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rowansparrow · 3 years

Text

By Any Other Name: Chapter Seven

Summary: You and Rex have a conversation on the rooftop.

Chapter Rating: Teen

Warnings: Alcohol, some drunk-ness. Sad, so very sad.

Ships: Rex x Female!Reader, Fives x Female!Reader, Clone OC x Female!Reader, other ships tbd.

Tags: #ByAnyOtherName, #BAON

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: *insert that Always Sunny in Philadelphia Meme: “NEWSFLASH ASSHOLE, REX HAS BEEN IN LOVE WITH READER THE ENTIRE GODDAMN TIME* As always, bless @fat-zygerrian for being my beta reader!

Comment if you want to be tagged! Reblogs are SO appreciated!

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six

You were supposed to meet him that night.

You’d planned on going to 79’s instead of the rooftop as usual. Rose said the boys had missed you and wanted to play cards again. You’d gotten all dolled up and were about to head out when your comm beeped.

“Hey,” You grinned, shutting your apartment door behind you. “I was just heading out.”

“Yeah… about that,” Rose sounded embarrassed. “There’s been a change in plans. I won’t be able to make it. In fact, none of us will. We got – err – held up on base.”

“Really?” You asked, pausing as you started to head down to the main level of your building. “Okay… well can we meet after?”

“I’m not supposed to go off base but – yeah, yeah I’ll see what I can do. Keep your comm close.”

He hung up and you hesitated in the stairwell for a beat. Fuck it. Even if Rose couldn’t come along, you were still going to have a nice time tonight!

You had gotten more confident about going to 79’s ever since you and Rose had gotten close. You could recognize a few distinct faces now, just from people Rose had pointed out to you or introduced to you in passing. There was a notable absence of 501st blue, which at least confirmed Rose wasn’t just ditching you and had in fact gotten held up at the base with the rest of his battalion.

You approached the bar, settling in and glancing around to look for any familiar faces to keep you company while you waited for Rose. Further down the bar, you spotted Marshal Commander Cody and your breath hitched for just a moment. Rose had told you all about him – the most highly decorated clone soldier in the entire Republic Army. You would’ve been able to guess it even if Rose hadn’t told you about the curved scar on the side of his face. For the way Cody carried himself, even here, held an air of authority, of gravitas and poise.

He was talking to someone, the other person obscured by his own body. You ordered a drink, trying not to look as starstruck by the Commander as you felt.

“I’d try your luck with someone a little less ranked if I were you,” The bartender teased, catching you staring. “I’ve never once seen the Marshal Commander take up an offer to go home with somebody.”

“That’s – that isn’t my intention.” You blushed, taking the drink with a short huff. Still, you glanced at Cody again and watched him clap his hand on the shoulder of the man he’d been speaking with.

“Alright, see you around, Rex ‘ole boy. Stay out of trouble.”

Now that made you turn instantly. As Cody moved away, you were able to get a better look at the man he’d been talking to, and gods above, it was him. It was Captain Rex. Rose had told you so many stories about him that it felt strange finally seeing him in the flesh.

Rose had warned you about how much trouble you both could get in if anyone ever found out you were seeing each other. Your friendship was frowned upon enough as is, but now that it had become something more, Rose had given you the full dressing-down on what could happen to him if you were ever caught.

As such, you hadn’t ever met Rose’s superior officer, and since Rose wasn’t here…

You downed the rest of your drink quickly. There’s no reason the Captain would be suspicious of you. Besides, you wanted to meet him, get to know the man who was such a huge part of Rose’s life.

You wanted to meet his family.

“Hi.”

In truth, maybe your introduction could’ve been a little stronger. But as you sidled over to the Captain and leaned one hand on the bar, he gave you a small smile, nodding once.

“Ma’am.”

“Can I buy you a drink?”

Rex seemed surprised and looked you over carefully. He seemed to be waging a war with himself for a split second but eventually nodded.

“I don’t see why not.”

You grinned, settling into the seat beside him and waving the bartender over, tucking a hand under your chin. “What’s your name? I’m Y/N.”

“Rex.” He replied, offering his hand to shake. You repressed the urge to giggle. He was such a gentleman.

“What do you drink, Rex?”

He chuckled. “Whiskey.”

“Two of those, then.” You told the bartender. Rex’s eyebrow jumped up but you barely noticed.

“So. You must be a Captain, right? With all this fancy gear?” You said, motioning to his pauldron and kama.

“How d’you know I’m not just some ARC trooper who likes showing off?” Rex replied, smirking and leaning forward a bit.

“I’ve met an ARC trooper or two, and you don’t seem the type to boast.”

Rex chuckled again, taking his glass as the bartender returned. “You must get around, then.”

It wasn’t an insult and you didn’t take it as such. “Maybe I’m just good at making friends.”

Rex smiled and his eyes seemed to appraise you for a moment, taking all of you in, calculating. He took a swig.

“You here with any of those friends?” He asked.

“All alone, tonight.” You replied. “My friends got held up and you looked lonely. Thought I’d keep you company. It’s the least I can do for a soldier like you.”

Rex chuckled, low and sweet. “Most pretty girls don’t just find themselves in 79’s.” Rex drawled, setting his glass down again. “From what I can tell, they’re usually looking for trouble.”

He turned slightly to face you better. “Are you looking for trouble, mesh’la?”

Your heart skipped a beat. You knew that word, but didn’t know what it meant. Rose had called you that before.

“It looks like I already found it.” You replied.

Rex grinned. “Then I guess you better stay close so I can keep a proper eye on you.”

You chuckled, picking up your own drink and finally taking a sip. The whiskey burned your throat but it warmed you to the core. Rex looked impressed which was its own bonus.

“You never answered my question.” You said. “Are you a Captain?”

“I command the 501st attack battalion.” Rex said, a note of pride in his voice.

“Ah, then you must know Echo and Fives.” You prompted.

Rex seemed to age ten years at just the mention of their names. “I take it those are the ARC troopers you’ve met?” He asked. “My condolences.”

You giggled. “We played cards a few times. They’re nice but definitely a handful.”

“They’re all a handful.” Rex waved over the bartender to get another drink. “Every last one of them. That’s why none of them were allowed off base tonight.”

“Oh?” You grinned. “Do tell.”

Once he got going talking about his men, he couldn’t stop. Rex regaled you with the story of how earlier that afternoon he’d discovered his men were not only hiding a loth cat in the barracks, but it had given birth. They had managed to keep it a secret for weeks until the kittens started wreaking havoc. According to his men, Fives and Hardcase had been the ringleaders.

“That’s what they all say at least.” Rex amended. “’Course, Fives’ll take credit for just about anything. But Rose and Echo were suspiciously quiet the whole time. Kix was the only one with the good sense not to show his face in the barracks when I caught them. Still, I’ve got a feeling he encouraged the others to go along with it. Di’kuts, all of them.”

He shook his head but smiled as you laughed. “Anyway. They’re cleaning up the mess and finding natborns to rehome all the kits with. And when they finish with that, they’re supposed to take over the latrine shifts and canteen shifts for any other battalions.”

“Aw, seems a steep punishment for hiding loth cats.” You laughed.

“You didn’t see the state of the barracks.” Rex said, shaking his head slowly. “Apparently a bucket of paint got upended. They should all be scrubbing paw prints out of the durasteel right about now.”

You smiled fondly at Rex. Even as he retold the story, you could tell he was trying not to smile at the antics. It was clear he cared very deeply for his men, even if he had to be the tired parent of them all.

“Sounds like they wear you out.” You teased. “You deserve a break.”

“Are you offering me one?” Rex prompted.

You tilted your head to the side. “What do you mean?”

Rex smirked, and downed the rest of his drink. He took a deep breath, as though he was steeling himself to ask you something.

“Y/N!”

You recognized the voice and turned quickly as Rose hurried up to you. He had a small streak of blue paint across his cheek, but otherwise was beaming.

“Hey, you should’ve told me you’d be here. I went all the way to your apartment and had to backtrack -.”

He noticed the Captain a beat too late and you watched as all the color comically drained from his face. “Captain! Sir!” He snapped to attention. “I ah – I can explain…”

You glanced between Rose and Rex, your own heart pounding. Rose had all but given away the two of you were seeing each other. Rex looked at Rose before looking at you. He then turned to his glass, picking it up and making a big scene of looking it over.

“Sir…?” Rose asked nervously.

“Oh, I’m just inspecting my beverage.” Rex replied smoothly. “I must’ve been drugged you see, because surely I am not seeing my Lieutenant standing here, not when he is under strict orders to stay on base tonight.”

Rose cringed. “Yeah, sir, about that -.”

“It’s my fault.” You spoke up quickly, throwing together a lie. “Rose and I met yesterday, we’d been playing Sabacc with some of his brothers and he very kindly walked me home afterwards. I promised him drinks tonight to thank him and I wouldn’t take no for an answer.” You glanced to Rose. “He was just being a gentleman.”

Rex raised an eyebrow, glancing at Rose. “Funny.” He said. “Could’ve sworn I saw you in the weight room with Fives last night.”

“We… came here afterwards sir.” Rose lied, shifting a little closer to you, almost protective. “Ask him, he’ll say the same thing.”

“I’m sure he will.” Rex stood, picking his helmet up off the counter and knocked his knuckles lightly against the bar. “It was lovely to meet you, ma’am.” He said. “Rose?”

Your soldier stood at attention once again but Rex just put a hand on his shoulder.

“We have a briefing tomorrow morning. Oh-eight-hundred. Don’t be late.”

“Thank you, sir.” Rose was barely audible over the roar of the music in the bar. He looked like his knees would give out at any moment.

You could’ve sworn you saw Rex give Rose a little wink, but it must’ve been a trick of the light. He gave you one last nod before quietly departing.

Neither you nor Rose saw him glance back at you over his shoulder one last time before stepping out of the bar.

You’d lost track of how long you sat on the roof with Rex. Partially because he’d gone downstairs and returned with a bottle of your favorite whiskey and two glasses, pouring drinks for you both.

“For Rose,” Rex toasted, clinking your glasses together.

You smiled and for the first time that you could remember, Rose’s name didn’t make your heart ache. “For Rose.”

You both tossed the glasses back, that familiar burn searing your throat and chest before you shook yourself out, watching as Rex poured you both a second glass, entirely unfazed.

“He was very unsubtle about sneaking off base to go see you.” Rex told you, leaning back on one hand and closing his eyes as the breeze kissed his cheeks. “I’d give him a job and it would either be done in record time or it would’ve been passed off to somebody else. He once almost missed a debriefing because he’d spent the night with you. Skidded in right as I was about to start.” He chuckled. “I didn’t mind. He was happy. Gods know we soldiers deserve whatever happiness we can find.”

You hummed, smiling as you took another drink. “He talked about you all the time.” You said, leaning slightly against Rex’s side. “Idolized you, actually. He told me about the battles you’d been in together, how well you led your men.” You smiled to yourself, finishing your second drink and making your way towards a third. “He told me about that virus. Blue Shadow Virus, right?”

Rex hummed, getting himself another drink as well. “That was an ugly mission.”

“He said you were hovering a lot.” You teased. “Because he was always so sick when he was little. You were worried about him.”

“Brothers were dropping dead, left and right. Hells, even Commander Tano passed out at one point.” Rex recalled, shuddering to himself. “I thought we were all going to die.”

“He told me he wasn’t scared because you weren’t scared.” You smiled. “I guess you did a good job of hiding it.”

“He had way too many close calls.” Rex chuckled. “That virus almost took him out. We got rescued just in time. There was another time he was scouting with me and a few others on Saleucami -.”

“I remember that. You were shot.” You recalled and Rex chuckled.

“He really did tell you everything, didn’t he?”

“He was terrified. He told me he thought you were dead, the way you flew off the back of the speeder after getting hit..” You murmured.

“What he probably didn’t tell you is that shot just barely missed him.” Rex replied. “I’d been leading but he’d circled around me to get in front. He was goofing around with Hardcase. Bolt whizzed just an inch past his head and hit me instead. He had a blaster burn on the side of his helmet to prove it.”

You shuddered at the thought. “He didn’t tell me that part.”

“Probably also didn’t tell you that he got shot pretty good on Toydaria.” Rex replied. “Not once, but twice, once in the leg and another straight through the chest. Kix thought for sure he was a goner.”

You were familiar with those wounds. A frown pulled your lips. “He didn’t tell me. I had to find them myself.” You grumbled, still bitter. “He’d come back from the mission and told me he’d gotten hurt, but it was nothing serious.” You threw back your drink again. “Bantha shit, if I brushed against him, he winced. Finally made him show me.”

“I’m sure he got an earful after that.” Rex laughed.

“Oh, he did. And he wasn’t even that bothered that he’d nearly died, no, he was more concerned about the fact that his tattoos had been damaged by the shots. He was worried he wouldn’t be able to get new ink over the scars.” You rolled your eyes. “That man…”

“He was just trying not to worry you.” Rex smiled, taking another drink.

“I always worry.” You murmured, rubbing your thumb along the rim of your glass. “Always. About all of you. I always worried that one day Rose would come home and tell me something had happened to Fives, Echo, you… or any of the others.” You chuckled humorlessly, finishing your drink. “And then… one day you showed up at my door instead.”

A heavy silence fell between you. Rex took your empty glass, filling it up once again.

“It seems so silly.” You said. “That he should survive all of that and then just get shot and killed during a routine supply drop. I thought he was unbreakable.” You shook your head. “Guess I was wrong.”

Rex wouldn’t look you in the eye, instead focusing very intently on the glass in his hands.

“It was quick.” Rex said finally, still avoiding your eyes. “He didn’t feel anything. I promise.”

“I know.” You gave him a small, sad smile, squeezing his bicep gently. “And I guess I have that at least. At least… at least I know he didn’t suffer. He wasn’t alone or – or afraid.”

You smiled wistfully, looking out over the skyline.

“There’s a dress in my closet,” You began. “It’s nothing fancy, just a white sundress with lace around the hem and sleeves.”

Rex already seemed to know where this was going. He took a very long drink and followed your gaze out towards the skyline.

“We were going to leave together.” You said quietly. “Get married. Have a family. He had this whole, crazy plan.” You chuckled. “I’d told him I wanted to think about it. It was a big decision, he’d be on the run for the rest of his life, hiding from the Republic. And I’d be part of that.”

You glanced over at Rex. “He told me he was going to tell you. He said we could trust you. Did he ever…?”

Rex shook his head. “No. He never got the chance.”

You nodded, turning back towards the sky. “I was going to say yes.” You whispered. “I was going to go with him when he came back. We were going to run away together… It was all very romantic.” You shook your head, staring down at your glass. “And it was so stupid.”

Rex was quiet for several long moments until finally he rose to his feet, offering you his hand.

“C’mon.” he murmured. “I think that’s enough drinking for one night. Let’s get you home.”

You nodded, taking his hand and letting him pull you to your feet. You swayed. You didn’t realize how much you’d had to drink until you stumbled, falling slightly against his chest.

“The Rose Lounge owner can’t hold her liquor?” Rex teased. “Ironic.”

“Shuddup.” You mumbled, giving him a little shove. “I can walk.”

“Oh no you can’t, Tipsy. C’mere.” He crouched down slightly, and you slumped against his back. He picked you up with ease, bouncing you once to hike you higher up his back. He wrapped his arms around your legs, holding them snug against his torso while your hands wrapped around his shoulders.

“Don’t puke on me.” Rex warned, carrying you piggyback style towards the stairs.

“’M gonna fall off.” You muttered.

“No you won’t. Trust me.”

Your eyes were heavy, cheek pressed against the back of Rex’s neck and you remembered a time very long ago when another man had carried you on his back to this rooftop, and said the very same thing.

“I trust you, Rose.”

Rex was still. You hadn’t noticed your slip, your eyes already slipping closed.

“Okay.” His voice echoed. “I’ve got you.”

I’ve got you.

TAG LIST: @fat-zygerrian @ladydiomede @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life @threevie @cheesemachine44 @bubblyacey @fivedicksinatrenchcoat @loverofclones @starwarsgarbage @hockeyjedi13 @crazygirlwithasword @dar-manda-rjct @gotomarvelgal @baba-fett @whore4rex

#ro writes #BAON #ByAnyOtherName #Rex x Reader #Captain Rex x Reader #Fives x Reader #ARC Trooper Fives x Reader #OC Rose #Ro's OCs #star wars #star wars the clone wars #swtcw #tcw

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kenmasangel · 4 years

Text

getting back together after years

synopsis : the get back, part 1 “why am i even with you”

characters : sakusa, tsukishima

genre : fluff

warning : cursing, mention of alcohol

an : sorry for any gramma or spelling mistakes, everytime i’d right it was nighttime and i’d be really tired so i wasn’t able to focus 100%. please notice me of any mistakes masterlist

Sakusa Kiyoomi

years have passed since your break up with sakusa, it was a sad but necessary break up for you to move on and finally glow up

you also realized that the only person you truly ever needed was yourself and you worked hard to be the person you are today

“at the end of the day, men are trash,” you would try to cheer your friend who had a fight with her boyfriend in one of the best clubs of tokyo. “so wipe your tears and come move your hips,”

on the professional side you became tokyo's favorite journalist, sports related; not only because of your looks but also your professionalism and personality

every hot athlete you've ever interviewed tried to get with you, but they always got rejected

on the other hand sakusa joined MSBY Black Jackals; a professional volleyball team in japan's v.league, in the top tier of division 1

yes sir period

he never dated someone else, the break up kinda broke his heart but he'll never admit it

he also became more distant with people lowkey

however, one day your manager called you to tell you about who are you going to interview next

as she mentionned the name of a famous volleyball team you couldn’t stop your mind of thinking about your ex who used to play volleyball

little did you know that he was a part of the team

lmao who gon tell you

when you got back home you decided to do some research about that MSBY team or whatever

...

oh to your surprise when you saw sakusa kiyoomi’s face there

“no shit,” you mumbled to yourself lowkey annoyed

after the brake up you grew stronger and more independent as you put in mind that all men are trash, you didn’t want to go through that steretipycal sad phase where your self confidence would be all crushed. you wanted to remain strong and you learned how to truly love yourself without expecting anything from anyone as you had your own self

period boo

anyway, you kinda had numbed all your feelings, and to see him now made all your memories with him comeback; how you first met, your first kiss, your first dates and that fight

so here you were, in your appartement checking out their previous interviews trying to get all the juice you needed yet your mind would still zone out on his face

“just keep it pro, y/n, he probably even forgot about you, just keep it pro,” you told yourself before turning off your pc

the day of the interview, here we finally are. the MSBY team knew they had an interview with the most appreciated journalist of all times so they got ready.

“do y’all think they’re cute ?” asks atsumu, “if they’re cute you better back off guys, i’m sure i’m going to catch their attention anyway,” he cockily adds flipping his bang and flexing his muscles, no one bothered answering him at this point they were used to him

“they’re here,” their manager clapped in his hands. “don’t forget what i told you guys, they are very influent so don’t mess it up and don’t scare them away,” he looked at atsumu and bokuto who just stuck their tongues out

“good morning,” you greeted all of them and bowed, “i’m l/n y/n, the journalist who’ll interview you today,” you looked at all of them with a poker face. saying that sakusa was surprised would be an understatement; he was in shock, his brain forgot how to function correctly. you followed the others who took you to the room where all the staff would chill, offering you coffee, tea and snacks

sakusa couldn’t keep his eyes off you, seeing you after all these years was like a wave of fresh air; he was relieved to see you successful and blooming, what a beautiful sight he thought when he saw you laughing with his teammates as he got in the room. but at the same time his heart ached him as he remembred what made you two go separate ways and the guilt he tried to hide deep inside him all those years started creeping up again in his chest

“c’mon, it’s just an interview,” he sighed before sitting on a chair behind his team

the interview started and it was going fine, sakusa’s teammates were cool and you had a lot of fun interviewing them. you liked their chaotic energy and it happened for you to match it, they immediately liked you

“y/n-chan,” started atsumu getting close to you, ”would you like to go out with me tonight, we could have dinner together or just grab a drink-”

“okay barry b. benson, you’re not my type sorry,” you stopped him as you pinched his cheek making all his teammates laugh, you got a pout from him but he eventually laughed liking your attitude

“y/n-chan, why don’t you come and have dinner with us tonight?” asked bokuto with sparkles in his eyes, “oooh~ say please we’d love to!” joined him hinata with the same sparkles in his eyes

you akwardly chuckle looking at sakusa then bringing your stare back at them, “i don’t kno-”, “please come, it would be nice,” finally adds sakusa what made you look back at him

you kept staring at each other for moment before you nodded makinf the three balls of chaotic energy; bokuto, hinata and atsumu scream a ‘yes!’ you exchanged numbers and you went back home

well, that wasn’t too bad you thought to yourself once back at you appartement plopping on your couch

for some reason your heart was beating fast and you damned those feelings you tried to hide and not get rid of for coming back

he was looking as handsome as ever, you were not going to lie

and that look in his eyes... was it regret ?

“as he fucking should,” you shook your head thinking about what he’d said in that fight

but you were young, he probably regrets, “stfu stupid heart,”

you got up and got ready for tonight’s dinner

“keep that poker face y/n, you’re doing great” you said to yourself before getting into the restaurant, you quickly saw hands waving at you, spotting the team and you went to the table. there was a place left next to bokuto and sakusa, just great, you tried hard not to roll your eyes and sat

the diner was going well, you were not bothered by sakusa’s presence, he didn’t talk much anyway and you had fun talking to the others who were really funny, the thing is that everyone got drunk; hinata and bokuto were hugging each other singing the yarichin bitch anthem, atsumu kept saying ‘ya like jazz?’ every time the someone would pass by, you and sakusa were the only ones in a good state. you couldn’t help but laugh at them trying to stop them but you’d eventually fail

“atsumu please stop,” you tried to stop him from getting on the table to ask everyone if they liked jazz, “i won’t unless you tell me ya like jazz, honey,” he wiggled his eyebrows as you couldn’t help yourself from laughing, “i do like jazz now sit down,” you finally said

sakusa kept thinking if he should talk to you or not in the mean time, he couldn’t help but to create two imaginary cases in his mind one for that says ‘yes’ and the other one ‘no’, he finally came back to earth when you sat back down after stopping tsumu from performing a jazz song

“but y/n i swear it’s a good jazz song, it is called... Jailhouse Rock by Elvis Presley,” he grins proud of himself, you stare at him trying to hold your laughter and when you were going to anwser you heared sakusa do it first, “no miya, and make the owl and the tangerine stop crying,” atsumu salutes him and goes to talk to the crying duo

“long time no see, l/n,” he finally says making your heart miss a beat

“never thought i’d see you again sakusa,” you answer, finally looking at him

“glad to see you’re doing well,” he adds. “even tho i wish we’d be on good terms,” you sigh turning your head. “gotta admit i am the one to blame,”

“glad to see you are mature enough to admit your wrongs,” you anwser him sipping on your drink

“i’ve always knew that i was the one who fucked up, y/n... maybe back then i just didn’t have the guts to admit it, nor to try keeping you close to me. i just saw how you were doing better off without me, and i thought it was better to let go even if it did hurt me...” he finally admits

all what you wanted to hear, craved to hear when you broke up with him. you felt some type of way, good memories you had with him flooding your mind and the feelings you’ve once had for the pretty germaphobe

what were you gonna say? were you finally ready to forgive him and move on or stay on your positions and just live like you’ve been living since the brake up

“well... we’re grown ups now, it’s all forgiven and forgotten,” you give him a small smile,

“thank you,” it was then quiet for a brief moment before he finally decided to man up, “i missed you,” he looked down at his plate

wow the butterflies in your tummy, heart and brain went off with no warnings, you stared at him with wide eyes trying to comprehend what on god’s green earth did he just say

did you miss him too ? did you hate him ? were you over the fight ? did you really stop loving him or did you just hide those feelings ?

too many questions yet no answers, as he realized you didn’t answer he mumbled few apologies but you stopped him telling it was fine

“it’s just... it’s been so many years and we didn’t end up on good terms,” you explain

“yeah, no, i totally understand that is normal,” you nodd looking down at your lap. “can i hold your hand?”

“pardon me?”

“can i hold your hand? fuck that y/n, can i have another chance? allow treat you right, to love you deeply. that guilt that built up in me kept growing with the years, and now that you’re finally here i just want one thing as i see your face is to make up for everything, even after years.”

oh wow, you were definitely not expecting that; not from sakusa who wasn’t this expressive with his feelings and especially not after all these years

you held his hand and smiled sincerly at him, “it’ll take me time; to figure out how i feel and to trust you again, but i’d like to give it a chance,” he smiled back, hope filling his eyes

after that night you tried to spend a lot of time together

usually he would be the one to initiate it

he did his best to prove you that you can trust him and that he became a better person for you

your heart would melt everytime he told you about a memory of you together or how he still remembered stuff about you

you were on your guards in the beginning but slowly you began to soften

eventually you got back together, but that’s another story

it took several months but you don’t even know how happy he was

oh and let’s just not talk about the media and how powerful you guys were

anyway you were happy and that’s what matters

Tsukishima Kei

ara ara what we have here

do you know how the life works in a weird way sometimes? a compilation of events that happen by sheer luck, fucking coincidences that are just way out of this world that lead you to bump into that one person even if you don’t want to?

no ? aight sorry

anyway, that is lowkey what life had in store for you and salt shaker man

tsukishima had gotten into that college he wanted to attend

he was happy but he would’ve secretely loved if you were there to share his happiness

oh how little did he know that you got into that college too

ahaha *awkward laughter*

homeboy found it out in a special way, not the best way there is but you know he had to know a way or another

he went to that party with his two roomates who actually lowkey forced him ngl

as he was making his way to the kitchen he heard someone laughing, a laugh he’s heard way too many times but he shook it off thinking about how many people may have the same laughter

“oi y/n, you look hot!” a male’s voice shouted

what ?

there was no way you were there and he decided to make sure by checking out by himself

he was CHOKED when he saw you there

“tell me something i don’t know,” you laughed as you approached the boy who called you. “what’s up hot stuff ?” he said as you were finally next to him

hot stuff? tsukki almost gagged at the horrible name you were just given, yet it was not false that you were indeed ‘hot’; you looked as flawless as ever, you did a 180° change

the sweet, soft, innocent y/n was replaced by the baddest bitch in the motherfucking block he almost didn’t recognize you. he wondered if you stayed together would you have gone through this change an didn’t notice you coming his way

“god, don’t stand in the middle of the- tsukishima ?” you stopped when you saw his face. “you attending a party, what a surprise,” you stood there a hand on your hip

“oh y/n, how are you?” homeboy didn’t know how to act at this point, he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck

“i’m doing great actually, so did you get into here ? the ‘college of your dreams’,” he could feel the sarcasm in your voice, he also noticed how cold you were

“yeah, thankfully. where’d you go ?”

“oh i go here, the same college as you,” you fake a smile, he feels his heart miss a beat.. or two.“you know sometimes i look back, and i can’t help from noticing that being in a committed relationship didn’t stop me from attending one of the best colleges out there and you, on the other hand who didn’t want anything to do with a relationship got here too,” you spat, obviously you didn’t get to tell him how you felt when you broke up. “good thing i’m not in the same major as you though,” you sighed

“y/n i_,”

“no save it tsukishima, there’s no need to say whatever you want to say. at this point i’ve moved on, i just found it funny to see you here after what you’ve said and how i actually also got here; now i know for sure that you were the problem... and i hated myself thinking it was me,” you scoff. “hope i won’t get to see you often, good luck for the rest,” and with that you left, joining a group of friends who waved for you to join them

needless to mention that he was pissed and heartbroken

he was not expecting that from you, he always saw you as this delicate person whose kindness is infinite

now, oh now he didn’t recognize you

even your voice got more.. mature? cold? idk

anyway after your encounter he directly headed back to his dorm

he couldn’t sleep the whole night rethinking about all what those years with you and what you said, you hated yourself as you thought you were the problem

bravo tsukishima they hate you, he thought to himself

uhm lol so the rest of your college ‘journey’ went without the two of you seeing each other

you were both majoring in different stuff, the campus is huge, y’alls schedules didn’t match and you had different friend groups

yet rarely he would find you at the library at 4am, many empty coffee cans on your table, looking all sleepy with your glasses falling off and your hair in a messy bun

“fucking ass why on god’s poluted earth did i ever want to major in that fucking shit of a topic, couldn’t i do something basic like stripper or something ? ugh fml,” he caught you once in the middle of an existencial crisis

he couldn’t help his lips from twitching upwards and he couldn’t stop the memories of the two of you studying together flooding his mind

he never came close to you tho, especially after what you told him in that party

sad </3

you guys graduated from college fucking finally

congrats folks you did it!

and you thought it was the end of your story

how sweet, how naive

uh-uh baby life decided otherwise and you saw each other years later

in the same company 🤪

“oi tsukishima-san, don’t forget we have a metting with the new manager in 10,”

how could he forget ? everyone has been talking about this manager for a week

tsukki was respected by all his work mates as he was such a good element what made him get the best promotions and claims from his boss

n e way

he got into the conf room where everyone was seated and took his place waiting for the new manager and the boss to come in, he was clearly annoyed and didn’t want to be there; he just wanted to finish his work on go back home

anyway his attention was brought back by his boss entering the room, “good evening everyone, with no longer introduction let me introduce you to y/l/n y/n your new manager,”

tsukki’s head SNAPPED, he almost broke his neck

tsukiskima.exe has stopped working

you were surprised when your eyes landed on him too but you’re a bad bitch and kept it professional

he couldn’t focus for the rest of the meeting, even tho it was just presentations and basic information for the future collaboration

the meeting ended and everyone went back home, except for you as you stayed in late to work on some stuff

you thought you were alone since it was late, but you were wrong since tsukishima had also stayed in late to finish up whatever file he was asked to analize

this is why you were startled when you heard some noise and a tall figure got out of the office ahead of you

“oh my,” you held your chest and relaxed when you noticed it was tsukishima, “i thought i was alone,”

“staying in late on your first day huh, didn’t know you were still here,” he responded, you noticed how his tone didn’t change from when you first met him in highschool, maybe his voice got a bit more deeper tho

you couldn’t help noticing how good he looked in his suit, it fit him really well. his broad shoulders covered by the dark blue vest, the first few buttons of his white vector shirt opened letting you lowkey see his collarbone

“yea well i’m leaving now, good night,” you quickly say and took your leave, seeing him after all this time was weird and you didn’t know how to feel

you still remember what you said the last time you saw him at that party, you were hurt and you said some things you probably regret by now and you thought that he probably hated your guts and as long as you wanted to be at the top in your new work you still decided to stay away from him

“ugh what a dumbass,” you whined and slapped the back of your head thinking tsukishima was still in the floor you left him in, but he saw you and his lips twitched upwards

everytime he thinks you can’t look any better you prove him wrong, he thought to himself as he went to his car finally heading back home. after all those years life decided to still play with you guys and put you in the same company, i mean, he wasn’t complaining but he wished it wasn’t awkward between the two of you

you guys started working together, a new journey for the both of you started

he thought you still hated him and that is why he was cold with you :(

so you were both distant with each other and if you ever had to talk it was cold, formal and quick

it’s been a few weeks your collegues had noticed the tension between the two of you

they were lowkey sus of something but didn’t want to butt in

it was physically painful to watch

n e way everything was going more or less smoothly until a new face made an appariction in the company

“my god! what are you doing here?” you hugged the good looking man

“i missed you and i thought that i couldn’t live without you, so i am here to cling,” you pull away and playfully slap his chest. “nah more seriously i am here to get that bag boo,”

“as you should hun, so you’re a trainee huh? i’ll ask them to put you under my supervision,” you wink

“say less,” he flirtily gets close to you

“uhm, sorry to interrupt your i bet very educational discussion but y/l/n, here, the file,” tsukishima butts in out of nowhere, his voice colder than usual and his eyes lowkey darker than usual

“oh thank you,” and he left

“well, that was awkward,” your friend cringes

“shut up, yuuji,” you roll your eyes

“wait wasn’t that tsukishami? sushikima? suspicual tall bitch who broke your heart?” the last attempt made you chuckle

“yes, it is,” you sigh, going through the file. “i can’t believe you still remeber that!”

“miss girl, you were not the one listening at your own self sobbing at how some tall, blonde, salt shaker broke your heart and how you’d want to, and i quote “punch his beautiful face then hug him so tight that i’ll squeeze his organs”,”

you narrow your eyes at him then for quite a while, then you scoff, “i am glad you’re here, dickhead,”

“so am i, headass,” he gives you a sincere smile

yuuji’s presence made things complicated even more

tsukishima didn’t appreciate the new flirty, good looking, lowkey smart trainee who was under your supervision

he was more irritable than usual, he knew he had no right to feel like that but still, he couldn’t help it

everytime he saw you two together working, laughing, grabing lunch together or even just being in the same area it made him want to break walls

but he couldn’t

he also saw how yuuji would flirt with other female collegues and it made him furious; you didn’t deserve that!

deserve what tho lol you and yuuji were friends but since tsukki was blinded by his jealousy or whatever he was feeling he assumes you were a thing or soon to be a thing

dumb mf

anyway

your boss had assigned you an important file to work on

all cool and shit until he mentioned that you had to work with tsukishima

ahaha.......... right

you started working the day after

°3°

it was awkward as fuck ngl, y’all would share max up to 3 words in a matter of 20mins

each one of you was sitting in their side

the tension buddy, the tension!!!!!

idk how you survived

day 2: you slapped some sense in yourself and an old relationship that ended in bad terms shouldn’t affect your work years after

so you started talking more, always pro stuff, but still

kei was the same as yesterday but that didn’t surprise you since he was always like that and you weren’t expecting anything from him except contribute effectively to the work, what he did

day 3: work in progress, nothing less

day 4: same as day 3 except that you stayed in later than the previous days

day 5: yuuji bursted in because he had broought you food, he kissed your temple before he left wishing you good luck. tsukki almost gagged, homie was fuming in rage

day 6:

it was late, everyone had left but you and kei still working on that goddamn file, thankfully he had given enough time to finish the work

“y/l/n, the food is here,” tells you tsukishima as he got back into the office

“thanks, i almost died from hunger,” you get up getting what you ordered

you were eating in silence until tall man decided to speak up, “funny, huh?” you looked at him confused. “how we went to the same highschool, same college and now we are working together,”

you just let an “oh” thinking about what you told him in that frat party, “i guess you were right, i was the problem,”

“tsukishima look, it’s been years and it’s all forgotten now okay?” he looks at his food, his mind elswhere

“remember what you told me in that party?”

“tsuki-”

“i mean, now that we’re grown ups we can talk about it, right? i feel like i didn’t get closure, not like i deserve it but still,8

you just nodd and go sit in front of him

“well, i lashed out on you on that party because i didn’t get closure, i was obviously still hurt and petty and immature. Seeing you there was like a slap in the face, i really want to apologize but i feel like what i said was true,”

“and it was true, it took sometime to accept it and realiwe it, but you don’t need to apologize; i didn’t treat you right, so i am sorry,”

you give him a small smile, “i am also sorry, i shouldn’t have talked to you that way it was rude,”

“but true,” he adds and you chuckle

“yeah, it’s all fine now. we can start over again,”

“i mean, i’d like to,” he gives you a small, tiny smile but you could still see it

“y/n?”

“mmh?” you look at him, your mouth full and cheeks about to explode

“i know we just made up and stuff but... please be careful with that new trainee,”

“yuuji? what why?”

“look i’m a man and i know wha another man thinks when i see him in action, and he’s just... not trustworthy i guess,”

“tsukishima kei, tf are trying to say?”

“look, i don’t want you to get hurt! but he is all flirty with other women and it’s just a huge disrespect to you and your relationship,” he explains

you look at him with wide eyes than laugh your ass off, you couldn’t believe what you just heard

“tsukki, yuuji is my bestfriend we’re not dating,” you wipe a tear tha slipped

he just stares at you, “oh” is all what he could say

“thanks for worrying tho,”

“whatever,” he rolls his eyes

as the days went by you and kei got closer

he would tease you and you’d tease him back

“oi, salt shaker, put my stuff on a high shelf again and i’ll pull your highschool pictures when you played vb,”

“as if you still have them” he scoffs

“don’t mess with me!”

“whatever shortie- OW why would you throw the stapler at me?”

“it’s your mouth that i’m gonna staple next time,”

anyway it was all giggles and shit

you enjoyed working together and gaining your complicity back

the due date came, you had to present in front of 3 other CEOs and your own ceo

you did an amazing job, obviously

everyone liked the harmony between the two of you and how neat your work was

“WOHOO here’s my bad bitch,” yuuji hugged you after the deliberation

“stfu we’re not alone,” you laugh. “did i look good?” you ask

he smirks and checks you out, twirling you and wolf whistling, “hotter than ever and thicker than snicker,” you laugh at his remark

“uhm-uhm,” tsukishima came behind you

“hey, sushimika, good job out there,” yuuji gives him a big grin

tsukishima just nodds and his eyes dart to yuuji’s arm around your waist, something he notices

“erm anyway, Vanessa is calling me gotta go,” he kisses your head and leaves

“he’s one of a kind, i gotta admit,” you say pulling him out of his trance

“i mean, y’all are bestfriends so i’m not surprised,” you roll your eyes

“we did a good job out there, i mean i was better but you weren’t too bad yourself,” he smirks

“you’re so annoying,” you laugh. “i guess we make a good duo,”

you lookn at each other for a while before tsukki finally speaks up

“uhm look, i know it’s only been one month since we’re back to normal but... would you maybe like to have dinner with me?” he rubbs the back of his neck

“like a date?”

“you know what i mean y/n,” he rolls his eyes

“uhm sorry i don’t clearly see what you mean,” you grimace

“ugh alright, like on a date, would go with me yes or no ?”

you laugh at his impatience, “pick me up at 7,”

“is that a yes?”

“you know what i mean, tsukki,” you say as you leave

so the date went well

really well

you didn’t want to burn steps so you lowkey took your time in the process of getting back together

going on dates, talking everything out to build a strong base

work together was fun

i mean i’m not gonna talk about the sneaky make out sessions but haha you know 👀

surely you got back together, even shared an appartement and you are the happiest you’ve ever been

he proposed 3 years after

fin

taglist : @fallingforyuu @ukhyeonn @yeonayona @terminallyvolatile @bryai003 @ichigo-post @virgyalizu

i truly hope you like it, <3

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asweetprologue · 4 years

Text

window to the soul

Octoberfest 3: ghost (from geraskier hollow) + stare

“It’s drawn to strong emotions,” Geralt said, and Jaskier knew that he was about to become bait.

The monster of the week was a wraith, but of an unusual type. Over the years of traveling together, Jaskier had seen plenty of wraiths - noonwraiths, nightwraiths, even a plague maiden once. He probably could take one on himself, knowing what he did about the process of destroying them, though it would be difficult without the use of yrden holding them in the physical realm. Luckily it was Geralt’s job to dispatch them. Jaskier usually didn’t even go along to watch anymore, unless the story behind the haunting was particularly ballad worthy.

This time, the wraith was different. Geralt had quickly identified the lost soul, a young woman who had recently died. She’d been deeply in love with a merchant that had regularly come and gone from the town, and had tried to cast a spell to trap his heart. Jaskier knew, after everything with Geralt and the djinn, that there was no curse or potion that could truly emulate love. Her spell had made the merchant obsessed with her, the man driven slowly mad by a fixation that he did not want and could not escape. In the end he had killed the girl and then himself, to escape from the madness that she had struck into his mind. The strength of her grief and the magic of the binding spell had changed the spirit of the woman into something else entirely, something extremely dangerous.

“It’s a sort of hybrid between a vampire and a wraith,” he explained. They were in the field beyond the village, and Geralt was meticulously checking over his potions. His blades were laid off to the side, the slick oil that he used to slay spectres shining across his silver blade. It was nearing sunset, the twilight hour that made it easier for apparitions to make themselves seen in the material world. Jaskier was sitting across from him, nervously stripping leaves from a small twig. Geralt continued. “The emotion she felt and her unrequited love turned her into a heartwraith. Sometimes people call them ‘hungry ghosts.’ They’re never satisfied, and they feed off of people’s emotions to try and fill the void in them.”

“Sounds like a truly awful existence,” Jaskier mused, watching Geralt. The evening light played across his broad shoulders, turning his hair from silver to gold. Jaskier thought he might be able to understand where she was coming from, even if he’d never have tried to bind Geralt to him unwillingly. It was a terrible thing, to be so deeply and unfortunately in love with someone who didn’t want you.

“I need to draw her out,” Geralt said gruffly. “She’s seeking out powerful emotions, like the couple that were attacked and the man who was beating his wife. I’ll need your help.” Jaskier sighed. Of course, it didn’t make much sense for Geralt to try to draw her out. Though Jaskier didn’t subscribe to the notion that witchers felt less than regular humans, Geralt was what Jaskier would dub repressed. The man couldn’t look an honest emotional conversation in the face without getting flustered and running away.

“Whatever you need,” Jaskier said, like he always did. He didn’t love playing bait, but he knew Geralt would never let anything bad happen to him.

Geralt nodded and picked up his silver sword, his steel one still securely in its sheath on his back. “Come on. We need to build a fire to destroy her locket.” The girl had kept a locket with a small lock of the merchant’s hair inside, which Geralt had guessed helped tie her to this plane. Over the next few minutes, the two men built a small pyre. Geralt pressed the locket into Jaskier’s palm, his fingers brushing over Jaskier’s skin. He tried not to blush at the contact.

“When she’s distracted, throw this into the fire. It’ll weaken her,” Geralt said. Jaskier nodded mutely, clutching the warm metal close. The fire crackled merrily beside them, painting the landscape around them in swatches of ocher and dark blue. It was truly approaching night now, only the barest hint of sunlight still left on the far horizon.

“What do you need me to do?” Jaskier asked. “To get her attention, I mean.”

Geralt gave him an odd look. “Nothing. I’m going to draw her in.” Geralt’s face was pinched in a way that Jaskier had come to realize meant he was experiencing some kind of emotion, though it was always hard to tell which one. Anger, frustration, sadness and pain all translated into relatively the same expression - tight jaw, drawn eyebrows, thinned lips. Jaskier wanted to reach out and sooth the tension from his friend’s features, but luckily the locket demanded his hands’ wandering attention. Geralt gestured to the soft earth beside the fire, clearly bidding Jaskier to sit. He did so, flopping gracelessly into a crossed legged position, back straight from tension. It was hard to forget that a wraith could appear any moment to wreck the quiet evening.

Geralt settled next to him, dropping into the kneeling position that he favored for meditation. His eyes were grave as he looked over Jaskier’s face. “Just… sit still,” he said softly. Jaskier wasn’t sure what to do with that tone, so he just tried to do as Geralt asked. He settled in, waiting for something to happen, but Geralt just stared at him.

For a moment it was awkward. Jaskier felt a blush spread across his cheeks as those golden eyes regarded him, sweeping over his face and following the line of his neck. Geralt was a man who always split his attention half a dozen ways at once, one eye always on the door and an ear out for trouble. Jaskier had accepted long ago that Geralt never fully listened to him, and that was alright. It wasn’t in his nature, and Jaskier didn’t need participation to hold a conversation. Now, though, he felt the full force of Geralt’s focus on him, looking back at him as if trying to see beyond a mask. Geralt’s own face was impassive, that slight frown still marring his features.

What could he hope to accomplish through this? If he wanted to elicit strong emotions, there were certainly easier ways to do it than a staring contest. Jaskier didn’t think he’d ever elicited strong emotions in anyone that he wasn’t actively singing to. It was he who was often overtaken by the whims of his own heart, prone to fits of temper and weeks of lovesickness by turn. Geralt never seemed to feel anything other than mild annoyance. Gods, what if Jaskier annoyed him so much that just looking at him made the witcher angry enough to summon a spectre? Jaskier knew he could be infuriating, but surely if Geralt detested him that much he would just leave Jaskier behind. Right?

Anxiety filled his chest, but he’d been instructed specifically not to move. Forcing himself to relax, Jaskier found himself taking the opportunity to just look back for once, something he so rarely had a chance to do. He absorbed all the details of Geralt’s face that he never allowed himself to - the way Geralt’s left eyebrow was ever so slightly interrupted by a tiny scar, the slight wrinkles on his forehead from years of frowning and the even fainter ones around his eyes, the ever so slight part of his lips. The dramatic light of the fire and the moon overhead made his face into a patchwork landscape of color, the valley of purple shadow in the hollow of his cheek highlighted by soft gold. Jaskier committed every feature to memory, thinking of the notebooks he could fill with songs dedicated to Geralt’s eyes and lips and brilliant white hair. He loved him so much it felt like it was going to drown him, leaving no room in his chest for his lungs.

After he’d finally taken in all the abstract elements of Geralt’s face that he could in the low light, Jaskier’s eyes dragged back to meet Geralt’s. The gold of his irises were nearly consumed by dark pupil, his eyes expanding to take in as much light as possible in the darkness. In this lighting he looked both more and less human, and it made Jaskier feel helplessly fond. Their eyes met, and suddenly the situation struck Jaskier as a bit funny. Two men sitting in a field, silently staring at each other, one pining away like nothing else while the other tried to summon a ghost. It was ridiculous. He quirked a playful eyebrow at Geralt, as if to say, Aren’t we just a couple of fools?

Jaskier watched Geralt’s face shift, a second of surprise flitting across his face. And then, without warning, there was something new there, something Jaskier didn’t think he’d ever seen before. A softening in Geralt’s eyes, in his brow, as he looked at Jaskier, open and affectionate. The expression hit Jaskier like a punch, or a kiss, demanding and devastating. Geralt’s mouth opened on a low exhale, and Jaskier leaned forward, wondering if he dared, if Geralt might -

There was a screech, and the wraith was upon them.

Geralt was up in an instant, silver sword flashing as he blocked a clawed hand from coming down on Jaskier’s head. Jaskier yelped as he scurried out of the way, clutching the locket he’d almost forgotten. There was a sudden burst of purple light in the field, making the shadows around them dance and twist eerily. The wraith made a horrible noise, like flint scraping across metal, endless and clearly annoyed. Geralt pushed her against the wall of the magical trap, cutting off bits of wispy energy with his sword.

Jaskier wasn’t sure when the exact right time was, but the wraith was certainly distracted. Jumping forward, he tossed the locket down into the fire, watching as the clasp popped open and the little lock of hair fell into the embers. It caught quickly, and Jaskier heard the wraith shriek again, this time a haunting and mournful sound. When he turned back it was just in time to see Geralt shove his sword in her chest. The strange, cottony fabric of her ragged dress seemed to dissipate in the wind, her dry flesh cracking and falling away like old paint. After a moment there was nothing left but a pile of ash.

“Go in peace,” Geralt said, and turned to Jaskier. Dropping to one knee, he said, “Are you hurt?”

Jaskier pushed himself into a better sitting position. They were close, too close. He hoped the warmth of the fire would mask his blush. “I’m fine, thanks to you. Is she really gone?”

Geralt nodded. “Should be. She has no tether to this world anymore without the locket.”

“Right,” Jaskier said. He paused. “So. Um. What you did there seemed to work, at least.”

Geralt leaned back away, out of Jaskier’s space. He missed the proximity immediately. “I wouldn’t have exposed you if I could think of another way.”

“Well, it’s not easy to find someone as irritating as me on such short notice,” Jaskier said nervously. “Hardly efficient.”

Geralt gave an almost comical shake of his head, surprise slapped across his features. “What do you mean?” he asked.

Jaskier shifted, uncomfortable. Giving a forced laugh, he said, “Well, I can only imagine that you were conjuring up strong emotions of the, ah, annoyance you so often display when I do something like, I don’t know, sing or eat or breathe. I know you’re not so easily swayed by my charms.” He tried to pass it off like a joke, but he knew it fell flat even as he was saying it. There was too much hurt in his throat to make it come out anything less than bitter. He stared into the fire, watching the locket turn a liquid red from the heat.

A warm hand suddenly came up to cradle his jaw, and Jaskier blinked in surprise as Geralt’s fingers urged him to look up. “It’s not that,” Geralt said forcefully. “You must know, Jaskier, you have to - When I look at you, it’s so...” He cut himself off with a frustrated sound. Words had never been his strength. “I feel many things for you, bard.”

Jaskier swallowed. “You do?”

Geralt’s eyes were hot on him, and Jaskier wondered if one could be branded by a glance. It certainly felt like it. “Yes,” Geralt said. “Intensely.”

“Oh,” Jaskier stammered. “Um. I’m not sure if I’m reading all this right, but assuming that you’re saying you don’t hate me, then, ah -”

Geralt gave an annoyed huff, and Jaskier was just about to comment, say something like, see, I am irritating, but then Geralt was kissing him, and he decided to let it go. He leaned into the press of lips, gasping softly. It was brief, nearly over before it began, but Jaskier could feel the warmth of it after Geralt pulled away, breath ghosting over his skin. Jaskier shivered.

“Quite the opposite,” Geralt said softly. His eyes were molten gold, hotter than the locket still melting in the fire at Jaskier’s side, and Jaskier never wanted to look away.

“Oh, well, that’s a relief,” he said, and leaned up to kiss him again.

this fic was heavily inspired by Somedrunkpirate’s piece A Lover’s Lament, which is one of my favorite stories of all time. If you read it you’ll be able to see exactly what scene I borrowed from, and I need you to know that it lives in my head rent free.

edit: for some reason tumblr ate everything but the heading for this fic and I didn’t realize until this morning, so thanks to the ten people who liked it with no content LMAO. yall the real

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mrsdeanwinchester19 · 3 years

Text

The Dinner-Sequel to The Interview

Pairing: Steve x reader

Word Count: 3k

Summary: Sequel to The Interview. Steve takes his wife to meet his team after her interview

Warnings: None

“Steve, do you think this dress is ok?” I ask, coming out of our walk-in closet wearing my lace, off the shoulder red dress. Steve is taking me to dinner with the team tonight, so I want to make a good first impression. Most people would think I’ve met the team before, but Steve kept our relationship a secret in the beginning and then the team broke up because of the Accords and we got married when we were on the run, so we really couldn’t invite any of the team members.

We had our wedding in Norway, one of the few countries that hadn’t signed the Accords. They claimed they didn’t sign because if a non-government owned unit made from people from different countries called the Alsos Unit hadn’t helped them in World War II, the Germans would have succeeded in creating an Atomic bomb in their country. In Norway, there was one team member, Thor, who was visiting Earth; he vouched for us.

After our wedding, we went to Wakanda on our honeymoon and visited Bucky. We had been having dinner with Bucky, T’Challa, and Shuri when we told him we got married. He was upset that he couldn’t be there, but he understood when he found out the wedding happened when he was asleep. When he said Steve could make it up to him by naming his first son James; Steve started choking on his Umqombothi drink. I know Steve wants kids, but he wasn’t willing to have them while being on the run. Now that we’re not hiding, we’re actively trying for a baby. I wonder if tonight he’ll break the news that he has a wife AND is trying to get said wife pregnant.

As I walk out of the closet, I bend down to adjust the ankle strap on my right heel. I stand back up, smooth my dress, and look up at Steve. He’s staring at me with a dopey smile on his face, love evident in his eyes. “The dress itself is fine, you make it look perfect.”

“Ugh, Steve, quit it with the cheesy lines,” I protest while blushing. Men used to say these things to their wives and girlfriends back in their time, it’s why Steve and Bucky can be prince charming when they want to be. Bucky more often than Steve now that he’s more like his old self, or so Steve says.

“I’m just being honest,” he defends, shrugging his shoulders. He comes over to me and wraps his arms around my waist. “You nervous?”

“What do you think?” I ask rhetorically. I haven’t been this nervous since I first met Steve. In 2014, during a career conference once for journalists, the resort we were at was seized by terrorists. One of my coworkers and I were the only ones from The New York Sun attending, despite the fact that it was in New York. I suppose they only wanted to go if the convention was out of town so they could get out of work and go on vacation. We were held in the resort’s Grand Hall for hours until the Avengers were able to save us. There was a pretty big fight between Steve, Thor, Iron Man, Hawkeye, Black Widow, and the terrorists but luckily no one died. I had been hurt in the kerfuffle, a broken finger, but after Steve wrapped my finger in a brace, he allowed me to interview him. During the on-camera interview with him, Thor was teasing him in the background, doing silly faces and the “blah blah blah” hand motion.

Steve had asked for my name and number to “keep in touch and see if my finger heals correctly”. When I gave it to him, he wrote it down in an old-fashioned address book. I hadn’t expected him to call me ever, but he did, asking for a date. At first, he was weary of me being a journalist, in case things ended badly and I wrote a bad article about him. However, a year later, he was thankful I was a journalist because I had access to all archived articles about the Winter Soldier. After that happened, I knew he trusted me wholeheartedly and I felt the same. When the Accords started happening, I had access to the signing, to interview government people about it, and relayed that information to Steve about who he could trust. That was how I found out about Norway not signing.

“They’ll love you,” he says. “Bucky loves you, Tony will probably love you because he’ll think the interview prank you pulled on me was hilarious. Nat and Wanda will be happy another girl is around. Thor likes you, even Loki took a liking to you; he would love the interview prank. Clint will like you, Bruce will like you; no one has a reason to dislike you.

I turn around and take a good look at him. Royal blue dress shirt and black pants. His hair is up and I want nothing more than to run my fingers through it. He keeps me pressed to his body closely and I rub my hands along his chest. “If we didn’t have to go to dinner with your friends, I would be all over you right now.”

“Sorry, last night’s sex is just gonna have to hold you.” I give a little laugh. “I’m just messing with you, I’ll be all over you tonight,” he growls, pulling my face up to his and kissing me deeply. His kisses always leave me breathless, whether they’re passionate like this or small, chaste kisses when he’s leaving for work in the morning. This however, is a whole new level and it’s making my heart go crazy.

Steve picks up the basket on the kitchen counter and we walk out the door. When we get to the car, he opens the door for me, ever the gentleman, before climbing in himself. As he drives there, I fiddle with the hem of my dress. I’m so worried I’ll talk too much or too little, or I’ll offend someone or embarrass Steve. What if I mention something about him that they don’t know? Like that he bawled like a baby at Where the Red Fern Grows and Homeward Bound. Tony would probably love that but I don’t want to make Steve feel bad, I was crying too.

My biggest worry is what they’ll think of me after the interview. Will they think it was funny or will they look at me as unprofessional for not telling them I had a conflict of interest with the Avengers? I think Tony will like me, and maybe Nat, but I have no idea about the others. I don’t think Bucky would come around as much as he does if he really didn’t like spending time with both Steve and me. Besides, sometimes when Steve is on a mission and he isn’t, he comes and keeps me company with old movies and our little two person book club we started. His first choice of book was The Hobbit, which he told me he had read it when it first came out in 1937. He was happy but not surprised to find out there were movies based on them.

When we drive up to the compound, Steve has a difficult time getting me through security. They recognized my face and apparently Tony told them not to let me back. “Don’t alert Tony about her,” Steve said as he explained the situation to the guard. He looked skeptical but agreed.

Steve led me upstairs, but not to the dining room where the team was waiting. He led me to his room. “Well, well, well, Mr. Rogers, I thought we had to meet your friends in a little bit. Though I know you could probably get it done in ten minutes.”

“Ha ha ha, very funny,” he sarcastically replies. “I just needed to grab…this,” he says, pulling his wallet out of his nightstand. “Forgot it here yesterday.”

I simply hum in response to his explanation because I’m too busy looking around his room. I’ve only seen it over FaceTime and in pictures. It’s very different from our room at home. Our house, which we had just moved to from our apartment in preparation for a family, has a farmhouse theme. Our master bedroom has a cream colored walls and one shiplap wall which our bed’s decorative headboard sits against, while our king sized bed is covered in a thick white comforter. There’s a gray bench at the end of our bed and a blue and white rug. There are nightstands on each side of the bed where we keep our small before bed items and our white, shared dresser is on the other side of the room, next to the door for our walk-in closet. We have an attached bath with a clawfoot tub and a shower stall. Our room lets in lots of natural light, which Steve loves because he likes to let the morning sun warm his back on his days off.

This room has a completely different feel to it. It’s much darker than our room at home. The walls are gray and his comforter is dark blue. He has a black dresser across from his bed with a TV mounted to the wall above it. A plain bathroom with just a few essentials like shaving cream, a toothbrush, toothpaste, etc sit on the counter. While our walls at home aren’t covered in pictures, we have more than the two he has here. One is a picture of him and Bucky laughing and the other is of his parents before his father went to war; the war he never came back from. Both pictures he has copies of hanging up at home. There’s a somewhat large window on the wall, but it’s covered with a blackout curtain.

I did most of the decorating at home, while this decorating was all him. “Steve?” He looks at me. “Do you not like our room at home?”

He furrows his eyebrows. “No. I love our place. Why would you think that? Also, that’s very random to be bringing up now.”

“Well it’s just…this room is so different from ours at home. I just didn’t know if you liked the darker colors better. I want you to be comfortable in our room at home. We can change it if you want it to look more like this one.”

He gives a little laugh and turns to face me. “I didn’t decorate this room, Tony’s person did and he gave me this room because it’s the “most masculine”. I prefer our room because it’s bright and spacious. The fact that you decorated it is special to me because it’s like a present you gave to me. Plus, I don’t have the best eye for interior design since everything I grew up with was either floral or had doilies. But to be honest, this one feels a bit like a dungeon. I just don’t bother to change it because I just sleep at home. And I didn’t change it before I met you because even then I just used it to sleep, if I slept at all,” he looks into the distance, remembering all the nights he spent up in the gym, trying to beat the memories out of his mind. He changes the subject, “Ok, so when we go down there I’m gonna have you wait around the corner and then you can come out when I tell you.”

He leads me downstairs and has me wait in a hallway. He walks around the corner and I hear Tony say, “Alright Capsicle, what’s the surprise you have for us?”

“Everybody just sit down and I’ll get to it in a minute,” he replies. The sound of chairs scraping the floor is heard and Tony grumbles something about how he had been planning to have lasagna with Pepper tonight. After a few seconds of silence, Steve comes back around the corner, grabs my hand, and leads me out. I nearly trip over my heels when we start moving and the pit in my stomach only grows.

At the sight of me, Tony and Natasha stand up startled. “What is she doing here?” Tony angrily asks.

“I thought you banned her,” Natasha adds on.

They all begin chattering, asking Steve why I’m here until Bucky calmly says, “Hey Y/N.”

Sam looks at Bucky confused, “You know her?” Bucky nods his head and Sam looks at Steve, confused and a little hurt. “Steve?”

“Everybody,” Steve starts, setting his hand on my lower back. “This is Y/N, my wife.”

“WIFE?!” they all shout at different times. Steve and I get bombarded with about a million questions at once. When did we meet, why weren’t they invited to the wedding, when the wedding was, why I interviewed Steve the way I did, etc.

A loud thud on the balcony draws everyone’s attention. Thor is standing there in his armor and cape, holding his hammer. “Sorry I’m late for team dinner,” he begins but stops when he sees me. “Lady Y/N, I haven’t seen you since the wedding. How has being married to the Captain been?”

“Oh you know, being married to a man-child is a struggle, but he’s hot enough for me to keep him around,” I joke.

“Thor, you know her too?” Tony asks.

“Yes I do. Loki does too but I decided not to bring him tonight. I think it would have been a bad idea.”

“Alright, Tony, sit down and I’ll explain everything,” Steve says. Tony hesitantly sits down and everyone else follows. Steve explained everything from why we met to why we couldn’t invite them to the wedding.

As he’s finishing telling the story and answering questions from the team, Tony’s bots bring in the pasta and Steve gets up and grabs something from the basket we brought. He opens a bottle of wine and begins filling glasses. When he gets to mine, I put my hand over my cup. “Not tonight,” I say.

“But it’s your favorite,” he says.

“I can’t,” I say, not wanting to get in to it.

“C’mon, I won’t let you drink too much,” he says jovially.

“No, Steve…I can’t,” I say forcefully, looking up to make eye contact, hoping he understands without giving anything away.

He understands, but unfortunately his mouth works faster than his brain. He looks down at my stomach and an excited smile spreads on his face. “Are you…?”

I look around the table, seeing the Avengers all looking at us expectedly. I look back at Steve and sheepishly nod. He gasps and nearly drops the bottle, but luckily he realizes that when I reach out to catch it.

“A babe,” Thor says happily. “Mazel tov.”

“They’re not Jewish,” Bucky says to Thor. “Can’t wait to meet little James or Jamie.” I give Bucky a look to let him know it’s not happening. “Ok, Bucky works too.”

Tony puts his head in his hands looking like he’s about to pass out. “Oh my god, we find out Steve is married to a woman I banned from the compound, and now that he’s going to be a father.”

I look at Steve to see him with tears in his eyes. Thankfully, Natasha saves us. “I’d like to propose a toast,” she says, standing up and holding her glass out. “To Steve and Y/N, I hope you have a long, happy marriage and a healthy baby girl that you name Natasha.”

“That was the other thing we had planned to tell you tonight. We’ve been trying for a baby. I guess we were successful.” Steve finishes pouring the drinks while everybody suggests baby names. After a while, the conversation drifts to other things. I enjoy listening to them, though they’re constantly quipping (mostly Tony).

Bucky, who’s sitting next to me, whispers to Steve, who’s on my other side, “Are we going to church this Sunday?” The three of us go to church most Sundays. Steve and Bucky both grew up going to church, and it gives them some hope in a dark world.

Tony, who wasn’t involved in the conversation, cuts in. “Barnes, you could live at church and you still won’t go upstairs when you die.”

Bucky’s metal hand clenches so hard around his fork I’d be surprised if it isn’t bent. He looks at Tony and gives him a very fake, overly sweet smile. “Tony, I love how mean you are to me because it makes me feel less guilty about what I did to your parents.”

Tony stands up, slamming his hands on the table and Bucky mirrors him. It looks like they’re about to attack but Steve intervenes. “Tony, Bucky! Tony, that was uncalled for and Bucky, that was unnecessary. We know how you actually feel about your past and we’ve watched you try to change.” Both men slowly sit back down. “We have a guest.” Bucky relaxes first, then Tony does.

“Y/N,” Tony addresses me. “I need to apologize for my rudeness towards Bucky on my first night officially meeting you. I was hoping not to fight with him tonight.”

“You call that a fight? You should hear these two,” I say, gesturing to Steve and Bucky on either side of me. “These guys can bicker with each other like an old married couple for hours about the smallest things. Last week they had a 45 minute argument on how many times you can reuse a towel before it needs to be washed.”

“Wash it right away,” Steve mutters.

“Steve, we used to use towels so many times before we washed them in the 40s,” Bucky argues.

“Yeah but that was because if we needed to wash things, Mom had to heat up water and then hang-dry it on the balcony. It’s easy to wash things now days.”

“Anyways,” Tony says, stopping their argument. “I guess the interview you gave Cap makes sense now…somewhat.”

“Well I was pissed at him that day, so I think he deserved it.”

Tony smiles at Steve. “You need to bring her around more often.”

Taglist: @imanuglywombat @infernal-fire @dottirose @carpediemm-18

#Steve Rogers #steve x reader #captain america #captain america x reader #Avengers #the interview #the dinner #tony stark #natasha romanoff #bucky barnes #sam wilson #thor

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insaneasgardian · 3 years

Text

Haircut Of Love - Sambucky

Summary: Confessions are made, and lives are changed the day Sam gives Bucky a haircut.

Genre: FLUFF

Warnings: Bucky being slightly sad while thinking of Steve, Bucky thinking that his feelings for Sam are unrequited (they're not), Idiots in love.

A/N: I have actually worked on this for longer than I should've XD A big thank you to @cassiecasyl and @aixabi for being such great friends and helping me out by proofreading, and making suggestions!

He knew he should've stopped Bucky tagging along, but the moment that infamous, "I'm coming with you!" so eagerly left the super soldier's lips, Sam knew it was pointless to persuade him to stay behind.

Not that he really minded, the mission he'd been assigned with was a tough one, and it would've been lonely if Bucky hadn't been so adamant about accompanying him.

Sam stared into the fireplace and focused on the embers as he let his thoughts wander. There were some terrible people to be stuck with in a log cabin in the middle of nowhere, but Bucky certainly wasn't one of them. He was an interesting character for sure, and Sam was sure he still didn't know a whole lot about him, but their relationship had developed all the way from 'a couple of guys' to 'almost best friends'.

"Hey", came the voice of the man Sam had so deeply been thinking of. He turned around with that signature smirk he reserved especially for Bucky, and watched with delight as the White Wolf turned a light pink color, and it wasn't because of the cold.

"I thought you might want to catch a shower, the water's nice and warm" the brunette said, and Sam nodded as he noticed his friend's damp hair from his own shower.

"Man, you need a haircut" Sam remarked, and much to his pleasure elicited a chuckle from Bucky.

"Do I?"

"It has gotten kind of longer..."

"Well, it's not easy to find a hairdresser in the forest"

"I could cut it for you"

The words slipped from his mouth before he could stop himself, and he didn't miss the way Bucky's widened ever so slightly. Sam internally scolded himself, feeling that he'd made things awkward somehow.

There was a slight pause in the atmosphere, but the ex Winter-Soldier eventually smiled. It was a weak smile, but genuine nonetheless.

"I'd like that," he told his friend, "would you mind?".

Sam shook his head, a bit too enthusiastically, and that made Bucky raise his eyebrows

“I can do it now if you want, so I don’t get your greasy ass hair all over me after I’ve gotten out of the shower”, Sam casually slipped in to look less ecstatic than he really was.

Bucky scoffed and crossed his arms at the statement, but his grin only grew wider.

“So… are you gonna give me something to cut your hair with?” his friend asked him, making a scissor snipping motion with his fingers.

The brunette’s lips tugged downwards into a frown and bit his lip as he often did when pondering. Sam couldn’t help but let his eyes wander to the bottom lip in between those pearly white teeth, but he forced himself to snap out of it.

After a brief moment, Bucky snapped the fingers on his vibranium arm and turned to walk towards the room he was staying in. “Wait there!”, he had instructed Sam, who had no intention of getting up from the comfortable position he was in anyway.

Promptly, Bucky had returned, clutching a pair of scissors that Sam immediately identified as a pair of Captain America themed kiddie scissors he had recently bought for his nephew, AJ. He burst out cackling.

“What’s so funny Samuel?” the White Wolf pouted, plopping next to his friend who was dying of laughter.

“You stole that from AJ didn’t you?” Sam pried, inwardly dancing at the thought that his secret crush would want something with his face on it.

“Psh, no… I permanently borrowed it, that’s all”, Bucky insisted, moving from the couch to sit on the floor in front of Sam’s legs so that the other man would be able to cut his hair with more ease.

“Mhm”, Sam hummed, already weaving a piece of Bucky’s hair between his fingers, and snipping it off, just like that. It seemed easy enough, so he kept on going, chopping bits of hair here and there, trimming the areas which really needed it, and taking care not to overdo the cut and end up making Bucky look bald in certain places. He was doing quite well considering that he was equipped with nothing but a pair of small, blunt kiddie scissors, which Sam was certain professional hairdressers did not use

A lovely period of pure silence fell in between the two men. The only sounds were the scissors delicately doing their job of cutting the brown locks, accompanied by the gentle crackle of the fireplace, creating a relaxing atmosphere.

“Steve used to cut my hair, you know… Used to do it all the time in the 40’s” Bucky said, breaking the silence. Sam froze in his movements, but only for a second. It was rare for this man, who had been through so much to talk about his past like this.

“We’d sit outside on the street in the summer, he’d be on a chair with his scissors and I’d sit down in front of him, punk gave a damn good haircut to be honest”, he continued, and Sam chuckled.

“People would give us dirty looks as they walked by, it wasn’t uncommon for people to think Steve and I were a couple, but it was frowned upon to be in a same-sex relationship back then… sometimes still is of course”, his tone was now sad, as if he wanted to admit something, but was refraining from doing so. Sam stopped what he was doing, and set down the scissors, obviously sensing the shift in the atmosphere.

“Still, Steve and I were just friends, that’s all he’d ever wanted to be anyway”, Bucky finally finished.

Sam got off the couch, and slipped down onto the floor next to the 107 year old. “And what about you? Did you ever want to be more than friends?”

Bucky ran a hand over his face, which donned a neutral expression, “It’s complicated Sam… I’d be into a girl one second and thinking about Steve the next”.

Sam gently nudged Bucky’s shoulder with his own, and gave him a small smile, “Bisexual then?”, he questioned.

The other man nodded, and looked at Sam with a grin now gracing his features, “Yea, but you know what? I forgot all about Steve…” he paused to dart his tongue out his mouth and wet his lips, “The day I met another guy I haven’t been able to stop thinking about”.

Sam’s world shattered the moment those words left Bucky’s lips. The thought that the man he had pined after for so long was yearning for another made him want to burst into tears right there. However, Sam Wilson was not the kind of man to be salty over the choices of others. So he kept on the smile he had been wearing the entire time his heart broke over and over again. Yet, he had been so absorbed in his own mind that he failed to notice the longing glances Bucky was shooting at him, the ones he had been giving Sam ever since he first met him.

“Happy you could get that sorted out for you man!” He said brightly, patting Bucky’s back and climbing back onto the couch to resume the haircut.

The ex winter soldier was dumbfounded. Had Sam not noticed how he felt? What if he had? What if he didn’t appreciate the advances?

There was stillness once more, but this time it was incredibly awkward. The two sat absorbed in the silence, no longer so focused on their own thoughts, but on every movement and action the other did.

“All done,” Sam finally said, and gestured towards the large wall mirror in the living room. Bucky looked into it, and nodded.

“You’ve done a nice job, thanks”, he mumbled.

“No problem” Sam told him, getting up from the couch. “I’m going to go take a shower now”, and with that, he rose and climbed the stairs to get to the bathroom. The footsteps faded away and when Bucky heard the bathroom lock click shut, he leaned his back against the couch with a sigh. He ran a tired hand over his face.

What had he done wrong? He’d watched all the movies, read all the books and listened to all the music Sam had suggested. He’d come to see Sam’s family as his own, he cherished Sarah, AJ and Cas with all his heart.

Hell, he’d even taken dating advice from Zemo…. Maybe that’s where he’d gone wrong.

Bucky wasn’t sure. He may have lost the charm he had back in the 40’s, but Sam had always accepted him for who he was. He never questioned Bucky’s past, or forced him to be more social and open. That’s the reason Bucky developed more than platonic feelings towards him. He was so easy to be around.

However, the white wolf figured that if Sam didn’t want anything to do with him romantically, the least he could do was to maintain the relationship status they had now. Not to mention, he had the perfect way to do that.

Mac and cheese. Sam’s favorite food.

A grin grew on his face as he scrambled to the kitchen. It was a tasty and easy thing to cook and would be done before Sam even got out of the shower. Bucky proceeded to locate all the necessary ingredients they had brought to the cabin, and got straight to work.

It wasn’t a difficult job at all. With his swift speed, and his mind set only on the task before him, he was done within minutes. He even managed to get two servings plated beautifully, and just in time too, because as he finished setting the table, Sam descended the stairs and made his way into the kitchen. A smile was drawn on his face at the smell of the meal, and all the previous tension seemed to have dissipated.

“Smells good in here!” he exclaimed, his eyes then landed on the beautifully presented plates of mac and cheese. He gasped and clapped his hands like an excited child, and Bucky couldn’t help but laugh. He thought it was adorable.

“Alright, alright, take a seat Sammy,” Bucky said, gesturing to the bar stools next to the kitchen island which the food rested on.

Both of them rushed to sit down and dig into their dinner. Bucky watched his friends expression as he took the first bite of his food.

Sam’s eyes closed in pure bliss, as his taste buds thanked him. “Buck, this is heaven in my mouth, tastes even better than what Sarah makes”.

Bucky blushed, but quickly tried to hide it with a chuckle, “Sarah’s my teacher, I owe it to her”.

Sam nodded at the statement, but commented no more on the topic. Instead, he took another bite and made eye contact with Bucky. “So… who’s this guy you’ve been crushing on?” he inquired.

Bucky was taken aback by the question, he blinked rapidly, “huh?” he mumbled, earning an eye roll from Sam.

“Listen man, I’ve never pressured you to tell me anything before, but we can’t pretend like that conversation didn’t happen” Sam said gently, setting his cutlery down, and reaching a hand over to place it on Bucky’s vibranium one.

The brunette gulped, closed his eyes, and took two deep breaths. He’d have to get it out. Or else it would slowly kill him to watch Sam find someone else. Even if his feelings were unrequited, the man had a right to know.

“It’s you” he said quietly before he could chicken out.

Sam slowly blinked, and shook his head, “Sorry, repeat that?”.

Bucky groaned and looked up from his plate which he’d been staring at the entire time. He gazed into Sam’s doe brown eyes with his own piercing blue ones, “It’s you! You’re the guy I’ve been crushing on!” he agitatedly replied.

Once more, there was that silence that seemed to be consuming the two of them so much lately. Bucky wanted to cry, to hide the humiliation. He was certain that Sam’s lack of words meant he didn’t feel the same, because Sam always had something to say.

“Forget it,” Bucky choked out, getting up from his seat, but Sam’s hand tightened its grip on his wrist, stopping him from getting away. The super soldier turned around slowly, trying not to make eye contact with Sam so that he wouldn’t see the tears in his eyes.

Then, all of a sudden, Sam rose from his seat and his lips met Bucky’s in what was a tender, loving kiss which shocked the latter, but he readily returned it. They stayed like that for a while, embracing each other as their arms snaked their way around each other's torsos. It was a moment neither of them wanted to break, but were forced to. Eventually, when they pulled apart gasping for air, they looked at each other in surprise, but merriment. Wide beams adorned both of their gorgeous faces, and their eyes glinted with excitement.

“So…” Bucky began, “you were desperate to get a piece of me, why, is it the new hair?” he said teasingly.

“The next time I give you a haircut, it’s gonna be turned into a mullet”, Sam threatened, making the other man raise his hands in surrender.

The mac and cheese was long forgotten as they clutched each other once again. Their hearts were bubbling and overflowing with love for one another, and it was not a love that was going to fizzle and die out. They fit perfectly in each other’s arms, like it’s where they belonged.

Two men, who had their own individual problems denying them a place to be truly content in the world, had finally found their refuge in each other.

Finit

#sambucky #sambucky fluff #tfatws #tfatws fanfiction #tfatws fluff #bucky x sam #sam x bucky #marvel #mcu #tfatws sambucky #sam x bucky fluff #bucky x sam fluff #insaneasgardian #haircut of love #haircut of love insaneasgardian #sambucky fics #sambucky fanfiction #sambucky fluffy fanfiction

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tooweirdforyou · 4 years

Note

Can I ask request Straw Hats reaction to (gn) reader that has a loss of motivation

Straw Hats React To A Shipmate Who Loses Motivation To Continue

A/N : ahhh, this is a little more angsty than I thought- thanks for requesting! :D hope you enjoy.

Note: I wasn’t sure if you wanted separate or together, so I did semi-both?.. ALSO wasn’t sure if there was a specific reason for the loss of motivation so I varied it.

Warning : small.. triggering words near the end. Implications / mentions of possible suicide.

Summary : The straw hats react to your loss of motivation and what they’d say to you.

Luffy

Luffy would be most upset when he sees you’re losing motivation. It wouldn’t matter what for, he’s upset by it.

He doesn’t understand why you wouldn’t want to continue but he’s actually quite understanding. He’s there to try to comfort you.

Luffy is the most understanding one, even if he doesn’t show it. Though there hasn’t been many times where he’s completely given up, he has experienced it once so he knows how I feels.

So when this happens, he doesn’t say anything. He just goes over and pulls you to his chest and hugs you tightly.

“...It’ll be okay. You can start again when you’re ready.. but don’t give up. If you need help, I’ll be there..”

Zoro

When Zoro learns of your loss of motivation, your loss of will to fight on, he doesn’t quite become angry, but he’s harsh about it.

He’s not too good with words and emotions, he’s very blunt, but he is a bit apologetic about it later. He tries to tell you that there’s nothing to lose but rather, something to gain, if you continue to fight. But if you give up, there’s nothing.

So if you had a choice, wouldn’t you keep fighting to benefit something? Why give up and get nothing? Keep fighting. No matter what it takes. And if you need help, Zoro is there for you. You aren’t fighting alone.

“Look, if you get knocked down, get back up and prove your enemies that you aren’t weak. Show them just how tough you can be. Don’t give up.”

Usopp

When Usopp hears you’re losing motivation to continue fighting for your dream, he’s heartbroken.

You remind him of his past self from two years ago. He remembers giving up often, because he was too afraid or believed he was too weak, but luckily, he had friends to be there for him. To bring him back to his feet.

So that’s exactly what he does for you. He comforts you. Tells you to not give up to keep fighting on to achieve your dream, because it’s not impossible. It will become a reality one day, and you won’t be alone.

Because the mighty god Usopp, the brave warrior of the sea is right there by your side, ready to help when you need it.

“Because I, the all Mighty God Usopp! Shall be there whenever you need him! This brave warrior will show you the way and bring you up when you’re feeling down!... so don’t give up. Okay?”

Sanji

When Sanji notices you losing motivation to love, he’s crushed.

He’s been raised to love and respect women, and there’s many men who he respects for their goals and skills. He loves and treats people equally, you are included.

But why don’t you feel the same? Why do you not care anymore? What do you not love?

Depending on your reason, Sanji will do everything he can to show you love. Appreciation. Affection. Endearment. Caring. Etc.

Whether it’s simply doing daily checkups, making small snacks, opening doors, or even listening to you talk all night while he gives you a massage, he will make sure you understand and know why it’s important to keep loving. Whatever happened won’t ever happen again with him or the crew around. You can be happy.

“Don’t give up on love, just yet, [Name]-san. I promise you, everything will work out and be okay. Besides, the crew and I love you. And we always will.”

Nami

When Nami sees you losing motivation to keep smiling, she’s quite devastated and actually feels pain and regret building up inside her.

Why didn’t she notice sooner? What causes you to have so much pain and sadness that you can’t even smile?

She wouldn’t even know how to react or what to do at first, but then once it settles, she confronts and talks to you calmly, the softest and sincerest expression.

She’s sit beside you and make you tell her what’s going on as she listens to every word and holds your hand as comfort. It reminds her of Arlong. Where she felt so much pain and misery, she couldn’t even smile anymore. Until she met Luffy, and the crew that only begun to grow then.

When you finish telling your story after being forced to, she gives you a soft reprimanding before hugging you tightly. She reminds you of her story before stating that the crew is there, and are with you when you need them.

“You aren’t alone, [Name]. I’m here. The crew as well. You don’t have to fight this alone, and if you ever need a lift or a hand, remember, there’s 9 of us. We’ll be with you every step of the way. So don’t give up. Keep smiling!”

Chopper

When Chopper sees you losing motivation to be yourself, he frowns and thinks about his past self. Where he was a monster to society.

He becomes teary and pained at the memory of being feared and hated, that’s why he never liked himself. He always despised himself.. until he met Luffy.

So Chopper talks to you. He tells you it’s bad for your health to be so negative on yourself, talking to you as a doctor. But as a friend, he tells you that you are worthy to be who you are.

Even if other people hate it or judge it, you can always trust Chopper to never do that. Because he felt the same once before. You aren’t alone in this, and you never will be.

“Be yourself, please! It’s good for your health to be happy.... please don’t change yourself for others, [Name].. you deserve to be yourself with your happiness. I won’t ever judge you so be who you want and are meant to be. Don’t give up on yourself.”

Robin

When Robin hears you lose motivation to learn and explore, she’s saddened and deeply upset by it, even if she doesn’t quite show it.

As a historian who loves to learn, she didn’t understand why you were losing motivation for it, but she does eventually. She understands a lot of losing motivation for something.

Though she may not be too good at expressing her concern and encouragement, she tries. Robin would sit beside you and listen to your reason if you shared, before listing off some benefits to learning and exploring new things.

“Let’s not lose hope, [Name]-san. There will always be an adventure waiting for us, for us to learn more about history, about our present, and about our future. To learn new things that will come. So let’s not give up.”

Franky

When Franky sees you unable to continue with your passion, he’s a bit straightforward when trying to comfort and encourage you, only because he doesn’t know why you’re losing motivation.

Everyone has a passion for something, Franky’s was being a shipwright / carpenter. He never wants to stop it. So when you tell him that you’re losing motivation for your passion, he’s a little put off because he doesn’t expect anyone to lose passion.

So Franky talks to you, he’s a bit awkward at first with all of his trying to lighten the mood and all his SUPERS~* but eventually, he calms down and talks to you better.

“Come on, don’t give up on your hope and passion like this! We gotta be SUUUPPERRR~ positive and keep moving forward with our goal. Okay?”

Brook

When Brook hears that to wish to stop being creative, because you lose motivation, his spirit becomes soulless. He’s sad.

Brook is immediately talking to you about it. First, he’ll ask if you’re willing to share your reason for your lack of motivation. If you are, he’s all ears. ( even if he doesn’t have any )

If you aren’t, he respects it and just makes sure to leave a reminder on why it’s good to be creative. It’s a method to let out and express emotions, whether it’s pain, sadness, anger, joy, or more.

He makes sure that you understand because he truly wants you to not give up and keep being creative, because everyone is creative inside. That’s what he believes.

“Express yourself. Write, sing, laugh, dance, play, do anything to let out all your feelings and emotions, be true to yourself and let loose, [Name]-san. Don’t give up on your mind letting it imagine the many possibilities that can come. And I promise everything will be alright.”

Straw Hats

When the whole crew hears you giving up on living, each of them have mixed reactions but all of them are completely speechless and feel their hearts sinking.

None of them would even know what to say. How could they? One of their own, a comrade, a friend, a family, just told them that they’re losing motivation to live. How could they possibly know what to say, think or feel?

The realization eventually settles in, some slower than others.

And the reactions are mixed. Anger, sadness, confusion, panic, regret, and most of all, pain.

“Did something happen? What’s wrong? Why are you feeling this way?”

“Please don’t even think of doing what I think you’re going to do.”

“Why the hell are you giving up on living?!”

“You DESERVE to be alive though! You’re worthy of living, so why do you want to throw it away?”

“I don’t understand..why..why are you giving up on something of so much value?”

“Is something the matter? What’s the cause of you feeling this way?”

“Please don’t say things like that. It frightens me that you’re implying you’ll do something and I don’t think any of us can take that.”

“This better not be a joke because this is not funny at all. Please tell us what’s wrong.”

“You better take back those words, you understand? Your life is not something to casually toss away just because you don’t feel like it. What caused this?”

Each of them would talk to you throughout the day, before leaving you in peace. But they keep a close eye just in case.

And eventually, they all meet up with you again to talk, to make sure you remember that you have value, that you are worthy, and that they care for you, deeply.

“Don’t give up on yourself. Don’t give up on life. We are here for you, every step of the way. We will never abandon you, [Name]. So don’t give up!”

“Don’t Give Up.”

A/N : idk if y’all noticed but you notice their quotes and what each one have in common?- lol it’s right there above this— ^^

I hope you like this and I’m very sorry for the ending part, with the straw hats. I did leave a warning though.

requests are taking forever to doooo.

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plounce · 4 years

Photo

what if gay CATS........... were gay PERSONS

(info on this au under the cut)

theyre all shitty young adults just kind of. getting through their early 20s as best they can. or as much as they can. maybe things will get better someday, but right now they’re kind of spinning their wheels

magic exists but like eh it’s not a big thing don’t worry about it. it’s around but like whatever. not many people have it and it’s mostly just like. a curiosity or a party trick

demeter and bombularina are together, tugger and mistoffelees are together, bombularina and tugger occasionally fwb, it’s cool and aboveboard and it’s all fine

demeter:

bisexual with a preference for women. 24 years old

semi-psychic (not as powerful as tantomile or coricopat). tends to have vague and confusing prophetic dreams

dropped out of grad school for sociology due to trauma and ensuing intensified mental illness. kind of bitter about it, but tries to get through every day. general anxiety disorder even before all that

very nervous around most men she doesn’t know & trust

currently working at a barnes & noble starbucks, which sucks. she recently became the assistant manager, which turbo sucks because now she has more work for only like a buck raise, but at least she’s getting reliable shifts

her go-to therapy is cutting her hair with scissors. her hair is fried to all hell from regular bleaching

she’s learning how to crochet because she’s decided she needs to do something physically productively creative with her hands to distract herself from Stuff

bombalurina:

bisexual. 24 years old

got her bachelor’s in english two years ago and hasn’t found a job in her field and has kind of given up on it for now

she’s been bartending for like four years, does freelance editing work on the side. will occasionally write listicles for clickbait sites if she needs extra cash

literally any extra money she can save goes to tattoos. her right sleeve’s almost done

has natural red hair but dyes it cherry red

a hedonist to cope but is also just a natural hedonist. likes a good bath

i know that like the typical thing fandoms say about female characters is “doesn’t take shit” for the girlboss points but she truly does not take shit anymore. she used to take people’s shit sometimes but at this point in her life she’s tired and she has a girlfriend to be protective of. she has a couple people whose shit she will take (mostly just tugger) but besides them (and having to practice basic customer service to keep her job) she’s tired of other people’s shit! enough!

my personal take on bombalurina is a mix between the riot grrrls of the 90s and 80s punk girls, and then a dash of the greaser chicks from grease. i saw that spiked collar and my brain went OH okay i can run with this somewhere fun. same for demeter, but less so - she just has the piercings.

demelurina:

bombalurina met demeter in college at a women’s activism club, noticed her because of her dimple piercings and was like “oh someone else with a lot of metal in her face, i’ll sit next to her”

they were each other’s first off-campus roommates and were close friends. made out a couple times, but it was mostly a lot of sexual tension. there was a lot of bombalurina staring at demeter while she or demeter made out with someone else

demeter was on and off with her high school boyfriend munkustrap and bombalurina was like “oh he’s so much more stable/calm than me and she needs that, i party a bit too much for her, i shouldn’t try anything” so she just sort of. lets their almost-there peter off

(this is all bombalurina’s internal thoughts - demeter always was interested in her, but thought she was too boring for bombalurina. so neither of them thought they could pursue it)

bombalurina graduated and moved somewhere cheaper further away from campus. they kind of drift apart

munkustrap and demeter peter off and he moves away for a job (they’re still good friends, it was a very amicable breakup) and then demeter gets with macavity, which is a deeply toxic situation for her and sucks hugely and throws her whole life really off track. won’t go into further details

she finally manages to break up with him and calls bombalurina at like 2 am asking if she can pick her up, and also if she can sleep on her couch, it’s okay if that’s not okay, she just. really needs a place she feels safe, and her gut is telling her to. and of course bombalurina says yes

bombalurina also knew macavity and had also made out a couple times with him at like parties and stuff (see: staring at demeter as she makes out with people). something about transference of feelings - bombalurina was into him for a couple moments because he and demeter had a thing.

this is due to me interpreting the song “macavity” as actually about bombalurina wanting to fuck demeter and her singing as a half-repressed expression of that. i use my really good wlw brain to reach that conclusion. it’s kind of a non-competitive version of eve sedgwick’s take on the love triangle. (<-- normal thing to say)

but anyway demeter stays on bombalurina’s couch and she tries so hard to stay on track but eventually she just has to drop out. bombalurina helps her with that too. she’s just really supportive even as demeter’s life is at its lowest point. when she gets home from bartending she gets demeter to go to sleep

she just Stays with her and makes her smile and reminds her that her life isn’t over, there’s still things in her day to enjoy, to keep her trudging forward

bombalurina is roommates with tugger at this point - he also recently dropped out and demeter knows him because he’s munkustrap’s brother, so he’s Trusted and also is like “hey it’s okay that you dropped out, im here and im chilling and you like me and respect me at least a little, and you have a bachelor’s degree at least!” (more on him later)

demeter is like “oh god ive been crashing at their place for so long not paying rent, theyre gonna ask me to leave, im such a freeloader, they wont take my attempts at paying rent” but then bombalurina and tugger are like “hey! the lease is almost up! we found a pretty good 3 bedroom, do you wanna have your own room for real?” and she nearly cries because 1. the RELIEF 2. oh my god you want me around???

cut to bombalurina helping demeter put together an ikea dresser (tugger got banished to the kitchen to make crystal light lemonade for them because he’s useless with a screwdriver) and demeter has two epiphanies:

1. i thought i was ready to d*e four months ago and here i am making a dresser to put clothes into in my new apartment where i live and feel safe and loved. im still not happy but im still alive and im making a dresser

2. holy fuck im back in love with my best friend, and ten times more than i was back then.

so she like kind of freaks out because she’s already imposed so much on bombalurina, how could she impose her FEELINGS on her like this, oh no oh no oh no

meanwhile bombalurina’s back in love with her even MORE and she’s also like no... she’s already dealing with so much... i don’t want to make her uncomfortable or feel unsafe in her own home especially after her recent relationship trauma... i just want her to feel safe around me...

you might think tugger as their roommate would be like “JUST KISS” but he is in fact pretty oblivious because he is self-absorbed. mistoffelees on the other hand..

eventually they do have a big confession of feelings after demeter has a bad day and it’s very dramatic and they make out in the rain. and it’s like. well this is a movie scene. but also im cold and damp. let’s head inside our home and get warm and dry :)

and then they go inside and and talk through everything, all their feelings (not just their romantic feelings but like ALL their feelings) and their shared histories and bombalurina is like “do you think you’re... ready for a relationship right now? like that would be a good thing for you?”

and demeter considers it. she does stop and think. and then she says, “with anyone else... probably not. but it’s you. and i feel so safe around you, and we’re already so close. you make the future feel more worth it. you make more days alive feel not just tolerable, but something to look forward to. and knowing you’ve loved me all this time... it’s nice. it’s good. i’m - i’m understating it so much, it’s more than nice, it’s just - it’s a lot. i wish i had noticed back then.” “hey, hey, don’t blame yourself. i’m the one who never said anything.”

anyway. everything works out, and they start dating for real :)

tugger:

bisexual. 22 years old

dishwasher at the same bar bombalurina works at. she got him the job. he keeps bugging her to teach him bartending tricks and on slow nights she will agree to

he dropped out of their four year, but he managed to secure an associate’s in communications before he dipped

trying to be an ig influencer hotboy and hopefully get modeling jobs from that but his phone’s camera sucks shit so his account isn’t really going anywhere. but he continues to post his low resolution shirtless selfies

trying to cope with being the failure son who does not have a fancy nonprofit job with a salary and healthcare by being self-absorbed and self-aggrandizing

it works about 60% of the time and 60% of the times that it doesn’t he’s able to hide it

he dropped out right around when bombalurina graduated and he was like HEY! ARE YOU LOOKING FOR A ROOMMATE WHO DOESN’T CARE IF WE LIVE TEN MILES AWAY FROM CAMPUS? WELL HAVE I GOT A SOLUTION FOR YOU: ME!

to which bombalurina (who has fooled around with him here and there and thinks he is funny little man and genuinely goodhearted, and also he has rockin abs as a plus) says munkustrap already asked me if i need a roommate and if i do to consider you, because you don’t want to move back home. in other words: yes, you little idiot

they do fool around with each other but they are both very understanding that it is strictly platonic and for fun, especially once they become roommates. they both do not desire each other for anything serious

he did have a bit of a crush on each other when they met (hot punk older girl who’s friends with his brother) but 1. it dissipated pretty quick after they fooled around for the first time because it was not a very serious crush 2. she was in the middle of being in love with demeter so she was focused on that, emotionally

he got his ears pierced a couple times in high school but bombalurina inspired him to get a couple more. she went with him when he got his nose pierced

demeter has always understood that him and bombalurina are strictly fwb, has never been an issue.

she and him like to bleach their hair together when their hair schedules line up (he bleaches his way less often then she does), but she refuses to use his fancy conditioner that keeps his hair unfried because it’s expensive, even though he tells her to go ahead and use it, please, the health of her hair is giving HIM anxiety, demeter please. please demeter

mistoffelees:

gay. 20 years old

has magic. it’s pretty good magic but again: magic is not a big deal in this concept

a bit spooky. skulks around. a bit of a bitch but also very very nice. chooses when to speak

he has postings on craigslist and fiverr about finding lost objects and people with magic. like a gig economy private detective

side job is a waiter at a fancy restaurant

sometimes he gets paid VERY well from the private detecting, depending on the client. he does ask his psychic friends (tantomile & coricopat) to give a quick glance over on some of the more suspicious clients just to make sure he isn’t finding someone who should not be found by that person.

doesn’t go to college. is roommates with his sister victoria, who’s a freshman and studying dance. moved into town with her so she wouldn’t have to live in the dorms by having a guaranteed roommate.

tuggoffelees:

the general vibe i want for these two is mistoffelees walking around town or driving around in his shitty toyota camry while tugger tags along because he’s bored and thinks this is cool as shit

the general tone of the au is “magic isn’t a big deal” except for tugger, who thinks mistoffelees’ magic and his magic freelancing is the coolest shit ever. this is mostly because he just likes mistoffelees. “there are people who can do cooler shit than me, tug” “yeah but i don’t KNOW them also theyre not as COOL as you” “you had to explain to me how instagram reels work”

idk how they met i just think tugger shows up at his and bombalurina’s apartment one day (this is when demeter has moved in but they havent moved to the 3br yet) with this dude to dash in and pick something up and bombalurina is like “uh. who’s this” “oh this is mistoffelees he’s SO GOOD AT MAGIC” [mistoffelees nods hello] “okay bye bombalurina see you at work!!!” “uh. later”

after that he just shows up a lot. sort of ambiguous if theyre dating or what for a while before bombalurina straight up asks like “hey does the dude you’re dating know we fool around” “the dude im - what?” “... the little magic guy who keeps using our hot cocoa mix. misty.” “oh. uh. we aren’t dating.” “... do you want to? because you’re kind of all over him constantly” “um. well! haha, if i wanted to, i could! haha!” “yeah get back to me on that”

tugger trying to use his ig clout to get mistoffelees more work even though 1. he has no clout 2. mistoffelees has a very stable client base. but mistoffelees appreciates the effort. the self-promo guy promoing someone other than himself... the highest expression of love...

mistoffelees is A Nonthreatening Man plus he’s pretty obviously gay so demeter is chill around him pretty quickly. when mistoffelees is over they’ll sit on the couch where demeter sleeps and watch documentaries quietly while she crochets

they both occasionally say spooky shit at the same time because magic stuff. bombalurina and tugger are both torn between “that was cool as fuck” and “god that’s unnerving”

just a lot of tugger following mistoffelees around on his jobs and mistoffelees letting him because he’s fond of him and them occasionally getting into minor peril and interesting shenanigans, but it is 90% fetch quests

i think the first time they met tugger was taking selfies in front of a hydrangea in a public park and he saw mistoffelees walk up with a shovel and start digging in one of the flower beds and he thought he was hot so he went over and offered to take over on the shoveling to look strong and masculine and he ended up digging up a skull, which mistoffelees picked up and said “thanks” and then walked away

mildly terrifying but also very interesting and tugger’s days are kind of boring and dishwashing kind of sucks as a job to do like every night and he is a person who thrives on novelty so. moth to a porchlight

i think they do start making out for fun here and there and then a while later theyre out on one of mistoffelees’ jobs and someone asks “who’s the guy with you” and mistoffelees replies “oh that’s my boyfriend, don’t worry about him” and then it’s like. “HUH? I’M YOUR BOYFRIEND?” “uh. yeah? i assumed. is that okay?” “i mean yeah of course i think you’re great! how long have we–” “oh like a while.” “oh. uh. cool!!”

they just hang out a lot. mistoffelees enjoys teasing him and enjoys his warmth and bombasticity and tugger likes watching and helping him solve little mysteries around the county because it’s always something new. they’re kind of a comedy duo. they just enjoy spending their time together and following mistoffelee’s internal magic gps to find lost dogs and lost necklaces

yeah right now this au is just vibes and just sort of. continuing forward with your days and your weeks and your months. just young adults hanging out

#cats the musical #mr mistoffelees #rum tum tugger #demeter cats #bombalurina #tuggoffelees #demelurina #chirps #bird in the hand

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out-there-so-it-isnt-just-me · 3 years

Text

Hey guys...I have an idea if you aren't sad enough yet. I was struck by a painful comparison sort of crossover idea. It would never be canon, but I'm mourning the end of Campaign Two, and I want to be sad and over-dramatic. Essek, but as Eliza from Hamilton in “Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story.” But, it’s for the entire Mighty Nien. Some of the lyrics are so on point for a poor Essek who will probably outlive all of his friends (Elves still generally live longer than Firbolgs by a good 200 years). Anyway, enjoy.

Every other founding father's story gets told

It occurs to Essek, during one of the many periods without one of the Mighty Nein (the time that he dwells on them the most), how unfair their whole situation is. They saved all of Exandria, and no one knows. They are amazing, and odd, and frustrating, and no one knows. They will die loved deeply, but not widely. He knows they prefer it that way, all things considered. But, everyone else who saves all of Exandria becomes legends, while the people he loves best will be forgotten, remembered only by him.

And that. That sounds unbearable.

So, in-between the times he sees the Mighty Nein, he begins to gather accounts. He writes down stories from those they helped, or simply left an impression on. The people who have met the Mighty Nein have an air about them that he gets good at detecting. They attracted the oddballs and the outcasts. And if they're entirely normal (whatever that means), then they usually get a certain twitch if you ask for stories about interesting strangers. About half the time, a certain blue tiefling pops up in them. He almost has a heart attack when he hears “go fuck yourself,” in Jester’s cheerful voice, when he knows Jester isn’t anywhere near there. He ends up getting the kenku’s story, and the voices of his friends are weaved into it. Essek thinks the Mighty Nein are the best people in the world, in their own rambunctious way. Part of him wants the world to love them as he does, or at least have the option to. Everyone should have a chance to get to know them, even if it's just through tales. The world would be a better place for it.

...And when you're gone, who remembers your name?

Who keeps your flame?

Who tells your story?

Once there is only him and Caduceus left, this becomes a more prominent part of how he spends his time. After...after a long, long period of mourning. He has so much life left to live without most of the people who made it worth living.

I put myself back in the narrative

I stop wasting time on tears

I live another 50(0) years

He stops hiding his past and bears his sins and his story to the world. Essek tells his story so their story can be appreciated to the fullest; his part in their story emphasizes the depth of their compassion and chaos. He tells his story, but not as himself. Essek continues to drift from town to town under a vast number of aliases. Everywhere he goes, he spreads his stories of his friends, some serious, most silly. He disguises himself so he can stay alive to do a little more good, tell a few more stories, to truly live the life his friends wanted for him.

...I try to make sense of your thousands of pages of writings

You really do write like you're running out of time.

Eventually, he gets his hands on some of Beau’s journals, Jester’s diaries, and Caleb’s research. Well, he always had the research, but he gets to the point where he can share it with the world. He slowly begins to share and explain their thoughts and personalities with excerpts from those. Maybe he also has letters that he shares parts of (though most of those, those words specifically for him, he keeps to himself, for himself). He wonders if they'd be angry at him for spilling their private thoughts. But neither Beau nor Jester filtered their thoughts very much in the first place, and he keeps anything truly painful out of the public eye. Caleb, well, Caleb was always about sharing his knowledge and research, provided it wasn't dangerous. And they were all dead anyway. One of the last things they told him was to be happy. And talking about his friends, learning more about his friends even after they were long dead, that made him the happiest he'd been in a while. So he hoped they wouldn’t begrudge him this small joy he’d managed to grasp and forgive him, should it be necessary.

I rely on Angelica

While she's alive, we tell your story

She is buried in Trinity Church near you

When I needed her most, she was right on time

Caduceus isn’t particularly interested in being well known or famous, but he never shies away from telling a story about any of his friends. Plus, he thinks it’s a good project for Essek. It's a way to continue to show his love for them and keep them alive in the only way they can be now. When Caduceus eventually passes away, he joins the eight other graves (Veth refused to be buried apart from Yeza) that lay in a tucked-away corner of the Blooming Grove. There is one space left, nestled between where Caleb and Jester lay, but it will be empty for a long time yet.

And I'm still not through

I ask myself, what would you do if you had more time...

...You could have done so much more if you only had time

And when my time is up, have I done enough?

Will they tell your story?

He keeps adding to his tale; he stretches it longer and longer with every shred he can remember. But, even his memory, as long as it is, runs out eventually. And their story finally ends, but he doesn't. He throws himself into activities that remind him of them. He does a lot of gardening ( mostly tea, poisonous plants, and flowers). He teaches children some rudimentary dunamancy in his spare time, for Caleb. He messes around with alchemy a little. Eventually, he publishes the last of the research that he and Caleb worked on together; ones that took him decades to solve by himself. He even finds himself drawing a surprising amount of dicks on random surfaces near the very end.

Oh, can I show you what I'm proudest of?

...I help to raise hundreds of children

I get to see them growing up

The time that doesn’t go towards his now worrying amount of hobbies, he spends doing what he has done since the beginning: caring for the Mighty Nien’s true legacy. He looks after and visits their children. He takes care of descendants of Luc, of Jester and Fjord, of the random teenager that Beau and Yasha seemed to adopt completely on accident, of TJ, of the Clays, and of a lovechild of Kingsley’s that found out who his father was and then somehow found Essek himself to learn about him. In an embarrassing show of sentimentality, Essek always keeps at least one offspring of Caleb's very first cat. There is a very funny story about Caleb thinking the animal was spayed when it was, in fact, not. He visits the different generations every couple of years or so (he has a schedule). The drow makes sure they know the stories of their ancestors, the adventures of the Mighty Nien; he tells them it's all real. He gives them ways to contact him if they’re in danger, or need any kind of help really ( he has funds to spare at this point). Every once in a while, a few of them will get it in their heads to write him yearly updates. It’s nice.

In their eyes, I see you, Alexander

I see you every time

And when my time is up

Have I done enough?

Will they tell your story?

It is strange and painful to see the attitude and mannerisms of the Nein in the descendants who have never met them. It is wonderful too. His stories of the Mighty Nein have become well-known tales that no one can decide how much is truth and how much is fiction (it’s true, it’s all somehow, hilariously true). He preserved them in his own way, in the right way (time travel is something he thinks of with a growing hunger the more years pass between when he last laid eyes on his friends). But in these men, these women, these children, they are truly alive.

One little half-orc girl has Jester’s mischievous eyes and infectious joy. Another halfling man squints just like Veth when she's trying to figure out if someone is bullshitting her. There’s a boy who charmingly bumbles his way through most social encounters, as Fjord did. A firbolg woman who has Caduceus gentle smile. A tiefling girl with all the audacious bravado of Kingsley. A man with eyes just as piercing as Beau’s, and a tongue just as sharp. Even Yasha’s kind and gentle demeanor somehow shines through in one small boy, despite her having no direct descendants. He gets to see these flashes of his friends in those who survive them, and it thrills him as much as it cuts him. (Sometimes, when the current cat has ruined some item of his, the pleased look it wears resembles the quiet glee Caleb exuded after he pulled a successful prank, but he’s pretty sure that’s just fanciful thinking.)

One of the last things Essek does before he dies is fully publish, in print, the entire tale of the Mighty Nein. How they came together, every person they helped along the way. The love, the loss, the kindness, the chaos, every moment he could recall or record was put into this one account (necessarily stretched out into several separate books). There is only one set, and he hands it over to the Library of the Cobalt Soul in Rexxentrum. Then he goes on his lonely way.

Oh, I can't wait to see you again

It's only a matter of time

There are now ten graves, each one as unique as its owner, nestled in a small corner of the Blooming Grove. One grave has the dirt still fresh around it. And somewhere, beyond the Divine Gate, there are cheers and laughs and cries of joy as the Mighty Nien become the Mighty Nine once more.

fin.

It’s my head-canon that by the time Essek dies he’s practically a mythical figure among the select families he looks after. It's to the point that in certain locations ( that have a lot of Nein remnants) he becomes a local legend, the guardian angel of nien (no spelling specified and with no real distinction of what that means), with skin like the night sky who drifts (literally) through towns and helps those who meet a certain requirement, unknown to the general populus. There are rumors that certain people have bestowed upon them a token they could use to call upon the angel’s aid. Of course, the people who have the tokens (sending stones or something similar. IDK how he would get that many wondrous items, but I focus on satisfying narrative not, like, plausibility) know Essek and know that he has died and that the tokens no longer work, but for a while they keep them as heirlooms, to show the love of one drow wizard for the friends he had long, long ago. Eventually, one of Veth’s descendants sells off their set because sending stones are worth A LOT, and the money seemed more practical. They have their stories; those are enough.

And before anyone complains about the Kingsley bit, I felt compelled to add a smidgen of Kingsley content because Essek loves Jester and Jester’s with Fjord and Kingsley is with both of them for years. I’m sure they get to know each other well enough that seeing traits of Kingsley is vaguely nostalgic and warming, even if it lacks the depth and love he feels for everyone else. Also, there’s no convincing me that Molly/Kingsley doesn’t have at least one illegitimate child running around from various trysts, he was basically the Scanlan of this campaign. It goes with the hedonistic vibe he gives off.

Also, is it normal that I completely designed the Nein’s burial site in my head because I did? Like I imagine they’re all spaced out in a circle. It’s almost like a stone gazebo but there’s not really a roof; it’s just a group of nine pillars that support a stone circle. The entrance is the Traveler’s door with dicks around the edge, and each of the nine pillars/supports is designed to look the knowing mistresses staff. The stone circle is covered in carvings of storm clouds and lightning. Wires are strung across the center of the stone circle to form the symbol of the Cobalt Soul. Not that you can see the wires, because vines have been grown all around them. Once you step through the Traveler’s gate, you’ll find yourself on some kind of rough mosaic floor, with depictions of a peacock, a pyramid, a snake, a sun, a moon, and (oddly) a pirate ship. The mosaic is made up of buttons of various materials and shapes. In the center is a saltwater pool/spring (depending on how magical we can get idk) and floating above it is an eternal flame encased in some sort of dunamancy magic that doesn’t actually exist that keeps it floating and eternal. Look I'm running out of ideas.

I can’t imagine what everyone’s grave marker would be, but I’m pretty sure Yasha’s is a simple stone that says "YASHA NYDOORIN: wife of Zuella and Beauregard Lionette," and the place where’s she’s buried is just covered in wildflowers that spread outside of the gazebo to encircle the structure entirely up to the gate. Also, everyone has a stone tarot card by their grave with the picture and designation that Molly gave them. Beyond that grows a weirdly dense thicket of trees and bushes that make finding the Nein's resting place rather hard. It’s said only the descendants of the Nein’s family or those favored by the Wildmother (or Traveler, Or Ioun, or Storm Lord) can find their way to them. And one tree, directly behind Yasha, is dead, struck by lightning who knows how long ago.

And they’re buried in this order: Yeza/Veth, Caleb, Essek, Jester, Ford, Kingsley, Yasha, Beau, Cad. I know there’s a good chance that a) Kingsley would just eff off and die somewhere unknown and b) Cad would probably want to be buried with the rest of his family, but shhh let me dream.

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nightshade-minho · 5 years

Text

-Free Rent Part 1-

Stray Kids + fem!reader

Warnings: None in this part, except for shirtless Jisung I guess, and very slight suggestiveness. Eventual smut.

You wish you hadn’t agreed to this. What were you thinking? You could feel eight pairs of eyes on you, and you couldn’t help but feel utterly helpless under their gaze. You knew you had no reason to be afraid- everything had been discussed in detail and a safe word had been decided upon. However, you couldn’t stop your heart from thudding loudly, butterflies in your stomach.

It had all started a week ago, when your best friend Mina had told you about how ‘Chan and his gang of misfits’ were looking for a female roommate to live with them at their apartment. You were curious at first, prompting Mina to tell you more about this peculiar requirement.

“I don’t really know much about it y/n. All I know is that there’s a lot of candidates applying for the position already.”

You gasped. “Why? I mean...doesn’t this whole thing sound extremely sketch?”

“I mean, it’s clear what their intentions are, I suppose. But here’s the catch- you wouldn’t have to pay rent.”

You almost spat out your drink at that. No rent!? It sounded too far-fetched. From what you knew of the boys, they were quite well-off and lived in a huge, fancy apartment off campus. You, meanwhile, had been languishing in the dormitory with a despicable roommate- one who liked having her boyfriend over all the time, making the already tiny room feel cramped as fuck. She also had a penchant for leaving her dirty clothes all over the place- laundry was probably a foreign concept to her. You’d been wanting to move out since forever, and had already tried looking up some apartment listings since the dorms were full...however most of them were too expensive for you to afford.

As you bid farewell to Mina, making your way back to your dorm, there was this tiny part of your brain that was considering their weird proposal. It was clear what their intentions were...and you didn’t know how you felt about being a fucktoy for 8 people- it sounded demeaning and kind of scary, to be honest.

You finally reached your dorm, and was about to unlock the door when you heard moans coming from inside the room. Your head was boiling with anger, why did this always have to happen to you? You were extremely drowsy and just wanted to get to sleep already, but that was clearly going to be impossible.

Maybe...maybe you should check this new place situation out? Besides, you kind of knew Chan and Minho. The three of you had mutual friends and you’d been partnered up with Minho for a project once. They were genuinely cool, funny guys...and very attractive too.

You decided to go to their apartment, and if it was a really good one, you might consider it. Ugh...you couldn’t believe that you were even contemplating this right now.

And that’s how you ended up standing outside their apartment door at 8 in the evening, wringing your fingers nervously. You’d spoken with Chan on the phone earlier, and he’d recognized you almost immediately. He’d been very courteous and kind. You would think he was just a regular old landlord...if it weren’t for the end of the phone call.

“And...y/n? I hope you know what the payment consists of?”

“Oh? I thought it was free-“

He cleared his throat. “I mean...it doesn’t cost any money. We would prefer to be paid in another manner.”

“Ah. Um, yes...I’m aware.”

“Good. And remember, you can back out any time you want okay? If you’re completely okay with it, you can come.”

You suddenly regretted your choice of wearing a skirt today. Sighing, you silently gave yourself a pep talk. Breathing in deeply, you rung the doorbell.

“Coming!”

The door swung open, and you were met face to face with a shirtless blond haired dude, who stared at you wide-eyed.

“I’m sorry, but if you’re someone I fucked and never called back, I can’t go on a date with you. I apologize for-“

He was suddenly pushed to the side by Minho, who smiled at you warmly.

“Sorry about Jisung. You’re y/n, right? And you’re here for the apartment?”

“Mmhmm!”

He cocked his head to the side. “Didn’t we work on a project together last year?”

You nodded, trying to smile but ultimately failing. Your nerves were all over the place, and you were focusing on not running away right then and there.

There was an awkward silence as the two men stared at you and you stared back. You could see that they were analyzing you subtly, and your heartbeat grew faster.

Jisung yawned. “So...is she gonna come in or...?”

Minho silenced him with a sharp look, and then softened as his gaze turned back to you. “Would you like to come in, y/n?”

You paused, nodding again.

Suddenly, a slightly dark look flashed in Minho’s eyes.

“Use your words, sweetheart. You’ll find it a necessity if you want to live here.”

You gulped. “Uh. Okay. Is Ch-chan here?”

Minho nodded. “He’s in the shower right now. But I’ll show you around the house for now!” He beckoned you in, and you followed him as he walked into the apartment. Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head as you looked around. The hallway was fairly short, but then as you walked further in, you softly gasped as your eyes took in the huge living room. There was the biggest TV you’d ever seen, and right in front of it was a sofa that was so wide it looked more like a bed.

Seated on the sofa were two guys that you recognized from previous classes that you’ve had. Both of them noticed you, however one of them spared you nothing more than a glance, immediately looking back at the television. The other quirked a brow in interest, and made his way over to you and Minho. If you were right, his name was Hyunjin. He was very handsome, you noted.

“Minho, you never told me you went and got yourself a girlfriend!

Minho cleared his throat. “Hyunjin, she’s here for the house.”

Hyunjin’s eyebrows shot up, and a smirk grew on his face.

“Great. Cause I was thinking, it isn’t fair that you get such a pretty girl all to yourself.”

Your face grew red. Hyunjin smiled at you, grabbing your hand and pulling you along.

“So, this place has 5 bedrooms. Two master bedrooms, and the rest are normal. The master bedrooms are occupied by Minho and Chan, because ‘they’re the oldest’ or some shit.”

Minho groaned. “That’s not the reason, y/n, it’s because we started living here first, and the others came here later. Also, I’m willing to move in with Chan so you can have a bedroom all to yourself, so it’s not gonna be a problem.”

You meekly nodded. Minho raised an eyebrow, and you remember his statement from earlier with a blush.

“I’m not completely sure I want to move in yet, though.”

A disappointed look crossed both faces, and you quickly stated “Um, I said yet.”

They quickly regained their smiles, and you wanted to chuckle to yourself. The two of them were kinda cute.

“Alright so three of the rooms are downstairs. The two master bedrooms are upstairs, so if you were to move in, you’d be living there.” Minho resumed.

Hyunjin cut in, “There’s also a bathroom downstairs, and an open kitchen, as you can see.” Minho looked at him with an annoyed expression and you almost giggled.

“Chan!”

You turned around to see Chan himself descending the stairs with a smile on his face.

“Hey guys! And hello, y/n! Sorry I couldn’t be here earlier, I was in the shower.”

His hair was wet, and his white shirt was insistently sticking to his pecs. You felt slightly flustered.

“So, would you like to see the upstairs? I’ll take it from here, thanks Minho.”

He beckoned you to follow him. Chan showed you the second floor of the apartment, which was every bit as amazing as the bottom floor. You were trying to resist it, but you couldn’t. Your brain was rapidly falling in love with this house.”

As you made your way back downstairs, you saw four of the boys from before- Hyunjin, Minho, Jisung and...Seungmin? Yes, that was his name. Along with those four, there were two more who were in the kitchen, whose names you didn’t know very well. You knew one of them was from Australia, just like Chan, but not much else. The other’s name was...Changmin or something.

As you reached the bottom of the stairs, Chan spoke up. “So...are you interested in this place?”

You were extremely conflicted. You were no virgin, but you still felt this situation was entirely unorthodox and your mom back home would probably murder you in shame. However none of these boys seemed like bad people, and you were already familiar with a few of them. Your logic was telling you to get out of there and forget you ever came, but then there was this very very tiny part of you that not only wanted the house, but the sex too. Even though you’ve had sex a few times, you were often called a prude, and you weren’t very popular. And...these boys were the kings of the college. Being their friend would be an automatic ticket to ruling campus.

Your brain told you you were being an idiot and not thinking this through, but it was too late.

“Yes.” You blurted, and Chan’s grin grew wider.

Fuck, what had you done?

•••

(There will be smut in Part 2...which will probably be out by tomorrow. Happy SKZ anniversary!)

#bang chan smut #chan smut #chris bang smut #felix angst #felix smut #hyunjin angst #hyunjin smut #minho smut #stray kids smut #skz smut

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redhoodssweetheart · 3 years

Text

By the Sea Part Seven

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Mermaid!Reader

Requested: No (Requests are closed except for a few, see pinned post for details. I also no longer do taglists)

Word Count: 2.2K

Warnings: Angst, fluff, drunk Bucky

Description: Y/N is a mermaid that longs for the land. Her friend Natasha tells her that she knows a human who will take care of her and leads her there, she only has one rule: do not under any circumstances fall in love with a human. But Steve’s friend Bucky is drawing her in, in ways she hadn’t expected. Will Y/N be able to return to the ocean once her stay in the human realm is complete? And what happens when Natasha learns that Y/N is betrothed to be married to their king’s son? Will she drag her friend back or keep her hidden amongst the humans?

“I’m opening my own flower shop!” Y/N told Natasha excitedly as she sat on a rock admiring the night sky. “Steve is going to help me get some flowers together, and there’s a free space in the town where I can open it. Steve thinks that it will do very well since we don’t have another flower shop here.”

Natasha smiled, she was happy to see how excited Y/N was over this. “So you finally figured out what you wanted to do with your life here, huh?”

Y/N nodded and looked away from the sky to meet her friend’s gaze, “I did. It’s all thanks to Bucky too. He was the one that gave me the idea. We were in his studio and I asked him how he knew he wanted to be a painter. He told me that it was a part of him, a part of his soul. He asked me what I liked to do and I always did enjoy watching the flowers grow on the island. From there he came up with the idea.”

Natasha took one of Y/N hands in hers, “Y/N, tell me truthfully. Do you have feelings for Bucky?”

Y/N blinked, surprised by Natasha’s question. “We’re friends if that’s what you mean.”

Natasha shook her head, “Y/N, are you falling in love with him?”

Y/N was taken aback by her friend’s question, “You made me promise that I wouldn’t, and I haven’t!”

Natasha sighed, “I know I made you promise not to fall in love, but sometimes love sneaks up on you and takes you by surprise. I know you know why I made you promise not to, but.... I think I was wrong.” Y/N was shocked to hear her friend say this, she hadn’t been expecting it. “Bucky isn’t like the man that betrayed my trust and broke my heart, he’s different. He’s one of Steve’s closest friends and he seems kind-hearted.”

“What are you trying to say, Natasha?” Y/N asked in confusion.

“I’m saying that if you’re falling in love with Bucky, I’d be okay with you breaking your promise to me. And now that I know you want to stay it’s unfair of me to ask you not to fall in love. You’re trying to build a life here and if you wish to marry and fall in love with someone then you have every right to do so. Don’t let my promise stop you from having something great.”

Y/N was quiet for a moment, “I don’t know if I’m falling in love with Bucky, but I know I care about him deeply. And I know that I love spending time with him. I can’t imagine not having him in my life.”

Natasha smiled and squeezed Y/N’s hand, “Do you feel this fluttery feeling in your stomach whenever he’s around? Whenever he smiles at you?” Y/N nodded. “Do you find yourself constantly thinking about him or wondering if he’s okay?” Y/N nodded again. “Then I think you’re falling in love with him.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, “Do you think he knows?!” Natasha laughed at her friend’s panicked look. “This isn’t funny!” Y/N cried indigently.

Natasha was still giggling, “No, you’re right, I’m sorry. It’s just… I remember these days and Steve went through the same thing with me. Don’t worry about it, Y/N. Men can sometimes be oblivious to our feelings for them. And if he has noticed then it’s not the end of the world. Just let things unfold naturally.”

Y/N chewed on her lip before saying, “Natasha, if he loves me back I’ll have to tell him the truth about what I am won’t I?”

Natasha paused, she hadn’t thought about that. Y/N had a point though. If she were to truly be with Bucky then she would have to tell him the truth. “I think that would be best. You can’t keep something like this from him. You disappear at night to come here to transform, he would get suspicious. Steve can help you tell him if the time ever comes, until that day arrives just try to live in the moment.”

As Y/N walked up the beach that night to get back to Steve’s she thought over her conversation with Natasha about how she was slowly starting to fall in love with Bucky. She didn’t know how it had happened, but she could see it. The two of them had been spending more time with one another since they had first met and he had taken her to the lookout point.

He was sweet and she loved his smile and how he always seemed to paint her. How he didn’t mind her endless questions about art and how she always invaded his studio. He never grew impatient with her or threw her out. In fact, it seemed as if he wanted to spend more and more time with her. Some days he would show up at Steve’s to have breakfast with her.

Steve had watched their budding romance quietly, he knew Natasha might not like it, but he couldn’t bear the thought of tearing the two of them apart. Especially since both of them seemed so happy in one another's company. Even the others had noticed how close they had grown to one another. Steve had even teased Bucky about hearing wedding bells in his future.

Bucky was still in his studio surrounded by the paintings he had done of Y/N in the past few weeks. She was slowly becoming his muse and he loved it when she would smile at him, her whole face seeming to light up. There was something special about her, something that drew him to her.

He knew he was falling in love with her, but he wasn’t sure if she was falling for him as well. He was a little scared to ask her for fear of making things awkward. Clint said that he was being ridiculous and needed to tell Y/N the truth.

Bucky was putting away a new painting of his when the door to his studio opened and Sam entered carrying a bottle of wine. “Come out with us, Bucky,” he began. “You’ve been spending all your time here working on your paintings of Y/N that you haven’t spent much time with us in a while.”

Bucky sighed, “They’re not all of Y/N, you make me sound like a creep.”

Sam rolled his eyes, “Whatever, just come out with us. Steve is joining us and it’s going to be a regular old party.”

Bucky sighed, he knew that Sam wasn’t going to take no for an answer, “All right, I’ll come, but I’m not staying out too late. I’ve got a busy day tomorrow. I’m supposed to help Y/N start setting up her shop.”

Sam waved a hand dismissively, “It’ll be fine. Now come one, we’re supposed to meet the others at Isiah’s bar.”

The two of them hurried toward the bar where the others had already started the party. Mugs of beer were passed around and some shots of whiskey were downed. Bucky knew right then and there that he was going to be sorely regretting his choice to come out in the morning.

The others cheered when they saw that Sam had managed to coax Bucky out of his studio and ordered a beer for their friend. As the night passed on more drinks were shared. Finally, Bucky stood, swaying slightly on his feet, “I’m gonna go.” His words were slurred and he rested his hands on the table to keep from falling over. “Enjoy the rest of your evening, boys.”

They cheered as Bucky stumbled away from their table and out the door of the bar. At first, he wasn’t sure where he was going, and then he decided he wanted to see Y/N. He set down the path toward Steve’s home, his mind fuzzy as he walked. He had to tell her that he loved her. Yeah, she had to know how he felt about her.

When he reached Steve’s house he rounded the side toward where the water was. Steve would have given her a room with a view of the ocean beyond. The house was dark and he pouted, was she already asleep? How late was it?

He was just about to shout her name when he heard, “Bucky?” He turned and saw her coming up behind him, a worried look on her face, “Is something wrong?”

He grinned at her, “Y/N!” She knew instantly that something was wrong. “I came to see you.”

As she got closer she could smell the alcohol on his breath, “Are you drunk?”

He waved a hand, “Pssh, no! I’m not drunk, I just had a few drinks with the boys this evening, that's all.”

She shook her head, leave it to the others to intoxicate him and then leave him alone to find his way home. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”

She took him inside and began helping him up the stairs, “Y/N, I have something I want to tell you.”

She hummed, “Can it wait until I get you into a bed first?”

They were on the second floor now and he tugged her to a stop, “No! It can’t wait, this is important.” Y/N looked up at him, she watched as he swayed and looked down mumbling something to himself. He took in a deep breath and then looked back at her, “Y/N, I love you.” Y/N paused and took a step back, Bucky frowned. “I knew it, you don’t love me back. I told the others that there was no way, you only saw me as a friend.” He sunk down to the floor, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting like a child.

Y/N came too from the shock and knelt down in front of him, he wouldn’t look at her, and she wanted to chuckle at how cute he looked when he pouted. “Bucky, look at me.” He shook his head. “Please?” He huffed and met her gaze. “I love you too,” that got him to smile, his wide goofy smile. “But tomorrow when you wake up I want you to tell me again, okay? I want to hear it when you’re not intoxicated.”

He nodded his head enthusiastically, “I will!” She helped him to his feet and into one of the guest rooms, he was even more clingy now and he kept telling her what he loved about her. “I love your eyes, your hair, how smart you are, how you get flustered whenever I ask you to pose for me.”

She covered him up and kissed his forehead, “Get some rest, Bucky. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Y/N?” She paused and turned back to him. “Stay with me?”

She smiled, “Get some rest, Bucky. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He pouted again, but slid under the covers and promptly passed out. Y/N stood in the doorway for a bit to make sure that he was going to be okay before getting into her own bed and trying to go to sleep herself.

In the morning when Bucky woke up he had a massive headache and he didn’t recognize where he was. It took a moment for him to realize that he was in one of Steve’s guest rooms. He hadn’t been awake long before Y/N entered the room carrying a tray with food and some tea. She had just taken care of Steve and informed him that the younger man was here as well. Steve had told her what to bring him to help with his hangover.

“Morning,” she smiled shyly at him, wondering if he remembered their conversation. Steve had explained to her that sometimes people couldn’t remember things from when they were drunk. She wondered if that would be Bucky’s case. “I brought some tea and breakfast.”

Bucky groaned and rubbed his throbbing head, “Please tell me I didn’t do anything embarrassing last night.”

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” she teased, which made him want to crawl back under the covers and die.

“What did I say?” He had to know if he had said anything inappropriate.

Her face fell a little and it didn’t go unnoticed by Bucky, “Nothing important. Eat your breakfast while I run a warm bath for you.”

He wanted to stop her to ask her what he had said, but she disappeared into the bathroom before he could do that. He ate quickly and then entered the bathroom where Y/N was checking the water temperature with her hand. “Y/N?” She looked up at him from her spot on the floor. “What did I say?”

She forced a smile, “Nothing important like I said. Don’t worry, most of it was just drunken gibberish.”

He stopped her as she went to leave, “I don’t believe you and I hate the thought that I did or said something to upset you. I can see it in your eyes.”

“Don’t worry Bucky, it wasn’t anything inappropriate or malicious. Just let it go.” She quickly made her escape, leaving Bucky alone in the bathroom.

#Bucky Barnes x Reader #Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader #Bucky Barnes x Mermaid!Reader #Bucky Barnes x Reader fluff #Bucky Barnes x Reader angst #Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes fluff #Bucky Barnes angst

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missinghan · 4 years

Text

countless skies upon me ⤖ lee minho

❖ genre : fantasy; action; fluff; angst

❖ word count : 16,5k.

❖ warnings : explicit language, mentions of blood + violence

❖ summary : when you stumble upon the notoriously skilled swordsman of Kalmburg, your heart finds itself wanting to get closer to his.

❖ a/n : this is the full extension of this blurb that I wrote impulsively after rewatching an old anime, please give swordsman minho a whole lot of love 🖤

prologue.

Minho’s wooden sword gets knocked out of his grasp, landing onto the floor with a loud series of clattering noises. The little boy widens his eyes when the tip of another wooden sword hovers over his stomach and he looks up to be met with the stoic gaze of his mentor.

“What did I tell you yesterday, Minho?”

“That I need to make more progress on improving my reaction time,” he answers grimly and rubs his forearm, head hanging low in shame. “I need to know the timing of the enemy like the back of my hand and use my own timing in which they don’t expect.”

His mentor retreats his sword swiftly, humming, “You got distracted, you weren’t observing my stance before I lunged at you. By narrating the enemy’s preparation, you can partially map out their movements, when and where they’re aiming for. That’s why you were taken aback and this allowed me to disarm you with little effort.”

“But master!” Minho pries stubbornly. “It’s not very fair if an opponent can’t fight with their sword, is it? A sword is supposed to be the coil of a swordsman’s strength. It’s all we’ll ever have.”

A fatherly smile dances on his mentor’s lips this time. “Strength is simply an illusion, there are far more important things,” he places a warm hand on Minho’s shoulder, speaking softly.

“And it doesn’t matter if you still have your sword or not, fighting isn’t an obligation, it’s a choice. A choice whether you’re going to fight until the very end or not.”

one.

Market stalls crowd the route, selling sacks of nuts and dried fruit, grilled meat hanging on lines after lines of roasting skewers. Powdered spices lay in rust red and dusty yellow and bright green piles spill from sacks as large as feed bags. Mixed and familiar scents cut through thin air, people bumping into each other, toes trodden on. Lovers stroll hand in hand, casually browsing whilst housewives hustle and bustle, hollering over background noises for the best price.

Minho ends up walking through the entire market before getting to work that day with an apple in his stomach, silently like a phantom, blending into the sea of people effortlessly.

To him, work is just like another day in the market for stallholders, another pile of weapons needed to be honed and repaired for blacksmiths and another batch of bread to bake early in the morning for bakers.

Except his job is somewhat… questionable and considerably dangerous for a guy who looks nothing like a warrior. At least that’s what he’s been told. Rather pretty-looking eyes being hidden under his long fringe, a high and slim nose bridge, sharp philtrum. He’s not that tall either and doesn’t necessarily have as many muscles as he initially wanted. But the swordsman doesn’t listen to his muscles to fight, he listens to his mind and becomes one with his blade.

There’s no need for a shield or armor, for he thinks they’re doing nothing but getting in his way and slowing him down during combats. Minho draws his sword with no more qualms than a middle-aged lady gossiping about her irritating neighbors and slashes his enemies while thinking about what he’ll be making himself for dinner that day. There’s no joy for him in violence, but he takes extreme pride in a good clean kill. He has a reputation to maintain and that reputation keeps him safe in this world.

A man approaches Minho from behind, leaning himself flat against the wooden bench that the swordsman has situated himself on for the past hour. The guy never makes the first move, that’s what he’s been told.

“Twenty thousand units,” the masked client speaks up, his voice mellow and slightly muffled. “If you can bring back the head of a shadow wolf that’s been lurking around the Dunst forest these days, I’ll double the price. Silver-white fur, brown eyes. Make it quick too, and you can have sixty in total. He’s been eating up one too many of our sheeps already.”

His lips twitch subtly and he crosses his legs, keeping his tone low but clear, “Shadow wolves can’t handle the cold that well, why would one roam around a place with such tremendous decrease in temperature at night?” The sound of coins crashing against each other in the leather pouch suddenly irritates him.

“C’mon, Black Swordsman, how would I know these things? I’m just merely a guy who’s trying to get by in life,” the man chuckles lightheartedly but Minho isn’t finding anything funny. No one ever gets the upper hands in a deal with him. “Look, I heard you’re good at your job and you sure look like you know what you’re doing so why don’t you just take the mon—“

Minho stuffs his hands into his pocket and sighs, “Don’t think so lowly of me, I don’t accept deposits. I’ll only get my money once I’m done with the job. Meet me here tomorrow at noon, sharp. And if I don’t show up, consider locking your sheeps inside.” And with a grin through his flat lips under the mask, the cryptic client leaves Minho alone by the bench, fully satisfied with his attitude and reactions.

The brunet gazes at the space ahead for a good ten seconds, thinking rather deeply about this before waving his hand absentmindedly, calling out to the errand boy who’s been hiding behind the ugly tree. “You can come out now, Jeongin. Did you catch any of that?” he asks without turning around.

“Every single word,” Jeongin cancels the spell that’s been his cover during their entire conversation before stepping out, pursing his lips together. “A guy who’s trying to get by in life but still has twenty thousand to pay you beforehand? Sounds absurd to me.”

“Enough with the brainless chatters, you know what to do,” Minho pushes himself off the bench when his muscles start growing sore on the hardened surface. “If you do a good job, I’ll treat you out for dinner. Now run along, Chaeryeong is probably looking for you, don’t be late to class.”

Jeongin holds him back by the sheath of his sword, “You’re still going to accept the job? I don’t think it’s worth the risk. He’s obviously setting you up.”

“If anything, I might bring his head back instead of the wolf’s,” Minho replies monotonously, and Jeongin lets his hand fall to his side. The swordsman turns on his heels to see concern laced in the younger boy’s eyes, this prompts his voice to soften. “Don’t worry, a single wolf can’t hurt me,” he ruffles his hair before slipping into the crowd again, making his way towards the mountains to enter the Dunst forest.

He wouldn’t mind dying alone, actually. It’s not like he has any regrets.

two.

The city of Kalmburg has it that no one has ever surpassed Lee Minho when it comes to the art of swordsmanship.

“If you’re going to take on a guy who can parry a crossbow bolt with his sword as he’s contending against five other men, it’s time to re-evaluate the direction of your life—preferably while running away as fast as you can.”

The man walks up to the center of the town square every single day at the crack of dawn, his figure fully covered in a big black cloak, the hood thrown lazily over his head. All you can see is the strides he takes with his black combat boots. He almost belongs, but not quite. Kalmburg is known for its dashingly ornamental architecture — a white granite surface with serene spires can be seen from the castle at the top of the hill, soothing atmosphere and generically nice residents. Some say no beauty can be compared to its sunrise due to the dashing sight of a lake situated before the town square’s gate.

Whereas, Lee Minho gives people a stark contrast with his dark aura and the black sword hung firmly on his back. He easily takes in everyone’s attention with a single sweep, his midnight orbs setting on nothing before he leaves as expressionless as he’s entered. His purposes and motives always remain hidden; hence the allure. Though it’s not hard to see how he’s making a good living on a daily basis.

For one, he slays monsters; and for another, he deals with people. Outsiders might be surprised at how many units the Nobles are more than willing to pay him as long as he comes back alive, with the beast’s head limp in his hands. There were times when he’d come back covered in a sea monster’s gastric juice, other times he could barely walk back to the town because his spleens got severely damaged. But most of the time, he’d return as though he just got back from a stroll, outstretching his palm to collect the payment.

Dealing with people is far more troublesome than those deadly creatures, Minho constantly tells himself so. It’s true, after all. Because when careless juveniles aren’t able to snatch their parents’ spare change on the dining table, they decide it’s a brilliant idea to challenge him for a duel. If they win, he’ll have to follow their request without receiving a single penny. But if things go the other way around, they will most likely come home crying for their mother. Such a nuisance.

Today is no different.

Moving into the morning dew is a shadow wolf. His paws kiss the earth not gracefully, but rather with evident difficulties and there’s a ray of exhaustion in that pair of bronzed eyes. The wolf has seen better days. His silver-white fur is thin and it clings to his frame like an old cloak in a gale. Even from several yards away, Minho can count each rib as they’re sticking out, he sees dejection in his movements as if he’s gonna let himself tumble to the ground any moment.

Minho carefully inhales, pulling out a silver dart from the back of his belt. He raises his hand and aims precisely for the pine tree, just a strand of hair away from the wolf’s ear. When he exhales, the weapon comes flying past the creature before embedding itself to the wooden surface.

The wolf whips his head towards the swordsman, locking eyes as he lets out a mere cry of pain, crimson dripping down on the side of his head. As Minho pulls his hood off of his face, slightly dubious that the creature of darkness will turn into a wisp of black smoke to take flight deeper into the forest, the wolf shakes his head before lying down on the soil, unable to coordinate his limbs. Then with his great grey head on his bloodied paws, he closes his eyes. He’s giving up on his life.

“Something’s wrong. Shadow wolves’ blood isn’t supposed to be red,” Minho holds his breath in utter disbelief, taking a step backward. He’s got the wrong target. No, that client scammed him.

A branch snaps.

Minho reaches for his sword when the sound of thin air being ripped apart rings inside his eardrums, two blades coming in contact with each other and he has to squint slightly when tiny sparks of flame come to life between the weapons. Instead of looking at the raider, he quickly deflects their slash again. Hypothetically speaking, there are two possibilities: the first is that both swords are too weak to withstand the pressure of the blow, so they’ll simply break - in the exact same fashion. The second is in which case both blades are durable enough to field the contact, they will bounce right back. But his unwanted guest seems to detest him so much to the point they keep their sword grinding against his until their weapons slip against each other, creating a wave of grating shriek resonating through the woods, dust being thrown in the air.

He stumbles backward, the sole of his shoes tearing the leaves below into bits. His vision shakes a little from the sudden attack before trying to focus on the figure before him. The first thing that he sees is the white wolf on the button of your silver-accent cloak. That’s the royal guards’ emblem.

“You,” the female voice catches him by surprise. “Lay another finger on that wolf now, I dare you.” You know all too well who this man is, and like hell you’re going to let him do what he wants just because of some cheap units.

Minho’s fully aware that his beating heart is thundering inside his chest, but he’s not sure if it’s because of the adrenaline flowing in his veins or those round eyes glaring at him from under the sunlight. He sees the grip on the hilt of your rapier being tightened and that’s when he regains his composure, taking in a deep breath. If he gave up now because of a pretty face with a deadly blade, he’d damn his reputation as a swordsman.

“Oh that wolf is all yours,” he smiles at you fakely, wiping the beads of sweat on his cheekbones away. “But you’re going to have to do better than snooping around on people.”

Minho steadies his grip on his sword, trying to keep himself together in the deafening silence, “So, who’s making the first move now?” The tonal mockery in his voice irks you and he seems to notice that too by the slight smirk tugging at his lips when the muscles on your face twitch.

One. Breathe in.

You’re getting into your stance sideways, your blade eye level. This man doesn’t know what he’s getting himself into.

Two. Breathe out.

Minho isn’t letting his guard down this time despite being slightly impressed with your skills. Usually, there aren’t many girls who take up sword fighting, at least not in his hometown so he thought you’d be sort of a novice. But your dexterity is beyond incredible, he can hardly see the tip of your sword.

Three. “I am.”

You charge first by swinging your rapier at him from above, Minho receiving the clash with the flat of his blade. He circles away from you, keeping his sword in motion while constantly changing his stances and attacks. Rapiers aren’t very suitable for slashing or slicing since the blade is so long and thin, it can only allow its owner more speed, more precise stabs and thrusts but greatly lowers their defense. So if he can just catch you off guard…

When the tip of your sword grazes just above his clothed ribs, Minho’s reflexes kick in and his blade knocks yours away almost immediately. With the bewildered look on your face as a signal, he dodges as you attempt another stab at his left ear. This causes you to trip on your heels, your balance quivering the moment his sword slashes at the button of your cloak rather than your neck. To prevent yourself from falling, you jump and do a backflip safely, breath’s fraying as the piece of clothing is completely ditched by a tree.

“You are strong, just like the rumors,” you breathe out a stoic comment, chest heaving up and down rapidly.

“You aren’t too bad yourself either,” Minho grins; he hasn’t felt this much eagerness to fight someone other than monsters before. In other words, he’s never faced someone who knows what they’re doing with a sword as skilled as you are.

You cock a brow at him, confused, “Why are you smiling?”

“I don’t know, actually,” he shakes his head and hearty waves of laughter bubble up inside his stomach. The brunet sheaths his sword with a loud ‘clunk’, walking towards you to place a warm hand on your shoulder. “But good fight, you really know how to hold a sword.”

“Wait… aren’t we going to finish this?”

Minho picks up your cloak from the ground, outstretching his palm, “You seem like a person who knows what it takes so I don’t think that’d be necessary anymore. But I’d be glad to take you on again?”

This man is baffling you, and not in a good way either. Nonetheless, you still slide your sword back into its sheath and accept his handshake. “So you’re gonna leave that wolf alone right?”

“Only if you tell me what happened to it,” Minho replies firmly, receiving a nod of approval from you. He actually seems like a solid person. Perhaps you can trust him.

“That’s my brother, Chan.”

three.

The forest hums with life all around you. You lift your head ever so slightly when the sunlight slips through the green leaves and branches, lighting up the dirt path ahead decorated with outgrown roots and wildflowers. You gaze up at the fluffs of clouds, searching for the birds that are singing sweetly. Minho trudges on before you a couple of steps, finding the natural fragrance of the current surroundings rather soothing. It’s making his eyes droopy.

“What happened to him again?”

He stretches his limbs tiredly and yawns like there’s no tomorrow, making you scrunch your nose in disapproval. He’s not even paying attention to you. It’s been at least an hour since you’ve mounted an unconscious Chan on your horse — Noir and accepted this cryptic stranger as your guide for now. You’ve never been to this forest more than once so it’s best if you follow him—an experienced individual in order to get your brother back safely.

You frown at him, giving the back of his neck a firm slap while your other hand is holding onto the rein. “Ow, what was that for?!” he yelps.

“You weren’t listening, were you?”

“Remotely,” he hums out a reply, “I didn’t sleep that well last night.” And that’s when you notice the dark spots under his eyes, the occasional tears whenever he squints his eyes under the sunlight. The job’s more draining and demanding than you thought.

To be fair, slaying monsters and getting your hands bloodied might not be the best thing to do to a degree of morality but you really can’t judge him when you’ve only known him for a few hours. Minho’s far younger than you’d expected too. You’ve had your strolls downtown from time to time with your fellow royal guards and it’s not hard for rumors to fly. People were gasping and bouncing on the balls of their feet talking about this mysterious swordsman who’s dressed completely in black, a single one-handed sword, no shield, and no armor. They really had you thinking he was an old man in his forties who has no regrets, just trying to get by in life no matter what it takes.

And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him charming the moment you saw that handsome face under the big cloak.

“He was recovering from a business trip so our mage decided to treat him with a special potion,” you nibble on your bottom lip, looking over at your worn out brother sideway in concern. You’ve wrapped his injuries up with some of the cloth that you’d packed before leaving this morning, he should be fine. “I guess something went wrong; hence, he’s magically turned into a wolf, panicked and bolted out of the castle. And you know how cruel people can be sometimes…”

“Oh, sorry about that,” Minho feels a big lump in his throat when you secretly toss a glare at his direction. “I should have known something was off the moment he started bleeding red.” He shakes his head, highly disappointed in himself for mistaking Chan as a shadow wolf. His professional etiquette forbids him ever repeat the same mistake.

You stop dead in your track, cocking your head at him in confusion, “What do you mean?”

Wait, no, something’s wrong. Something’s terribly wrong. It can’t be that simple. “You’re still going to accept the job? I don’t think it’s worth the risk. He’s obviously setting you up.” His steps come to a halt, only a few feet away from you and before you can even tap him out of it, Minho snaps his head back, grabbing you by the shoulders. “Tell me, when you first entered the forest, did you encounter any wolves? Even just one?”

“N-No, I don’t think so,” you stutter, slightly flustered at the sudden decrease in proximity. But you soon shake the heat on your cheekbones away when he lets go of you, pacing back and forth to think hard about something. “Uhh- what are you-”

“Shh shh..”

“Did you just shush me-” The wind whistles in your ears and you stumble backward when Minho draws his sword, the blade coming in contact with something hard and deflecting it successfully. Your jaw is locked at the sight of an arrow sticking to a tree not very far off. That could have been your head instead...He just saved your life.

“Someone’s coming, take cover.”

Minho carefully tugs your horse over to a nearby slope when you hop off the main pathway, waving him over to a big tree. You both get down on one knee as the sound of armors crashing against each other grows louder, dreadful footsteps becoming more detectable. Swiftly, Minho notices the color of your bright blue cloak can easily be detected right through the bush and clicks his tongue in annoyance. He unbuttons his black coat, silently draping it over your smaller figure. For a second there, you widen your eyes at him but soon ensconcing yourself obediently under the leather fabric.

Stepping into your vision are two familiar faces, Minho’s breath almost hitches in his throat when he realizes they’re clothed in the same blue and white uniform as yours. Both equally emitting the same hostility and mettle—as expected from the astute royal guards.

“Hyun-”

You stagger backward when Minho clasps a firm hand over your mouth, shaking his head while you’re giving him a ‘what are you doing?’ look. The moment you manage to peel yourself away from his grip, your fellow colleagues are nowhere to be seen. They must be looking for you since you left the castle this morning without a proper announcement. “What was that about?! They’re my friends, now if you’d excuse me-”

“They aren’t the most trust-worthy people right now,” he lets out a sigh. “Think about it. They’re parts of the few people who could possibly see Chan the day before he turned into a wolf. And I’m sure the royal mage wouldn’t have such a reason to spike the commander of the guards. I don’t see how it’d benefit her if Chan was to take a break from his position. On the other hand…”

Is he accusing one of your friends of harming your brother? And for what too? A higher rank in the team? Preposterous! “Why would I trust you then, Black Swordsman?”

Minho cringes inwardly at the nickname because good gracious, it’s so unoriginal. He’s heard about plenty of Black Swordsmen before during his wandering all over the Continent. They’re basically cryptic-looking swordsmen dressed in black...people really need to come up with more colorful monikers.

“Because I just saved your life from those people whom you called ‘friends’,” he blinks at you bluntly and the hand resting on the hilt of your sword tenses up.

You take in a deep breath, slowly considering his deductions. It’s not like he doesn’t have a point but you don’t understand as to why Hyunjin or Changbin would want to overtake your brother, they’ve only become a part of the royal guards four years ago. You might not grow up together but after going on plenty of adventures and living in the palace, you’re practically family.

Still, humans are made of greed after all.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” you exhale. “You’re going to help me figure this out for throwing a dart at Chan’s ear. But if you even think about hurting him or make a single move that prompts me to think you’re doing something behind our back, I’m going to tear out your spine with my bare hands.”

Minho chuckles at your threatening tone, slightly scared for his life, “There’s no need to worry, miss…” You raise a brow at him when he trails off rather flusteredly. “Ma’am? No- uh, vice commander? What about lady…”

“The name’s Y/N,” you can’t help but break into a fit of giggles, amused at his sudden discomposure. Seems like this man has been chit-chatting with monsters more than having civil conversations with other human beings for his whole life. “And would you get your hands off me now? We don’t have to hide anymore.”

His chest swells a bit at that if he’s being honest.

four.

“Aren’t we supposed to be at the castle?” Minho looks at the log house before his eyes questioningly. Not that he’s complaining, he doesn’t think it’s the best idea for him to show up in front of royalties either.

You pull off your hood and say, “No, the royal mage doesn’t live there.” After a few knocks with your knuckles on the wooden door, hurried footsteps are audible from inside the house—whoever’s in there must be dying to see you, Minho thinks.

“Yeji, how are y—“ The door flies open and a figure thrashes against you faster than a lightning bolt, their arms wrapped around your torso, rubbing your back tenderly. You’re slightly taken aback but smile nonetheless knowing that your friend was worried sick like she’s always been. “Hello to you too, stupid.”

This prompts Minho to avert his gaze away awkwardly, the grip on Noir’s reign tightening evidently and your horse lets out a small neigh, nudging her nose against his side like she’s attempting to appease him. He murmurs a small ‘thank you’, hand reaching upward to brush through her shiny black coat. Shaking his head, he snickers at himself for talking to a horse.

Yeji mumbles against your neck in relief, like someone’s just lifted a weight off her shoulders, “Good gracious, Y/N! Are you okay? You just left without saying anything. Changbin and Hyunjin said they couldn’t find you in the woods and Chan’s gone missing for a few days now and I got so worried I-”

“Slow down, Yeji,” you give her a firm squeeze in reassurance, chuckling. “It’s barely been a day. I did manage to find Chan, surprisingly, thanks to Minho, well, partly.”

“Who’s Minho?” she pulls away to get a good look at the man standing next to your horse, eyes widening in surprise. Dressed in black, one-handed sword, no shield, and armor. “Is that the Black Swordsman? Like the Lee Minho? He’s the real thing?”

You grit through a stiff smile, “As real as it can get.”

“Huh, and I thought he’d be some old, balding man in his forties,” Yeji comments while eyeing the swordsman up and down, making him somewhat uncomfortable. “He knows how to use a sword, is young and quite the looker too. Ohh I see what’s going on here..”

You warn her with a clap on her forearm, “You’re embarrassing me in front of that jerk.”

However, she ignores you and pushes the door open, motioning for Minho to carry Chan inside. “Move quickly now, Black Swordsman, I suppose Chan’s condition must be critical, his heartbeat and the blood flow in his veins is increasing at an alarming speed.”

Minho looks around in awe when he steps into the log house—there’s not much for him to say about the house. Furniture is self-explanatory enough: a single bed, a comfortable chair made with what seems to be one of the finest materials, a wooden shelf above the fireplace with an array of potions with different shades and colors, windows completely covered with curtains. It’s not much, but it does feel homey. He would be able to find a place like this with ease if he hadn’t wasted all of his money into information dealing and weapons trading.

“It’s nice, isn’t it? The house, I mean.”

Yeji’s question snaps him out of it. And he looks over at the table where Chan’s lying, immobile and his bronzed eyes droopy and his breaths mingling. There’s a strange, bright light pulsing from the mage’s fingertips when she hovers her palm over Chan’s bloodied ear. Minho watches as the light flickers from a shade of white to blue, enveloping the open wound and heals it completely. He meets Yeji’s eyes before she pulls her hand back, her eyes glowing gold before turning back into a deep brown. The art of magic is truly fascinating.

Minho manages to blurt, slightly flustered, “What?”

“You said the house’s nice, I simply agreed with that statement for it is true,” she briskly reaches for a flask, inside holds a soft green-colored liquid with golden specks floating around.

“I didn’t say anything,” he frowns at her when she brings the rim of the flask to Chan’s mouth, pouring the odd-looking liquid down his throat.

You speak up from behind her, arms crossed in front of your chest, “Yeji, stop reading people’s mind that’s creepy.”

“Okay I’ve got everything I need for the potion that’ll manage to turn Chan back into his human form,” Yeji tells you while rummaging through her wooden cabinets filled with bottles after bottles, grabbing some along the way as she comes back to the table. “But I’m missing some crystals. And I’m not talking about those fake ones that you see at the stores, the ones I need are way towards the north, in Drachens Hohle, on the Restless Cliffs.”

Minho hums, brows knitted together, thinking rather thoroughly about this. “Drachens Hohle is pretty far off, it might take us an entire day to get there, and then another day climbing those cliffs...we might need to pass by a store of a friend of mine to pack some stuff since I suppose you won’t be returning to the castle anytime soon. We’ll get moving as soon as possible,” he mumbles and nods to himself, satisfied with the plan.

“Let me just make one thing clear here, Black Swordsman…”

He screws his eyes shut when air suddenly gets ripped apart, only opening them slowly after and almost flinches at the tip of a dagger pointed directly at his nose; one wrong move and his eye will be gone. Minho doesn’t know what should startle him more—the blade gleaming with a bright shade of yellow or the dark look in Yeji’s eyes when he meets them. He’s seen Chaeryeong do it many times before—incorporating magic with weapons, to better the damage output while maintaining the defensive factors.

“If you lay just one single finger on my friend, I'm going to turn you into a mere, pathetic, little sparrow and lock you in a cage along with other pieces in my collection.”

Minho panics, feeling nauseous at the thought, “What collection?”

The mage withdraws her knife and laughs it off, “I was messing around with you, there’s no collection. Look after her for me, she can be quite clumsy sometimes.”

“The clumsy one here is you,” you mumble bitterly in the corner, extremely embarrassed for the sake of your friend. You might as well dig a hole and bury yourself in it.

Unexpectedly, the wooden door is once again pushed open, two men barging into the log house abruptly. You and Yeji remain still in your current positions while Minho touches the hilt of his sword, ready to draw it. “Don’t bother, they’re friends,” you wave at him absentmindedly before pushing yourself off the chair, walking over to the front door.

“Y/N, where have you been?!”

“Hello to you too, Bin.”

Changbin pushes past Hyunjin and jabs his index finger at you, eyes filled with both rage and concern. “What were you thinking? If you’re going to find Chan, we’re going with you. We’re a team and he’s our brother too! Don’t you remember? That was an irresponsible and childish action to do, you’d better have a good explanation for this. If you’re going to do something, at least act your role in the team more properly.”

Hyunjin pulls him back by the arm, shaking his head, “Changbin, stop. There’s no point in arguing. What’s most important is she’s gotten back safely.”

You eye both of your teammates back and forth, skepticism and uncertainty rising from the pit of your stomach. If what Minho said was true, then the culprit must be one of them. Or was he lying to you, trying to mess with your mind in order to achieve a personal goal of some sort? After all, you’ve only met him today yet you’ve known Changbin and Hyunjin for years now, why would you even hesitate to choose your friends over a total stranger?

“I wasn’t alone.” Changbin pauses at your words. “He was with me, this is-”

“Lee Minho.” You gape at your friend in disbelief.

Minho’s hand pulls away from his sword, a strange glint flashes in his eyes for a moment there. “It’s good to see you’re doing well, Changbin,” he says with difficulties, clearly not knowing how to act.

“Why were you with her?” Hostility washes over the atmosphere when Changbin croaks out, fists clenching in anger. “Y/N, what were you doing with a scumbag like him? Haven’t you heard enough rumors about this guy? People like him only care about themselves, they’ll just end up hurting you in the end. There’s no good in letting him stick around.”

When you squint your eyes at him, Changbin takes long strides towards you, grabbing your wrist and attempting to pull you away. “Yeji, please take care of Chan for the time meaning and we’ll be heading back to the castle. Y/N can’t just leave when we need her the most.“

Minho tugs you back towards him and voices firmly, “I’m sorry, but your vice commander belongs to me now. I’ll be responsible completely for her security and escort her with all my respects. You’ll simply have to make do without her for some days.”

Changbin lunges for Minho’s collar, anguish seething inside his chest. “Insolent bastard! On what basis do you think you have the right to protect her? You might not be a threat, but you’d better stop pretending to be a hero.”

“A hero? Like you?” He shouldn’t have said that.

Hyunjin looks rather concerned, rubbing his friend’s shoulders, “Changbin, we should go.”

“Seo Changbin, Hwang Hyunjin,” you step in between them in disquiet, shoving Changbin away. “As vice commander of the royal guards, I will be coming with Lee Minho in the next few days on an important trip and I stand by my own decision. If my absence causes the team any trouble, I’ll be more than happy to receive the punishment from our superiors. You two are to return to the castle until further notice, continuing on with your service for the king and queen.”

“As we should,” Hyunjin smiles at you sweetly before walking over to Chan, giving the wolf a small pat on the head. In return, Chan lets out a displeased growl but it’s too small to notice. Minho watches the guard from afar, suspecting the strange glint in his eyes. He decides to say nothing about it.

“I’ve already warned you about him, don’t come crying for me when things go wrong.” With that, both of the royal guards excuse themselves out of the log house—Changbin shutting the door angrily after Hyunjin bidding you goodbye with a hug. This makes your heart heavy for not being able to trust them. You still don’t understand as to why, but you have a sudden faith in Minho, your intuitions are telling you that you should trust him.

Softly, you ask, “You know Changbin?”

“He’s an old friend, we haven’t talked in a while,” Minho shifts uncomfortably in his chair, finding the topic rather awkward to talk about. “We didn’t get along that well back then either. Glad to see nothing has changed.”

You shouldn’t have asked him in the first place.

five.

A wide variety of shops lined the streets of downtown Kalmburg: antique and art stalls, jewelry, and accessory shops, luxury boutiques, souvenir kiosks and stores selling leather goods, all showcasing an array of the finest wares in the area. Tourists flock to them like fireflies to a lamp, enthusiasm accentuating their features. The silvery melody of the drawl of sightseers and the strong, distinct accents of the locals drift through your ears as they amble by.

You follow Minho to the very end of the streets with your cloak draped over Chan’s limp body. No one needs to know why there’s an unconscious wolf on the back of your horse. Alas, you both arrive in front of an old wooden door, the mahogany color fading as a result of time. He told you that he needed to pass by a friend’s place but doesn’t this place look a bit fishy-

“Five hundred units for ten bags of Philenor powder, and you’re good to go!”

A blond-haired boy peeks out from a client behind the counter. “Well if it isn’t my least favorite customer,” he voices cheerfully.

“That’s because I’m smart enough to not buy any of your shit, Jisung,” Minho walks in with a grin, pitifully eyeing the dreadful-looking man who’s taking heavy strides out of the shop. He’ll learn someday. “Still running your greedy business as usual I see.”

The dealer named Jisung returns the sarcastic remark with a gummy smile, bumping his fist against Minho’s in a brotherly way. “Don’t speak so ill of me, will you? This greedy business is housing you,” he retorts, “I suppose you’re going to hog my place tonight as you always do, Black Swordsman?” So turns out he spends his night slumbers in this old crusty shop, no wonder people think he sleeps in the woods since they’ve never run into him outside of the town square before.

“Actually, I won’t be in town for tonight,” Minho’s answer catches Jisung off guard. “I’m heading north, to the Restless Cliffs.”

“Another life-risking business trip huh. You’re going to need warm clothes, some supplement, and probably some medicine too,” Jisung hums to himself. “Hey, Felix! Get your butt over here and sharpen a sword!”

You detach your rapier from your belt and take a few steps forward before placing it onto the counter. “Uhh, can you perhaps do the same thing for my sword? I’m coming with him,” you try to appear as friendly, not wanting to startle him.

But to your dismay, “Y-You’re one of the th-the royal guards!”

The younger boy looks over at you, utterly bewildered when he sees the emblem on your uniform. His eyes look like they’re about to pop out of their socket any second now. As if to fuel the fire, Minho jerks his head towards the direction of Noir, speaking casually, “Also, ask Chaeryeong to take care of the wolf and the horse for me. Tell her to be gentle too, the wolf is hurt and confused. Don’t let him drink potions that aren’t tested beforehand.”

“You brought injured animals to my shop?!”

“One more thing, I need to see Jeong-”

Jisung has to manually shut him up by swinging an arm over his neck, forcing his friend to tumble over the wooden counter, their cheeks pressed against each other. He’s practically spitting into Minho’s face at this point. “What in the world is an outcast, stubborn-headed of a loner like you doing out here with a royal guard?! Didn’t you say that having other people coming along would only get in the way? I thought you worked alone! What’s the deal man?”

“Ahaha, it’s a long story. You see-”

“Excuse my discourtesy for I haven’t introduced myself properly yet,” Jisung stops and averts his gaze over to you, soon letting go of Minho when you flash him a crooked smile. “My name is Y/N, second in command of the royal guards and I’ll be stuck with this dimwit for a while, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Jisung reciprocates your bow, the look in his eyes softening a bit, “And I’m Han Jisung, freelance dealer, single, I’m looking for a—“ Minho finds it irksome how his friend is already out and about, starting a proper conversation without almost getting killed by you so his fist moves on its own, jabbing against the blond’s stomach, forcing air out of his mouth with a low grunt.

“Don’t mind him,” he turns sideways to reassure you, holding back the twitching muscles on his face. “He’s a decent person, despite how creepy he can be sometimes.” Jisung then elbows him harshly as a payback, making a scene when they start wrestling with each other like a bunch of toddlers. This makes you snort involuntarily, the Black Swordsman isn’t as fully-fledged as what’s been told around the public.

“Kids, that’s enough,” you tell them after making a grab for one of your pouches on Noir’s back. “Minho, why don’t you go meet up with the blacksmith? And Jisung, do you perhaps have a kitchen that I can borrow?”

While Minho’s mumbling something under his breath, hugging both of his and your sword to his chest to make his way behind the counter, Jisung nods at you, lifting a curtain next to a shelf full of weapons, gems, crystals, and potions that leads you down a dark, narrow hallway. “It’s not much,” he says and lights a candle so none of you would trip over each other. “But I hope it helps.”

“Don’t even, doing all of this for a stranger like me is incredibly generous of you,” you say humbly, not wanting to take anything for granted. “I’ll definitely return the favor when I come back.”

Jisung stops walking all of a sudden, causing you to almost bump into his back. “Is that so? Then, uhh…” he scratches the nape of his neck sheepishly. “How do I say this..? I know Minho can be irrational sometimes, loves pretending like he doesn’t care, and always runs into fire. So please..” His throat starts growing dry as he lowers his head a bit, attempting to bow at you.

“Take care of him for me, will you?”

You smile at the blond-haired boy, warmth flaring through your rib cage like butterflies, “I assure you he’s in good hands.”

six.

That night, you and Minho spend the whole night, the next morning, and the afternoon walking barefooted from Kalmburg to a small village at the base of the Restless Cliffs called Drachens Hohle. And it’s anything but Kalmburg. Rustic cabins dot the grassy hills as trees stand up like spikes, zigzagging the border of brick roads and unpolished homes. Rivers stream through deep valleys. The town is as complex as the heart, the streets are the veins, paved with red stones and the people are the heart. They look like they don’t own much, but are willing to share everything and anything. It’s the smiles on their faces, the way they greet each other, the sound of weapons and breastplates being pounded into shape that shows you just how alive this small community can be.

The motel Minho chooses looks like one of those places where men with beer guts would be snooping around with their neighbor’s wife, paying by the hour; a place where random hookers and drug-dealers would thrive. There are external wooden stairs that lead to a second floor, the second row of doors, that looks like the building inspector was either bribed to pass it or drunk on the job. You insist on finding a better place than this rat-hole but Minho said you don’t have to waste a couple of extra pennies just so the beds can be softer.

After dinner, you both receive your own keys before going upstairs to your respective rooms. A dingy place like this isn’t able to provide much when it comes to furniture anyway so there’s only a plain bed with pillows and a blanket, a nightstand with a pitch of water, and a small candle beside it. You sigh while casting your eyes around the room one last time. It’s just for one night.

“Y/N,” Minho gives your door a few knocks. “Are you asleep yet? I have something to tell you.”

You’re still halfway done with unpacking your stuff so you try to yell back without turning on your heels, “Not yet, just come in. I didn’t lock the door.”

He hums as a response before pushing against the wooden surface, closing it with a small ‘click’ after. “I just ran into the mayor downstairs,” Minho starts speaking and that’s when you finish putting your sword away, turning to look at him. And your cheeks inevitably grow hot since the first thing you have to lay your poor eyes on is his collarbones. This bastard really has the audacity to keep his buttons anywhere but a degree of appropriation.

“Hey, focus,” he snaps his fingers as an attempt to knock you out of your trance, not noticing how he’s obviously the distraction. “It took an hour for him after rambling about his childhood and his love for the village to finally spill something about the kind of crystal that we need. At least pretend like you’re paying attention, will you?”

“I was paying attention,” you mumble loud enough for yourself to hear it. What a white lie.

Minho quirks a brow and leans himself against the wall, looking amused, “Hmm, sure you did. Now, where were we? Ah! The mayor said those things aren't very hard to find, the only problem is that the field where they grow is right in front of a dragon’s den. No one has ever made it back in one piece. Chances are there might be other random monsters on the way…”

Suddenly he stops talking, confusing you. “What’s wrong-“

The stiff look on his face seals your lips almost immediately. Faster than a lightning bolt, Minho turns the doorknob and rushes outside. “Who’s there?!” he snaps at the hooded figure running towards the end of the dark hallway, reaching for the sword on his back only to realize it’s not there. “Shit, this isn’t good.”

“Someone was eavesdropping. We’ve got ourselves a spy.” You close the door again after Minho walks inside, facepalming himself onto your bed dreadfully.

He supports himself upward on his forearms and runs a hand through his hair, “Look, I’m not saying this because I’m doubting your abilities, I just want to guarantee your safety as much as I can. Their motives and patterns are getting pretty much unpredictable.” When he looks straight into your eyes with his warm, brown ones, your heart dips ever so gently. “Would you mind if I were to spend the night in your room?”

Your lips grow agape, your jaw almost drops to the floor. No one has ever asked to spend the night in the same room as you, not even Ryujin—your closest friend out of all the royal guards. Heck, you’ve barely known this man for a good three days yet why is it that your heart didn’t even hesitate? Are you scared? Most definitely not. Then what is it? What’s this weird, fuzzy feeling that’s been stirring inside your stomach for who knows how long?

“.....fine, but don’t try anything.”

Your heart is being weak again.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?”

You place your hands on either side of your hip when Minho comes back from his room with his pillows and blanket scattered all over the floor, organizing them neatly with his sword leaning against your nightstand. He flickers his eyes upward to look at your judgmental ones, slightly shaking from the cold and nervousness. “I’m getting comfortable?” he tells you, blinking innocently.

Shaking your head at Minho, you snatch the pillow from his hands and situate it on your bed, right beside your own. “Hurry up now before I change my mind,” you decide after some time of consideration. The floor doesn’t look necessarily clean, and it’s not like Jisung would pack any extra clothes for him to change into. You’re just being nice like any normal, civil human being would. You’re sharing a bed with a stranger, nothing out of the ordinary.

“Oh, I’m good,” Minho scratches his head with a sheepish smile. “The floor is fine for me.” Although the cheap material of the mattress does look more convincing than the hard, cement surface.

You squint your eyes at him skeptically, “Are you sure?” He then puts his hands up in defeat as though you’re pointing a knife at his throat and motions for you to scoot over with a wave of his hand. You both shuffle around after he slips into the blanket with you, shifting until you’re facing the wall while Minho’s staring awkwardly at the front door. Well, this is kinda nice, he thinks to himself when your back brushes over his every now and then.

“Uhh, sleep tight, I guess?” Minho says before leaning over the nightstand to blow out the candle.

“Goodnight to you too,” you spew out your last words of the day, deciding to keep your lips close before you embarrass yourself any further. Okay...maybe one last thing before you completely pass out. “Uhm, Minho?”

He replies softly, “Yeah?” Seems like he can’t fall asleep either.

Minho tosses himself over the moment you move your body and this causes your faces to be inches apart, his warm breath fanning your cheeks. Although you can’t see him clearly due to the limited source of light, those round eyes are definitely piercing right through you, leaving your heart pounding faster than usual.

“Can you tell me…” you nibble on your bottom lip hesitantly. “What happened between you and Changbin? You guys weren’t being very civil for old friends.”

When he shifts slightly again to face the ceiling, his arm brushes against yours but he does nothing about it. He likes the lingering warmth from the tips of your fingers.

You watch in awe as Minho stares up at nothing, broken bits of sadness floating softly inside his irises like an unwanted scar from his past; it’s tragically beautiful. “It was years ago when this whole monster hunting thing started,” he starts calmly, finding it hard to not look at you. “I wasn’t alone, Changbin was there with me too.”

Then, he continues, not knowing that you’re widening your eyes at him, “We were in an assault team, traveling all over the Continent and making a living out of slaying those creatures. We didn’t have much back then, but we had each other. Unfortunately, everyone has their own secrets despite our promise of not hiding anything from each other. Changbin was planning on leaving the group to go on a different path, and I...I would secretly sneak out alone every night, throwing myself into danger, thinking that I wasn’t good enough…Truth is, I was just being selfish.” His voice trails off, trembling as if each word pains him, like a thousand arrow wounds straight into his heart.

Bitter. Unforgiving. Pain.

“I knew that I was lying to them, that I should just leave without saying anything,” Minho swallows hard like someone’s stepping on him, forcing air out of his lungs mercilessly.

“But I never belonged anywhere, they were all that I had—my only family. I longed for that warmth, that feeling of being at ease so I just, I couldn’t leave. One day, we were hired to clear out a dungeon through an anonymous letter. It raised some skepticisms in my head since I’ve gone there before, there was nothing, no monsters, no nothing. Even so, I was held back by my own cowardice, I was afraid they might question me. I didn’t stop them when they accepted the job, it was good money.”

Your voice fails you when you open your mouth to say something, so you wordlessly slips your hand into his, hoping that you’ll be able to convey some of your heat to his cold fingers. As if feeling encouraged by your action, he doesn’t push you away and regains his composure.

“Turns out, my intuitions were right, we got scammed,” Minho says. “A group full of criminals attacked, wanting to keep all of our money for their own. We cooperated and gave them everything, yet that wasn’t enough. They needed to seal our lips for good….Only Changbin and I made it out alive, three mobsters from the gang died under my blade that day. I confessed to Changbin later on, he didn’t forgive me. I couldn’t forgive myself either, the only family I’d ever have was gone, my arrogance and pride killed them.”

Silently, you pull him towards you, caressing the back of his head like he’s gonna fall apart the moment you let him go. Minho’s breath hitches in his throat as he sees you wear a smile on your face, your starry eyes twinkling when moonlight slips through the crack of the wood-lined window, pieces of glass chipping off on the edges. You’re breathtaking, unearthly.

“I’m not going to die, I know that you’ll protect me just fine.” There’s a wide-eyed expression on his face, his lips falling open but his words die in his throat. A tear unknowingly rolls down on his cheek, consequently blurring his vision with waves of sadness that only the broken would encounter. You let him nuzzle his head into the crook of your neck, his fists grabbing at your shirt until his knuckles turn white.

Minho cries into your chest unceasingly, “I don’t have any real strength. Without my sword, without the anonymity that has been casting terror and curiosity on people, I’m just Lee Minho, the coward who only ever knows how to run away and hide behind the shadow of the Black Swordsman. Changbin was right, I don’t have any right to even think about protecting you.”

“My father used to tell me,” you stroke his hair gently as choked sobs punch through him, pulling him back from the opening arms of his grief. “Strength is simply an illusion, there are far more important things.”

He stops for a moment, nostalgia hurling him back to the memories of two decades ago when he was still just a boy, training hard with his wooden sword while someone watched him from afar, a pleased look lingering on their lips. Tears pool in his eyes again when that person’s face flashes inside his mind but the hollow space inside his heart isn’t the same, there’s a ray of joy that’s managed to make its way through a crack of his walls.

“And I don’t care if you’re the Black Swordsman or not, I only know the cryptic-looking guy who crossed swords with me and wasn’t willing to back down that day. I knew, I just knew that even without a sword, you could have beaten me. Because fighting isn’t an obligation, it’s a choice. A choice whether you’re going to fight until the very end or not.”

His tears can’t extinguish what has happened, yet only carry him forward until a time comes when that searing pain is distant enough to forget rather than remembering. And maybe one day, it might erase itself from his conscience for good. So perhaps it’s not much of an oddity to thank the salty liquid streaming down on his cheekbones. They’re a living proof for his morality, a barrier to save him from becoming a monster—indifferent to suffering and sorrow.

Minho sees the fatherly smile on his mentor’s face, just like the old days. And then he sees you through his blurred vision, momentarily breathless at how close you are.

“After all, I have a promise to keep,” you tell him but it comes out more like a reminder for yourself. “I won’t let you die even when I’m no longer capable of picking up my sword and I mean it. As vice commander of the royal guards, you have my words, Lee Minho.”

An ignited desire wells up at the bottom of his heart, and it baffles him. Lee Minho, a coward who’s willing to turn his back on everyone just so he alone can exist. A bastard who betrayed his only friends, who didn’t even try to plead for forgiveness, who coldly walked away from those painful memories. Such a self-absorbed being like him doesn’t deserve a simple ally, let alone something much more intimate than that.

Then he starts to remember why he’s here, with you. Your smile. Your voice. Memories are flooding back into his head about this girl who made her way into his life abruptly yet so easily. And before he knows it, she’s all that’s on his mind.

So instead of giving in to his nightmares like he would every other night, Minho stops reminiscing his bloodied past, surrendering under the sense of familiarity radiating off your touch.

seven.

You both stand in awe as the great mountains loom before your eyes, cold grey crevices holding the blood of the fallen. While the lower passes wear a cloak of greenery, the peaks are crowned with a headdress of ice. As though the earth has a pulse, it rises through the mountains, creating their bold silhouette. From carved rocky outcrops, waterfalls drifting like skeins of white lawn, and in the fields, you can see the amber glint of the rivers and the occasional mirror-like flash of the lake.

The mountains soar upward like they wish to plant a soft kiss on heaven, wanting to have a taste of the horizon all around. The path ahead winds as effortlessly as a blanket laid on a bed, yet each step feels heavier than the previous one, draining your energy. It only gets steeper and narrower as you make your way closer to the top, but giving up is not an option. You’re willing to go to the other side of the world barefooted, searching for every corner, every edge of this planet if it means bringing your brother back.

A gust of wind howls in the distance, piling up snow in drifts, blinding your eyesight with ice-white dust. You try walking, bending over against the cold, protecting your eyes with your clothed forearms. Everything looms into your vision before vanishing completely, swallowed in white. “Minho?” you call out to him after a few minutes of not looking forward, waving one of your hands around until it can feel something.

Another hand reaches for yours, and you snap out of your daze when the coldness on the tips of his fingers is clasped against your palm. “You’re as slow as a baby turtle,” he comments lamely while staring ahead, not letting you see the coral shade scattered across his cheeks. “Let’s just hurry up and get back, I’m hungry.”

Breath pale against the numbing air, you blink thoughtfully while gazing down at the sight of his fingers being intertwined with yours as the frost patiently kisses your face. He’s still wearing the same old pair of fingerless gloves, no wonder his hands are freezing. But you suppose it’s because he doesn’t want the grip on his sword to slip.

“Oh, I actually have something for us to eat,” you retract your hand to fish it inside your bag, already missing his warmth. “I guess we should have lunch, either way, we’ve been walking before the sun even rose.”

Minho makes a noise of confusion before bringing his steps to a halt, turning his head to see you pull out something being wrapped neatly in paper, giving it a slight jerk towards his direction when he continues to stare at you blankly. Wordlessly, he takes it and sighs, eyes widening when the smell of grilled meat invaded his nostrils. Inside the wrapper is a sandwich made from thinly sliced bread, generously stuffed with meat and vegetables. The peppery aroma inevitably makes his stomach rumble and without another word, Minho chomps on his lunch portion like a hungry child; the sandwich is long gone before he realizes it.

“It’s...good,” he licks his lips to clean up the remaining sauce in the corners of his mouth. It doesn’t look any different from the ones he’s seen inside restaurants but the taste is what reminds him of something he ate as a kid, he almost teared up while inhaling it. “Where did you buy this? I’ll make sure to pass by the place when we get back.”

“I didn’t buy it,” you stride ahead of him to hide the giddiness in your stomach. “I made it yesterday at Jisung’s place. That’s why the bread got a little soggy if you couldn’t tell already.”

Minho fixes his collar and his hearty laughs echoes through your eardrums, stirring up feelings inside your stomach unabating. “You would make a fortune out of these,” he tells you while trying to catch up, following your steps in a hassle. “But now that I‘m thinking about it again, you shouldn’t do that, I’d hate to see people getting to enjoy the same food as me with some cheap units.”

You blush (out of anger) at his statement and attempt to cover it up by stepping onto his toes. This causes him to yelp while stumbling backward, almost falling onto his bottom. “Why did you feel the need to do that?!”

“I can just make you more if you like it that much, you jerk,” you murmur mostly to yourself but he hears it nonetheless.

A smile makes its way to his lips, and a fuzzy feeling bubbles up inside his stomach. He’s not sure what it is, but he’s not complaining, really. It’d be nice if he could have the same delicious meals when he’d retired, dozing off while watching the sunset with his significant other and his own kids in his arms. It’d be nice if he could have a place to come back to when he needs a break, a shoulder to lean on and someone to tuck him into bed. It’d be nice if… He looks at you again after those shameless thoughts and immediately, embarrassment dusts his cheeks pink. His face feels hot despite the puffs of cold air escaping his lips.

“Hey,” Minho pulls you to a stop by the hand, suddenly giving it a squeeze. “I just wanted to say thank you…” A glint of anticipation gleams in your gaze when you both lock eyes, prompting him to look away. “Thank you, for...the meal, it was nice. I might as well bother you a little longer to eat more good food.” Lee Minho you coward.

“Do you only think about your stomach?“ you almost gawk at him, raising your hand to give him a slap in the face but Minho grabs your hand before you can do so. The next thing you know, his other hand is on the top of your head, ruffling your hair in a playful manner.

He tells you and trudges on, grinning to himself, “Let’s get moving, we’re wasting time.”

“....Minho?”

“Hmm?” he turns around with a lovesick smile on his face but that’s not what you’re paying attention to.

“You might want to look out for that…”

“For what-“

Minho swallows heavily when he sees an enormous figure overhanging his shadow on the white snow. Slowly, his gaze follows the sound of faint yet sturdy footsteps and he holds his breath, eyes twice as white as before.

“Just to be clear…” he asks breathlessly. “Dragons are nocturnal, right?”

“Correct,” you subconsciously take a step back. “And we might have woken it up.”

Minho takes notice in the thick stripe of black streaking down on one of its claws, and his face morphs into a frown when his surroundings reek off the smell of fresh blood. “No, someone else did.”

The dragon’s scales gleam dashingly in the sunlight, they are its pride and delight, violet streaks blending into a deep blue at the end. Its teeth so cold and sharp like icicles, they can easily rip any armors into mere ribbons of skin and bones. In its chest holds a hearth of ever flickering flame although the remorseless heart remains rime. Eyes with a shade of crimson as deep as the liquid that’s coursing through your veins, nourishing you; those eyes are seemingly endless pools of wisdom and intelligence.

But once those red pupils dilate and focus on the two mundane mortals before themselves, a glint of gold is suddenly evident, almost alarmed. The dragon takes off into the air with its wings stretched leathery like a bat, sending a small snowstorm flying towards the both of you. Minho squints his eyes hard while you’re shielding your vision with your forearms, coats fluttering as wind whistles into your ears.

Minho calmly takes a step forward, flashing you a smile sideways. What is he doing?

Then, he spares you one last glance before drawing his sword. As though triggered by the sound of metal scraping against the leather sheath, the dragon flaps its majestic wings and inhales, heaps of glowing embers come swirling in midair, twirling towards Minho with a fiery dance. He’s just simply there, feet planted firmly on the ground as though challenging the creature’s deadly breath.

“Minho, what are you doing?!” you yell at him, trying to keep your balance as the ground begins to tremble. “Get out of there!!”

Pretending not to listen to your warnings, Minho gets into his stance, blade angling low with his knees. What happens next downright baffles you. The blade of his sword glimmers with a shade of purple, his feet taking off towards the plume of fire that soon engulfs his figure completely in your vision.

You squeeze your eyes shut not just because of the heat but also because you can’t bring yourself to see it. Once the air around you cools off, your eyes flutter open again to see Minho angling his head over his shoulder, throwing you a wink in the process. Did he just counter a dragon’s breath with his sword?

“Chaeryeong taught me that. Neat trick, isn’t it?” he says with a grin while you’re blinking at him in utter shock; he looks almost proud of successfully deflecting that breath attack. “I use magic more often than you’d think. Nothing major, only the basic things. Enough to keep me alive.”

“I still think we need to run first.”

Minho looks at you dejectedly, “Don’t you have a better plan?”

With a howl as loud as any sky-born thunder, the dragon flaps its wings more vigorously this time, flinging the layer of snow under your feet into a blizzard—a swirling storm of screaming silver, a primal force than conquers until its core explodes. Everything around you is almost white-out as you bat your hands around helplessly in the middle of this snowstorm. After a while, you can no longer feel your legs, it’s like the storm just sweeps you off your feet. You’re not sure if it’s because of the cold or-

What the…?

You widen your eyes in a panic; you’re falling. Your perception of time distorts, your surroundings slow down until there’s nothing, only you, the sky above, and a hole that’s only a few hundred feet away from where you were standing previously. Your hand reaches out to the canvas above, grasping the endless crevasse of blue.

Everything’s a blur, a blur that swirls out of existence. Suspended in the air for a few seconds, you close your eyes and take a deep breath, letting your tense muscles relax. You won’t die from the fall since there’s a likelihood that snow’s already covered the pit. But you can’t just let yourself fall freely, that would cause minor, unnecessary injuries. So you reach for your sword, planning to jab it against the rocky surface as an attempt to go against gravity.

Once the metal comes in contact with the side of the pit, tiny flares of fire flutter in the air as if the sword is being sharpened by a blacksmith, an ear-piercing sound hisses against your eardrums. The stab is strong enough to slow gravity down from pulling you downward any faster but it’s not enough to make you stop completely.

Chan, you think while screwing your eyes shut, every cell inside your body is shaking, every muscle is aching. You can’t give up now, not when you’re still in one piece, and Chan’s hanging on the edge of not getting his old life back. You can’t give up not knowing who’s the culprit, not just yet.

And you’d rather be cursed than making out of this place alive and leaving Minho behind. Your conscience won’t ever forgive you.

When that thought crosses your mind, you grit your teeth and suddenly the sword stops sliding down, leaving you dangling midair on one arm. The rapier is too slender, it won’t hold on for long, and it’s not like you can climb all the way up to the top.

A mighty, fearsome roar blares through your brain like wildfire so you flutter your eyes upward to see the dragon with its wings folded on both sides, diving at an immaculate speed into the hole, in your direction.

There’s my ride.

eight.

Once the blizzard settles down, the setting sun comes with a sky of fire, the orange of every wintry hearth. The color stretches far and wide along the horizon like a reflection of the dawn that comes after the velvety night.

That’s when Minho sees them.

The crystals have grown as something alive may do, thriving over the ages, through many generations. As such they become a rainbow sea made of perfect rocks, the shoreline ever-present and still with colors that shine in the brilliant light of a richness that only nature can bring. Minho might feel bad when he snaps off a piece, it’s like cutting a single, healthy rose in the middle of the thorny garden. But if it’s for Chan, he’s certain that you’d do anything at any cost.

Minho sheaths his sword and sighs, turning around, “Y/N are you okay?” All that he’s met with is a muffled silence, the cold wind whistling into his ears, the hollow space before his eyes white-out and empty.

“Y/N?” Nothing.

“Y/N!!” No one answers. “Y/N!!!”

No, he lets out a choked whimper. No, no, no.

His legs tremble inside his boots, his lips quivering, his fists clenched, his fingers turning cold. And the thing that terrifies him most? His heart feels like someone is grasping on it so tightly as though they’re going to crush it with their bare hands.

A seed of fear suddenly grows inside his rib cage, thriving at an abrupt pace, branching out, gripping onto every cell, every muscle inside his body. He can’t breathe. This can’t be it, he tells himself, tumbling backward a bit. He promised not to let this happen. He swore. Yet his biggest nightmare is only one step away from becoming a reality.

Minho wants to cry your name aloud over and over again until his vocal cords are torn apart, he wants to be vulnerable for once and let himself fall. How is he going to face Chan? And Changbin? And his own conscience? He might as well run his own sword through his heart because what would be the point in living if you’re no longer here?

All of this was a grave mistake. If only he didn’t throw the dart. If only you didn’t come with him. None of this would have happened. None of this would have happened if he didn’t accept that damned offer. He could have easily flipped you off the second that duel was finished and gone on this trip by himself. And face the scythe of Death alone, by himself, like he always does. He should have died alone, he deserves to die alone.

But this time, he didn’t make the right decision and the consequences are horrendous. He gave in because of your stubbornness, your determination, your bossy nature. He let you in and his walls came down tumbling one by one, his stern and trained facade shredded into pieces. His head is a mess whenever he sees your smile, his heart can permit you to tread on his boring life. And because of those merely unguarded moments, he’s killed another person that he truly cares about other than himself.

Wait, something clicks inside his head. He almost forgets the most important thing of all. The culprit.

Minho regains his composure and snaps his head back towards the crystals. The sun might be going down but its limited source of light is more than adequate to cast a shadow onto the snowy white surface. The shadow of a person, a person that’s not you. The shadow that sets a silent inferno inside his chest, the flame spreading by the ticking second.

“I have been waiting for you,” he turns on his heels, reaching for the hilt of his sword. “Hwang Hyunjin.”

The shadow visibly flinches before stepping out, a hand outstretching from the black cloak to pull down the hood. When Hyunjin’s face comes into view, Minho’s muscles tense up, anguish making his head a little dizzy. But he maintains his cold front, not letting his opponent see how much this is affecting him.

“I’ve got a feeling that you’d already figured it out the moment I visited the cabin,” Hyunjin says slyly, his facial expression rather relaxed. “And I was so close to silencing you little errand boy for good too, but I’ll admit, the little brat is well trained, he ran off before I could catch him. So tell me, Black Swordsman, where did I slip?”

“Your eyes,” Minho grits. “They weren’t staring at Chan with what’s supposed to be concern or relief. You were looking at him like a predator watching its prey from afar. If I weren’t keeping an eye on you, who knows what you would have done to him. He didn’t sound pleased when you touched him either.”

Hyunjin drops his cloak to the ground, laughing under his breath, “You are sharper than I’d expected.” He takes a few steps closer forward, craning his neck tiredly before drawing his sword, causing Minho to do the same. “Now, now, vice commander, an innocent man is about to be killed because of you.”

Minho can only snicker at the statement, “I’m not planning on going down easily.”

“So am I,” Hyunjin gets ready in his stance, glaring at his opponent. “I wasn’t really planning on dealing with you. I would rather end her and let you take the blame. Actually, that sounds like a better plan! Don’t you agree? No one would put their trust in you—a low, damned being who lives off the upper classes’ bloodied pennies.”

With his blood boiling hot, Minho inhales and exhales deeply to keep his voice calm. “End her?” he repeats after the guard. End her. Hyunjin hasn’t made a single move yet he feels like someone just stabbed him in the gut. How could he?! You trusted Hyunjin, you went through so much with him, you trained him. And now he’s just going to turn around and bite the hand that fed him? Traitor. “Over my dead body.”

Hyunjin lunges forward, his feet sprinting quickly and he brings his blade up from a lower angle while Minho attempts to clash him from the head down. Both of their swords get knocked away on different sides from the harsh contact. Before Hyunjin can raise his weapon again, Minho sword slices at him sideways but he luckily deflects it in time—the reflexes and muscle memories from his training are kicking in.

“Why are you doing this? Aren’t you her friend?”

Minho’s sword aims for his head once again; however, Hyunjin steps to the side and makes a grab for his hand, holding his weapon down. This makes Minho lose his balance for a few seconds while Hyunjin tries to cleave his neck. He stumbles on his heels at the last second, only getting away with a small cut on his cheekbone. The pain isn’t even there, he’s been beaten up ten times worse before, this is nothing. He’s practically numb by now.

“Friend?” Hyunjin drags his sword against the ground before bringing it up to stop a slash at his chest, throwing snow into Minho’s eyes. He groans agonizingly when the white matters’ coldness burns his skin, blurring his vision. “She and Chan only care about themselves! They are the ones who get all the praises and recognition after a mission. Little rumps like me and Changbin?”

He angrily tightens the grip on his weapon, dragging a long slice downward, “We didn’t have any title, we’re merely just two faces amongst a hundred of the other guards. We get treated like we don’t even exist!”

“Did Y/N ever treat you that way? And Chan too?” Minho heaves after dodging the blow by rolling on the ground. He’s circling around the guard, trying to keep his mind clear. “From what I’ve seen, she seems to care about you and Changbin as much as she does about her brother.

Hyunjin swings his sword at him, and Minho receives the hit with the edge of his blade. The sound of metal scraping against each other is pricking at his eardrums but he can care less, he won’t be dying today. “So you can break my soul,” Minho pants before both of them stagger backward, switching their initial position. “Take everything away from me.”

“Beat me up.” Another blocked blow.

“Tear me into pieces.” Anger almost tears through his mind again. Anger towards Hyunjin for betraying Chan, you, and his entire team. Anger for falling into his trap. Anger for not being able to keep you safe. He wishes he could just unleash all of his hatred and rage on the guard. But what can he do? He’s one to blame too, after all.

“Or kill me, even.”

Hyunjin catches up to Minho when he starts sprinting away to regain his vision, the two of them running side by side, in between the lined up crystals. Thrusting his sword at Minho in various directions, Hyunjin’s stabs are getting messy because of the limited amount of space.

“But I will tell you something, you’d better listen to me and listen to me for good.” Minho’s sword strikes at him but he blocks it in time, their faces inches apart and their weapons threatening to snap each other into half.

“Touch Y/N.” A low grunt escapes Hyunjin’s lips when Minho jabs his fist against his stomach, forcing air out from his lungs. “And I am going to give you a taste of hell. I have been there before, and you know what? You would be begging me for a painless death by then.”

When the guard falls onto his knees, his weapon dropping by his side with a loud clangor, Minho directs the tip of his sword on top of Hyunjin’s head. “Think about it again, do you think that all of this is really worth it?”

A sinister laugh echoed through his ears and Minho’s eyes grow alarmed when the blood trickled down on his cheek starts to harden a little. No, something’s wrong. “You spoke too soon,” Hyunjin tells him with a devilish tone, the corners of his lips being tugged up into a smirk.

What is this? On the tip of his fingers reveals a dark shade of blue, it almost reminds him of the royal guards’ uniform. Suddenly his body collapses, he can’t feel his muscles, he can do nothing. His sword is so far away from his grip, he can’t even move his fingers. Paralytic poison. “You bastard!”

Hyunjin pushes himself off the ground, holding his sword by the hilt when the tip is faced downward. “I suppose this is the end. Our encounter is rather short but it was a pleasure to cross swords with the infamous Black Swordsman,” he raises it, chuckling. “Goodbye, Lee Minho.”

Minho locks his jaw, his muscles tense but he can’t move, his eyes are shut while he braces himself for the contact. But it never comes. A growl as loud and frightening as a clap of thunder rumbles through the sky and that’s when Minho opens his eyes to see the shadow of a dragon flying not too high above. Next thing he knows, a figure jumps off, falling rapidly like a lightning bolt.

Your foot slams onto Hyunjin’s shoulder, causing him to fall back while you land on the ground safely. Before he can register the situation, your rapier is drawn to yank his long sword away. “Hyunjin?” you grit with tears brimming in your eyes. “Why?”

Hyunjin doesn’t respond, instead, he takes a few strides towards you wordlessly. You don’t raise your weapon nor retreat it, simply keeping it limp by your side. But he lifts the blade of your sword with his hands and swiftly runs it through his stomach, blood splattering everywhere. His arms are weak, yet he still tries to put one of them around your back, pulling you closer and leaning his head on your shoulder. “Congratulations, vice commander,” he taunts into your ear.

“You’re a murderer.”

nine.

Chan finds himself waking up on a plain bed, a white blanket draped over him, and a cold towel on his head. All the mayhem from the past week comes crashing down on him like a tsunami, banging against his temple. He tries to push himself up but his limbs are too wobbly—it feels foreign, it’s like he’s inside someone else’s body and not his own. With every move, his head pulses in agony, and his muscles ache.

The pain stops when he sees you sleeping soundly against his bed, your head rested on your forearms. Another figure is present too, on the couch staring blankly at the flickering fireplace. Opening his mouth to speak, Chan scrunches his nose in pain as he accidentally strains his vocal cords but no words come out, only incoherent sounds.

“...Chan?” you rub the sleep away from your eyes, yawning tiredly.

“Ah..ah..ah,” Chan can only lift his arms, calling out to you in desperation. His eyes grow stingy at the sound of your voice and before he knows it, tears are already rolling down in his cheeks relentlessly.

“Chan, it’s alright,” you hush him softly, slipping your arms around him and holding him tight. “Everything’s fine now, you’re safe. You’ve done enough.” You bury your face into the crook of his neck, that way he won’t be able to see your glassy eyes. This isn’t the time to cry in front of him.

The door closes with a sharp thud.

Chan only convinces himself that he’s still alive, and back to his human form, not being buried six feet under the ground somewhere when your fingers graze the dull lines that his tears leave behind. A sense of relief washes over him the moment he sees your smile, though insomnia has been carved into your features over time. You’re safe, he closes his eyes. You’re not hurt.

That’s all that matters.

“Wait for me here, I’ll call Yeji in,” you give his hands one last squeeze. Chan pulls you back for a second there, a faint frown adorns his face. “Just leave the rest to me, we’re going to be alright.”

With Chan’s weak smile as an approval, you dash outside, finding Minho standing like a soulless being at the front door of the cabin. He can’t bring himself to face you after what he did. His body is tired, his mind is a mess, and his heart is filled with sorrow. Even his sword seems too heavy for his existence, it’s weighing him down, making him not be able to move.

“This was all my fault, wasn’t it?”

You don’t answer him and instead outstretch your hand, letting your fingers tug at the sheath of his sword. “Minho, it’s no one’s fault,” you mumble with your head hung low. “I dragged you into this. If anything, I’m the one to blame.”

“No!” His sudden outburst makes you flinch; hence you pull your hand back with a wide-eyed expression on your face. “If I hadn’t thrown that dart, we wouldn’t have met. If you hadn’t followed me on the trip, nothing would have happened! None of this would have happened! You almost died back there, Y/N. Do you know how much it scared me?”

“So you’re just going to leave me like this?” you raise your voice, trying not to snap at him. “After everything, you’re still going to turn away from me? Just like how you did to everyone else?”

“I-“

“Lee Minho, if you claimed to care about me so much-”

“I should stay away from you, I will only cause you more trouble. Even worse, I will get you in danger. I won’t forgive myself if anything happens to you.” His heart clenches at his own words as his shoulders shake, arms tense on his sides.

You reach for his hand, and huff in determination, “Stick to your words and protect me then.”

ten.

It’s been a week since the incident happened. Hyunjin has managed to live after the fight, yet he wants to keep his lips sealed for a while as to why he intended to harm the commander of his team in the first place. For now, he’s being kept in the dungeon while the king and queen permit you to do whatever. After all, he didn’t cause the kingdom any trouble. And if you were being honest, you would forgive Hyunjin without a second thought just so things can be normal again. It’s not as easy as you’d hoped.

Minho, on the other hand, has been praised tremendously by everyone in court for what he did. His name has been cleansed and every flighty rumor or gossip about him has been cleared out. He doesn’t like this at all, journalists are starting to snoop around Jisung’s place, leaving him no choice but to stay at Yeji’s log house for some time. His reputation was what used to keep him safe, now everything’s being flipped upside down.

He stares at his own reflection in the mirror from across the room. Minho can’t tell if it’s because he’s only worn the color black for the longest time or he’s being irrational, but he thinks the white loose shirt and matching pants that the mage brought back last night from the castle just don’t look right. Is his own moniker messing with his head? Probably.

Glancing sideways to catch a glimpse of his sword on his bed, he exhales dejectedly. I look like a joke, Minho thinks to himself.

“I never knew the Black Swordsman would look this dashing in white,” Chan enters his room with a dimpled smile on his face, Changbin following him suit. He’s recovering from the past week of living his life as a wolf, it’s still quite hard for Chan to walk so Yeji forced him to use a wheelchair for the time being.

“Don’t you guys have any clothes that aren’t so flashy?” Minho cracks a crooked smile, feeling unfamiliar being dressed in such a bright color. “I look ridiculous.”

Chan chuckles wholeheartedly and shakes his head, “Actually, that’s one of our less flashy ones. Don’t worry, you look great.”

“Why are you here, anyway?” Minho’s question isn’t necessarily directed towards Chan, but rather the person standing behind him. “If you want to curse me for the things I’ve done, then fine, I accept it. I will leave Kalmburg and move to the other side of the Continent. You’ll never have to see me again.”

Changbin steps forward, and with a deep breath, he says, “Thank you, Minho.”

Minho can’t believe his ears, did he just—

“Thank you,” Changbin says again; this time more firmly, and the look in his eyes softening. In those brown orbs, Minho can once again see the look he used to be met with five years ago, no hatred or anger, just warmth. He missed this. A ‘thank you’ has never sounded so nerve-calming before. It’s genuine, it’s real. Heartwarming, almost.

“When you told me that you would protect her,” Changbin continues, gaze cast downward. “I almost believed you, I knew you weren’t lying. It felt like that day after we both got out of the dungeon all over again. My anger always got the best of me and I just burst. I never gave you the chance to explain yourself, I never got to know your reasons. I am sorry because I didn’t care about you enough, as a friend.”

“I am sorry too,” Minho rises from his seat on the bed, suppressing the happiness inside his ribcage. “I’m sorry I bailed on you that day, I think about it all the time.”

He pauses for a moment and sees Changbin outstretching his hand, the familiar broad smile dancing on his lips. Minho accepts his friend’s warm handshake and reciprocates his grin. “You’d better stay alive first before apologizing.”

Minho widens his eyes, “Of course I am alive!”

“No, I mean,” Changbin waves his hand dismissively. “I was going to ask you to join us since there’s a good chance that His Majesty won’t turn you down, but then I’d figure, you’re too reckless for us to handle either way. So if you’re planning on going out here and throwing yourself at monsters, you’d better stay safe or I wouldn’t forgive you again. And Y/N would never forgive herself.”

Chan eyes the small box sitting neatly on Minho’s nightstand, and teases, “Speaking of Y/N, when will you tell her?”

Minho scratches the nape of his neck with glowing cheeks, he can physically feel the pink tint darkening by the second. “I don’t know, but soon. I still need to have his permission first,” he leans over to take the box in his palm, opening it carefully.

The sight of the silver band resting nicely inside makes his chest swell, his beating heart doing its best to not implode from joy. It might be too early, but he’s scared that if he doesn’t do this now, fate is going to be one step ahead and take you away from him forever.

“Minho!” Yeji calls out to him from behind the door. “Y/N’s here!”

“I wish the best of luck for you then,” Chan tosses a wink in his direction.

eleven.

“No one asked you to come, Han.” Is the first thing Minho spats out when he closes the front door with his bag slung over his shoulder. Jisung’s welcoming grin falls flat on his face at his friend’s cold remark. He really should have got used to these things by now.

“I did,” you tell him with crossed arms, releasing your grip on Noir’s reign. “Yeji said she’s running low on some herbs so I introduced her to Jisung’s place.”

Minho rolls his eyes to the moon. “Aren’t there more trust-worthy stores for the royal mage? Why would you refer her to that dingy dumpster?” And this statement prompts Jisung to give his knee a harsh kick followed by a mere glare from the younger boy.

“I actually like his place, it’s cute,” you scoff. He’s just acting out since Jisung always shows up unannounced.

“Why? It’s a rip-off.”

“Minho, you were living there for free!”

“I’m going to leave you two love birds alone now,” Jisung pushes past you to shoot Minho a mischievous smirk, patting his friend on the shoulder. “Don’t do anything weird to her or Chan is going to cut your arms off.” Actually, you’re fully capable of cutting his arms off yourself if he dared think about doing something damned. The swordsmanship runs in the family after all.

Your face morphs into a frown when Jisung finally enters the cabin, your head tilted to the side in confusion. “What is he talking about?” you ask but brush it off nonetheless; it’s Jisung, you can’t expect anything less from him. “Forget it, are you ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Minho answers while petting Noir, your horse nudges her nose against his face in return—she’s always been keen on seeing him since day one. “How is your father these days? Last time I’d asked, you told me that he’d retired.”

You nod, resting your palm on the hilt of your sword, “He’s good. He said he’s already too old to train soldiers and he’d rather stay at home. Though he’s getting bored these days since there’s not much to do anymore. He’ll find a new hobby soon enough, he will need to take a break from everything eventually. Father has never let himself rest after our mother passed away, constant work distracts him.”

Minho hears you let out a small sigh and takes another step, his hands finding their way towards yours, collecting your fingers between his, giving them a firm squeeze.

You give in after a few moments to face him completely, concern is flashing in his eyes while a small smile blooms on his lips. He looks a little tired, probably didn’t get any sleep for the past few days while you’re resolving all the problems in court. Minho never fails to stun you nonetheless, from the curve of his lips to the fullness of his eyelashes and the adoration in his warm eyes for you and only you; they make you feel at ease.

“Like father, like daughter,” he brushes a strand of hair away from your face and jokes. “You’d better be eating well and getting enough sleep, vice commander.”

You snicker, “Speak for yourself, Black Swordsman, you look terrible.” That’s a lie, he looks absolutely wondrous it’s unfair.

“I like this color on you,” you giggle after noticing his appearance today. They really don’t have any dark-colored pieces of clothing in the castle. “Look, we’re matching. You’re just not matching with your sword anymore.”

“Y/N.” The merry tone in his voice suddenly drops and Minho looks away, his muscles loosening. “Can I ask you something? But I don’t want you to get mad at me.”

You’re suddenly worried. “What’s wrong?”

“On the day that the incident happened….,” he trails off nervously. “Why didn’t you run away? You could have just left me there and got home safely. There will always be another way to help Chan. The chances of surviving that fight were too slim, there’s no telling what would happen. Why would you—”

“Lee Minho, are you even hearing yourself right now?” you cup his cheeks so that he’ll look at you. “Are you assuming I’m some sort of lowly being who will run away while their partner is in danger? I’d rather die with someone than let that person die in front of my eyes. Especially when it’s you! I would never forgive myself if I ever did that to you. So why are you saying such things?”

Minho reaches for your hand and melts into your touch, exhaling heavily.

“I don’t know...I’m sorry I think I’m losing my mind. After everything, I’m scared that I might lose you. All I want to do is run away with you, from all of this, from everything. We can live together in someplace far away, where no one can find us,” he clenches his eyes shut.

“I just- I don’t want you to be in love with someone who always has hell hanging by his doorstep, who gets his hands bloodied for a living, who—“

You place your index finger on his lips and shake your head. “Do you even know who I am in love with? Hm?” you question.

“I’m in love with the most caring, kindhearted man that the world could ever ask for. Whose heart is so warm and fragile, he’s afraid to let anyone in because of his tough past. Whose will is so unwavering he didn’t even think twice about fighting off a dragon alone. But what makes me fall so stupidly for him, is the fact that despite his wounds and scars, he’d always prioritize other people’s needs before his own. Because he’d rather believe and regret than doubt and regret.”

“Y-You’re in love with me?” he studies your delicate feature in the daylight, his heart going on a rampage.

You chuckle to yourself, “Yes, more than I should be because you’re a pain in the-“

Minho presses his lips against yours and inhales every word, sealing the nagging in until you respond to the kiss. Your hands find their way up to his soft hair, weaving themselves into the dark locks and dropping to caress his face after. He latches his arms around your waist, pulling your body flush against his so he can have more control of your movements. You’re drowning in his existence as he tugs and nibs at your bottom lip, trailing small kisses down your jawline before pulling away completely.

“I guess this means you’re in love with me too?” you ask to distract yourself from the heat that’s flaring through your nostrils, setting your heart on fire.

Your question has him stop for less than a moment, realizing that maybe he is in love with you as much as you are with him. And maybe you want him just as much as he wants you too.

He nods curtly, breath shaking, “Yes, yes I am.”

For the longest time, Minho used to forbid himself to cry, smile, and laugh like any sane human being would, as he thinks expressing his emotions is being strong, is protecting himself. But in reality, he’s just running away from his own problems instead of finding ways to solve them.

Now, he will let himself fall, he will let himself cripple, he will let his tears run freely for strength is simply an illusion, there are far more important things. He will fight for what he believes in, protect what he cares about and run on his bare feet through the entire galaxy if it means he gets to see you at the end of it, if it means you can dive into his arms, safe and sound.

Then, Minho thinks of what’s inside the little box, making the thing thundering inside his chest skip a beat. “Will you stay by my side forever?” he blinks.

“Is that even a question?” you convey between labored pants. “Even if fate pulls you to the other side of the universe, I will find you, do you hear me? I will find you and fall in love with you all over again.”

“Very well then,” he holds you by the shoulders; the eagerness in his eyes lights up a curiosity inside you. “Y/N, let’s..” But it’s gone before you can even register. “Let’s get going, we’re going to be late.” It’s not quite the right time yet. He still needs to meet someone before tying you up with him for eternity.

Because Minho too, will always find you and fall in love with you all over again. If fate has a problem with that, then he won’t be giving a damn.

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