed all the tears you have in the first night, tossed around in a dark chariot, off to somewhere unknown. Your father hasn’t prepared you for this - nothing, not even your books nor your fantastical imaginary adventures...

But you don’t intend on being sold off that easily. So you devise a plan to get away.

The first opportunity to break free presents itself when your kidnappers force you to board a ship; but they manage to catch you before you’ve run very far.

But second time’s the charm; with nothing better to do during the voyage than to bide your time and gnaw at your bonds, you’re able to slip from your captor’s watch, and blindly run through the harbor - just to get as far as possible from the stench of this floating carcass.

The first thing that strikes you is the odor. You’ve known the sea forever - it’s clear and bright as ice, and smells of fresh mornings and cold salt; never of this green rot that festers everywhere in these streets... and all those chimneys, all those people, who stare you down as you run down these grimy streets, barefoot in your off-white dress...

You understand that you’re farther from home than you’ve ever been, and it’s not a thrilling adventure, it’s terrifying and overwhelming, and you want nothing more than to burst into tears.

But you don’t, because a pair of strangers flag you down in a language you don’t understand.

A tall and lanky dark-skinned boy, wearing vibrant fabric and a self-assured grin; and possibly the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen in your life, all bright eyes and genuine frown.

Paralyzed, you open your mouth, once, twice, incapable of making the slightest sound; until the girl notices your visible discomfort, and, eyeing your pale eyes, asks in the slightest of Ravkan accents;

“Are you Fjerdan?”

You nod with all your soul. You’re ready to cling onto them both for dear life.

“What happened to you?”

Your voice fails you - you can’t explain it - you haven’t even comprehended it all. You were curled up in front of the fireplace just the night before...

“Do you have anywhere to go?”

You shake your head with despair, trying to blink back the tears.

“Come with us. We know someone who’ll help you.”

You don’t mull it over very long. Maybe it’s your sheltered uprbinging that has made you naive; maybe it’s the curiously comforting warmth you see in the Ravkan girl’s eyes; but you simply have no better option, and you can’t understand a word of Kerch, or wherever it is that this barbarian folk speak.

Although your two saviors start arguing, probably about whether or not they can reasonably take you in, your tear-stained cheeks and desperate vulnerability are enough to convince them - so you follow them.

Into the lair of the Dregs, of whom you’ve never heard - and of Kaz Brekker, who you know very well.

After all, he’s the infamous gangster who invaded your homeland, broke into the Ice Court, and stole the Shu boy - or so you saw your father read in the papers. To know that you are under the same roof as that lowlife would be enough to give your father a heart attack...

You’re half convinced that he’ll throw you back to the streets, but Nina and, surprisingly, Jesper as well, plead in your favor with a greatly convincing fervor. You learn that it’s probably because Kaz has much greater worries on his mind - the criminal group is planning on retrieving one of their own from the clutches of a treacherous business partner, or so you’ve gathered.

Either way, you’re more than happy that the terrifying and redoubtable Kaz Brekker is leaving you alone, and that you can enjoy Jesper’s company.

You two become unexpectedly good friends overtime. He comes to visit you at the Crow Club, where you’re staying, almost every day. Yet communication is not your strong suit, especially in a language you don’t understand at all, and you don’t fancy yourself a particularly enthralling girl to be around.

Not when one has lived the life of a criminal, a sharpshooter, a wanderer, a playboy... well, all those things that Jesper prises himself on being, and all those words he’s taught you in Kerch.

(That and the curse words, of course, that you’re a bit intimidated to use at first, until they slip out of your mouth one evening when you drop your plate at dinner with the Dregs, and the entire canteen falls dead silent.)

“Did she just say ‘fuck’?”

“I think she just said fuck.”

“See, Matthias, she wasn’t immediately struck by lighting by Djel’s hand. You won’t die if you say it.”

Speaking of Matthias, he’s also a good friend of yours - it’s comforting and refreshing to have a familiar face around, one of Fjerdan roots and mores.

Although the rest of the group says you’re not that Fjerdan.

“You’re one of the feisty ones, at least.”

“I’m not ‘feisty’. Shut up, Jesper.”

“Ah, I see you’ve been working on the vocabulary I taught you!”

Matthias and you both have a lot of soul-searching and unlearning to do about the outside world - you were raised in particularly bigoted environments, you somewhat less than him. The hatred for the Grisha he’s been taught by the Drüskelle is fear in your case; you’ve been brought up on bedtime stories of bloodthirsty Grisha who devour unruly kids, and war and devastation caused by their unstability and blasphemous magic.

It’s even more of a shock to you when you learn Jesper is a Grisha.

Unbeknownst to you, you’ve started to fall a little for him - how could you not? He’s funny, charming, sarcastic and witty; always has the best stories to tell, and despite it all, sincerely cares for you amidst the chaos of their heist and revenge plans.

But to learn he was the kind of monster - no, the kind of creature - no, the kind of person, you force yourself to correct mentally - that you had been taught to fear for your entire life...

“I’m so sorry. You should never have been there.”

He’s pacing back and forth in your room after a shootout has gone awry and you were caught in the crossifre; it’s the first time he’s ever had to use his Durast powers to get you of the mess - and normally he wouldn’t have, because it’s a secret he wishes he could carry to the grave, but the fear of losing you was too strong...

“Thank god that I was there, though. What would you do without me?”

He’s fidgety and restless, nervously playing with his pistols, and his nervous laugh is all but genuine; and you’re huddled up on your bed, staring him down with wide eyes.

“Jesper, you...”

“Yeah, maybe not the best moment.”

“Jesper...”

“It’s like they have a knack for knowing exactly where we’re gonna be and when...”

“Jesper!”

He abruptly turns to look at you, and his eyes widen. He’s starting to understand, almost, but refuses to believe it. Your voice is a murmur, and you can hardly hold his gaze.

“Jesper, are you... going to hurt me?”

His words die in his throat. He remembers where you’re from... the garbage that they must have filled your ears and head with from the day you were born... how feverish Matthias was with Nina... he looks at his hands, and his Materialki magic rumbles like a dark curse.

“Y/N, you’re scared of me?”

The sheer hurt in his voice breaks your heart. Even though you’re trembling, you let him step closer to you, slowly. It’s Jesper in front of you, not some ungodly monster from legends... Jesper, your Jesper...

“I’m... I’m sorry...”

He cups your face in his hands, warm and just a bit moist, and stares into your eyes with a vulnerability you have never seen in him.

“I’d never do anything to hurt you, Y/N, I swear on my life. All I want is you to be safe...”

Safe from me, if that’s what you wish, he thinks for a split second, but you don’t give him time to doubt; you’ve captured his lips in a frenzied kiss, and hold on for dear life onto his lean shoulders.

Fjerda and its blind hatred is very far from you, now. You're locked in Jesper's embrace, and you won't have to hear their lies anymore.

You know you have nothing to fear from him; not now, and not ever.

800 follower sleepover CLOSED!

#sarcasticandfangirl #800sleepover #THIS GOT SO LONG OMG i need to write for six of crows already the inspiration is unquenchable #six of crows #soc #grishaverse #ship request #jesper fahey #jesper fahey x reader #jesper fahey headcanons #six of crows headcanons

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stargazerinmoksha · 4 years

Text

be unapologetic, you asked that of me. so with every ounce of my raw honesty, i am all that i am. the sadness occasionally gnawing out of my veins and onto the page, written words inside of my handcrafted tears. i am just a moment, it’s my favorite phrase, my favorite truth. i’m not supposed to even be here, i’m not supposed to be sitting here and writing this. you asked for my truths, how could i sit there and lie to you? as if you wouldn’t immediately find out. i’ve never lied to you and said that i was perfect. i create enough space inside of my heart for you to thrive, even on your absolutely most outrageous days— i gave nothing, but love and laughter to you. i would never ask you to return that favor, but didn’t we have a mutual understanding? i don’t know where i went wrong and i won’t apologize for something that i firmly believe in. all of my love inside of poems, all of my thoughts inside of my brain, all of these words flowing out of my fingertips. i think there’s something wrong with my heart, i think there’s something wrong with the way that i love people. maybe i give too much, maybe i give too much undivided attention, maybe i should’ve just let you have your week. i’ve never been one to shelter my thoughts, i love you. every single last piece of who i was before i was given my birth name, before my mother created my eyes, hands, lips, toes, legs and organs, before i took my first breath and my soul got to know true freedom from the womb, before they split our soul into two bodies and making it back to you finally made sense to me, i loved you with all of those pieces. i still love you with all of it. you said it many times, “i see you.” have i ever asked anything from you that would dishonor you or bring you shame? i’ve never made you feel suffocated, have i? i swear that i pray now more than ever because of you. they say that people find their faith when they’re at their lowest point, but i found mine when i was at my highest. if i can’t love you at your worst, darling, i don’t deserve you at your best. it took everything out of me to not look at you, not like i’d see much, i’m blind as shit haha. it took everything out of me to not write to you, i’ve never not written to you. it took everything out of me to not run up and speak to you because i’ve never been afraid of our conversations. i love the way your mind works and how it’s always everywhere, just like mine. i love that you’re a raging sea with calm and gentle waves. i love that you’re a fiery spirit with loyal tendencies that speaks to me spiritually. you always tell me to never make excuses, so i won’t. i don’t know how to not look at you like you gave the petals upon tender gardens purpose to soak in the sun. i don’t know how to not talk to you like this conversation will be my last, so i stutter and just never shut up. i don’t know how to not write to you because after all of these years of not knowing what it was to meet yourself inside of someone, i met you and by loving you, i’ve found more things to love about myself. you tell me to not let you get quiet, but i will make no excuses. i will never apologize for something that i did right. it would to against my core values and beliefs. i would not be the soul that you love if i wavered, even if it’s just for a moment. not even for you. you tell me to believe in myself, to have confidence, to always stick up for myself, to always have faith in love and kindness even if you can’t spare some for yourself most days. i know you’re running kind of thin and you’re hurting. i don’t know what tomorrow holds for me in a those hands, but i do know about right now. i could die tomorrow and if writing this to you is my last thing, it wouldn’t be so bad. i’ve made peace with my life, my death, my mistakes, my rights, my longings and my quest to understand myself as a spiritual being having a very human experience. maybe you’re pushing me away as to not be hurt once i am no longer around. maybe you don’t have the heart to hear the sound of my voice anymore. my happy frequency inside of such strong hands—

my aurora borealis doesn’t ask twice when she gets angry, she just does things. i know that i may have said the wrong thing, but don’t ask for my truths and my honesty if you’re not going to talk to me anymore. you tell me that you are no longer my concern and the truth is that’s a lie. from the moment god placed you in front of me, you are all i’ve truly been concerned about. as i to you. you can sit there and tell yourself whatever it is that you want, but i’ve never shied away from loving you, from telling you the truth because you have always given that to me. all of the reasons as to why i’m writing this, all of the reasons as to why i won’t give up on you. because giving up on our connection is like giving up on myself and i have done that before, i no longer live that. i choose to be present in my life. i have always answered to the sun and asked for the moon’s hand— i have spent my mornings praying for safer nights. i have never met myself inside of another, i have never felt like my reflection could make me cry, but when i think about the life that we won’t be able to spend together in this one, it does make me sad. but isn’t that the best part? our friendship isn’t defined by something as simple as forever and always. it’s far more like a cosmic knocking asking for my stars and galaxies to be seen inside of my poetry. you once asked me why i loved you so much. why i did anything for you. why i was always there for you. because my best friend has a soul just like mine. you don’t need to feel beautiful or sound intelligent to be as such. you just need to be yourself. even if you’re hurting, i accept you. even if you’re cold, i accept you. even if you’re sick, i accept you. even if you’re broke, i accept you. even if you push me away, i accept you. even if you no longer love me, i accept you. i see you. i see you as much as you have always seen me. my sweet orange one with her longing gaze, i hope that you’re sleeping well. all of my wishes and prayers have always been filled with good intent for you. i know the days are long and you just want to feel something. i know the days are full of questions and your mind is does wander— i know you wonder if you’re even supposed to be here at all. i know your life isn’t perfect and love hasn’t been kind to you. you tell me that i am your most healthy and stable relationship and i have never thought anything less about you. i don’t know if your legs are rocking itself to sleep or if you’re alone again. i don’t know if you’re hurting about everything and just want to be left alone, but i won’t let you go quiet on me. you’re right. i love you too fucking much. i won’t apologize for loving you in that way. you’re me. you’re who i was before i got my birth name. you’re who i still am after my soul was split into two. my dear orange, i hope you wake up with a smile and read this knowing that i will always love you. i’m not going anywhere and i’m not leaving. i can’t. you’re all that i am. you really are. for all of the things we didn’t say last night, i’ll say it for us. i won’t be letting you go, i create all of this space for you to thrive. i create space for you to breathe. i create space for you to love. i hope your legs successfully sent you into a deep sleep that brought about beautiful dreams. i don’t need my chakras to be in excess or to be too low— so i’ll let you know, my third eye has always known that i can’t just let things be as it is. i’m here. you know where how to reach me. i just wanted you to know that much about me— when i love, i love with everything. and everything to me is that smile, so even if you don’t talk to me today, i hope that you’re smiling and laughing loudly. thank you for reading. i love you.

—you’re my quest.

#poetry #spilled ink #prose #poems #quotes #twin flame 🔥#my aurora borealis ♡

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project-ohagi · 4 years

Text

Keigo Takami ღ Hawks x Reader:

Buy me a coffee!! <3

[A/N]: Making an effort to keep these gender-neutral now, and to miss out trigger words where possible, but that being said...

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of Past Suicide Attempts, Suicide.

Light Manga Spoilers

----

Atop this building, the echoes of a life fraught with pain married the voice that demanded a permanent silence. Your thoughts were far from temporary, existing in the day-to-day and littering your heart with scars. They were the authority, final and absolute. But their origins, although rooted deep within the past...they weren't the reason you were here. Their influence was limited, overshadowed by a darker reality - something that compelled you, an innocent, to such an extreme...something that murdered your mind, gave it acquiesce to sit upon this rooftop, while the rain cascaded around. 'Twas the death of your heart, your home, your love...The heavens had opened, as if hearing your call, your plea for ascension. You had a future there, whereas here, on this lonely Earth, you did not.

Over the last few years, you'd slowly begun to phase out what seemed of little importance. First: intimate contact with anyone, be it friend, relative, acquaintance or stranger. Second: contact in all its forms. Third: the way to shirk responsibility and all trains of thought - sleep. The circles under your eyes were becoming quite prominent. And finally: food. You couldn't bear to set the table for one, so you didn't set it at all.

"Do you think I can reach the stars?" Your words were but whispers, void of a sprightly edge. You whispered to Keigo, as you had on occasions past. "'If kisses were stars, I would give you the sky'. Who was it...who said that? Well...it's true. I would give you the sky, without rhyme or reason, or even question...if only the angels would allow."

Keigo was the only one to whom you resolved to speak. His presence lingered in the halls of your home, in your place of employment, and everywhere you ventured. If a breath of cold air was of particular fancy, then Keigo's memory was certain to join. You still spoke, still vented...still cried, all to him. In life, he'd given you everything - every small part of him, for safekeeping. In death, he stole away your heart and soul.

"Life was easier with you here." You sighed, repeating the words like a mantra, as if they were your last. "It was better."

Of course, that was something he'd know, regardless of circumstance. Whether in life, death or rebirth...Keigo would've known. Leaving you behind, leaving you lost and broken, wandering this plain until your angels granted the courage you so desperately needed...it hadn't been a conscious decision. You'd never doubt that. Never. Not in a million years. You'd understood the pressure he was under, the ever-mounting workload and that...that job. He'd made it clear that to refuse would be outrageous. You'd known he didn't have a choice. And you'd never blamed him. Not once.

A tear slipped down your cheek, ghosting across the newly-formed smile, which was gentle in character but woven from the silver threads of sorrow. "I've...I've tried this before. I'm sure you know. I've just...I've never wished to live without you. I've tried, but it's hard...and I'm so tired."

Tried you had, when neither blistering summer nor frigid winter could trouble your mind. It was focused, always. And on occasion, you'd been saved, rescued by a hero who knew little of life's torment, and nothing of that with which you were afflicted. You hoped they'd never know, never discover everything wrong with life. You'd been thankful to them, for chasing away the Reaper. But nothing lasts forever, and everything that exists within the clutch of nature must eventually wither. Only this time...you prayed that no-one would save you. Left to your own devices, the path you chose was right. It must've been.

It could be the cure for this poisonous mixture of pain, grief and lassitude. "Can you...come back to me?" Your tears fell in no uniform manner, but you hadn't the energy to wipe them. They couldn't be seen by another being, and only you felt their heartache on your tongue. "...You can't. I know you can't. Can you try?...Please? I just want you back. I just...want you home."

Then maybe...maybe I wouldn't have to do this. Maybe I wouldn't have to hurt my family and my friends...maybe I'd have a place in this world, again. Maybe I'd feel like I mattered, like I felt with you.

But even if you begged all those blinking stars, all the gods and the angels in Heaven...you knew it wouldn't make a difference. Fate was written, after all - predetermined...and any effort to change it had thus fallen flat. Keigo always joked about his history, but the enduring memories of abuse and neglect must have caused his heart inordinate distress. He shared those memories with you, of course, though never in too thorough detail. You were glad for it - a sad life story at the expense of his current happiness was a trade you weren't ever willing to make. No true lover would.

Your mind cycled through each stage of your life, from childhood's hour to your teenage years, to meeting Keigo, to almost marrying him, to...to losing him. The look in your eyes was so distant, as though you wished to be anywhere but here. Well...you would be, soon. Everything prior to this, every failed attempt...they weren't failures, per say. You just hadn't been ready.

But now you were.

Any moment now, at your mind's instruction, you would wander to the edge of this building, and then...you would fall. After years of trial, of anguish and isolation...you would finally be free.

"I don't want to forget that plan we had, the future we mapped out for ourselves. Please tell me you remember it. Please tell me we can act on it." You whispered up at the stars, straining for any hint of response.

None came, and none ever would. It would've taken a miracle, preferably administered by an angel, over a demon. But certainties were things best saved for story books, and those who charted fate. Your legacy lay beside you, and though not carried away by the wind, the rain had served to dampen it. 'Twas a small note, ripped from a page. On it, you had inked words which might once have been imbued with a potent despair, but which now betrayed not an ounce of emotion. The ink had dripped. It wasn't a first draft; you had written it many times over, getting shorter and more concise, until it simply read:

This is no-one's fault. There is nothing tethering me to this life, any longer. Please accept that, alongside my apology: I'm sorry.

And that time, when you smiled...it was the very last time. "I'm ready to fall. I'll meet you shortly, Keigo."

[Word Count: 1115]

#my hero academia #angst #trigger warnings #death #suicide #keigo takami #keigo takami x reader #bnha hawks #bnha hawks x reader #hawks x reader #my hero academia imagine #possible old-timey language

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valhallasubstitute · 4 years

Text

Yours, And Only Yours Pt.3

-- Sihtric x virgin!reader

After travelling with Uthred for many months the fact that you’re still a virgin is revealed in a drunken confession, from that moment on Sihtric can’t help but thinking of making you his… Well now you are his, and he intends to keep it that way.

part one, part two

A/N: So here we are at the suggestion of anon Gods. Shout out to @thecoochamchronicle for helping me, you were truly a creative blessing :)

WARNINGS: SMUT 18+, oral m receiving, unprotected sex – it’s the ninth century, they have an excuse you don’t. A lil fluffy in parts

Wc: 2550

Sihtric was a good lover. He was gentle, attentive, forthcoming. He was all you could ever want.

Not that you had anything to compare him with.

It had been weeks since Sihtric had taken your virginity and in that time he had taught you things about pleasure that you assumed only the Gods could have knowledge of. His love made you feel beautiful, desired and confident. How could you not when a warrior such as Sihtric shared your bed every night?

Other men had noticed the change in you. The way you swung your hips to entice your lover as you walked past, how freely you flirted, how you mixed foreplay and sword play. It was clear that Sihtric had awakened something in you that other men admired.

Your lover was not blind to their gaze and he didn’t mind, not initially. It both amused and aroused him that other men wanted what they could not have. That you would deny all but him.

But there was only so much a man could take.

It was nearing mid-winter and Uhtred’s expedition was far from over. You were hunting Danes and in the company of Saxons. Sihtric would have preferred it the other way around, Danish men respected his claim, respected your fire. In his mind the Saxons only wanted to hump you and put out the spark in you that he loved.

You were oblivious.

Which made your friendship with Jorin all that more frustrating to him. The boy, for that was what he was, was a little older than Osferth, twice the size and had triple the confidence.

Sihtric would watch Jorin proposition you again and again, his words disguised as friendly banter.

Sihtric would watch Jorin appreciate the show you put on for him and him alone, he made no attempt to hide his desires.

Sihtric would watch Jorin leer to all that would listen about how he intended plough you, as if you were a field to be worked and not a woman to be worshiped.

You liked him, Uhtred needed him, Finan tolerated him.

Sihtric despised him.

-*-*-*-

You could feel Sihtric’s anger as you sat between his legs, as you gazed up at him you could see his jaw clenching relentlessly. One of his hands rested on your shoulder, the other clutched a mug of ale, though he had scarcely touched it. It did not worry you, he had been in a foul mood for days, seemingly only happy when you were alone. You took joy in being alone with Sihtric too, even now the idea sent a little thrill through you. You would like to do more than just sit between his thighs.

You stood abruptly and the talk around the fire stopped for only a moment but that was time enough for Sihtric to eye your rear. After nodding to your companions you turned to Sihtric, you bent and brushed your lips against his jaw, aiming to ease the tension that resided there and help build an altogether different kind. The way his fingers ghosted over the back of your thigh told you all you needed to know.

The walk to your tent should have been a short one but the call of your name halted you. The sight of your friend Jorin brought a smile to your lips. He was funny, his outrageous confidence amused you greatly. The boy talked as if he had balls the same size as a giants.

The conversation was brief, nothing more than an extended greeting and then you were on your way again. That was until you heard Sihtric’s name on Jorin’s tongue.

A tent acted as your cover. Curiosity had your feet glued to the ground and your ears straining to hear.

‘Lord Sihtric.’

‘I am no lord, boy.’

‘And I am no boy, your woman can testify to that.’

‘You talk out of your arse.’

‘Mmh that may be true Lord, but regardless you should keep your bitch on a tighter leash. She does entice even the most docile of beasts.’

‘You are a cockless pup and you are unworthy.’

‘Unworthy?’

‘To look at her, if I catch you again I will take your eyes.’

‘Are you threatening me Dane? She will not like that.’

‘Speak another word and I shall have your tongue as well.’

You had heard enough.

You walked to your tent and paced the length of it at least three times before familiar arms wrapped around you from behind. He smelled of woodsmoke and the earth and leather. Your anger evaporated.

‘I hope I did not keep you waiting for too long.’ You hummed in response, leaning your head back onto his shoulder, pressing your face into his.

‘Long enough. What kept you?’ You knew but you wanted to hear him explain it.

Sihtric did not respond, simply moved around you and brought your lips to his in a kiss with more passion that you had anticipated. His lips were always plush and begging to be bitten, you only stopped for air.

‘You taste of apples.’ His voice was raspy and low, filled with promise. You would hold him to that promise, but not yet.

‘And you taste like you’re not being honest with me.’ Sihtric rolled his eyes and sighed. You ran your hands down his arms, appreciating the feel of them before taking his hands in yours. You knew his hands like you knew your own and you felt the abnormality immediately. The skin was broken and raw, the force of his punch evident. You could only imagine what Jorin’s face looked like. ‘I hope you didn’t beat him too badly. I don’t want to lose you to guard duty each night as punishment.’

‘You saw?’ You watched his eyes grow wide, just a hint of panic emerging.

‘I heard. He is not the friend I took him for.’

‘He deserved what he got, he should not have spoken about my woman that way.’ His eyes bore into yours as he spoke, such sincere conviction in his voice that you could not help but caress his cheek. Sihtric leaned into your touch. You loved the man that stood before you, his warmth, his quiet humour, the impulsiveness that he could not shake no matter how many times it ended in a fight. You had made the right choice when you had given yourself to him. A choice you would make over and over again.

‘Are you sure he knows that? That I am your woman.’ You spoke the words quietly, a purr practically dripping with lust. You could feel his jaw tighten once more against your palm.

‘When he sees how you cannot walk tomorrow he will know it to be true.’

‘Is that so Sihtric?’

‘I have never lied to you Y/N.’

‘That is true … I think there is a more important lesson that Jorin should learn though.’ Sihtric hummed in response, a small frown creasing his brow. Evidently he thought your words held importance, and as far as you were concerned they did. ‘He should learn that not only do I accept your claim on me as your woman, but that I choose you as my man.’

The look in Sihtric’s eye was one you could bask in forever. It had not been the sex that had changed you, but the love in his gaze that made you feel like Freya herself. It was only right that you should prove to him that your gaze would never wander, your legs never open for another, that your heart would never beat for anyone else, other than the children you wished to give him.

Sihtric’s hands went to your hips, pulling them flush to his while you brought his lips to yours. It was a battle of wills, neither of you willing to yield in your want for the other.

You walked him to the bed of furs, removing clothes as you went. The night air was cool but it wasn’t the breeze that you’re your body covered in goose bumps. Everywhere Sihtric touched felt like you had been set on fire.

You pushed him onto the bed with a final shove. You removed your clothes slowly, relishing him the way Sihtric’s eyes devoured you, inch by inch. The desire in your belly only grew as you crawled on top of him, you could feel his arousal twitch between your thighs as you straddled him.

He made to touch you but you took his large hands and pinned then above his head with your own. The action brought you face to face, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise but he made no attempt to free himself as your breath mingled.

The smirk on his face was unbearable and utterly inviting. Your lips pressed to his, a deep moan escaping him as you nipped at his bottom lip.

You kissed from his mouth to his neck, from his neck to his chest, leaving your mark as you went. Purple circles in the shape of your mouth mixing with sliver scars and battle worn, sun kissed skin.

You continued your assault further and further south until you had him in your mouth. You watched through half lidded eyes as he battled to keep his gaze fixed on you as you worked his length with your tongue.

You knew your lover well, the light hitch in his breathing, the sigh of your name and the way his fists bunched the bed linen told you that he was near his end.

Sihtric’s hand flew to your hair, the grip tight enough to cause a dull ache to spread across your scalp. His grip guided your mouth away from his cock, both of you groaning at the loss of contact. He sat up and pulled you towards him on your knees.

His thighs acted as your support as you guided his cock into you. His chest was flush with your own, hard panels of muscle brushing against your nipples as he thrust up into you. You would never tire of the feeling of him inside you. Stretching you, filling you, hitting all the right spots that made you want to scream.

You had no doubt that the people outside your tent could hear what was going on, it was not a rare occurrence but tonight you had a point to prove.

The chant of Sihtric’s name slowly raised in volume, while your hips ground down on him he had taken to claiming your neck and collarbones, anywhere he could reach with this tongue. A nip to the soft of your ear caused a loud moan to fall from your lips.

His breathing was loud and hot against your neck, his own moans mixing with grunts and muffled calls of your name.

He shifted you in his lap, the new angle allowed him to thrust himself deeper into you, his grip on your hips like a vice. It would have taken the strength of a thousand warriors to stop the cry that left you. Sihtric tried to silence the sound with his mouth.

‘Shh he does not get to hear the noises you make for me, my love.’

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head in both pleasure and exasperation, the man asked the impossible. As if to prove himself Sihtric doubled his efforts. The pace he set made it impossible for you to match but the friction it placed on your clit was euphoric. Your hands dragged along his back, his chest, his arms. His body was too much. It was all consuming and you lost yourself in the feel of him.

Your orgasm blind sighted you, pleasure shattering you as you panted into his shoulder. Sihtric’s movement’s didn’t falter as he worked you through your climax, merely whispering sweet nothings and praises into your ear.

Just as before you knew when Sihtric was close, those fast little sighs in your ear giving him away. You began to match his pace once more, your hands went to his hair, half massaging, half gripping it as you slammed yourself down on him. After your own orgasm it was as if you gripped him from the inside out. You were impossibly tight and the strangled moan that came from the back of Sihtric’s throat as he came assured you that it was too much to bare in the best of ways.

You were both breathing heavily when Sihtric fell back onto the furs and you followed, collapsing on top of him. His arms wrapped around you, securing you to his chest as you gently kissed his neck.

‘I hope the boy will understand now.’ Sihtric’s voice was steady, you could tell the thought of Jorin did not bother him anymore. ‘I don’t think Uhtred will be as forgiving if I have to beat the boy for a second time.’

You whacked his chest lightly and the man beneath you flinched in mock pain.

‘Uhtred can say nothing of doing something stupid over a woman. It’s in his nature…’ Sihtric laughed openly now, his chest rumbling and shifting beneath you. ‘If the boy doesn’t understand then I’ll just have to tell him that I am yours, and only yours Sihtric. Not that it should ever need saying. And that will always be the way of it.’ You didn’t need to look at him to know he was smiling, the image was so firmly imprinted on your brain that it didn’t take any conjuring.

‘You are my heart Y/N.’

Sleep took you then, Sihtric’s heartbeat and the soft howl of the night wind becoming the perfect lullaby.

-*-*-*-

You were woken up by Finan calling your names, threats of leaving without you and Uhtred’s wrath. Even went as far as to threaten throwing a bucket of water on you if you didn’t shift your arses.

You and Sihtric did so begrudgingly.

Despite this neither of you could hide the little smiles on your faces. Your legs ached and you knew the ride today would be a bastard one. But it was worth it.

Stepping out of the tent with Sihtric, your hands interlaced, was an experience that you had not anticipated. You could feel the blush spread from your neck up to your ears. Everyone in view had taken notice of your current … state.

‘Jesus Christ where you attacked in the night Sihtric?’ Finan’s eyes were ablaze with amusement and approval. The Irishman shook his head with a smile as Sihtric smirked at him. You patted your friend on the back before tying up your hair. As soon as your neck was exposed Finan gasped, his joy and appreciation for a good night under the fur evident on his face.

‘You too Y/N? Mary mother of Jesus, you look worse than he does… and that’s saying something.’

Sihtric spoke before you, he was looking at neither you or Finan. Instead his eyes were fixed on Jorin, the boys face was pale and bruising as he sat by the fire, his own gaze going anywhere but you.

‘She does entice even the most docile of beasts.’

‘And you are no docile beast, my friend.’

#the last kingdom #tlk #tlk fanfic #sihtric x reader #sihtric x virginreader #sihtric kjartanson #sihtric kjartanson x reader #sihtric #smut #finan #inga writes

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sophi-s · 4 years

Text

Cost of Kindness

Chapter I: Chance encounter

By: sophi-s

Fandom: Darksiders video games

Words: 6,471

Characters: Original female character (OC), Raphael

Warnings: Graphic description of corpses, blood and injuries, disturbing imagery, swearing

Summary:

Life of a human after the apocalypse is difficult. The world seems to always be against them. Still, they keep on living. But one day something unexpected happens to one of the inhabitants of Haven. A woman named Nicola discovered something... or rather someone... who seemed to be in equally as sorry state as her entire race put together. Nothing was the same ever since. It's curious how one seemingly random event can change everything...

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Nicola got lost again. All the promises she made to both Ulthane and Jones have gone into trash when with a pang of worry she's suddenly realised she does not know where Haven is. It was supposed to be a short supply run, a little trip to some ruined store in search of food and maybe some medicine if luck wished to be on her side and it turned into a whole day long journey. She hadn't been careful enough and ended up getting spotted. She was too fast for that Trauma to get to her before she disappeared into a narrow alley but she successfully lost her orientation.

Navigating through the city used to be so easy before all this apocalypse nonsense. Nicola knew her way around better than anyone honestly. Now everything looked different. What once was her home now seemed sinister and the animosity could be felt in every, even the tiniest speck of dust. All streets, previously so familiar to her, looked exactly the same, often cut in half by obsidian spikes and pits of boiling magma which made moving around even more troubling. In short words, the entire place was a wreckage. With each moment of aimless wandering, her panic was growing. Inwardly cursing, thinking about all the reprimanding she would get after she somehow finds her way back and the fact that she's most likely going to get grounded forever, she tried to move through the street as quietly as possible, without causing any unnecessary noises. Becoming an evening snack for a pack of Goreclaws or a Trauma wasn't a very attractive fate. The latter could still be around here somewhere and the blood spilling from a cut on her forehead she got when she accidentally ran into a wooden beam protruding from a wall wasn't going to make it harder for it to eventually find her again.. It was very unlikely that the Trauma could've gotten stuck in that alley after it tried to get to her. They are dumb. But not that dumb. Though the mental image alone was quite hilarious now that she thinks about it.. To some extent imagining a Trauma helplessly shuffling to try and unstuck itself from a narrow pathway made her feel a tad better, even crack a little smile. Still, she had to think of something. She'd already lived through too much to just die at this point.

Evening? Clutching a shotgun in her shaking hands, Nicola looks out at the amber sky and her heart hastens when she realises that it really is getting late. The last rays of sun were slowly sinking behind the horizon, slowly turning the sky from warm orange to indigo as the tall buildings bathed the city in deep shadows stretching over the ground like dark omens. Just perfect. There was no other choice for her than to hide somewhere and wait until dawn and resume her search tomorrow, hoping someone will start looking for her. Going anywhere after the dusk was an equivalent of a suicide. Demons and the Wicked tend to be especially active after the nightfall.. Nicola would rather not bump into one of the Suffering either, those things are especially nasty. Hulking, four-armed abominations melded with bodies of the dead, bringing back all those poor souls who weren't lucky enough to get away… she shudders at the thought and hastens her pace.

Most of the houses were already destroyed and usually infested with all kinds of detestable creatures she'd rather avoid - from Wicked, through all kinds of demons and Duskwings, to enormous spiders ready to cocoon any unfortunate passerby for a snack - unfit to be a shelter. But honestly, what wasn't crawling with Hellspawn these days? They were everywhere, as far as the sight can reach. Heaving out a long suffering sigh, Nicola decided to hide underneath the city, hoping she won't find any monsters there.

That was not one of her most brilliant ideas but in truth whatever she chose, it would be just as bad and she hardly cared at this point. Her legs felt as though they went a couple of inches up her arse from all day of walking and running and her empty stomach growled hungrily as she didn't get a chance to stop and eat a sandwich hidden in her backpack. It didn't take long to find a lid of a well leading to the sewers below. Just in case, Nicola dug some new shells out from her backpack and shoved them into her pocket to have easy access to them before pulling the lid out and uncovering a stinking hole in the pavement. The strong "aroma" that drifted out hit her like a brick to the face.

"Ugh.."

Nicola groaned, pinching her nose. Even after the literal armageddon, she still found sewers to be one of the grossest things ever. Like, come on, that's where all the piss and shit goes and a person who enters the sewers for even a minute comes out coated in this stench. Oh well.. It can't be worse than getting torn to shreds by a Goreclaw, can it? Up here was definitely worse than below. Everything she'd met so far - except for Ulthane, Yarin and Elanya - was trying to kill her lately. At least there was no sign of the Big Bad anywhere… Nicola had seen the so-called Destroyer only once and it was enough to last her a lifetime, considering how close she'd been back then. The fact that he didn't spot her, she probably owed the fact that she was somewhere to his right and from what she'd seen his right eye wasn't exactly in good condition. Though, she couldn't deny that the dragon did look sick as Hell - she cringed inwardly at the bad joke her mind produced - and if she wasn't scared shittless and in danger of getting eaten or burned alive, she probably would've taken out her notebook and tried to sketch him. Not often does one see a dragon up this close and Nicola had a habit of drawing anything even remotely interesting she sees. And the more challenging the thing is, the better. In her sketchbook, she already had Ulthane and his younger companions, Vulgrim, some other demons and a Fallen. The last thing she did see pretty damn close. Too close for her liking.

Pulling her stained, dark-blue neckerchief up to her nose as a mostly useless mask against the foul smell, she crouches down and with a loose piece of a brick scratches out a message on the ground, hoping either Jones or some other survivor will find it.

I'M IN THE SEWER

NIKA <3

Just to make it clear, she tears a piece of her already ragged sleeve off and places it under the aforementioned brick next to the message. It's not much but it has to be enough… Without further ado, Nicola slid inside the dark hole and closed the lid above her head. Utter blackness immediately closed around her like a thick coverlet. A quiet sound of dripping, echoing through the tunnel was all that she could hear.

Plip. Plop. Plip. Plop.

Should've thought about taking out a flashlight before cutting off the only source of light.

Grumbling under her breath, Nicola jumped down from a small ladder. But instead of landing on the hard and straight ground, her feet connected with something soft and uneven. With a small yelp, she lost her balance and fell flat onto the actual floor with a wet "Thwack!". Please just be regular water… She begged the puddle underneath her as she scrambled to her feet and pulled the backpack from her shoulders. For a few minutes, she blindly searched through her things, probing for the light source. When her fingers found the flashlight and she turned it on however, she nearly screamed.

That thing she landed on wasn't a mound of garbage like she previously assumed but a body. Body of a dead Phantom General. Its skin was in an unhealthy pallid shade, misty eyes were bulging out of their sockets. And the squishy bit she landed on was its face. Nicola nervously laughs to herself

"Maybe the stench killed him?"

The thought of a large demon dying in a sewer just because it smells bad was kind of amusing and a little comforting. But then she realised that if that was the case, then there's nothing to laugh at. What if there are some poisonous gases in here? Hydrogen sulfide, for example? If it killed a demon, undoubtedly much more hearty, then why shouldn't it do so with a human?

"Shit.. I hope not…"

Nicola curses and immediately presses the neckerchief closer to her face like it would do her any good. Well, no point in wondering about it now. If she were to get poisoned then she probably already was so… Father would be so disappointed if he found out she died in a sewer by inhaling toxic gas. I should've paid more attention to chemistry lessons… Anyway.. Standing here will not make it any better. She might as well find herself a place to rest for a while or forever. Unless healing shards work on that stuff, she had nothing on her to help should she get poisoned. Flinging her backpack over her shoulder, Nicola turns away from the corpse and peers into the dark pathway which opened before her like a gullet of a gargantuan monster waiting to swallow her whole. Having absolutely no idea that this choice would change her miserable life forever, she takes a breath and bravely moves onward.

The Phantom General wasn't the only one. As Nicola walked deeper into the dark, stinking corridor, she noticed more bodies. Goreclaws, Wicked, Phantom Guards, even a couple of Duskwings and - this was the most unsettling discovery - the serpentine Shadowcaster… all of them pale and wizened. An unnerving feeling grew in her stomach. Nicola had seen much death as of late but this… this was horrifying. It was like walking through a tomb or a mass grave. Up close she could see something she hadn't noticed before. Something that made her mouth turn sandpaper. All of the bodies seemed… dried for the lack of a better word. As though something had drained them of their blood, leaving only shriveled husks behind. But there were no wounds, no markings. Nicola gulps at the thought that whatever killed them might still be down here with her.

Backing away, she takes a turn into another section and curls up in a corner by a metal grate blocking the way ahead. Nicola turns the flashlight off and hugs her knees to her chest, trying to control her fearful breathing. Climbing down into the sewers wasn't such a good idea after all. What if… what if there are things far worse down here than the demons she'd already seen? Her parents often scared her with stories of monsters lurking in the dark pipes and winding tunnels when she was a child but those were only supposed to keep her away from the sewers. The true reason was always the toxic miasma drifting through them. Or so she thought as she grew older. Now it seems that the former turned out to be true… And if it murdered a Shadowcaster just like that, then it was a creature to be reckoned with, no doubt.

Whatever it is that hides in here, Nicola didn't want to meet it. Whether it was a classic sewer monster, grotesque, with teeth and tentacles, or something else it didn't matter. Looking down at her left wrist, where her blessedly still working electrical watch with sun batteries was, she squinted at the numbers it showed.

7:48 P.M.

This was going to be a long night… If she survives this, she would get out and return to the Tree, and tell Ulthane she will never leave again. Essentially, she'd ground herself for him. If she could find her way back, that is.. And this might prove rather tricky. Maybe if she could find a Serpent Hole and bribe Vulgrim to take her to Haven, it would be much easier. But then again, she will have to give him something. Aside from her soul, she had nothing he would be interested in and that she could still make use of. Damn it, why is it so cold in here? Pulling the zip of her vest up to her chin, she curls up even more and hides her hands in her pockets to seek any warmth she could find. The stench wasn't even phasing her anymore. Nicola got used to it after the first few minutes. Besides, her fear was what she was mostly focused on. At least she didn't feel anything that would hint at being poisoned.. Whatever deadly stuff was down here before must've dispersed some time after the apocalypse after the disuse of the sewers. And thank God for that..

Meow…

Her head snapped up at the echo coming from the tunnel she backed out from. It was very weak and quiet but she definitely heard something that sounded vaguely like a cat. A very small and very scared cat.

Meow…

There it was again. This time accompanied by a barely visible flash of light coming from the tunnel further down. Cursing her innate curiosity, she pulled herself up to her feet and snuck towards the entrance to her little hidey-hole. The light appeared again before slowly fading. It looked a little like… like someone was coming here with a broken flashlight. Could it… could it be someone from the Tree? Maybe another survivor lost their way in the sewers? Picking up her shotgun, she decides to check it out, the thoughts of a monster not forgotten per se, but definitely pushed to the back of her mind. Wary of every step she makes, she follows the light and the sounds of a distressed animal. Sleep was never an option anyway..

As she walked onwards, the lights were getting brighter, the meowing louder and the pounding of her heart faster. There were more corpses in various states of decay and skeletons strewn about the further she headed but she decided to stay brave. Should anything attack her, she has the shotgun at the ready. Something in her head laughed at her hysterically. How can she be so naive to think that if there's a monster down here her pathetic shotgun can do it much harm? It didn't have a problem with killing all those things. Why would it have a problem with Nicola and her weak human weapon? Besides, even if she did manage to defend herself, one shot from that thing would bring half of the city down on her head. And that was something she definitely wanted to avoid.

Meow!

Another flash. Her surroundings were slowly starting to change. The bodies were left behind and she started to notice wooden crates lying here and there as though someone meant to hide the passage further down. Was this a hide out if some sort? Flash again.

Meow!

And then…

"Hush, little one… I won't let them hurt you again…"

Nicola's heart hastened when a shaky voice reached her. There really was someone down here! However, she doesn't let her ecstasy control her. They don't necessarily have to be friendly. Everyone is permanently scared and paranoid since the apocalypse and if she jumped out from a dark sewer without a warning she's more likely to receive a bullet to the face than a warm welcome. A flash, very bright this time. Before, she didn't notice it but the light was actually… green? Soft, soothing shade of green. Who uses a green flashlight? Someone who didn't have any other. We're in an apocalypse, for God's sake. Shrugging, she sneaks up towards the turn and carefully peeks into the new corridor, unable to take the anticipation any longer. And she freezes.

There were many things Nicola expected to find. Even the sewer monster was higher on her list of possibilities. But not this. Before her, approximately fifteen feet or so, in a makeshift shelter made out of ratty curtains and wooden boxes sat a humanoid figure. They were wearing some sort of metal shoulder pads on their ragged, dark green clothing, worn and stained, once undoubtedly fine knee-high boots, and a tattered and dirty hood. The gilded edges of their pauldrons were smudged and tarnished, as were the clips of the belts on their hips and across their chest. A pair of disheveled, dusted grey, feathery wings was closed around them like two shields protecting their sides and keeping the warmth in the resulting heat cave. Through a gap between the feathers, she noticed strands of long, white hair in the similar state as the wings spilling from under the hood.

This was one of those… those angels who came as the apocalypse began. Only… This one didn't seem like the rest. They didn't look like one of the warriors. And were unarmed at that, she realises once she doesn't catch a sight of any sort of weapon nearby.

Meow!

Nicola heard it clearly now, and trying to track down the source of the sound, her eyes wandered to a hand of the angel, one which they held close to their chest. And there, on their large palm rested a tiny ball of fluff with its fur clogged with blood. The angel was hunched over a wounded kitten, and from time to time they brought up the other hand and gently ran their trembling fingers wrapped in stained bandages over the jagged claw mark along its spine. The green light flared up from angel's fingertips as gradually the wound was stitching itself. A sorcerer then. If meeting Shadowcasters was any indicator, then it would be better not to mess with this one.

Meow!

The kitten cried again and the angel, now she was pretty sure it was a male, spoke with a soft and calming, but shaking voice that reached to the depth of her soul.

"Fret not… it will be over. Soon enough."

In honesty, Nicola really had to stop herself from making a loud "awww" noise as she watched this angel treat a tiny injured kitten. How did he get here in the first place? Shouldn't he be with the rest of his buddies? She honestly never thought one of them would ever fall so low as to hide in a sewer of all places. Unless there was no other option. He must've gotten lost or something.. She thinks, almost snickering at how similar to hers this situation was.

To make no mistake, she didn't want to approach the angel, especially after what she'd seen during the apocalypse - most of them didn't give two shits about what happen to her race - and so Nicola decided, even if slightly disappointed that it wasn't another human survivor or someone looking for her like she previously assumed, to go away and leave him be with his kitten. The angels the apocalypse has shown to her were hardly the kind and thoroughly good creatures the image of she grew up with.. But then, nature decided to play a cruel prank on her and a horrifyingly loud sound of her stomach rumbling was carried over the immediate vicinity.

Nicola cursed inwardly at her stupid stomach - really, she would've eaten that sandwich but the smell of the server was very unappetizing - when the angel quickly looked up before gently placing the cat down on a piece of folded cloth and snapping his fingers to produce a small wisp of normal, white light. Now, his face wasn't obscured by the shadow of his hood. It was just like a face of a human, especially with all the grime smeared over it, just more… how to describe it? Features were more apparent, simultaneously sharp and smooth. Like those of a sculpture. Almost overly perfect. However, he looked ill, emaciated with his cheeks collapsed like this and sunken eyes, seemingly too large for his head. His eyes… brilliant white with faint silvery pupils, glowing like two wisps, opened wide in an absolutely blank, emotionless stare, not unlike that of a man in feverish delirium. How long had he been down here?

"Who.. who's there..?"

His lips barely moved as he spoke, his wide eyes darted around in panic as he searched for intruders. Not that she could blame him. Her stomach sounded like a starving demon and as far as she's concerned, his kind isn't really fond of those.. The angel looked a little like a terrified, wounded animal that had been cornered by predators with no apparent way out. It was… sad somehow. Since she'd already been heard, Nicola carefully stepped out of her hiding spot. The reaction she got however, was far different from what she's been expecting. The angel gasped, his wings shot up like two enormous flags as he lifted his hands. Green magic crackled along his slender fingers with most of the nails broken and bloodied as she froze where she stood.

"G- get away! Back off, foul creature!"

He stuttered but didn't attack just yet. Swallowing a lump of fear Nicola forced herself to very, very slowly and carefully take a few steps closer to enter the illuminated area around the scared angel to make him realise this is a misunderstanding and she means no harm. She even left her gun on the floor not to make him feel threatened and kept her hands up, palms forward where he could see them. He squinted but this hollow look in his eyes remained. Disturbing… Even more so when he started to mutter nervously to himself, rubbing his eyebrows with his thumb.

"No… not a demon, nor an angel, a human perhaps…? Yes, yes… has to be… But that's not possible.. They're… they're all gone. Dead, killed, stone dead… Who is this and what do you want? Your tricks won't work on me.."

"I- I'm not trying to trick you, I swear! I am a human. I'm Nicola.."

She assures the angel, hoping that giving him her name will make him feel a little less threatened. A quiet sigh of relief slipped past Nicola's lips when the magic in his hands faded as he curiously - a little like a small, inquisitive puppy - tilted his head to the left.

"Nic… ola…"

He breathed, mulling over her name, testing it on his tongue but his wings still remained aggressively flared above his head. The kitten meowed again, too weak to stand up from the bedding the angel made for it. He seemed to calm down a bit as he glanced down at it and with a flick of his finger made the animal lazily blink before it curled into a ball and immediately fell asleep. The wound on its back wasn't so large anymore and it wasn't bleeding so the black fluff with white feet and collar wasn't in any immediate danger. Angel's attention shifted back to her. But Nicola was the first one to speak.

"Who are you? How'd you get down here?

"Don't know… Human… a human. How did you get in my study? You really shouldn't be here. What is it you want from me? I'm working on improving my shards…"

"I-... Wait, your what ?"

Nicola's face scrunched up in confusion. Get in where? Working on improving his what??

"No, this isn't right… they need more energy…"

At this point she had absolutely no idea what the angel was rambling on about but she could clearly see he was completely out of his mind. Frankly speaking, she wasn't actually sure if he knows what he's babbling either.. There was only one thing that came to her mind when he spoke of shards and so she dug into her pocket, trying to find the one she'd been carrying with her just in case as he clutched at his head, tangling his fingers into his hair under his hood…

"It worked… I did it, I can… but it hurts… Creator, how it hurts… Cold.. so cold…"

His voice was starting to break as his unsteady breathing turned into something akin to sobbing but no tears were shed and he started to rock back and forth, still muttering something unintelligible. Something in Nicola's gut squirmed - or maybe it was the hunger again - as she looked at the scrawny angel mercifully. Whatever happened to him, it must've been horrible. It takes a very traumatic experience to bring a human to such a state but an angel is a different story. Seeing anyone like this saddened her. Finally, her fingers found what they were searching for and she extracted a small healing shard from her vest.

"You mean like…"

At the gentle, green glow the shard was emitting, the angel looked up astonished and let his mouth fall open. He stopped shaking and grasping his head.

"Yes… yes, my shard. I need… My blade. Where's my blade? Who…? My name? My name… I remember, I swear."

This talk of a blade was mildly unsettling to say the least but something in her chest twisted with pity and all fear left her. A little more bravely, Nicola approached the murmuring angel who attempted to scratch something out on the floor beside his knee but only successfully broke one of his nails again and hissed quietly. What happened to you, you poor thing? When she crouched next to him, he stared at her as though he'd seen a ghost when she realised he isn't looking into her eyes anymore. But at her forehead.

"You're… injured…"

He stated as matter of factly. Oh. Right. That was true. It barely hurt anymore though… and wasn't even bleeding. She's certainly had much worse. It will heal on its own in no time.

"Let me just-"

Suddenly he leaned forward to grab at her, making her heart leap up to her throat as she cried out in fear and jumped away from him. Instinctively, Nicola booked it for the tunnel she came from when she heard a heavy thud and a pained groan behind her.. It was her good hearted nature what ultimately made her stop in her tracks and look over her shoulder. To see the angel on the floor, weakly propping himself on his elbows and breathing heavily. He was very weakened. It's unclear how long he'd been down here but it certainly has taken its toll. Nicola looked out into the dark tunnel. Whatever awaited her in this darkness and out in the city surely isn't nicer than this poor sod behind her. She wasn't even sure if he actually meant to hurt her or not. It was a reflex. Then she turned to look back at the angel shivering on the wet floor.. Her throat tightened. God, she couldn't just leave it like this, could she?

"H- hey… are- are you okay?"

Nicola approaches the angel warily and squats before him as he lifts his head to look at her. And in his eyes she sees pain. Horrible, unimaginable pain, somewhere deep within, that made his crusted lips tremble. Such a sight would be enough to break even the coldest hearts. And definitely more than enough to break hers. He eyes her hands when she hesitantly takes him by the arm - careful when she notices a rag stained with fresh blood above his left elbow - and tries to pull him up to his feet or at least to a sitting position but he doesn't recoil. He simply kept staring at her hands in bewilderment. To her surprise, he was much lighter than he looked, probably because of how thin he was, and she managed to do what she intended but she could see that his legs won't uphold his weight as meager as it is. The angel glanced at the cut on her head and once again, albeit far more cautiously, reached out towards it.

"I can… I can heal it. Just hold still.. It will take a second.."

And in spite of herself, Nicola gives him a chance this time. He extended two fingers and as their tips started to glow with green, he gently tapped against her damaged skin. It felt… odd. It wasn't painful but still strange. The edges of the wound grew numb and prickly as the patch of comforting warmth fell over her forehead. And what was even odder, the angel smiled slightly, whispering

"There… It is done.. I.. remember. Was it…? It was, wasn't it… Raphael?"

"Wh- what? What are you talking about, who's Raphael?"

Nicola asks, probing the new, thin scar that was now formed in place of the cut. He really did heal her. Curious. And it did take a second.. For a moment, his face scrunched up in confusion but only for this second before he brightened and some of the strange mist fell from his white eyes as he brought both of his hands up and repeatedly poked his chest with all of his fingers.

"Me.. Raphael is… it's me! And you…"

He extended one finger and aimed it at her head.

"You are Nicola. "

"Y- yeah. Nice to meet you, I guess…"

She hesitantly replies as the circumstances of this meeting weren't exactly "nice". In a dark, damp sewer filled with stench and corpses with a possible monster lurking nearby? Far from nice if someone would ask her.

"What.. huh. What is this place?"

Raphael unexpectedly asked, looking around with his large, white eyes, blinking in confusion. Nicola pulls a face, unsure how to tackle the odd angel.

"You… don't know? You've been living here."

"Have I? Hmmm.. Strange…"

He murmured thoughtfully, scratching at his white goatee also painted with blood that surely spilled from the cut on his lower lip. Then his face shifted into concern as he tried to pull himself up with a strained grunt, clutching at an old, but not healed yet, gash over his ribs.

"I… I have to get back.. they need me in the White City…"

As she was expecting, he collapsed back onto the floor with a tired sigh not even a second later. Where and what was the "White City" he spoke of, she had no idea. What she did know however, was that in his condition Raphael isn't going anywhere. Even if he managed to get up, she could bet her right hand that he would make ten steps at most before collapsing again. Nicola winces and tilts her head to the side.

"Pal, I don't think you're in shape for walking or flying right now.."

"No, I suppose not… they cannot see me like this. I cannot return.."

At this point she wasn't surprised that Raphael kept muttering to himself about things her human brain couldn't hope to comprehend. Nicola got long used to this however. Ever since the armageddon there were very few things she could understand. It wasn't a normal day if something new and weird didn't happen to her or one of her remaining friends. Any hostility the angel showed before has faded now, his wings folded back around him as he leaned over the sleeping kitten to continue treating it. The gentleness he did it with, the uncertain smile on his face were making Nicola's heart melt. Raphael didn't seem like his friends indeed. He was different somehow. Kinder, softer. Less aggressive. More fitting the image of a stereotypical angel. But also definitely not quite… right. Up in the head.

Oh, well. Who is totally normal these days, honestly?

She wants to chuckle to herself when something gives her a pause. A horrifyingly familiar sound coming from the tunnel behind her. Panting, scraping and growling. Inevitably getting closer and closer. Her heart plummets to her heels. This sound… she would recognise it everywhere. The sound that haunted her dreams ever since the demon tore her twin brother, Nicholas, to shreds. This demon.. a Goreclaw, as Ulthane called it. Whipping around, she just managed to spot the quadrupedal monster - the size of your average Caucasian Shepherd (which was still awfully large for its kind), with long, lashing tail and sharp fangs constantly bared in a disturbing grin - appear in the entrance, cutting off the only escape route.

It must've heard Nicola's startled scream and followed it all the way here, hoping for an easy prey. Her breath caught in her throat as she stands paralyzed by the blood-hungry glare of multiple red eyes. This ugly mug, covered in blood of her sibling was still fresh in her mind, keeping her absolutely petrified. Unable to do anything, she kicks herself for leaving her shotgun behind. Now it was resting between the clawed paws of the demon who screeched in excitement as it prepared to pounce at her. Though honestly, with how rigid her body turned, she doubts she'd be able to aim, not to mention pulling the trigger.

This is it. She thinks, feeling blood leave her face. I'm gonna die. After all she's been through.. Killed by a single Goreclaw, ripped apart in a stinking sewer like an ungrateful little shite. Ulthane did so much to rescue her from the claws of that Fallen and now all his efforts are going to go to waste.. Crying out in dismay, she shields herself from the oncoming attack with her arms and shuts her eyes.

Something shifted behind her as the demon jumped at her and… nothing happened. Opening her eyes, horrified and shocked, Nicola almost gags when she sees the Goreclaw standing before her and just… gawking with its jaw slack as though it got hit on the head with something heavy. Faint golden light running around its body like tiny veins didn't escape her attention. That's when she noticed that the demon was trying to move, straining with its own stiff muscles and growling. But couldn't. It was completely paralyzed. A quiet, barely audible thrumming filled the air around Nicola and she began to feel something strange. Something she could only describe as magic. The arcane static began to nip and the bite at her skin like miniscule locusts when a green haze enveloped the Goreclaw before her. The same light fell onto her back, laying her quivering shadow out at her feet. A realisation hit her.

Raphael. He's still there.

After the apocalypse, Nicola had no delusions that angels, even the kindest ones, are ever defenseless. Before she could turn to face the angel, her would-be killer suddenly let out a soul-rending shriek that yet again almost made her drop dead or simply puke out of pure fear. Freed from the paralysis, it fell to the floor, writhing, clawing at its own chest and screeching the most ungodly noise Nicola had ever heard. What's happening?! Absolutely petrified, she watched as the demon's skin seemed to dry and wrinkle as its eyes were nearly popping out of its skull. Life - and color - was frighteningly quickly seeping out of the demon as it squirmed in agony, wailing, unable to fight the power that got a hold of it.

All this looked like taken straight out of a horror movie. And Nicola, on the contrary to Nicholas, was never a fan of those… It all took merely a few seconds of unimaginable torment before the unfortunate Goreclaw wheezed and eventually fell still with its jaws opened and tongue lolled out, wide eyes dull and unblinking, and didn't move ever again. Dead. The memory of all those corpses she has found passed through her head. The Goreclaw looked just like them… Afraid to move a muscle, she stared at the light that moved away from the dead demon, following its movement to the sight that made her back up aghast.

Raphael. The same seemingly gentle angel who healed a small, hurt animal - who healed her - was suspended in midair, tattered robes and disheveled hair billowing, with his wings flared and bristled. This soft smile was replaced by an absolute lack of any expression whatsoever as his wide eyes burned with the whitest white of unbridled anger she'd ever seen. Green streaks of magic - the same green she found so soothing before, now ominous and frightening - bathing the surroundings in brightness, were swirling around his arms, hands with fingers curled into vicious claws. For this moment he looked much stronger, a little younger… and far more dangerous than he seemed before.

"As long as I live.. I shall not stand suffering !"

Raphael bellowed at the corpse at her feet even though it was long dead and already turning cold, caring very little about how horrified she was. He didn't even seem to care how much suffering the demon had experienced before it blessedly lost its hold on life. Not that Nicola thought it didn't deserve that but still it was… pretty gruesome.. Raphael's wounded and weakened body absorbed the life-force drained from the demon and only then did he slowly descend onto the floor and landed on his feet, breathing out with relief. The magic gradually dissipated along with the sharp prickling sensation until only the tiny golden wisp hovering next to Raphael's head remained. His wings fell into their place against his back, this furious light faded out of his bright eyes before he turned to Nicola to shoot her a disarming, awkward smile as though nothing had happened at all. This tiny smile was hardly comforting.. Quite the opposite in fact. It chilled her to the bone like the coldest winter wind.

Oh fuck.

Swallowing thickly, Nicola looked up at Raphael, now standing on his own legs, clearly revitalized by the stolen energy, and felt a little fearful tear roll down her face. Then she shifted her gaze to the demon. Then back to Raphael, who seemed so small and weak before but stood at least two, maybe three feet taller than Nicola - her head reached the bottom of his sternum. I was wrong. She realises with a pang of panic, feeling a little sick in the stomach at the mere thought that this kind healer was as capable of killing her where she stood as any demon up above her head. All he had to do was flick his wrist and look at her and she wouldn't have been able to do a thing to defend herself. It suddenly made sense. There was no sewer monster down here. No beast that would threaten her. No foul creature that could suck the blood from her body and leave ber as a mummified corpse. All this death, all these bodies… The horrifying monster Nicola was expecting to find...

It was him.

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

So yeah. That was the chapter I. I'll try to make more but I don't promise anything XD

The moral of this story? Don't piss off/spook angel sorcerers. Especially the crazy ones.

Also, the art at the end was once again inspired by @coloredgravity 's rendition of Raphael (I drew this mostly out of memory 😂). In addition I gave him a symbol of virtue from Darkest Dungeon over his head. He's mad, true. But he still tries to hold it together :3

#darksiders #darksiders 2 #darksiders 3 #my fic #fan fiction #darksiders oc #nicola #darksiders raphael #raphael #my art #fan art #I suck at summarizing XD #Cost of Kindness #CoK

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kimjongdaely · 4 years

Text

The Art of Sin [Chapter 8 - END] [M]

Gang!AU, Racer!AU, Tattoo Artist!AU

Pairing: Chen x Reader

Warnings: Language, violence, sexual situations, vandalism

Summary: He’s an artist. He does it all for the ‘art.’ Tattooing. Racing. Sex. All because he thinks they’re beautiful. There’s no one here that doesn’t know his name, because it’s everywhere. On every graffiti-filled wall, every tattooed skin, every cheer of the crowd. His name is there somewhere, because it’s all his—this world. And when he lays his eyes on you—well, he’s never seen anything more beautiful. And he’s going to make you his masterpiece.

Chapter 1│Chapter 2│Chapter 3 [M]│Chapter 4 [M]│Chapter 5 [M]│ Chapter 6│Chapter 7│Chapter 8

You can tell you’re in a hospital.

The smell of antiseptic is strong, stinging your nose. The bed is hard and certainly not your own. You can hear the sound of birds.

There seems to be bandages around your head, so you can’t see.

Your body hurts all over. For a moment you can’t remember what had happened and how you ended up here.

“You awake?”

You recognize this voice. You tilt your head to the left, where he must be standing. “Byun?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” He answers, his voice less cheerful than you remember. He sounds tired, serious, and a little nervous. “I’ll, uh, get the doctor.”

“Wait.” You call, and you hear his footsteps stop. “Where’s Chen? Is he okay?”

“Yeah, he’s a few rooms down. No need to worry, he just broke a few bones and had a few scratches. He’ll be up and running in no time.”

You let out a sigh of relief, relaxing back into the pillow.

“How long have I been out?”

Silence.

“Two weeks.” He says. “I’ll go get the doctor.”

You nod, listening to him walk away. You want to see Chen. You can’t fully relax until you do.

Several moments later you hear him come back with another set of footprints, most likely the doctor. He asks you how you feel, if there’s anywhere that hurts. You tell him you’re fine, a little sore but nothing bad.

“You don’t have any major injuries other than the impact to your head.” He says after a quick checkup. “It’ll take a little longer to heal and, well—”

Your ears ring.

You’re not sure you’re hearing it properly.

You feel your heart stop, your breath hitch, time itself skidding to a halt.

His next words shatter your world.

It’s been about a month. You’re still not entirely convinced what the doctor told you was true. There’s just no way.

The boys from the garage had been coming in often to check up on you. You know they must be busy with their own work. You’ve met every single member other than Chen.

You made it very clear you didn’t want him to see you.

“He knows already.” Suho told you, sitting down next to you on the bed and patting your hand like a brother. “It’s okay to let him in.”

“The wound hasn’t healed yet.” You answered, forcing yourself to sound more casual and cheerful than you feel. “I don’t want him to feel bad. I’ll see him once I’m fully healed.”

Suho understands. Chanyeol and Baekhyun cracks jokes. The others like to come chat with you about their experiences, nothing too detailed, just fun little stories they have.

Suho comes in one day and tells you that Chen had been discharged, and wants to see you. You shake your head and tell him to wait a little longer.

You stumble into the bathroom one night and clutch at the sink, taking deep breaths. You count to calm yourself, and then you reach for the bandages around your head. You take them off, wanting to verify it. Wanting to know.

You touch your face, tracing the line from your forehead down over your eye, stopping right above your cheek. You feel the bump and dip in the skin from the scar.

You blink, and you know.

You can never see again.

You begin to sob, sinking onto the floor as reality hits you hard. You can never see again. You are maimed for life and the scars are there to prove it. You aren’t perfect anymore, aren’t pretty. Chen would definitely be disgusted. He would break up with you in a heart beat and throw you away just like he did with his car.

You’re so scared of that. You don’t want him to see, even if he already knows.

You don’t want him to leave you.

After a while—4 months in the hospital—you’re free to go. Doctors have told you to come back regularly for a checkup for at least a few more months before you’re completely in the green. Head injuries are no joke, they said.

You know that too well.

Slinging your duffel bag over your shoulder—filled with clothes and hygienic products, which you got your friends to bring over the first month of your hospitalization—and take a deep breath, excited to be leaving the hospital after so long.

You know your escort will be here any moment. It’s difficult for you to maneuver around on your own now. You’re still not used to it.

A knock comes.

“Come in.”

The slight creak as it opens. Footsteps. You’re surprised by them, recognizing them immediately. You thought he wouldn’t be here, thought he wouldn’t want to see you again now that you look like this.

Your breath hitches when he stands in front of you, so close you can feel his heat, smell is familiar scent. Tears pool in your eyes as the emotions well up inside you, threatening to burst. You missed him. You missed him so much and yet—

You lower your head so he cannot see.

“Ready to go?” His voice comes out smooth and tugs at your heart. There’s an edge to it that you ignore.

You do your best to smile for him. “Yep.”

“I’ll carry the bag.” He takes it without waiting for an answer. And then he grabs your hand, carefully intertwining your arm with his. This isn’t what you were expecting at all and you’re scared. Nervous. Overjoyed.

He leads you out, through the hallways, down the elevator. You feel the wind and sun against your skin and you breath in the air, feeling rejuvenated and free.

“Hey,” Chen says, voice dropping low and husky and filled with emotion, his hand coming to grip yours tightly, which was still wrapped around his other arm. “I missed you.”

“Me too.” You smile at him, and you hear his breath hitch and your smile fades away.

“Listen...I’m...I’m so sor—”

“Chen.” You say, smiling again. “Can I stay over tonight?”

He says yes, like you knew he would.

“Jongdae.” He says one day. Too many days have passed in a blur and you’re not sure how many times you’ve stayed over at his place, woken up next to him like it’s meant to be.

“What?”

“My name.” He pulls you closer by the waist, the bedsheets tangled around your intertwined legs. You feel his breath against your shoulder, his lips against your neck. “My real name is Jongdae. You should call me that from now on.”

Your heart nearly bursts. He’s telling you his real identity, this is a big step. The underlying meaning is too heavy to ignore. He wants to be with you—for real. Not just a fling, not something temporary and detached. Something permanent in his life. He wants you to stay. You get choked up and it takes you a while to respond.

“Jongdae.” You whisper, and it feels right.

He holds you tighter, a contented sigh escaping him. “That sounds nice. Say it again?”

“Jongdae.” You repeat, a giggle making it’s way out. “Stop that, you’re tickling me!”

He doesn’t stop, instead his hands begin to wander more, becoming bolder as they trail paths in your skin, filling your veins with fire and love.

You moan, arching against him and you feel him smile against your skin, turning you around so he can have better access to your body, covering yours with his.

And then he kisses you. Gently and then deeply, his tongue meeting yours and you sigh into it, having waited for this moment for eternity.

“Touch me.” He murmurs, grabbing your hand and placing it on his chest, over his heart. You feel it beat fast and hard, matching yours, his skin so hot to the touch.

You begin to explore his body, tracing the lines in his skin, feeling every dip and committing it to memory.

He kisses you again, more desperately, more fiercely. It’s hard to think when pleasure wracks you, the way he moves so lovingly in and out of you.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispers, over and over again, pressing kisses all over your face, paying special attention to your scars.

Every time he does so, you know he is soothing his own scars, deep inside his heart. Each thrust he makes feels of guilt and anguish. “I’m sorry,” he would occasionally whisper when he gets too lost into the moment. “Please don’t hate me.”

I love you, I love you.

Even now, you still wait for those words.

You wish with all your heart that things could go back to the way they were, to happier times. Wish he would stop sounding so guilty and remorseful and hurt every time he looked at you. Wish you could be with him forever.

Things never go the way you want.

Tears well up again, so much love and sorrow filling you as you pull him closer, gasping his name and wishing this moment would last forever.

You will remember this moment forever.

There’s nothing in the world that can describe how he felt when he woke up to find her gone.

Her side of the bed is cold to the touch. She’s been gone for a while.

There’s a surge of panic as he sits up. He calls for her, wondering if she’s in the bathroom, the living room, kitchen. No response. She’s not in the house.

He feels a wave of things all at once; so much fear and anger then it simmers into guilt, so much guilt. He has to find her. Where could she have gone in her state? What if something happened to her?

He searches for his phone in a frenzy, dialing number after number as he struggles to get on a pair of pants and a shirt, grabbing his keys as he heads towards his car, not caring how disheveled he looks at the moment.

No one has seen or heard from her in the last few hours.

No, please no.

He wracks his brain for places she could go. He went to her house to find it empty. Even her workplace, only to find she’s taken some time off.

He hasn’t heard about this at all. She hasn’t said anything to him.

Nothing at all.

He grips the steering wheel so hard it could snap. He drives around his neighborhood, round and round, hoping she just took a stroll and perhaps got lost. It’s unlikely; why would she go out without telling him?

He went to the garage hoping she had gone to hang out. Still no one has seen her.

He bangs his head against the steering wheel, over and over until he can’t feel the pain anymore.

Why?

Why did she leave? How could she do this to him?

But then how could he make her stay, after what he had done to her? She would never be able to see again all because of his stupid races, his stupid life.

A little less lucky and she would have died.

He screams and curses, dialing her number over and over and hearing it disconnect each time. He leaves her messages, begging her to come back, asking where she was, asking why she did it.

He was about to say I love you a few times but stops every time. He didn’t want to tell her that like this. He wanted to say it to her face, to kiss her and make love to her and have her say it back.

He knows she loves him. She would’ve definitely be happy to hear those words.

So why didn’t he say them earlier?

Night falls and she still isn’t back. His members have called a few times to ask about her, and then asked if he was okay.

No. He was anything but fine. He was a mess and surely going insane but it’s only been a day and deep down he had a nagging feeling that he would have to live like this for much, much longer.

Nearing midnight he finally gets a message back. A voice message and he listens so eagerly to her lovely voice but her words shatter him.

“Hi Jongdae.” She starts, a little breathy and he loves listening to it. “Sorry I didn’t answer you earlier. I wanted some time alone and to think. I...I think it’s best for us to break up.”

No.

No no no no.

He plays that message back a few times to make sure he was hearing it right, and it hurt more every time he did.

“Don’t be upset, Jongdae.” How could he not? “I’ve just come to realize something. You don’t love me. What you feel for me is guilt. You feel guilty I got hurt because of you, and you want to be there for me. You want to compensate for what you did to me.”

No, you’re wrong. Please stop talking. Don’t do this to me.

“But listen, it wasn’t your fault. It was no one’s. I chose to be in that car, and I chose to be with you. I love you. I really do. But I don’t want to be your burden, I don’t want to tie you down for the rest of your life just because you feel like you made a mistake. You’re going to regret it someday, and so will I. I want you to be free like you always have. I want you to be happy, and I see now that it’s not with me. I’ll be okay. Went to stay with a friend for a bit, so don’t worry. I can take care of myself.”

No no no! This is all wrong. This isn’t true. It’s not because of guilt. It’s not, it’s not.

Isn’t it?

He throws his phone against the wall and hears it crack.

“—don’t let Chen know though...it’d be bad if—”

“Don’t let me know what?”

His members turn to him in surprise, not expecting him to be here. He hasn’t come to the garage for a month now after she left without a word. They tried to get him to at least eat properly, with D.O generously going to his house to cook every few days.

He was a mess the first few days. The boys haven’t ever seen him like that before. Chen was always such a confident, carefree guy who did as he pleased. Although it’s a good lesson for him to be wary of consequences; the price they had to pay this time was too big. It shattered poor Chen’s world, a haunting epiphany that came too late.

He wouldn’t talk for a while, or do anything really. He just curled up in a corner and stayed like that for God knows how long. Barely reacted to anything the members said or did.

He’d replay her messages over and over again just to hear her voice, no matter how painful her words were.

But now he stands in the garage after a month, looking shaggy and disheveled like he just got out of bed, but he’s here.

And no matter how relieved and happy his friends were that he got out of the house for once, he came at a bad time.

“Uh,” Byun started, eyes darting around towards the others as he scrambles to come up with something. “We, uh, might’ve scraped your car a bit but—”

“Suho.” Chen ignores Byun, knowing too well when he’s lying, and turns his attention on the leader who gulps. “What shouldn’t I know?”

There’s a long moment of silence as Suho wonders what to do, but then sighs upon deciding to tell him the truth. It won’t be a pretty sight though. “Jongdae, listen, the gang that you raced last time—” Chen’s fists clench tightly by his side, “—we received news that they’re back in town and—”

“They’re what?” Chen growls out, eyes blazing at the thought. That gang went AWOL after what happened, but now they have the audacity to come back? “Where are they, Myeon?”

“Jongdae—”

“Tell me where they are!” He roars, slamming a fist against the wall, not feeling the pain even as he bleeds. “I need to know, Myeon. I need to!”

“Calm down, Jongdae.” Suho says as soothingly as he can. Sehun and Chanyeol are already getting ready to hold him down if they have to. “I’ll deal with them, okay? I promise they’ll get what they deserve so just relax, alright?”

No! He wants to yell, to make a scene, but he bites his tongue and hangs his head. He’s not a bad fighter but he doesn’t have the confidence to win against his members, many of which are much better at combat than he is.

He’ll find out. He’ll hire a private investigator, or bribe people in other gangs for information if he has to. He’ll find them.

And they’ll pay.

The rushing of water drowns out hushed conversation. Prices are being negotiated, drugs being passed from person to person, pocketed in places hidden from the eye. They hide under the shadow of the bridge, in the middle of the night where patrols rarely wander by.

It wasn’t too hard to find them, and Jongdae knew just where to ask.

He walked up to them like he owned the place, filled with fury and confidence. He had them gathered together and he would pick them off one by one.

“What the—” One of them starts, startled by his appearance. They quickly become alarmed, and a few begin to recognize him.

Jongdae didn’t really bother with the faces. He didn’t really care. He just wanted them to hurt like he was. Like they did to her.

He broke into a sprint right into their group, catching them off-guard. He swung a fucking metal bat towards whoever was nearest to him, feeling the vibrations go all the way up his arm and the sickening clang ring in his ear, but he didn’t care.

He swung and swung and swung, hearing cries and curses. He felt pain when someone snuck up behind him and kicked him in the back. Another punched his face. He didn’t bat an eye and kicked back, aiming the bat towards their head.

He didn’t care.

Jongdae doesn’t know how long it went on for. He was outnumbered, and probably outmatched but like hell he’ll give up, and even if he only got to half of them, that was enough.

People pulled and clawed at him, ganging up on him and he bit back like a feral lion, having lost all sense of sanity or rationality. He just wanted to hurt them. He didn’t know how much damage he wanted to give them, but a small corner in his mind worried he wouldn’t stop with just a few bad bruises and broken bones. No, there was a possibility he would kill someone tonight, and he found that he really, really didn’t care.

Maybe something was wrong with him. Maybe he had broken down the moment she left and he didn’t know what was what anymore. Couldn’t differentiate right from wrong.

Just the image of her in that car.

Bleeding.

Unconscious.

The sight of her on the hospital bed.

The bandages around her head.

The scars.

He snarled, baring his teeth like an animal and lunged at whoever he could, gripping the bat tightly even as people tried to steal it from him. They would pay, he kept thinking, they would pay.

And then the sirens came blaring.

Someone cursed and yelled, “The cops are coming! Scatter!”

Jongdae watched as they ran away, some too injured to get away by themselves and needed to be carried by two or three. He felt a little proud.

Then his legs gave way and he started to feel the pain. His head felt wet and so did several places on his body but he couldn’t think properly. He just slumped there and listened as the sirens came closer.

“Jongdae!”

He gasped, regaining a piece of his sanity and his head spun towards her voice. It wasn’t a police car that came, but rather a car he recognized from the garage. The sound of sirens are cut off and he realized they faked it.

She was at the door of the car, stumbling out and nearly falling. There were tears streaming down her face as she desperately called for him, arms held out as she tries to feel her surroundings, searching for him.

She couldn’t see him. Couldn’t find him.

That hit him too hard.

He pushed himself up, moving towards her, quickening his pace, wincing at the cuts and bruises littered across his body. He wanted to get to her, to hold her hand so she wouldn’t have to cry anymore, wouldn’t have to fear. He wanted her to find him.

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards him, wrapping her tightly in a hug. He missed her so much, so, so much. He whispered her name over and over again, he whispered “I love you” and “please don’t go” and “I’m sorry.”

There’s a part of him that hopes she would see his pitiful state and he could guilt-trip her into staying with him. He would be okay with that, as long as she stayed with him. As long as she doesn’t fly away ever again, doesn’t leave his line of sight.

There’s a part of him that wonders if what he felt was elation when he found out she couldn’t see, so she would always have to depend on him. So she could never go off too far from him.

He is truly a twisted jerk.

“Jongdae, what the fuck!” Chanyeol bellows, storming up towards him, the others following close behind. His eyes are flaming, livid. “You trying to die? You trying to fucking kill someone?”

She’s still crying hysterically, clutching his shirt, hands trembling. Jongdae is blank, unable to answer or react to his friend’s rage.

Chanyeol seethes, pushing a hand through his hair and it feels like he might punch him until Suho steps in, pushing Chanyeol out of the way. Suho does not look pleased.

“Get in the car.” He says. “We’ll get you fixed up. Do you know how worried you made us? How worried she was?”

Jongdae was almost delusional at this point. He felt no remorse, just overbearing joy at the thought that she came. She came to him when he was in trouble. She was worried. She still loved him, cared for him. He had a chance, right? He could have her back?

The boys had to practically carry him into the car. When they tried to move her to the back so they could get him immediate medical attention, he would throw a huge fit and they had no choice but to let them sit close together. Jongdae simply refused to let her go.

Honestly it was starting to get very concerning. Like he had just lost his mind. Suho is wondering if he actually did.

She was still crying softly, sniffling and hiccuping and gripping Jongdae’s hand tightly, to reassure himself or her, no one knows. It seemed to calm Jongdae a bit so at least something was working.

After Jongdae was bandaged up, they sent him home and asked if she could stay with him. She agreed, of course, but the boys were worried. Jongdae seems so out of it and she’s blind; will they be alright? Suho repeated several times for her to call them if anything goes wrong.

Eventually, they stopped fussing and left, though no one felt comfortable about what happened.

You help Jongdae to his bed, sighing out of exhaustion. It was a good thing Byun called you immediately when they found out what Jongdae was doing. You’d hate to think of what would’ve happened if you weren’t there to calm him.

You’ve never experienced Jongdae like this, doubt even his friends have. He just seems so out of it, so different. Perhaps he was drunk, or taking drugs? It’s not impossible.

It’s been a month since you’ve met him, and you’re sad this is how your first meeting goes, though you’re also just glad to meet him. You missed him so much in your time away. You thought he would be happy. Were you wrong?

You hear him shift, mumbling.

“What?” You ask, leaning in closer to hear. “Do you need something?”

He calls your name. Over and over again. He sounds like he’s in a daze and you’re not sure if he actually knows you’re there.

“Jongdae,” you search for his hand, giving it a squeeze. “I’m here. I’m here, don’t worry.”

“Please,” he whimpers, voice cracking and he squeezes back. That’s good, perhaps he’s regaining his senses. “Please don’t leave again. Please. I-I love you. I really do. It’s not guilt, I swear. I loved you way before the accident. I just—I’m not—”

“Shh, shh.” You hush him, trying your best to calm him down. He seems to be crying now, body curling against you. “Let’s talk in the morning, okay? Go to sleep.”

“No.” He whispers, voice trembling. “You’ll leave. I’ll wake up and you’ll be gone.”

“I won’t.” You feel your heart crack, hearing the sheer devastation in his tone. It seems like you really screwed up. You shouldn’t have left, should’ve talked to him properly instead. You lie down, curling yourself into him and pulling him in for a kiss. It seems his lip had been split and you can still taste some blood even after the boys cleaned it. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? I’ll be here in the morning. I’ll be the first thing you see.”

“Really?” His voice is so heartbreakingly small and uncertain.

“Yes.” You breathe out. “Promise.”

You pull him close, cradling his head against your chest, fingers combing through his hair. His sobs quiet down and soon you hear his breath even out.

Jongdae winces when he opens his eyes. He can hardly remember what happened, just flashes of movement and colors to remind him. He tries to move, but find that it really hurt, and something was keeping him down.

He turns his head and feels his heart swell.

This isn’t a dream, right? She’s really here, beside him. He begins to wonder if the last month was just a really long nightmare, that it never happened at all and she was always right beside him in her rightful place.

But then he sees the red around her eyes, the dried streaks down her face. He frowns. Why was she crying?

He tries moving again and this time it wakes her. He feels guilty for doing so, but couldn’t help but feel so happy to have her in his arms again.

“Jongdae?” She asks, hand moving to rest on his chest, to make sure he’s still there.

“Morning.” He says, voice raspy and surprising himself.

“Oh, thank goodness.” She breathes out, immediately wrapping him into a hug. He breathes her in, feeling his pulse quicken, eyes stinging. This feels so good. “You’re back, you’re okay.”

“I’m back?” He repeats, puzzled. “Did I go somewhere?"

“You—” She purses her lips into a tight line for a moment. “You went to fight that other gang, remember?”

Snippets are coming back and he winces. “Maybe?”

“I was so worried.” She continues. “You were so out of it I thought you’d lost your mind. I was afraid you would stay like that forever.”

“I’m sorry.” He says, eyes downcast. “I think I really did lose my mind last night. I just...lost my grip on reality and let my emotions take over.”

“I know.” She whispers, stroking his hair. “I know it was for me. But please, please promise me it won’t happen again. Please.”

Jongdae hesitates, but seeing the look in her face, seeing the dim look in her eyes, he swallows thickly and agrees.

“Are you leaving?” He asks, voice small. “Are we really done? Do you still love me?”

“I—”

“I love you.” He cuts you off, much to your surprise. His hold tightens on you, desperately, his tone on the verge of hysterics again. “Please, I love you. I love you so much more than even I knew. When you left, I—” He swallows, the past month slamming back into him and knocking the air from his lungs. He can’t go through that again. “Please don’t leave me. I’ll do anything. I love you. I love you so much.”

This wasn’t how either of them imagined the confession to go. Last night he said those words a lot, but he wasn’t himself. Now, she still isn’t too sure he’s completely fine.

If she were to reject him he might really break.

“I...I love you too.” She answers, tears once again stinging her eyes. “I always did. Way before the accident, maybe even the first time I saw you. I’ve loved you since and always will.”

Jongdae breathes out, like a huge weight had been lifted off his chest. Yes, yes! She said she loved him! He had a chance, he didn’t care about anything else. “Then please stay with me. Be my girlfriend. Don’t ever leave me again.”

“I...” She looks lost, and Jongdae began to feel nervous again. His mind was racing with all the conceivable ways he could convince her to be with him, trying to come up with all sorts of scenarios. “I would like that.”

He holds his breath, not sure if he heard correctly. “Really?”

“Yes.” She nods, smiling. The smile he missed. The smile that meant the world to him.

He pulls her to him again, joy bursting through his heart and filling his every cell with elation. They can start over. He can be good to her this time. He can do it right. He won’t ever make her feel like he doesn’t love her. He’ll tell her every waking moment until she’s sick of him and he’ll never let her go.

Never again.

There’s something that feels so good about being in an official relationship. Jongdae never really bothered with it. He’d have flings and short-term girlfriends and sleep around but this...she was different.

She was everything he wanted and he probably knew the second she asked him who he really was at her doorway.

It feels good to have her by his side all the time, to let the whole world know she was his and he was hers. Other gangs would occasionally threaten to hurt her if deals went south, but he was confident he could protect her and his members were no joke.

She had gotten used to her condition and was really good at using a walking stick. She could differentiate footsteps, no matter how sneaky they were trying to be. She liked being in his apartment and wearing his shirts because everything smelled like him and it made her feel safe.

He just...he loves her. More and more every passing moment and sometimes he would think back to the the accident and the month where she left and he would feel his heart prick.

But then he’d hold her close and everything would be fine.

He liked kissing her.

He’d kiss her every chance he’d get, no matter how short or long it was. He wondered why he didn’t do it earlier, why he was so wary of attachment and commitment and admitting his feelings.

Wonder why it took her losing her sight and leaving for him to realize.

“I love you.” He’d whisper into her ear every night they fell asleep and every morning they woke. He loved hearing her say it back. Loved it when she wrapped her arms around his neck and swayed her hips and let him lead her around the house in a careless dance.

Jongdae had never been happier.

Never freer.

She was his butterfly and the masterpiece he was searching for.

Previous Chapter

The Art of Sin Mini Masterlist

EXO Customs Collab Masterlist

A/N: This was, uh, very long. Long enough to be split into two or even three chaps but I just really wanted to finish it. Hope it didn’t feel rushed. Turned out a little darker than I expected.

I hope you enjoyed the fic and please do check out the other fics from the collaboration! 😘

Tags: @ninibears-erigom @baekwell--tart @fairyyeols @suhoerections @kpop---scenarios @skjdln @yeoldontknow @kyungseokie @mint-yooxgi @loser-dot-com @writingstuffandmore @enchanting-exo @dear-fake-diary @weirdsofagirls @wongxiexie @lovebuginlove @noonaofjungkook @soondingieworks @joolsreadsfics @bluepsycopanda @sebootyforlife @yerimdaes @the-freefeather @xcharlottemikaelsonx @shxrl4747 @uminnies @mango-bear @beach-bitch-bitch-beach

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lindsmorr · 4 years

Text

@tyrantlavellan you'll take this self indulgent fluff and you will like it!!

😘😘😘

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Taavi woke up first. Mahanon was a warm comfort resting with his head on Taavi's chest and his body molded to his side.

Mahanon said he was in love with him.

Taavi could hardly believe it. Part of him wondered if it was another lie. A tantalizing lure to bring him back to Mahanon, to warm his bed and fight his battles.

What a pair they made. Taavi riddled with newfound insecurities and Mahanon practically paralyzed by self-loathing.

Taavi shifted carefully out from underneath Mahanon.

He chose to set up camp in this specific location of Lothering mostly because of the stream. It's calming waters were a peaceful distraction and even better it was warm from the sunshine of the summer season.

He dressed in just his pants and left the tent to head to the stream. It was a beautiful morning the sun was hot but not yet overbearing and enough of a breeze to keep the humidity at bay.

He stopped at the waters edge and slipped his pants off and tossed them to the side.

He waded into the stream until the water reached just above his hips. The water soothed aches in his body from the previous night. He could feel his face flushing, remembering the feeling of being inside Mahanon. He ducked his flaming face under the water.

He straightened back up and took a breath. He never felt quite at peace in bustling cities the way he did being out in nature. He could be happy out here. No destination, no expectations. Just the trees, the water, the warm earth beneath his feet.

He could be happy out here with Mahanon.

He could picture it. Wandering the forest together, exploring. Hunting for their meals, swimming in the waters. Just existing together.

Spending every night together.

It was a nice fantasy. But it could never be their reality.

"What a sight you make."

Taavi jumped and whirled toward the voice.

Mahanon laughed, "I don't manage to sneak up on you very often."

Taavi scowled.

"What were you thinking so intently about anyways?" Mahanon asked.

Taavi stared at Mahanon. His smile, his bedhead and clothes he clearly threw on in a hurry.

"You."

Mahanon started taking his clothes off, "Oh? Tell me more."

"I was thinking we could run away together and live in the forest."

Mahanon walked into the stream, "That sounds tempting."

"We could grow old and grey together. You could rub my feet every night and I'd tell you your still attractive when you've gone all wrinkly."

Mahanon reached Taavi in the stream, "You really know what a man wants to hear."

Mahanon smoothed his hands up Taavi's chest to rest on either side of his neck, "I want to hear more about the parts before we're old and grey."

Taavi held onto Mahanon's hips, "We could go anywhere, everywhere. I could have you every night and you could have me every morning. I would show you all my favourite places from when I was young. Where I first learned to use my bow."

"Taavi.."

Taavi kept going. "I'd show you how to make the tea my brother always made me when I couldn't sleep at night. And anywhere you wanted to take me, I would go. Everywhere, together."

Mahanon leaned his forehead onto Taavi's chest, "I don't deserve you." He whispered.

Taavi wrapped his arms around Mahanon, "I love you."

Mahanon leaned back, "I don't-"

Taavi kissed Mahanon before he could continue.

"I don't want to hear it anymore. I love you, and you're mine now. Whether you think you deserve it or not you great fucking idiot."

That surprised a laugh out of Mahanon, "Is that really how you talk to someone you love?"

"When that someone is you, yes."

Mahanon leaned up to kiss Taavi in return, "I want what you said. I want all of it."

Mahanon put his arms around Taavi's neck, "I know we can't, not really. But today, today let's pretend."

So they did.

They left the stream and returned to camp. Grabbing their weapons and some of the food Taavi has prepared in camp the day before and they left to wander the forest.

They walked side by side, playfully bumping into each other and tangling their fingers together.

They climbed trees like children. Taavi gloating obnoxiously when he beat Mahanon to the top.

They stopped to pick flowers. Taavi tucking one behind Mahanon's ear and declaring him absolutely adorable. Mahanon stalked away, Taavi's laughter following him.

They found another stream and skipped stones.

They stood silent and watched a mother Halla with her new baby.

They talked, and laughed and kissed like teenagers with their first loves.

Taavi wished it would last forever and he knew no matter what else happened to them he would never forget this day.

It was dark when they returned to Taavi's camp.

Taavi led Mahanon by hand into the tent. They fell into bed together as easily as they always did. Mahanon stretched on top of Taavi, feeling him on every inch of his skin. Taavi gripped Mahanon's face and held their foreheads together, "I never want this day to end." There were tears in his eyes.

Mahanon kissed him, "I love you Taavi."

Taavi exhaled, "I love you too."

The night passed in moans and whispered words full of affection. Mahanon astride Taavi's hips, trying to show him what he had difficulty saying with words.

Mahanon on his back with Taavi between his legs.

Mahanon on his stomach.

Taavi on his hands and knees.

Later, collapsed and exhausted they shared desperate kisses with the last of their energy.

Tomorrow would be back to business as usual.

But this one day would always be theirs.

#omg this was so soft #i want them to be happy #LET THEM LOVE EACH OTHER IN PEACE #mahanon lavellan #taavi lavellan #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #other peoples ocs

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crystalirises · 4 years

Text

Foxgloves

Whoops my hand slipped.

I am here today with another angst fic. So, this is a sort-of Ghostbur POV of my ‘Clouds’ and ‘Clouds V.2.’ fic. I do recommend reading those two before this one for actual context.

Anyway, hope you guys like this and just like the other fics, same trigger warnings apply.

As for Ao3 link, I won’t add it cause Tumblr deletes my posts if I add external links. (I don’t get it either)

TW: Poisoning and Major Character Death

Ghostbur paced along his desolate abode, traces of teardrops scarring the smooth stone floor. His mind was a haze of fog, his son’s word echoing neverendingly in his ears. Oh… his sweet boy… his little champion…

A book was clutched in his hands, the paper wrinkling beneath his harsh touch. His dead heart ached within his chest, a waterfall of blood pouring from the fatal wound that took him away from this wretched world. He shivered, colder than he usually was. The sewers were silent… lonely… it was driving him mad.

With a bitter cry, he threw the book into the roaring fireplace, collapsing upon the floor in a terrible anguish. His soot-covered fingers clawed at his hair, tugging at the strands until he felt some semblance of pain… but ghosts didn’t feel pain. His sobs tore through the room, unheard by any man or woman for night had settled upon New L’Manburg. If anyone were to awaken, they might just hear his haunting wails. His arms wrapped around himself, a pitiful try at self-comfort as the day’s memory repeated in his head.

He trailed after Tubbo, the young president inspecting the land they had begun to build upon. Ghostbur happily followed after him, adding his occasional suggestion each time Tubbo asked for his own input.

“Well, I think that’s all on the agenda for today.” Tubbo paused, reaching to scour through his inventory for a material Ghostbur could care less to remember. He watched as Tubbo froze in place, a startled look on his face as he brought out an enchanted netherite shovel. “Oh. Oh no. Fundy was looking for his stuff last night… I didn’t know I had them on me. Please excuse me, Ghostbur, I have to return these to him.”

His attention rose at the mention of Fundy. Fundy had been avoiding his presence ever since he came back… he didn’t understand why and he didn’t want to. The seed of an idea was planted in his mind, this was an opportunity to speak to Fundy! “Y-you know, I wouldn’t mind returning them for you.”

“Really? Thanks, Ghostbur!” Tubbo had dumped a variety of objects in Ghostbur’s arms, the strangely named tools making him chuckle as he tucked them into his inventory. He gave Tubbo a small farewall before heading off to find Fundy. This was perfect! This was his chance to be a good dad! To do good dad things! Then… Then maybe Fundy would look him in the eyes… wouldn’t run off in the opposite direction the moment he came into view… This would fix whatever grievance he had done when he was alive… right?

As he scoured through New L’Manburg for Fundy, he had stumbled upon Eret’s museum. Eret. Ghostbur shivered, a haunting memory of screams and explosions resonating in his head. He shook the thought away… and just like that, he’d forgotten what it was that had scared him so. He perused through the unfinished structure, remnants of a past he barely recognized displayed in all their beautiful glory.

Bad images came to mind and he quickly exited the area. He didn’t want to remember. He took another stroll through New L’Manburg, his eyes scanning for a tell-tale sign of Fundy’s whereabouts. As he stepped onto the wooden pathway, the trace of a fox’s tail caught his attention. He turned to see Fundy at the center of town, scrambling between the empty space as if in search for something… And Ghostbur had what Fundy was looking for! His heart soared. Oh, Fundy would be so happy to see him! “Fundy! Hi! Hi!”

A pair of gold-flecked brown eyes snapped towards him, irritation flashing in their gaze as Ghostbur floated towards Fundy. Ghostbur couldn’t help but worry, dark circles had wormed their way beneath Fundy’s eyes, as if he hadn’t been sleeping for a long time. Well… Ghostbur was sure if Fundy needed it, he could concoct a sleeping potion of sorts. But anyway… “Fundy! I have your stuff! Here, these are yours, right?”

“Y-yeah, actually. Thanks, Wil.” Fundy winced, taking his stuff from Ghostbur. His face reddened as an excited wheeze tore through his throat as Ghostbur handed him his schlong. “Oh… my bow is missing.”

Ghostbur looked at the bow in his inventory. “Uh, sorry. I don’t have it.”

He didn’t understand why he’d lied, but Fundy could make a new bow, couldn’t he? Ghostbur hardly had anything of Fundy’s that he could hold onto… surely an old bow wouldn’t be missed, right? Yeah.

“Thanks, Wil. I really… I really appreciate this.” Ghostbur held his breath as Fundy gave him a small smile, hesitant as it may be. Fundy smiled at him! He did something good, didn’t he? Fundy turned to leave but… but Ghostbur didn’t want him to leave. They just started talking again! He trailed after Fundy, the hint of a question dancing on his tongue. Fundy’s sharp glare turned to him. All previous gratitude gone. “What?”

“I did a… I did a good dad thing, didn’t I, Fundy?” He held his hands together, the heated scrutiny of Fundy’s gaze piercing through his ghostly form. Fundy’s shoulders shook in fury or in another emotion, Ghostbur couldn’t quite tell. Then Fundy looked away, a look of pity in his eyes as he spoke the next few words.

“I’m getting adopted, Wilbur.” The world turned deathly still, a tenseness in the air as Ghostbur’s felt the ground beneath his feet collapse. Fundy scurried a little bit away from him, clutching the sleeves of his jacket Ghostbur had made him that jacket as he looked everywhere but at him. “Eret came up to me yesterday with an offer. He’s offered to adopt me since you’re… We’re just waiting for Phil to sign.”

“Eret… We don’t like Eret… I-it’s in the song, Fundy.”

Fundy tries to explain, but Ghostbur couldn’t hear his words, static crackled in his ears as he turned and ran off. He couldn’t look at Fundy. He couldn’t bear it… He… He… He knows he had a talk with Phil after that, holding back the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. Then he wandered away from New L’Manburg, stumbling upon a familiar yet nightmarish lived-in ravine. He looks at the myriad of buttons on the walls, a conclusion forming in his mind. Fundy needed a dad… and Ghostbur wanted his son.

He floats up from the ground, he’d made up his mind.

He couldn’t let Eret take his son. He couldn’t let some traitor steal his son from him. He heads over to the materials he had gathered as soon as he had left that ravine. He had everything he needed. Niki had even helped him gather some of the berries, that was kind of her to do! He just had to put them all together.

His son would understand. He’d understand.

Ghostbur just wanted to protect his son.

‘This is for my son.’ He thinks, the foxglove held tightly in his hand. ‘He needs me. I’ll protect him.’

Ghostbur watched in the distance.

His son was pacing in front of Eret’s castle, his ears and tail frantic with nervous energy. The ghost hoped he wasn’t the cause for his son’s distress. He’d hate for his son to be suffering because of him.

The picnic basket weighed heavy in his hands, guilt gnawing at his undead insides as he recalled the sweet smile his son had when he heard the happy and joyful news. He could still turn around, run home and cook something of actual worth. Tears pricked at his eyes. How could he go through with this? Could he go through with this?

“With Wilbur, Tommy, Tubbo, fuck Eret…” The soft tune seemingly echoed within the breeze, though he knew himself to be alone. No. Ghostbur had to do this. Eret… Eret was a bad person. It’s in the song for fuck’s sake. He couldn’t let his son be adopted by some-some person who had done something against their nation. Eret was a traitor. They didn’t deserve to be anywhere near his son. He remembers trailing after Phil earlier on in the day, invisible to all gazes as he slipped within the castle right after his father.

He floated along the halls, surveying every detail that could cause harm upon his son. Why did this castle have towers? His son could fall from one dammit. He took note of the staircases, the crystalline chandeliers that hung from the ceiling, and the thick red carpet that suffocated the floor beneath their feet.

His son could trip on these carpets.

The staircases are too high, what if his son tripped on the way down?

What if a chandelier fell and crushed his son?

Why are there so many candelabras? His son could burn himself!

Wha― Were those actual flamingos?

Those paintings looked as if they were staring at him… what if they dragged his son into the paintings?!

Why does that bed have a roof? What if it falls on his son? What then, huh?!

The windows were easily opened… and with such a high drop…!

That servant looked at his son a little bit too suspiciously…

The castle was stifling hot, how could his son even breath in here?

Eret wasn’t even a real king.

Ghostbur was sure Phil would tell Eret ‘no’, that the castle was too dangerous. He stayed out of the room as the two of them signed the papers, choosing to watch over his son in the meantime.

He wished he could pull his son into his arms and run. Run far away from there, perhaps even far away from New L’Manburg. It’d be just the two of them, almost as if nothing had ever happened. They’d be family again… though without Sally… No. No. Sally would forever live within their hearts.

When he saw Phil and Eret leave the room, warm smiles upon their faces, his poor undead heart shattered into pieces. Phil patted Eret on the back, a congratulations leaving his tongue as he left the new parent-son duo with each other. His son had all but thrown himself into Eret’s open arms, a laugh bubbling from his throat as Eret spun him around. Ghostbur knows he should be happy, content that his son had found joy despite the despair-filled days of before. Yet… as he listens to Eret call his son as his… all he sees is red. Fundy was his son.

And if he can’t have Fundy, then no one…

No one can have Fundy.

Ghostbur snapped out from the vision, purpose filling his metaphorical veins as he floated towards his son. His son looked up at him, a curious look on his face as he looks at the picnic basket in Ghostbur’s hands. Ghostbur forced a smile on his face. He just needed to get his son away from here. Then they’ll be together again, this time without all that emotional baggage that Ghostbur didn’t want them to have.

They’d be happy. His son wouldn’t have to worry about being abandoned anymore… and Ghostbur wouldn��t have to watch as his son is torn away from his side by some traitor. He leads them toward a far-off river, the same river they used to visit before the war… before Sally died… His son looks bored, not that Ghostbur minded. After their picnic, why… his son wouldn’t look at him like that ever again. He could barely contain his excitement, topics filtering through his mind as he tries to start a conversation.

They reach the river bank…

His son snaps out of his own reverie at the sound of Ghostbur’s voice, much to his joy. He lets his son peek inside the basket, lets him take out the… unappetizing salad. Ghostbur watches as his son finally takes a bite, doesn’t miss the way his son blanches at the bitter taste… but his son continues on eating.

Ghostbur lets out a sigh of relief, he no longer had anything to fear. His son will be with him soon enough.

He lets his controlled fury direct the conversation, mentioning the traitor’s name to see how his son would react. He can’t say that he isn’t disappointed and regretful when his son’s own anger rises to defend his new… parent. He can’t say he doesn’t feel a twinge of pain when his son collapses from the poison.

His arms curl around his weeping son, reassuring words flowing from his mouth as he tries to console his dying son. He listens to his son’s shallow breathing, listens as they stutter out into silence. He presses his head against his son’s chest, feeling the rapid beat of his son’s heart as it begins to slow down. He holds his son tight against his form, guilt drowning the momentary triumph he had felt a few seconds ago.

“I’m sorry.”

There’s a song on the tip of his tongue, a familiar tune that he once sang as a sweet lullaby.

The clouds begin to fade into a kaleidoscope of color as the sun disappears in the distance.

His mind is foggy.

He doesn’t remember why he is near a river.

He doesn’t remember a single memory of the day.

He doesn’t understand why Fundy is lying so peacefully on the ground.

He doesn’t understand why there’s the remains of a rotting salad in the grass.

He continues to sing.

He doesn’t want to remember.

He doesn’t want to understand.

“D-dad?”