#have I mentioned there's a lot of angst in this fic?
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Never Shall We Die (3; final)
«« Nothing is too outlandish when it’s a life of liberty on the line. »»
PAIRING: kwon soonyoung x reader
PLAYLIST: right here!
pirate lingo glossary (pls refer!)
SYNOPSIS: Deadliest pirate on the high seas or a damn fool?
The stupid King and his men have snatched Hoshi's precious pirate ship with their too clean, too soft hands; grounds to question his own vices. Except, when he and his crew land in the quarters of a navy ship, revenge on their roster, they stumble across a princess in its gallows.
Hoshi wonders if he's just struck gold, or if you'd become the final tread to his downfall.
GENRES: pirate!au, enemies to lovers, slowburn, angst, fluff, smut [minor dni], some pirates of the carribean vibes but ? idk
WORD COUNT [full fic]: 48.1k
Part 1: 17.07k | Part 2: 15.2k | Part 3 [final] : 15.8k
@highvern's out of context comment box: new fear unlocked: hoshi with explosives, victorian ankle moment, HATE HIM (need him carnally), hoshi covered in soapy water would distract me enough, strip for me pirate mingyu [hes litrally taking off his jacket], your honor hes a bitch, freaks!, mingyu crushes hoshi's head like a grape, WONWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, massive dick, the way i literally gasped like an old scandalized woman
masterlist
WARNINGS: slowburn, plot heavy, happy ending bc no angsty endings in this household, being taken hostage, knives, bombs, and guns, mentions of blood, mentions of SA (does not happen and it is not explicitly mentioned), alcohol, mentions of death (patricide), hoshi is ✨selectively moral✨but kind of moral nonetheless, side character death, [pls lmk if im missing something its alot] smut tags: hoshi loves thighs, corruption kink to the mAX, clit stimulation, oral (f. receiving), breast play, p in v sex (unprotected, 1800s contraception will make you prefer it but pls dont do this irl), making out
[AN]: final part oh my god if youve read the other parts up till now, THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE YOU i hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as i loved writing it, im really proud of this fic and im so happy so many of you have enjoyed it so far. @highvern betaing as always ty for not giving up on me. AS ALWAYS, PLS TELL ME YOUR THOTS IN THE RBS OR THE REPLIES OR SEND ME AN ASK LITERALLY WTV MUAH MUAH HAPPY READING <3
THIS IS THE NICEST PRISON Hoshi has ever been in, which was saying something, because he had been in quite a lot of prisons.
But it was uncomfortable nonetheless, six grown men tied up and shoved into a crouching space to be done with as the men that prowled above pleased.
Hoshi would be lying if he said he hadn’t had to restrain from pushing some of those sorry soldiers into the ice waters beyond the glaciers. He had resisted, the crew had resisted, but just enough to convince them of their unwillingness.
Hoshi had realised early on that there was no possible way of getting aboard Tigress without somehow climbing aboard the King’s boat first. The king wasn’t about to simply hand Hoshi’s ship over, and there was no indication that they'd wait till after nightfall to depart.
Hoshi also knew that the King would refuse to have him die so easily in the waters of the Green Islands, his pride depended on it. He imagines the man drawing up the specifics of the most gruesome execution the Kingdom would ever see. Hoshi was counting on it.
The bounds could’ve been broken out of and the locks somehow picked, but Hoshi also knew that he had to wait. Wait for you to find him first.
“What’s taking her so long?” Jun asks. He’d been the most anxious out of all, the shaking feet and restless moving making it clear.
“The bomb won’t…go off still strapped to her, will it?” Minghao asks and Hoshi isn’t quite sure he wants to know the answer.
“It shouldn’t. Not until she pulls the tab. But…”
“But?” Hoshi whips around. “Why is there a but? You were supposed to make sure there was no but!”
“Big bomb, more boom, less predictable!”
“Are you sure we can’t break out and look for her ourselves?” Mingyu grumbles, the most compromised with his longer limbs folded in uncomfortable positions.
“The minute they know we’re loose they’ll swarm her. There won’t be a way to get to her, not without fighting off every last bastard on this ship. They’ve taken our stuff too, we don’t stand a chance.”
They did, actually, stand a chance. But that was only if they were to break away and head straight for Tigress that was empty and standing right beside this very ship. But they couldn’t. Hoshi couldn’t. Not without taking you with him.
Nobody dares to suggest the easier route, and he doubts it’s just because of what he wants.
But panic was beginning to trickle into Hoshi’s veins anyway, the closed off brig refusing to give him any indication of the time of day.
The sun was only beginning to set when they were taken to the ship, and he knew they were near done for if they didn’t finish what they started before nightfall. He can’t tell how long it’s been, and it eats away at his insides.
Please be okay.
And then he hears it, the sound of a body hitting the floors with a loud thud, a chortle of air before it’s knocked out. He finds himself sitting up straighter, pressing his hands to bars of the prison, trying to peer out the narrow walkway that leads to the doors.
And then you appear in the lamplight, haphazard and ruffled up beyond measure.
The knife in your hand drips with blood, your shirt torn at the arms, your hands bloodied and bruised.
When Hoshi sees your face he almost doesn’t recognise you.
There’s angry blooming marks of red and purple all across your neck and collarbone, your eyes bloodshot and red, watering like you’d been swimming in salt water.
“Who did this?” he asks before anything else, watching you drop to your knees in front of the prison, unanswering as you fumbled with a giant ring of keys in your hand.
You jam each key into the lock, twisting it to no avail. Your hands are shaking.
The crew finally twist out of their loose bonds, Minghao lurching forward immediately, swatting your hands away. He picks out a few skinny pins from his boot, picking the rusty lock. Despite the strange angle, the bars creak open within seconds.
“There’s…There’s ropes hooked onto the ship on the main deck.”
Your voice sounds like you’re speaking through sandpaper, talking while struggling to emerge with the bomb you had.
Hoshi doesn’t know what to do when he crawls out of the space.
He’d had it all figured out in his head, what would happen in every possible outcome. You getting hurt wasn’t in any of his universal conclusions; especially not on this ship. They’d kill his crew, they might even kill the King with themselves, but you were meant to remain unscathed.
“Why–why do you look like that? What happened?” Nothing registers in his head, not even when Jun is pushing him out into the hall.
“Get up to the deck and get out across the lines!” Jun gruffs in his ears. “That bomb’s gonna go off with us still on here.”
He sees the canister that lies in the same prison they had just exited, he sees your mouth moving without sound. All he can think of are the distinct fingerprints around your throat and how it looked like somebody tried to kill you before they tried to kill him.
“Soonyoung,” he hears you say in a broken voice and that’s all it takes for him to snap out of it.
His crew is looking at him expectantly. He looks back at the door and sees the crumpled bodies of the prison guards.
So much for leaving quietly.
The minute Hoshi is out the door of the brig, he finds a chest next to the collapsed, bleeding soldiers. Kicking it open, he can only scoff as he finds the entire crew’s weapons in such close vicinity.
He feels better with his dagger at his hip, along with the rest of his knives that he slips into the loops. Even more so with the rest of his crew armed and ready.
“We know where the deck is.” He swallows, eyeing his crew’s weapons in their ready hands. He knew they’d agreed to ensure the clean sinking of the ship, but the fallen bodies on the floor were an ode to a different route they’d have to take. “Don’t hesitate if someone gets in your way.”
Taking cautious steps to the upper decks, he finds more bodies collapsed onto the floor, bleeding and unconscious. He opts to ask you the details later, wondering how you were able to take down all these guards by yourself.
It isn’t until they reach the stairs that lead to the main deck that he comes across a guard.
Before the witness can raise any alarm, Hoshi’s slamming the butt of his dagger into the side of his head, knocking him clean unconscious as he falls off the side of the short railing.
Clambering up the steps as quietly as possible, he raises a hand behind him to signal his crew to halt, peering into the main deck first.
The sun is still out, but low in the sky as it dips in the sky. There’s a few people on the deck, pacing and moving about in preparation for departure. Angling his gaze, he finds ropes suspended over the edge of the railing, parallel to the water.
He can’t see Tigress, but he knows that’s what the ropes are hooked on to.
“Jun,” he beckons. “How long till the bomb on the other ship goes off?”
The bomb Jun had planted in the first ship they had arrived in should be going off any time now, and Hoshi finds himself needing it to go off now.
Jun barely opened his mouth to reply when the ship shuddered.
For a moment, Hoshi thinks the bomb in the brigs had gone off, but when he finds the clambering of boots to one side of the ship, opposite to where the ropes tied to Tigress, he realises their surrogate ship had given its last gift to the crew.
The rest of the ship would be bounding to the main deck to inspect the noise soon, so he shoots a quick, “Hurry!” behind him before stepping onto the main deck.
The entire deck is occupied with the ship that lies a ways away across the expanse of sea, the beginnings that would soon lead the entire ship to be engulfed in flames. It’s tilting at a dangerous angle.
Hoshi stands as he uses the crew straight towards the ropes that lead to Tigress. Glancing, he finds Mingyu and Chan already hanging on the suspended ropes, making their way towards the empty deck of their ship.
Hoshi keeps his eyes on the occupied men on board, still staring at the lightshow that was their old ship. It isn’t until one of them turns, eyes towards the stairs that lead to the lower decks, that his eyes dart to the unfamiliar men on the deck.
“Fuck,” Hoshi curses, before lunging, grabbing the man by the shoulders and covering his mouth, dragging him wordlessly to the edge before throwing him off the ship and into the icy waters below.
“Go!” he hears you rasp brom behind him, ushering him to the ropes.
The crew is gone, Jun making the last jump to land on the deck. They’re running around, pulling ropes and fastening the sails to push the ship off into open waters as soon as possible.
There’s two ropes that tie the two ships together, and Hoshi ushers you onto one of them, pushing you to suspend yourself before he follows.
“There’s not enough time, go to the other one!” you tell him, pushing him to hold onto the other tattered rope.
Soonyoung eyes your state, “Are you sure you can—”
“Yes! I promise I can, please, before they cut both the ropes.”
So he trusts you, eyes straight ahead to the railing of his ship, gripping the rough, frayed rope to push himself towards the deck. His hands burn, but he finds himself moving ever closer to his final destination.
His hand grabs hold of the wooden railing of his Tigress at long last, pulling himself onto the deck of his beloved ship. Immediately whipping his head to his right, he tries to find you reaching the ship with him. The crew is preoccupied in attempting to get the ship ready for departure, he finds your form nowhere.
When he looks back, the rope he had climbed was gone, leaving gaping space in its absence. He trails the second rope, from the hook that had dug into the railing of Tigress’s wood, trailing it to the naval ship’s deck.
What he sees puts his heart in his throat.
You stand on the deck of your father’s ship, swarmed by now alert guards and soldiers who swarm you, yelling profanities and orders as they watch their prisoners get away right in front of them.
Hoshi watches as you lift your dagger, and cut the last rope that ties you together, free to fall and hit against the hull of his ship.
He calls out your name in what could only be described as a guttural scream.
His crew halts whatever it was they were doing, taking the steps to realise what had just happened.
Hoshi’s boot meets the top of the railing, ready to take the plunge into the water. He’d climb back up the ship and get you out. He doesn’t know what you were thinking, what he was thinking when he left you there, but he’d get you out.
Arms pulling him, he’s yanked back and positively thrown onto the deck.
“What is wrong with you?” Minghao yells, pushing his captain back as he springs up.
“She—”
Your father emerges from the crowd of guards and soldiers that run rampant on the deck, approaching you at the railing of the main deck.
Hoshi sees the hand that remains on his shoulder, the blood that covers the still bleeding wound, the effort it takes him to simply walk.
The bruises on your neck, the wound at his shoulder that looks like it was slashed through by a knife.
And then it clicks in Hoshi’s head, what had truly happened in the hours that you were out of his sight. And all he sees is red.
WITH THE WAY THE words on the pages seem to double, you would’ve thought you were going mad.
You’re a child, barely grown into your own body as you sit in the dimly lit library of the palace, utterly exhausted, wishing to be anywhere but sitting at the wooden desk with your name on it. The moon barely shone through the window, your only source of light the fireplace that burned in the corner and your lamplight.
It was a time where you felt like you could prove yourself, that perhaps, the reason your father refused you his approval was because you were simply not working hard enough. And now, at an hour where you should be fast asleep in your four poster bed, you attempt to understand diplomatic structures and everything that made your country what it was.
It was late, and there was nothing you would’ve liked more than to put your head on the table and rest your eyes for a few tantalising seconds, which you do, right over the book you were reading.
You awoke in the same place, shaken awake by a panicked looking servant, the sun shining through the great windows of the palace library.
It seems your disappearance from your bedchambers had put the entire palace in disarray, not realising the princess was fast asleep behind the giant pile of books other servants had already skimmed past thrice.
Not only were you unable to recite the rankings of the constitutions with the vigour your father required, but you were unable to give him a reason as to why you were absent for both breakfast and morning lessons.
He made the servants kneel in the throne room for hours, and did not fail to tell you that it was all your fault.
And now, in the ice cold of the Green Islands, old and wise enough to know that your father simply needed a reason to despise his heir, you accept the hands around your throat as his final act of terror.
Red faced and arms shaking, your father does not speak to you as he presses down on your windpipe with all his might. Your vision is going dark and splotchy, and you decide, for a moment, to let him have this moment.
He’s too preoccupied in applying his pressure to realise that you’ve raised your right foot enough for your hands to fish out your knife from its place, taking positivity in the handle of your knife that fits in your hand.
Before you can lose consciousness, you raise your arm high, and plunge it directly into his neck.
Howling, he releases you from his hold, both of you dropping to the floor of the ship with a resonating thud. You cough, sputter and hack, cold hands finding your now warm neck.
Your father lays clutching his shoulder as he remains in agony on the floor, and you realise you missed the crucial plunge in your own disarray.
It was good enough, rendering the old man incapable of finding his bearings.
You watch as he writhes on the floor of the quarters that almost became your figurative deathbed, the same hands that wrapped around his own daughter’s throat now clutching the shallow wound that renders him useless.
Standing over him, throwing your own shadow on his body, you feel a surge of power, a rush of adrenaline that shoots straight to your head. Perhaps this was your circulation returning from the deprivation, but you let the feeling imprint in your soul, let your father’s broken figure bring you satisfaction.
You leave him there, writhing in pain, digging your knife under the lock of the quarters, pulling back to break it away from the door. The guards stationed outside do nothing as you leave, and it isn’t until you’ve taken to lower decks that you hear the distinct yell of, “Your Majesty!”
Two more guards, who don’t expect an altercation from their princess, simply buffer as you send your knife plunging into them both. You do it deep this time.
Nobody was innocent, you knew these people as your father’s closest men, and knew that all of them were to remain silent as their King murdered his daughter. And when the remorse doesn’t do that thing where it trickles in after doing a bad thing, you decide you weren’t part of the innocents either.
It’s easier than you would’ve expected to get to the crew in the brig, letting out a sigh of relief as you appreciate the familiarity of people on your side.
And when Hoshi took his place to guide everyone out and into the open space of the main deck, you let your racing mind rest and decide to trust the man in whatever decision he made to lead you all out. And he did, he led himself and his crew right into the ship that was theirs, safe and where they would have the upper hand.
Hoshi didn’t know it when he climbed onto the ropes that lead to his boat that he wouldn’t have made it if you hadn’t stayed, hadn’t used your voice of authority to keep the soldiers from attempting to shoot at the escapees, cut the rope while Hoshi remained suspended from it, still only halfway there.
You didn’t look at him when you sliced both ropes before either party could pull back, didn’t register him screaming your name across the void, pretending it wasn’t taking everything out of your strength.
But you couldn’t jump into the water, not now when a dozen of the royal guards remained ready to take the plunge to save their princess as their duty. The same guards that would comply with their king when told the princess was dead for reasons they all knew but were to forget.
The bomb had to go off first, and you had to keep them away from hooking another line to the ship in the meantime. You were operating on a flawed plan and an overenthusiastic crowd of guards that were moments away from shooting a canon straight into the side of the disconnected pirate ship.
The distraction comes in the form of your father parting the crowd of soldiers like the red sea, swatting every soldier that attempts to help his bleeding form for anything it was worth. He approaches you at the railing, and for once, you don’t look at the ground in his presence.
“Bold,” he heaves, the effort in his voice apparent. “Bold of you to think you could slip away.”
“I haven’t tried to slip away, father,” you correct. “I’ve stayed right here, even after you failed to kill me. And I, you.”
“Nobody is going to listen to you, child. Give in. This is the easy way out,” he says.
As if on cue, Jun’s bomb goes off for the second time, but this time the ship shudders with more force. It has your father unbalance and fall, along with multiple other soldier’s stumbling. You grip the railing tight, counting on your father’s need to live.
Despite your horrid throat and the ache in your body, you announce as loud as you can. “The bomb is in the brig, this ship is sinking.”
The fallen king trembles in a rage you had never quite seen before. Any other time of your life, you would’ve wished for the ground to swallow you whole to be the subject of such anger.
Except, in the setting sun, a burning ship in the background, a pirate ship that awaits you, and the ground beneath your feet that was actively sinking into the freezing water; you smile at your doomed King.
“Get to the brig! Secure the lower decks, do not let this ship sink or so help me God!” His voice rings across the deck, spittle blowing from his mouth at the situation.
And just like that, your father gives you the final gift of clearing the main deck out for you, leaving but a few straggling soldiers that are too preoccupied with either the sinking ship or their bleeding sovereign.
Looking back, you find the crew of Tigress standing at the railing, you find Hoshi already half over the edge and send him a slow nod.
Turning back to your father that remains on the floor of the ship that would become his coffin, you utter your next words; for yourself, and the girl that was every second before this, all the way to her first ever memory of sad:
“You’ve taught me to be a ruler fit to be the best for our Kingdom. Consider your death my first act of service for the Crown.”
And then you jumped into the darkening void of the waters below.
The cold feels like every nerve in your body ceased to work.
It was nothing at first, the temperature so intense it had your body numb in the face of shock. And then it grew, to a striking cold, and then a feeling that pricked every inch of your skin like a million needles plunging into your body. It was only getting worse with each passing second, before it was so painful it was hot, going from cold to searing and blistering like you’d plunged into the licks of flames.
Nowhere in your body did you find a rational sense of mind, something to tell you to kick, flail or float. The warped sky was an orange through the green, only more vibrant. Like there were two ships actively burning on the surface of this water.
Hoshi’s face appears behind your closing eyelids, like a mirage or a taunt. Like he was there with you when he wasn’t.
Would he come for you? Would he take the plunge for the girl he held in his arms, promising her something to fill the gap of a companion, right before she killed her own?
You’d given him what he wanted; your father, his worst enemy, dying as he sank slowly into the bottom of the ocean. You’d run your course of use, and if he was as smart as people claimed, he’d leave you to suffer the same fate as your father.
He could find his freedom elsewhere.
And you would find your freedom in the close of your eyes, and the sinking feeling of nothingness.
Except, you feel a hardness against your body, stronger even than the current of the waters. Moving impossibly upwards, you remember opening your eyes to find a leather cord suspended in the float of the water, before you remember nothing.
THE GREEN ISLANDS WERE on fire.
But as unnatural as it seemed, Hoshi had no inclination to register anything but the way the ship in front of him tilts so far out it's already half submerged in the waters. He’d assumed they might have to ready the cannons, but with the way debris and hollowed wood floats in the waters below, they would not need to.
The King was about to be introduced to Davy Jones’ Locker at the hands of his enemy and successor, but Hoshi could not care enough right now to relish in it.
Right now, he stares at the direct circumference of water your body had made contact with and disappeared into, like the world would explode if he lost his place.
“Should I jump as well?” Mingyu asks, already half taking his boots off. However, when the man turns to find his captain gone, he lurches over the railing to find his captain diving into the water through all the debris.
Hoshi lets the momentum of his dive take him as further down as possible, whipping his head around as soon as his eyes open into the abyss. The water ripples and erupts in showers of bubbles as broken pieces of ship come apart to fall into the water. It blurs his vision immensely, any ripple that could be you in the water coming out to be yet another piece of wasted wood.
The deeper he goes, the more the water presses into his ears. He was a good swimmer, good at holding his breath when needed, but even he had limits.
When he cannot see any sign of you, he begins to feel the churning of something skin to panic brew. Panic was never good, not this deep in the water.
Twisting and turning, flailing about in place, moving dangerously closer to the burning ship that continued to drop flaming bits of killing slabs, he finds no sign of you in the water.
Instead, he watches men in uniform sink deeper and deeper in their failed attempts to stay afloat.
All he can think about is if they were losing the battle for air, then so were you, somewhere deeper in the void than he was. He prays that he’s looking aimlessly, that you’ve already somehow made your way to the surface by yourself, and you were safe on the deck.
The beaded bracelet that remained on his wrist, but belonged to you.
“A reason for you to come out of this alive.”
Even without the encasing on his wrist, you had given him more than enough reason to want to come out of this alive, to want to live beyond just for himself and his duty to the crew he’d taken in.
He chose the life of a pirate because it was his only out, and every member of his crew that he recruited in succession, he acted as the hand he had needed so desperately in that awful brothel where his mother despised him and his father, a faceless man of Port Ash.
Amphitrite was not kind, it was a lesson he learned quickly in his first ventures out at sea. So he too, had to learn to be unkind, to survive in the horrid bellies of ships that weren’t his own. And when Tigress came into his life like a vessel of hope, he found a home in her merciful wood, in the ship that he could call his very own.
Hoshi lived as a free man on his ship, with his crew that had become his brothers in ways beyond what the thick of blood could offer. He did not care if he lived or died after that, as long as it was on his ship, in the waters that held no quarter for anyone, but gave him everything that nothing else could give him.
And so when you approached him with a proposal so bizarre yet so apt for a man like him, he could not refuse. It may have been the way he saw himself in you, terrified of the prospects but thirsting for an escape more than the fear that came with it.
Besides, the king was a nuisance that needed to go, and he found himself agreeing to play the hand too complicated for you.
What he did not expect was to end up here, in the depths of the ocean in the most uninhabitable part of the earth, trying to pull you out of the cold, unrelenting sea.
Hoshi realises in that moment that this might ruin him, the possibility of breaking the surface without you.
He decides that if the heavens do not let him find you, he would simply drown in the same waters that gave him purpose, and find peace with the idea that he would lay rest in the same waters as the person who might have given him something more.
Kwon Soonyoung, the deadliest pirate to cleave the seas, was in love with you. A princess, so undeserving of a man like him; a bastard, a rogue, a good for nothing criminal.
And when he spots the all too familiar build of your form, the linen shirt under the corset he had tied for you just hours ago, the dark brown trousers that signified the change he’d brought into your life, he swore to leave everything he’d ever known to thank the skies and seas for bringing him to you.
His burning lungs, screaming and searing for air, grabbing for your suspended arm that looked as defeated as your closed eyes. Tugging you towards him, he wraps his arm around you to press you to him as tight as he could.
Relief. And with the warm sting in his eyes that he doubted was from the salt in the water, he’s sure of everything he’s felt with the feeling of you in his arms.
With the bruising on your neck, the bleeding wound in your father’s shoulder, he finds it within his breaking body to begin kicking upwards.
Every limb, every cell, every hint of life in his body shrieked with its efforts to make him stop. There was no air in his lungs and he’d lost track of time in his search for you, he doesn’t know how long he has.
But if the blots of nothingness in his eyes were anything to go with, he doesn’t presume he has much. In a last ditch effort, he attempts to kick his boots off to weigh him down a little less, holding your dead weight tighter than anything.
He was so close, he could feel the warmth of the upper levels of the water change in its temperature on his skin. The glow was near blinding as the orange refracted on the disrupted surface of the ocean, so close yet so far.
Inch by inch, kick by kick, memory by memory, he does everything left in his drained power to touch the surface.
And he does, breaking out hand first into the burning air of the world above, taking the longest gasp of air he ever has in his life. Once he’s sure he knows where he is, he pushes you up further on his chest, your head resting against his collarbone, still unconscious.
“Stay with me, princess,” he pants into your ear, hoping you could hear. “I’ve got you.”
Chan and Mingyu are in the water beside him, pushing him towards the pulley that awaited them.
Mingyu makes an attempt to take your weight of his already struggling captain, but Hoshi finds himself holding on to you tighter, simply urging him to help him back on the deck.
The minute your head hits the wood of the deck, he’s checking your pulse. There’s no regard for the chaos that ensues around Tigress, both him and his crew too preoccupied with the way you were not breathing.
“I–I can’t feel anything,” he stutters his words as Seungkwan places a less panicked hand at your neck, under your nose.
“It’s weak, she’s taken in too much water.”
In an instant, he reaches for his knife at his hip, only to realise it was gone, lost somewhere in his rescue.
“Knife,” he rasps before repeating louder. “Someone give me a knife!”
The minute a hilt is in his hands, he’s pushing you over, to reach the back of your constricting corset, pushing his knife into the complicated sailing knot he’d tied it into before, breaking it free. With both hands, he takes hold of the top of the corset and rips it clean in half.
Turning you back over, he presses his hands over your clothed stomach, pushing into it with all his strength in an attempt to get the water out of your system. He keeps his eyes on your face, and when he sees no sign of you coming round, he feels another set of hands pushing him off.
Seungkwan takes over for his weakened captain, pushing into your stomach harder, attempting to get a break out of you.
“Why isn’t she coming around, what’s going on?” He throws the question aimlessly as he takes your unmoving face in his hands, trembling from everything.
Only a moment later, he hears the glorious sound of you sputtering like something was stuck in your throat, promptly spilling out an ungodly amount of water onto the deck as you retch loudly.
Sitting up from the force, your hands clamp onto the deck as you cough and heave, Hoshi’s hand coming behind you to thump your back hard, pushing you to throw up any remaining seawater from your body.
The sight of your back moving up and down, the audible sound of you taking in air; it was enough for Hoshi to simply lay on the deck and pass out.
You rear your head and look up at him, both of you still breathing heavily.
“You’re okay,” he assures, gulping. He takes your face in hands cupping it very gently as he speaks to you. “Go with Seungkwan, you’re okay, you’re safe.”
Nodding, you let yourself be helped up by the rest of the crew, watching as you’re led to the lower decks of the ship.
“Open your shirt, let me see the wound,” Mingyu says, and Hoshi doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Looking down, he sees his shirt soaked in red, sticking to a wound on the right side of his torso. He didn’t even know where he got it.
It looks like a shallow gash, but enough to leave a scar. He takes it better to have it tended to while he was still high on adrenaline and he couldn’t feel much of the pain.
By the time Mingyu and Minghao are done cleaning him up and Hoshi’s standing upright with wobbly legs, he finds the two burning ships beyond his own mere floating structures of wood that were in slow flame. There’s too much debris, too many bits of everything that bob in the large expanse of water to make out any bodies.
“There’s nobody,” Mingyu tells him. “Most of them were in lower decks when it all went down. Trapped themselves.”
“And…?” he asks in silence.
“He stayed on the deck until it sank,” Minghao informs. “Yelling about how he…about how he should’ve finished her when he had the chance.”
“Horrible king and somehow an even worse father,” Mingyu scoffs. “Made it better to watch him die.”
“He didn’t suffer enough,” Hoshi croaks as the marks on your throat dot his vision.
Just then, floating in the water, illuminated by the final streaks of setting light, Hoshi sees it. A darkened purple cloth right next to the hull.
“That,” he points out. “Get that out of the water.”
The late king’s purple cape laid on the deck of Tigress, darkened with water, but also with his blood.
To the Kingdom, this cape would be the last piece of their King that was gone too soon. But for every person on this ship, it would forever be their spoils of war.
Hoshi makes sure the cape will be dried and stored, ordering his crew to begin their slow journey out of the Green Islands, before he too crumples onto the deck unconscious.
IT WAS A SPECTACLE to see Hoshi in his element.
Something about how he seemed to beam, like this ship was charging him a different kind of energy. It was infectious, the rest of the ship decreasingly sour as they put on musical performances on the main deck while they cleaned the floors.
As relieved as you felt, the tight ball of anxiety refused to leave the pit of your stomach as you grew closer to the Kingdom. Nothing could prepare you for the shitstorm you’d have to deal with the moment you’d step onto the soil off a pirate ship of all things—let alone as Queen.
The first few days following the ship's exit from the Green Islands were difficult, if that was all you had to describe it. You took to your hammock for most of the day, curled up as you pretended to sleep, only waking up when one of the crew would come down to force feed you and to make sure you hadn’t died.
You knew they were doing all this to make you feel better, and somehow it was working. More than halfway through your journey, you began to feel more like yourself, emerging from your cave to visit the deck on times other than the nights.
Even now, as you sit on the floor of the deck with Seungkwan, who hands you an all too familiar stack of parchment, you feel nothing as you take them into your hands. As you read his handwriting scrawled in ink, you appreciate your past self for having the sense to keep them all.
“I’m glad you’re feeling better now,” he says to you. “Had us worried for a while there.”
“Sorry.” You smile weakly. “But thank you for…everything. I don’t think I could ever express how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. All of you.”
“I’d like to think we’ve gone past the status of mere business partners,” Seungkwan chuckles. “Lion befriends the bear? Whatever it is. But know we’d do it again.”
Blinking back the sting of tears and doing your very best to not let the warm feeling in your chest overwhelm you, you place the letters on the floor next to your folded legs. When you look up, Seungkwan's eyes are on your neck.
“They’re taking their time to fade, aren’t they?” you say.
Seungkwan has a hard look in his eye, “I guess you didn’t need your letters to remind you of anything after all.”
Your mind wanders, drifting past how easily this crew could have been forgotten in the unforgiving elements. Perhaps you would have let the man that wrapped his hands around your neck finish his job.
“Was getting captured part of your grand plan?” you ask Seungkwan.
“Hm?” It takes a moment to realise what you may be questioning him about, smiling slightly. “What makes you think we went in with a plan?”
“I thought I asked you to man the wheel?” Hoshi stands above the both of you.
“Not to batten down the hatches,” he side-eyed his captain. “Clear waters ahead, the wheel does not need manning.”
You zone out as they squabble over nothing, not finding the heart to be entertained by their back and forth. Seungkwan either loses or forfeits, because you feel him rise from next to you, only for his captain to take his place.
“What are you thinking about?” Hoshi asks.
“Everything,” you sigh.
“How come Seungkwan gets a thank you for your service and I don’t? Need I remind you who jumped for you and who didn’t?”
Rolling your eyes, you answer him, “Thank you, Captain Hoshi Kwon, I am forever indebted to your service.”
He chuckles in exaggeration, “Oh please, all in a day's work.”
“I mean it.”
“Hm?”
“I never did say thank you. But you did jump for me when you didn’t have to.”
“Who said I didn’t have to?”
“Our deal was done.”
“Of course not,” he scoffs. “Our deal was to get you out when you jumped. I merely honoured that promise!”
“Merely?” you raise a brow. “Was it all merely a matter of conscience?”
His gaze locks with yours. “Don’t ask questions you know the answers for. I would’ve jumped even if you asked me to rope myself to the mast.”
“Please. I have enough blood on my hands and I haven’t even sat on my throne yet.”
“Blood is only on your hands if you tell a soul of what you’ve done,” Hoshi utters. “You’re the only living soul who knows.”
“And you are…?”
“Pirate. Our word means nothing.” Hoshi smiles.
The thought hangs in the air as you take in the man in front of you. He’s changed an era’s worth, yet all the same. His hair is longer, going from his initial shorter crop to curling around his ears, shielding his eyes. It makes him look younger, like a boy with much to live for.
That, and the multitude of notable scars he’s added to his collection, many of which have somehow been because of you. The wound at his torso is doing better, but far to go in its quest to heal.
Hoshi senses something amiss even after his sermon. Breaking his gaze, he turns to look straight ahead at the raised bow of the ship instead.
“Do you know how I got my splendid reputation for being the filthiest pirate on the seas?”
You can only stare, “I have a few guesses.”
He chortles, “Other than my criminal status.”
“Tell me.”
“Unnamed sailors have the odds of a peanut facing its inevitable fate of being crushed under a straggling boot. Pirates don’t see the government as their enemy when they’re own supposed brothers are more likely to jam a cannon in their mouths.”
He lets out a heavy sigh before continuing, “My mistake wasn’t that I was on the losing side in my early days, but more about how I was leaving nothing behind when I was done.”
“How humble,” you hum.
“Dead men tell no tales. When it’s worth it, it might be better to leave a straggler or two to live to tell the tale. A routine stab in the jugular can turn you into somewhat of a myth.”
“Am I a survivor?” you question.
“You may be sovereign on land, but you’re also an unnamed pirate,” he responds, turning back to lock eyes with you. “And you’ve left nobody to tell the tale.”
No one listens to a pirate, and everyone listens to a Queen.
“This isn’t to say there won’t be a legend that follows you.” He quirks a brow as he speaks. “Shows up and claims her father and his entire ship and crew sank at sea, only to befriend his sworn enemies in the aftermath. And then it evolves; she sent a cannon through her fathers ship, he died at the end of his own daughter's sword, she cursed him to captain a crew of the undead for eternity.”
“Have I planted the seeds for yet another ghost story?” It’s difficult to not giggle at the thought, despite how morbid.
“You’ve given yourself substance,” he says, a little stronger than before. His eyes too, wander to your neck and the bruises that refuse to budge. “Beyond just a royal or even a pirate. You did it for your honour as a human being, and that may be braver than anything I have ever conquered.”
In your anxiety ridden, feeble mind, your thoughts had convinced your conscience that everything would be over the minute your father’s heart stopped beating. That it would bring you peace at last.
And it did, especially when it felt like you’d gotten rid of this constant monster under the bed that had followed you far into adulthood. But from the bleeding heart of the creature emerged yet another one of its brethren, and then another and then another.
Smaller albeit, but monsters nonetheless. Problems nonetheless.
Weeks of this, and in one short interaction, Hoshi seemed to have given you the key to turn this monster into a pet.
On instinct, you feel your hand reach up, brushing against the skin of his cheek. It’s an all too familiar setting, seated on the deck of a ship too close for anybody but yours’ comfort. But without the rum and resentment, of course. And how you doubt he’d pull away this time.
Very lightly, you brush your lips against his. It was nothing but to simply feel him again, to feel a semblance of familiarity.
You feel him take your hand that rests on his cheek to place a kiss on your palm, nuzzling his nose into the concave of your hand.
Everything that was to come seemed a little more possible in that very moment.
Even more so when his fingers found the sensitive areas of your coloured throat, when his lips closed against your jaw, only to trail lower and to press into the marks his fingers continue to trail tucked into your neck.
That night, when slipping into your hammock felt like the most unbearable prospect in your near future, it couldn’t possibly be worse than uttering your next question to the man that seems to fix it all.
“Will you stay with me?”
With nothing but the light snores of the rest of the crew and the creaking of the ship, both you and Soonyoung laid in a hammock most definitely not meant for two. Head on his chest, ear pressed against where his heart beats under his scar, it’s bliss.
The feeling of his warm body against yours and the scent of him settling in your lungs, you decide that this was enough. At least for now.
IT WAS DIFFICULT TO give yourself the full list for obvious reasons, but it does seem to help when you tick off all the possible reasons why your patience has run as thin as it has.
Sitting at the decorated seat at the convened court of old men appointed by your father, you briefly wonder if you should finish them off too amidst your flash of anger. The men continue to squabble and babble about the next course of action, slamming their wrinkled hands on the pristine table and sending their own daggers of threats to the other inhabitants of the table.
“If you’d like to send a search party for the King’s body, be my guest,” you finally speak, having had quite enough when the throb in your temple worsens. “But remind me what troops you’ll be sending to the North if your best men will be gone for months attempting to find a body they never will.”
The dispute in the North side of the Kingdom was taking up most of the conversation anyway, and you doubt they’d put customary burial rites over their own glory of victory the North would bring.
“Your Majesty—”
“I would happily jump on the next search ship for my father,” you lie through your teeth. “But I watched him drown in front of my own two eyes, and as the next sovereign I cannot let you waste our resources for something that will both risk our soldier’s lives and have them come back home empty handed.”
Perhaps you had come off slightly more heartless than you intended, so you quickly add, “Please, let my father rest in peace.”
That seems to end the conversation easier than you had expected, but they’re quick to jump to the next issue not long after.
“The court would also like to bring light upon the palace guests.”
Tightening your jaw, you slump against your seat slightly. “What about them?”
They remain silent as their mouthpiece attempts to form the right words for the following question, mostly because you’ve addressed this multiple times beforehand but they continue to sit restless.
“Allow me to help you, Lord Bridge,” you sit up straighter, intending to put this matter to rest. “My guests will remain here for as long as they do, and if you have any more arising issues towards my guests I will only take it as your collective issues towards me.”
In the moment of silence, you continue, “The Kingdom is in a place of instability as we are all well aware. I find it most appalling that you remain fixated on trivial matters of the palace’s domestic code of conduct than you do for the wellbeing of this country!”
Silence yet again as you wait for their forcibly rehearsed chorus of apologies.
“Our greatest apologies, your Majesty.”
The pain in your temples becomes near unbearable as you dismiss the table after that, screeching your chair as you push it back as loud as you possibly can to do nothing but spite the men.
Turning the corner out of the room, you catch the open gates that lead to the paved gardens outside, the sun seeping into the marble floors indoors. Taking an instinctive step towards the gardens, you find most of the crew sprawled onto the grass as they soak in the sun.
Chan and Seungkwan look like they’re wrestling, their laughter ringing throughout the open court while their captain snaps at them to cut it out, only to get roped under one of their headlocks all the same.
There’s a call of your name and a giant wave from Mingyu, who spots you from beyond the flower beds. Still leaning against the gates, you smile and wave back.
Years the halls of the palace had gone, never hearing laughter in its walls. And something about watching them let themselves ruin the petunias and laugh so loud it echoes, heals you just a bit.
Even that night, when you find yourself in your giant four poster bed you’ve slept in since you were a child, this time dozing under the arm of another, you feel the itch of a healing wound somewhere in your heart.
Soonyoung laid with you for every night on the ship since that night, and stayed even here where the space was big enough to host the ghosts of your worries if not distracted.
He had found you on that first night in the palace still awake, haunting the library fireplace with another stack of papers to keep you company.
“Can’t sleep?” he’d asked as he picked up some of your documents.
“Clearly not,” you huff. The papers were mere decorations as you attempted to find an excuse to leave your rooms.
“You realise you won’t be much of an effective monarch if you exhaust yourself to death?”
There was no answer to that, especially when you were absorbing nothing of your new duties. You’d expected to fall asleep on the armrest of the uncomfortable settee whenever it was that you exhausted your brain of thoughts, even then refusing to sleep in that large bed.
He’s awfully persuasive, because as he tucks you into those very sheets, about to leave but not before placing a kiss on your forehead You stop him.
“Stay. Please.”
True as he has always been, he does.
THE CROWN IS HEAVIER than you had expected, even more so when it remains on your head for longer than your previously practised sessions walking around the throne room. The crew was exceptionally good at giving you things to train with, including fraudulent rodent scares to ensure the crown would not topple from your own head the minute you rise from your coronation.
And now, as you finally remove the decorative piece from your head after your actual coronation to replace it with something lighter for the following ball, you find relief in the fact that you’d only ever have to wear the actual thing only a few times in your life.
Everything moves as smoothly as it could, the decorated pirates that saved their Queen from a horrid shipwreck taking up most of the attendees attention as they either question inquisitively or send snarky remarks to the men who are well versed in how to rebut in true informal manner.
The past months had taken up more of your time than you had anticipated, and during the latter half of the still twinkling party, you attempted to spot the person you’ve been trying to corner all night.
Soonyoung stands at the edges of the gathering, empty handed as you watch him reject yet another offer for a drink from the trays that float about. His attire is the most formal you had ever seen, his face scrubbed and hair pushed back for the glorious occasion.
Approaching him from the sidelines, you take hold of his wrists and pull him towards one of the many doors in the ballroom and into a hallway you knew for a fact was rarely ever frequented.
“I feel I haven’t seen you ages,” you say once you’re sure you’re alone.
“Probably best for you to keep busy,” he replies with the smallest smile.
“Have the wrappings on your wound come off?”
Looking at his covered torso, he runs an instinctive hand over where the wound was. “Just a smaller patch now, but it’s nearly there. Disappointed it won’t scar too much.”
“Disappointed?”
“These are my spoils of war, miss princess,” he adds with a smirk, before correcting himself. “Ah, miss queen?”
“Doesn’t have the same ring,” you comment.
“The crown suits you.” His voice is soft and sincere.
Scoffing a little, you answer, “I would hope it did.”
“Although, I do prefer you in trousers and a knife.”
Laughing, you can only agree. Especially in your heavier than yourself dress and jewels. “I think I prefer them too.”
At the mention of your new status, he asks, “Shouldn’t you be milling between your new subjects?”
Keeping your eyes on his face, you wait until he meets your gaze. “I have more important things to attend to.”
He breaks eye contact first, and you can feel the distance grow further. One reach and you could take his hand in yours.
But you don’t.
“I know I’ve been quite busy, but…” you trail off as you attempt to find the words. “Is something the matter? What’s going on?”
With a long sigh, he runs a hand through his kept hair, effectively tousling it a little. “I was going to wait until after the ball to tell you.”
“Tell me what?”
He makes no moves to look at you when he utters his next words. “The crew and I will be leaving at dawn tomorrow. We’ve taken up enough of your space and it’s best if we don’t intrude any further.”
It’s like you’ve taken a blow to the chest, the air knocked out of your lungs as you register what he’s just said. “You’re….you’re leaving?”
“I would think we’ve both gotten what we wanted. We had a deal.”
Deal? Why was he mentioning that now?
“Are you going to abandon me too?”
His head snaps up to finally meet your eye, mouth opening closing as words betray him.
“What happened to what you said about gaining you? All of you?” There’s a blatant accusation in your words.
“And you have! We’ll visit. Assuming the state doesn’t want my head on a pike anymore,” he chuckles uncomfortably.
In a moment of desperation, you take his hand in both of yours; his scarred, gnarled hands that tell you even in the dark who’s warmth it is that you feel every night next to you.
“Stay. Stay with me, please,” you plead. “I can’t live in this place alone, I despised it when I was young and I’ll only despise it even more now.”
Soonyoung brings his other hand to clasp over both of your own, eyes closing as you hear him take a somewhat shaky breath. “I’m doing this for the both of us.”
“So am I! I can’t possibly rule a kingdom by myself.”
“I’m sure you’ll find someone—”
“I don’t want someone! I want you!”
He begins to whisper your name, moving his face away to blink rapidly.
“How do you feel about becoming a pirate king? I can never forbid you from the waters, that’s your home, and you will have it.”
He does not look at you, but you know he’s listening more intently than ever before.
“But I ask you as someone who loves you more than I have ever anything else, will you stay and marry me?”
Soonyoung falters as he absorbs the fact that you’ve just proposed to him.
“I—” he stutters. “The court—”
“The court wouldn’t dare to deny me the man that saved my life.”
You squeeze his hand tighter, moving impossibly closer.
“And even if they do, I'm ready to fight for the man who fought for me. So answer me as a man and not a pirate, Kwon Soonyoung, will you marry me?”
Soonyoungs mouth enclosing over your own is all the answer you need as you feel him break free of your hands to let them find your waist instead. Amidst the pile of fabric he pushes himself into you as close as possible, letting your hands guide his head to move against your mouth.
It’s everything, as you grip onto the back of his shoulder, pressing unforgettably into his open mouth. He takes in your bottom lip between his own, sucking before letting go, only to engulf your mouth once again.
“We’ll figure it out,” you whisper against his lips, feeling the nuzzle of his nose against the apple of your cheek, hot tears spilling from your eyes. “I promise, we’ll figure everything out.”
He shushes you when he feels you shudder in his hold, pulling away to rest his forehead against yours. “No need to torment your pretty head. Not right now.”
For once, you listen to your pirate captain without a fight, simply feeling the stretch of your lips as he moves down to capture them once more.
The pressure of his hands isn’t nearly as strong as it would’ve felt without the layers upon layers of fabric that cover your form, but standing in this desolate hallway, you swear his fingers might as well be caressing your bare skin underneath.
The thought sends your mind into a dazzling spin, letting go of his mouth with a gasp, suddenly needing to take a step back.
“I have to—I have to go back inside,” you breathe into his slick mouth. “Meet me outside my quarters at midnight.”
As scandalous as it was, you could not deny how alive it made you feel to be like this, meeting in darker corners in the dead of night. But for now, you allow him to fix the bits of your ensemble you could not see. With the bad of his thumb, he blends in the smudges of your rouge, swiping at your lips ever so delicately to ensure he leaves no trace of himself. Tucking the loose strands of hair back behind your ears, and finally, fixing the encrusted crown on your head, a flash of one of the diamond’s gleams reflecting onto his perfect face.
“You’re beautiful.” There’s a dazed look that graces him. “Beyond beautiful.”
With one last innocent press of your smiling mouth onto his, you promise him your midnight.
BY THE TIME IT was finally an appropriate hour for you to excuse yourself for the evening, you were near to exploding entirely.
Whispers of “Are you alright, your Majesty?” plaguing you through your already racing mind. It was beyond difficult to keep the constant shaking of your foot unobvious, however you could not simply up and leave whenever you wanted—at least not yet. The monarch would remain in an unstable authoritative position for quite some time after ascension, and with the unorthodox situation at hand, you assume you’d really have to push yourself if you were to be of any use as sovereign.
But when the time finally came and you were escorted out of the grand ballroom, only mere ticks away from the resounding bells of midnight, you were holding back from breaking into a sprint. Outside your quarters it was empty, but you remain steadfast in your refusal for your ladies in waiting tonight, promising you could dress yourself for bed on your own.
Standing at the double doors of your rooms, still the princess’ quarters as you refuse to move into the Queen’s rooms, you stand waiting. The two guards remain staring straight ahead, and you wait for the clicking of your ladies to go muffled before you ask.
“Has the Captain approached?”
“No, your Majesty.”
You try not to feel disappointed, despite knowing the midnight bells were yet to sound. “If he does, allow him in, please.”
Opening the double doors, you half wish you had let your ladies help you out of the god awful dress, tight and loose in all the wrong places. The jewels are thrown haphazardly on your vanity, needing the heavyweight of them off of your body.
Perhaps months of little to no bedazzling had rendered you incapable of wearing anything mildly less comfortable than linen and leather, but you suppose you’d slip back into the habit just as easily as you slipped out of it. Your nightgown feels like heaven on your tired, tired body, and the dimly lit interior of your bedchamber is only encouraging you to slip under your covers and fall deep into sleep.
That was one thing about the ship you doubt you’d ever miss.
Three rapt knocks outside of the heavy double doors have you sitting rapt at attention, hastily making your way to the door from your vanity. Pressing the front of your nightgown down, you open the door slightly and poke your head out.
Soonyoung stands at the door, nervous of all things, still clad in his full suit. You smile as you let him in, closing the door to turn the lock.
“Your guards mortify me.”
“Oh? So they’re doing their job right?” You walk up to him and grasp onto his lapels, pulling him down to meet the lips you’ve missed so much despite only being hours apart. “Why? Has this big bad pirate found his match in the palace guards of all places?”
“Hmm,” he’s humming against your lips. “I could take them both.”
Giggling like you were in love, you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him close.
“I hope you weren’t bothered too much,” you say. “The aristocracy seem to have being a pain in the ass written in their birthrights.”
“I think they were too scared to approach, probably thought I’d start swearing and snatching the pearls right off their necks. Some of them were bearable, asked me how long my sword was.”
It’s difficult to not laugh at that, “Well?”
He raises his brows unceremoniously, “Won’t you like to know?”
Taking the opportunity while you giggled uncontrollably at the situation, he goes back placing never ending kisses to your mouth. Sighing involuntarily, you melt into him once again, infinitely more relaxed than in the hallway.
Soonyoung’s eyelashes brush against yours in a whisper of their own, only reminding you how close you were to him in the moment. His kisses go from soft and fleeting to something with a little more vigour. The warmth of his mouth goes back to overtaking the lower half of your face, sucking and licking into your mouth like his life depended on it.
If your mind was reeling when his hands were merely ghosts of pressure over your heavy dress, the feeling of his palms and fingers so distinct over your nightgown, the only thing separating you two, is enough to have your knees begin to buckle.
From your waist, they move to your back, before caressing back to the sides of your waist, thumb running in circles. Gentle handfuls of your flesh, bunching and letting go of the material of your nightgown. Very soon, his mouth leaves yours and instead moves to your jaw, the air in the room letting you feel the wetness that he leaves behind as a passionate trail.
He soon reaches the junction of your jaw and neck, leaving a particularly long suck in the area that has a gasp leaving your mouth. Remaining in that area, you feel the pleasant graze of his tongue on your skin, only making you tilt your head farther out to let him carry out his loving.
Your mind wanders back to the hands that grope you in ways that would defame you, the unseemly palms that have you needing to feel him all the same.
With grazing hands, you slip your fingers underneath his jacket, pushing it off one shoulder. He understands the message, flicking it off of his frame before loosening his cravat and throwing it somewhere behind him.
Unlatching from your neck, he comes round to face you to find your face the epitome of disconnected and dazed.
“Can you wait for me on the bed, my love?”
“But—” The thought of him being even an inch away was most aggravating, but he cuts you off before you can refute.
“I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” Soonyoung rests his forehead against your own, taking your hands in his. “I’m right here. I just need to take this awful suit off.”
Your face must have been peculiar because he’s immediately jumping, panicked. “Uh—do you not want me to, we don’t have to, I just thought—”
“No!” you yelp, wide eyed. “I, um, I’ll wait. On the bed, I mean.”
He lets you walk over to the giant four poster bed, pushing the flow of your gown down when you realise how high it had ridden, cheeks burning scarlet at the thought of exposing so much.
Hearing ruffles from behind you, you cannot bring yourself to look back at him, already extremely lightheaded and afraid that the sight might make you faint altogether.
Perhaps you were experiencing a delayed case of sea legs, because it’s more difficult than usual to make yourself comfortable on the soft beddings. You make a futile attempt at slowing your breathing.
By the time Soonyoung is done, meeting you in the middle, you keep your eyes on his face as he’s immediately climbing over to kiss you softly. Hand on the back of your head, he guides you to lay flat, adjacent to the headboard so you’re laying on the breadth of the bed.
He handles you like you were made of glass, and it only makes the strange ache between your legs increasingly present and uncomfortable.
Noting a cool feeling on the base of your throat, you open your eyes and catch the leather cord that dangles from his neck, the letter opener charm that’s attached to the end of it connecting you two as your lips part. Just beyond, through the dip of his collarbones and the valley to his chest, you catch the scar that curls above his heart. Even lower, you find the smaller wrappings of his scarring wound.
You trace over the edges of the new addition, shaking hands as you try your best to not brush over the wound.
On the other side, Soonyoung has his hands on shin as his body hovers over you between your legs. Curling around, he caresses the skin of your bare calf, drifting to the back of your knees. He takes the opportunity to lift your leg, urging you to wrap it around his waist.
The action has gravity doing what it does best, the hem of your nightgown dropping to bunch over the junction of your leg, your entire thigh exposed for the air.
Soonyoung takes no time to let his hands wander higher, taking light handfuls of the flesh of thighs, dragging his grip further and further up.
“Nearly tipped the ship over when I saw you in those fucking trousers,” he says, eyes closed as he drags his mouth over the inner part of your thigh.
The sound that leaves your mouth is breathy, mind preoccupied with how quickly he was making his way towards the apex of your thighs. He’s using his mouth like he used it on your own lips, nipping at the flesh before biting down hard.
“Soonyoung!”
Tongue running over the patch, he sucks on the area to sooth the bite. It’s taking everything out of you to not twitch uncontrollably in his hold, the heat in your core reaching temperatures you’ve never experienced.
Unlatching himself from your thigh, Soonyoung rears his head slightly. The sight has your head rolling back, mind drifting to the face of the man who’d visited you in your dreams, the same man that had now made home between your legs.
Before you realise it, the bunched hem of your nightgown is flown upwards entirely, fluttering as the fabric lands on your stomach.
Your heat is bare underneath, evident with the way Soonyoung keeps his eyes on the now fully exposed part of you. Your chest continues to rise and fall as you lift your head to look at him, eyes half closed and mind muddled.
“What…What’re you doing?”
Soonyoung looks like you’ve disturbed him from a trance, snapping up to look at you as you ask him your question.
It hardly registers in his mind. What was he doing? Was it not obvious—
Ah.
If the mere sight of your bare thighs weren’t enough for him to release his load onto the sheets untouched, your unawareness might just end up doing it for him.
Of course you didn’t know why he was at eye level with your cunt; women from this world were not supposed to know.
The buzz in his mind renders him useless for a few moments as his vision blurs, the pain in his lower region unbearable. The thought of him being the first person to do this to you, to pleasure you like this; he wasn’t sure if he’d make it till the end of the night alive.
Screwing his eyes shut, his palms full of your thighs, he drops his head and counts to ten.
“Will you let me show you how a Queen is meant to be worshipped?”
Wet mouthed and unhinged eyes, your arousal was doing nothing but multiplying at the sight of him.
“Do you trust me?” he asks. “I promise I’ll make you feel good.”
It takes you less than a moment to nod your head, eyes locked with his.
Bringing a hand closer, he dips one finger into the beginnings of your hole. Bringing some of the glisten onto his fingers. Your lips are parted and he brings a second finger to gather your arousal, rubbing over your entrance ever so slowly.
The motion makes you let out a heavy exhale, gripping onto the bunched fabric at your stomach till your knuckles turn white.
With little warning, you feel his fingertips push and drag upwards, right over the sensitive bundle of nerves. Immediately, he’s rubbing your arousal all over the area, rubbing your clit in rhythmic circles with both fingers.
You can’t stop it when you throw your head back and let out a slight whimper, relishing in the feeling that overtakes every last sense and capability, anticipating the next surge of pleasure that courses through your entire body like you've been struck by a bolt of something.
Vision obscured, you loll your head to the side when you feel his fingers retract, confused.
All you catch is the outstretched nature of his tongue, and how it lands directly where his fingers were.
You let out the loudest moan yet, back arching off the bed as he licks a forceful drag up your cunt before moving back down your clit, circling your hole with the tip of his tongue, right before repeating. He flicks your nub right where he’s found you twitch the most, back and forth as your hips begin to fail at your suppressed stutters, his hands needing to pin you down onto the sheets to continue.
He becomes more generous, laying his tongue flat now as he massages your nub so good. Your thighs are closing around his ears and he does nothing to stop you, nearly suffocating between them. Hips going from their stutters to a grind, you find your hands flying to his hair, grip tighter than you thought you’d come down with. It doesn’t help that he’s now taken a finger to circle your entrance while his lips suck on your clit.
“Soonyoung.” It’s all you can say, throat incapable of forcing anything but his name, the burn behind your eyes only making it harder to not say it louder.
When he pushes the finger in, it has you letting out a moan, the foreign feeling against your walls only forcing them to clamp onto his digit. Gradually, you feel his pace quicken as he slides his finger in and out of your hole, his mouth still doing beautiful things to your cunt.
It doesn’t take long for him to shove in another finger, stretching your hole as you let out a constant string of noises through the pleasure, ever-building as every passing moment only scrambles your brain further.
And then you feel him groan, a vibration throbbing through your system.
It’s suddenly all too much, and before you can tell him what’s going on, you’re rendered incapable. You don’t know where your limbs fly, but all you feel is white hot and overwhelming to an unbelievable degree.
“Oh–ungh—” Your body is telling Soonyoung all he needs to know as he only pushes into your pussy even further, letting you ride out your high as you claw at him in every way possible.
Inevitably, the feeling subsides and you realise you’ve been reduced to sobs, tears streaking the sides of your face. Laying flat with your head still on the sheets, you stare at the ceiling of your four poster, trying to remember where you were.
Barely noticing the man that now hover above you, you hear him whisper. “Are you alright?”
Nodding weakly, you don’t even try to lift a finger in the remaining aftermath.
“I need words, my love.”
Swallowing thickly, you give him a breathy, “Yes.”
The lower half of his face glistens in the light like unorthodox diamonds, and all you can think about is how you need him closer to you.
You make an attempt with your nightgown, your trembling arms, still coursing with the aftershocks of your orgasm.
Soonyoung decides to help, hands pushing your spine into an arch as he pulls the slip up and over your head, now entirely bare in front of him.
You watch as instead of throwing the fabric away, he brings it to his mouth to wipe the slick off, tainting the gown with your essence.
Mouth over yours in a salty kiss, you pull him into you as close as humanly possible, needing to feel his heat, his weight, his scent as close as possible. His mouth reaches your throat again, lips brushing over the expanse as he places open mouthed kisses over the nearly faded marks.
His hands are lingering once again as they ghost the sides of your breasts, thumbs coming close to your nipples before retracting in a caress. He takes them in handfuls as he goes back to busy your lips with his own, massaging the mounds with a pressure just enough to have you reeling.
Flicking your nipple lightly, he goes back to circle the bud with thumb again. Making himself further familiar, his fingers begin to pinch and pull at them, pressing down to get a noise out of you, one that you sound as you breathe into his mouth.
Trailing over your stomach, he pushes himself off of you. On his knees, he takes the distance as his chance to look at you in your entirety for the first time. Your fucked out expression and your lack of words is doing nothing but fueling him, your loud breaths somehow more sinful than anything he could ever do to you.
In one swift motion, he’s slipping his arms beneath you, pulling you up so he can lay you against the headboards and pillows. You barely register what’s happening, having given yourself up to him long before.
Grabbing one of the millions of cushions on the bed, he swings one over. Using no strength of your own, he lifts your hips and places it down beneath you, effectively propping you up.
And then he’s meeting you at eye level, hands cupping your face. “I need you to listen to me, darling.”
He waits for confirmation, of which you can only nod, still seeing mild stars. “Do you want to stop?”
It's a visceral reaction; the violent shaking of your head, the hand that flies to his bicep. “N–no!”
You pause as he grips onto your upper arms tight, right as you continue. “I just—a moment. Don’t stop, please.”
Leaning down, he places a long kiss on the corner of your mouth before moving his head to fit into the crook of your neck. He nuzzles his nose against the skin below your ear.
“I’m right here,” he whispers. “For as long as you want me.”
His kisses go from desperate to something with a little more intent, pressing his lips into your neck consistently. Oh so gently, it begins to feel like a draught. He turns into calm just as he could become chaos, bringing you down from the after effects of his own actions.
The hum that leaves you is unthinking, fingers remaining deep in the roots of his hair. Your own nose is pressed against his hair, his scent mixed with sweat infiltrating your nostrils. It fills your head with a pleasant buzz, one that you feel force a pull at the corners of your mouth.
“I meant it when I said it,” you murmur into his hair. “I don’t want anyone but you.”
Raising his head, he meets your eye, smiling slightly. “I believe you. Forgive me for making you believe I was trying to leave you.”
“You weren’t?”
He presses his lips into a line, exhaling as he drops his chin to his chest. “I’ve needed to be selfish my whole life just to survive. Leaving…I wasn’t sure how I would’ve gotten on that boat in the morning without taking you with me somehow.”
Moving back to look at you, you realise very quickly there’s more to the mere glassy look in his eye. “For once, I wished to be anything but a pirate, to be anywhere but near the sea. Not when you wouldn’t be there with me.”
Taking one of his beautifully decorated hands to your mouth, you kiss the soft of his palm. “You’ve done more than anyone ever has to protect me.”
You laugh against his hand, “This is my turf, captain. Let me protect you… protect us.”
Something injects you with a dose of bold, and you find yourself wrapping your arms around his raised shoulders. “But…I believe we were in the middle of something. I’d hate to ruin the mood.”
The smirk that graces his lips is immediate, pushing you back down onto the sheets as you let a laugh escape you.
And then you feel something warm graze your bottom lip, pointed in the way it pushes inwards. He’s brought the glinting letter opener charm up to your lips, the trinket pinched between his fingers as he continues to keep it on your mouth. He kisses you deep as the metal remains between you two, your hands run across the expanse of his back, feeling the muscles ripple as he props himself between you.
“I love you,” he cuts between the kiss to groan, the charm dropping from between your mouths to your chest.
“I love you, mmh—” His fingers have found your clit mid confession, rubbing quickly as he attempts to get you all hot and withered again.
Your legs raise on instinct, back arching as he rubs you mercilessly, the pressure building quicker than it had before.
“I–I think—” you start to tell him, and it seems it’s all he needs to remove his fingers entirely.
“Soonyoung!” you yelp, landing on the bed with a thud.
Looking down, you find his hands wrapped around the length between his own legs, and you realise this was your first time seeing it. Past the white-oozing slit, his tip is a painful looking red. If his hands weren’t already pumping and he hadn’t already lined himself up to your hole, you would’ve taken him into your own palms, done exactly with your mouth that he’d done with his own.
But you can’t find it within yourself to stop him when you feel the initial push of his bulbous tip against your hole, the stretch causing you to drop your mouth open.
“Fuck,” you hear him curse, and when you look up you find his own eyes screwed shut. His hands grip the plush of the pillow beside your head as tight as ever, face askew like he was holding himself back from combusting entirely.
Slowly, you feel the stretch turn into something akin to a burn, a sting in the back of your eyes. You let him push himself into you at his own pace, the never ending battle between your mind and your refrained hips ever present as you attempt to keep them at bay.
He keeps his pelvis flush against yours ince he’s sheathed himself inside you entirely. BOth of your pants fill the thick air of the room, the throb of your walls around his shaft leaving a tremble in his forearm despite your forsake.
Hand somewhere above your head, you feel Soonyoung pull out ever so slightly before pushing back in. Just like this, in shallow thrusts, he pumps himself in an out of your walls in a slow pattern.
It begins with a simmering tremble of pleasure that prolongs as he drags his cock in and out, and then in and out, and then—
Your eyes fly open when you feel his hips slam against yours with a resounding sound, fingers gripping his arm as he does it again, your moans penetrating the air. Before you know it, he’s hiked your legs up to wrap around his waist, ankles locking as he goes back to snapping his hips into you.
“Oh, Soonyoung.”
Your nails are digging into his bicep like it was the only thing tying you to this earth, the only thing keeping you from passing out entirely. He’s taken up a brutal pace, pistoning into your clamped walls with a vigour unmatched.
All Soonyoung can hear is the stretch of your moans and groans directly in his ear, the obscene squelch of both of your fluids mixing at your middles. Your hands have migrated to his back, clawing at the skin like you’ve been utterly possessed.
He can’t seem to mind, not when they’ll simply become reopening wounds every time he’ll have you like this, all to himself and no one else. He wonders vaguely if your guards outside can hear the way you’re losing yourself in him just as he is in you, wonders if it appalls them that a filthy pirate gets to have their Queen in his arms as her vindictive pleasure.
One hand rubbing over your slick clit, he pulls back to sit on his heels, the angle allowing him to keep ever part of you occupied, his spare hand coming up to toy with the pillow of your breast.
It’s all too much, for the both of you as your collective noises become increasingly frequent and high pitched.
And then he’s pushed you over the edge, the shake of your thighs electrifying as you nearly scream out in the bliss of your high. Hands moving every which way to find a grip as you let the feeling crash into you over and over again.
“Oh, that’s so good, so good, oh my goodness.”
You’re still in the middle of your climax when Soonyoung can’t take it anymore, letting himself release his load inside of you like a mark. It’s a mess of force and pleasure as the both of you lose sight of your strengths and weaknesses, the feeling of his hot cum shooting into your walls only prolonging your orgasm even further.
He continues to thrust, continues to play with your nub, continues to flick at your nipples despite the orgasm subsiding. It’s all suddenly too much all at once, the sharp jerk of your body and your voice asking him to stop.
“Soon—Soonyoung, it’s too much.”
Hands coming to a halt and his thrusts slowing, you feel him ease himself out of you.
It’s a sight Soonyoung doubts he could ever forget even if he tried, your still pulsating walls doing everything but keeping the milky white of his load inside you, globs of the liquid spilling out as you shudder near lifeless on the bed. His hands grope at the inside of your thighs, pulling your lips apart to take in the mess he’s made.
He can’t help himself when he pushes two fingers into your hole, feeding his cum back into your hole right where it belongs.
You’ve only barely started to come round when he meets you at eye level, plopping next to you on the bed.
“Hi,” he grins.
“Hi,” you breathe back, hands coming up to touch his face.
He lets you breathe for a few moments as he finds himself getting off the bed to find your tainted nightgown, moving back to you to spread your legs and wipe you clean as best as he could.
You find it within yourself to allow him to pull you into a sitting position, a cup of water from the nightstand pressing against your tired mouth.
“Come on, just one,” he urges as you slump against his chest.
You take a few sips as he coaxes you into drinking the full cup and half of the second helping.
He gives up as he holds you against his chest, brushing his fingers through your tangled hair to push past your face.
“Are you alright?” he asks you. Your eyes are closed when he leans down to place a peck on the apple of your cheek.
“Mhm,” you muffle. “Want to sleep.
“I’d let you, but…”
“Soonyoung, I can’t go again,” you whine.
He chuckles, “I meant to ask where we could find some sugar around here. You barely ate anything at the ball.”
“The kitchens?” you answer with a floating question mark.
Soonyoung can’t help it when he squeezes you so tight it has you complaining loudly, not being able to sustain the love just in the tiny expanse of his heart.
“Come on, let’s get you some cake before both our hearts give out.”
BUNDLED UP IN WARMER clothes, the only thing the palace walls hear is the tiny whispers and giggles of you and your lover as you make your way to the kitchens.
It’s empty at this time of night, the dying embers of the fireplace the only source of light. Soonyoung uses every last bit of his thievery to manage to find a basket of dough balls, the syrup more readily available at the table in the centre.
The tingling in your brain can’t seem to decipher the overwhelming happiness that floods you from the ends of your hair to the tips of your toes. Especially when you call out his name amidst his shuffling, your heart can’t take the grin on his face as he hurries to join on the floor in front of the fireplace.
Arm looped through his own and your head on his shoulder, you decide you’d be quite okay dying like this.
The dough balls are cold and the syrup is probably a little too sweet, but you can’t possibly complain when it warms you just the same.
“I’ve despised my name my entire life,” Soonyoung starts in the silence, picking at the insides of his treat. “Some old merchant sailor was giving his ship away in exchange that the taker would take care of it. He’d built his Tigress from the first board to the last sail, but the years had made their mark. It was practically falling apart when I took it off his hands.”
He pushes the remaining bit of the pastry into his mouth, muffled as he continues, “He had a strange name, said it was given to him by his crew when they realised he was born without a name. Hoshi. I liked it well enough so I kept it.”
“Soonyoung—”
“That one. I wanted to replace the name I loathed, the one my own mother gave me.” You watch as his throat bobs as he swallows. “Ash is my birthplace, my mother worked in the brothels where I was born only because she couldn’t get rid of me.”
Taking one of the hands that wrap around his arm, he brings your fingers to your mouth, kissing the tips of each one. “I despised that name, until I heard it from your lips.”
“Soonyoung.” It felt right on your tongue, like you were destined to say his name.
“Yes, my love?” He smiles softly.
“I love you.”
“I love you more,” he says as he kisses you again. “Thank you for keeping my name, thank you for giving it life.”
You take the opportunity to grab one of the syrup soaked dough balls from the basket and stuff them into his mouth. “Enough, don’t tell me all this luxury’s made you soft.”
It was a jab but a lighthearted one in any case, you loved to see this side of him and you doubt you would ever get enough of seeing him like this. Vulnerable with his softer smiles and squinted eyes.
Bringing one of your digits to your mouth, you suck the remaining syrup off your fingers.
Soonyoung is quick to take notice as he takes your hand and brings your fingers up to his mouth, running his tongue over the pads of your fingers to take in the remaining sugar left on your fingers.
He keeps his eyes locked onto yours as he sucks on the tips of your fingers, making sure every last hint of sweetness is gone.
And then he’s kissing you, tongue in your mouth as he moves against your lips slowly.
Breaking apart, you whisper, “As much as I’d love to, the bakers will be coming in any minute now.”
Soonyoung’s grin is dangerous, and you find out why the minute you feel his arms loop around your waist and under your thighs, lifting you clean off the floor of the kitchens.
You squeal before you can help it, his lips finding home in your neck as you laugh as loud as your chest would allow.
You could get used to this. And you will.
THE SERVANTS CARRYING THE giant stack of plates nearly topple over when you sprint past them, yelling a loud apology over your shoulder as you do nothing but hasten your pace.
The paper in your hands is clutched tight in your fists as you run to where your carriage awaits, near yelling at the driver to make it to the docks before the streets would be full of the early morning merchants and bakers, slowing the gallops of the decorated horses.
The town is waking as your carriage races past, the beginnings of the new day making itself known as the sun peers through the gaps of the houses. You’re incapable of sitting still, your heels tapping against the floors of your cabin incessantly as the docks grow nearer and nearer.
And then you see it, the rush of dock handlers that see the royal carriage slow to a stop in front of the boardwalk. You slam the door open before any of the tens could do it for you, breaking into a sprint as you find the distinct flag of the royal crest wave high on the other end of the docks.
You had already seen Soonyoung off in the dark of the night as he made his way to the ship that was near ready to depart as you slide to stop in front of the anchored ship.
There was nothing sane about what you were doing, the chortles and shocked noises of sailors and merchants deaf to ears as you finally spot him near the prow.
His eyes meet yours and he has to do a double take.
Panting and needing to hold onto your knees for support, you peer up as you watch him run towards the ramp that leads down to the docks to see you, to ask why you were here when he’d kissed you goodbye mere hours ago.
By the time he meets you at the wobbly boardwalk, you’ve somewhat recovered.
“Are you alright?” he asks you as soon as you’re within earshot, hands grasping onto your upper arms in evident concern.
“I had to tell you, this came in right after you left.” You brandish the paper clutched into your fist, smoothing it over as the light catches the red stamp at the bottom.
It takes him less than a minute to realise what it said, eyes blinking rapidly and mouth gaping like a fish. “They…They said yes?”
“They said yes,” you repeat, nodding furiously as you break into a smile. “We can get married, Soonyoung, they said yes.”
His arms are crushing you before you know it, wrapped around you so tight as he buries his face into your neck, repeating it like a mantra, “They said yes…”
By the time you part, he keeps his arms around you, still embracing you in front of the entire port. You take hold of his face bringing it closer to you.
“Three months, and then you come home,” you breathe. “And I get to marry you, in front of everyone.”
Soonyoung lets his lips meet your own in a chaste kiss as he corrects you, “I get to marry you in front of everyone.”
There’s a thud of something nearby, and you look up to find the crew of the Tigress hanging over the railings of the newly appointed naval ship that looked suspiciously like a pirate’s.
“He can’t come back home, if he doesn’t leave!” Seungkwan yells over cupped hands.
You’d like to send him an affectionate gesture involving your middle finger, but choose to save him in front of the crowded port.
“You’ll miss me, Seungkwan, just you wait,” you send him a pointed glare that he simply scoffs at.
He might miss you, but you’ll definitely miss the lot of them when you return to a significantly emptier palace.
“Don’t let the royal snobs walk over you, you’re a better sailor anyway,” you tell Soonyoung. “Not that I needed to tell you, anyway.”
“I promise on our future wedding to be a complete menace.” He grins at the declaration as you admire him in the morning light.
One last time, you memorise the dips and hills of his features, pressing your final kiss into his lips as the voices telling him to hurry it up grow louder.
He blows you a kiss from the railings as the anchor is hoisted, and you send him one right back.
As your carriage trudges its path back to the palace, at a pace more acceptable for both the stamina of the horses and the integrity of the structure, your eyes remain glued to the shrinking ship that fades into the distant horizon.
There’s a pang in your chest, one that brings a tear to your eyes. It’s all very dramatic, the way the melancholy makes a home in your heart. An inkling tells you how you’ll probably become quite used to the feeling, learn to greet it like a friend.
For now you enter the lighter palace, and take your place on the chair in your study and find solace in the ideas your mind brings.
That no matter how long Soonyoung will remain far from you, he will always come back home to you.
Always.
[AN]: ty for joining my babies on their journey, i cannot thank you all enough for reading all 48fuckingK words of this i love you guys truly!!! thank you for all the reblogs and comments on the other parts, it makes me genuinely so happy to see you guys enjoy this universe that i've built. I read every single comment and know i appreciate all of it so so much <3
#svthub#hoshi fluff#hoshi smut#hoshi angst#hoshi fic#hoshi imagines#hoshi x reader#hoshi#soonyoung smut#soonyoung fluff#soonyoung scenarios#soonyoung imagines#soonyoung x reader#seventeen#soonyoung#seventeen flluff#seventeen smut#seventeen angst#seventeen fic recs#svt#svt smut#svt fluff#svt imagines#svt scenarios#svt x reader#em.writes
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Love you with all my heart.
Synopsis : Loveless marriage can be so easy yet so difficult. Which one is yours?
Word count : 3,228
pairing : Kwon Soonyoung x fem!reader
genre : contract marriage, arranged marriage!au, one-sided enemy, strangers to one-sided enemy to exes to lovers!au (it's so much), angst, fluff, slight suggestive at the end.
warnings : tears, italic means flashback, chaebol!soonyoung, chaebol!reader, ceo!soonyoung, neurosurgeon!reader, slight mingyu & wonwoo x reader (seperated), some curse word (i guess..), Soonyoung being a jerk, mention of alcohol consumption, this fic does not represent his character in real life!
a.n : ngl, i'm in tears while writing this, i wanna punch Soonyoung in the face. i recommend reading this fic with this playlist.
“What do you think of this dress? isn't it beautiful?” Soo-jung says while showing one of the wedding dresses in her collection.
Soo-jung has been your best friend for as long as you can remember. You first met at your kindergarten and started talking from then with both of your parents also being friends.
You and her have different passions when you enter high school. She's been saying that when she grows up, she wants to be a designer, whereas you want to be a neurosurgeon.
“hello? y/n! Why are you always zoning out everytime we do this? Do you want to call off the marriage? is still early, i'll come along with you to your parents” concern is evident on her face, i mean, her best friend is in an arranged marriage, of course she will support her no matter what her decision.
To you, marriage is something so sacred and marriage can only be achieved by two people who love each other deeply, outwardly and inwardly.
you started to feel tears coming to both of your eyes, you look at Soo-jung with your now teary eyes, she immediately holds both of your shoulders.
you let out a few sobs before opening your mouth, “i don't think i can do this, we met earlier for brunch, he looks so mad Jung” you cried. you never be the one who complained when your parents decided something for you, but the words he threw at you at brunch made you realize that this marriage was a mistake to begin with.
Soo-jung nods at your words and brings you to her hug, she knows that your soon-to-be husband in contract is a jerk because she met him a few days prior in the gala that your family throws, and she also knew that every word that left his mouth will scratch your pure soul and heart.
Kwon Soonyoung is your fiancé, he's the son of one of the biggest real estate companies in South korea. you first met him while attending a gala for the CEOs of every big company.
Soonyoung is a quiet kid, everyone usually socializes with other nepo kids, but he's not, he's alone at the table with a glass of champagne in his hand.
You never really talk to him. only seeing him while you're with your parents, and you were not expecting that he's the one you're going to marry.
Soo-jung decided that today has been a bad day for you and you will discuss this again tomorrow.
“listen here, i do not want this marriage, i have tried to call off the wedding but my parents won't let me,” Soonyoung says after he sipped the coffee that he had ordered, he opens his mouth again, “so don't expect me to love you, give you attention when we're alone and with our family, we have to act when we’re on a party or gala, other than that don't try to get along with me”
Soonyoung throws a few hundred dollar bills to your table while you're lowering your head, this marriage is not on your bingo card this year, you feel humiliated with the eyes on the restaurant goes to you.
You know you should tell this to your parents, but their hopes are sending you into a debate inside your head. They really want this marriage to happen, so both companies can merge into one powerful duo.
[ఇ ◝‿◜ ఇ]
It's now your wedding day, a lot has happened before this wedding is settled, like when soonyoung always scoffs whenever you get near him because your parents and his want it.
You have discussed your marriage with Soo-jung, and you have decided that if he is a jerk to you, then he's gonna receive the same treatment.
The music starts to play, the door in front of you starts to open slowly, with your father by your side, and Soo-jung behind you to help you with the veil.
You can already see your mother and your in-laws waiting for you, the photographer and videographer waiting on the side of the aisle to catch one of the supposedly precious moments of your entire life.
and there's Soonyoung, with his stoic expression waiting for you to be with him on the aisle, sharing your vows for the loveless marriage you'll have.
After your father leaves you, Soonyoung starts to say his vows, he said it with such expression, a tear from your left eye begins to fall, it's not a happy one, but a sad one.
[ఇ ◝‿◜ ఇ]
“Uhh, doctor y/n? Maybe you need to check the trash bin in front of the operating room, because I think you lost your marriage ring” one of the nurse— Yoon Jeonghan, says to you.
you began to panic, searching everywhere of your body in hope to find your ring. your eyes widening after you realize that you can't find it, you start to run across the hall, going straight to the operating room.
and lucky for you, you immediately found it. It's in the pocket of your operating gown. when you start to check your ring for any blood splatter on it, you remind yourself, the day when you bought this ring with Soonyoung.
“What do you think of this one? Do you like it?” You asked Soonyoung, except he doesn't even turn his head to you or the ring. He focuses on his phone.
Your tiny smile dropped. You think that maybe, just maybe, he can try to at least pick the ring with you. Well, god knows you're wrong.
in the end of the day, you have to video call Soo-jung to help you pick the right ring, because all Soonyoung said is, “i don't care, just pick one, i'll leave now, have a meeting”
which led to the employee giving you a sympathetic gaze and smile, and you reciprocated it by smiling sadly.
you feel your nostalgic time being cut when one of the neurosurgeons— doctor Jeon Wonwoo, starts to call your name.
and from then, you start to catch up a little bit more and more.
you got promoted as the professor a few months later, but you still feel empty. You've dreamed of this every single day of your life.
the hospital you're working at now, throwing a company dinner to congratulate you by eating in a korean bbq restaurant because apparently the CEO wants to make you try the restaurant for the first time.
the home you can't ever call it by its name welcoming you with cool air, Doctor Jeon kindly giving you a ride home.
you take off your shoes and start to walk to your bedroom, you pass Soonyoung's room in the process, and you freeze when you hear his sleepy mumbles.
he's calling someone, that you're sure, a name that belongs to a girl, and that's when you feel it, the aches of being rejected again, by Kwon Soonyoung himself.
you closed the door behind you, “i never be the one who makes you do things like that, am i? Am I that bad in your eyes?” You said to yourself, holding your tears back.
You tried, you really really tried to ignore the feelings you had (have) for the man in the different bedroom.
You think you can do it, but ignoring your long-time feelings seems to be more difficult than you think.
Yes, you admitted. Kwon Soonyoung and you have been into the same school, you realize that after the first meeting with him at the gala, and you got assigned together for a project, and that's when you started to develop feelings for him.
“Why can't I just forget him? Why do I have to pick up the broken pieces of my heart and let him break it all over again?” You let out a sobs full of tears, you sat before the bed, and that's when you made up your mind.
you're going to divorce him.
sooner or later, this marriage will consume you fully and make you depressed. The marriage is on their downfall.
So you packed your things in your designer suitcase, and started to call Soo-jung.
“hi, sorry for bothering you late at night. Can I come over to your house? And sleep for a few days there? i just made up my mind and i don't think i can be here anymore” hearing your sobs, Soo-jung accepted your request almost immediately, she knew what decision you have made because you've talked to her a few days before.
[ఇ ◝‿◜ ఇ]
Soonyoung is quite confused when he doesn't see you in the morning, because usually you're always making breakfast before going to work.
and that's happening for the next 2 weeks. he grows relentlessly, wants to know what's wrong that makes you go away from home for 2 weeks straight.
Not so long after he got lost in his thoughts, the house bell is ringing, and Soonyoung is thinking it may be you.
Oh boy, so wrong he was. It's your lawyer, standing so highly in front of him with his briefcase. Soonyoung frowned and furrowed his eyebrows, not expecting this visit.
they settle down on the sofa, and your lawyer start to take the divorce paper from his briefcase, “your wife told me she wants to have a divorce with you, this is the paper, you can sign it here” he says calmly, Soonyoung look at the man with puzzled expression evident on his face.
“My client asked me to do this for her. She can’t imagine if she has face to face with you” he continues, and gives his pen to Soonyoung.
There is it, the aches Soonyoung has long forgotten is now coming back, he already started to develop a feeling for you, again.
Yes, he's not wrong, again. Soonyoung met you at high school and started to develop feelings for you when you're in college.
back in college, you've been popular among college students since your sophomore year. Having a student as smart as you was a blessing to the campus.
Soonyoung met you again at a café, he wants to call your name, but someone beats it.
He turned his head to the person. That's when he saw the person he hated the most since 6th grade, Kim Mingyu.
He gets heartbroken when he sees Mingyu smiling at you and kissing your lips when he's already in front of you.
That day should be a good day for him because he wants to start a relationship with you, and maybe that will lead him to have more relationships than friends.
Since then, that feeling started to turn upside down, he's no longer admiring you, he's in denial for years, and always said to himself that he hates you, until the end of his time.
When he heard that you're going to be the one he marries, he's a little excited until he remembers your memories.
He wants to hold you close in his arms when you're crying. He wants to say sorry again and again and again for the hurtful words and actions he threw at you.
It hurts to see you act so cold with him when the marriage starts, and maybe, this was really the end of it all.
Your relationship will never work.
[ఇ ◝‿◜ ఇ]
Today is the final court of your divorce, Soonyoung is in awe when he sees you in your outfit.
White button up with blue stripe adorning your body, white trousers, brown leather belts, and a white lady dior completing your overall outfit.
The sound of your heels touching the ground can be heard by everyone in the hall. you're great at hiding your nervousness.
You can see Soonyoung with his stoic expression as always, waiting for the courtroom door to be open.
And it's finally over. Your marriage is over. All these years, you've been hiding your feelings for him, wanting him to finally love you, is over.
you're not even sure if this marriage has ever started.
Soo-jung rushed towards you when she parked her car, calling your name with her concerned expression.
“y/n! Are you okay? How are you feeling? Do you wanna go somewhere?” she said while approaching you.
Soonyoung saw you and your best friend in the distance, regret started to fill up his body, as tears began to huddle in his eyes.
[ఇ ◝‿◜ ఇ]
“so, I heard that you're a single doctor now. How's it feeling?” the interviewer asked you, made you hitch your breath.
but you perfectly hid it with a small smile, “our marriage was not that simple, we're in an arranged marriage, i feel a little excited when i saw who's i'm going to marry, because i have develop feelings for him before this even started, he’s one of my patient that i operate 5 years ago, and he's on the same high school as me.
My feelings are not reciprocated, and i think he might've hated me from years prior, that time, i'm sure that i can make him, at least bear with me, but i was wrong, everything i do is wrong to him,” tears started to gather in your eyes, even if you want to forget your bad relationship, you can't.
“So I made up my mind, when the marriage starts, I act ignorant to him in the hope that maybe he will talk to me about something or anything, he's not. Everyday feels heavy, and after a few months, I gave up, i can’t handle it anymore, so I filed a divorce paper via my lawyer to him”
After you say that, the host starts trying to calm you down, feeling guilty, but you just tell her that it’s okay, and she doesn't have to say sorry.
Soonyoung watches from his office, watching your tv shows are the only medicine that can heal his guilt and longing for you.
“Mr. Kwon? Would you like to cancel your meeting?” His assistants said with hesitance. The meeting should have started 10 minutes from now, but his boss seems to be deep in his thoughts.
after a few seconds, Soonyoung replied to him, “cancel and reschedule all my meetings for next week, i need to go somewhere”
he hurriedly grabs his coat and runs to the elevator. When he's inside, he lets out a big sigh.
Soonyoung went to his driver and asked for the key of his car. His driver wanted to refuse his request, but Soonyoung just gave him his infamous sharp gaze.
“pick up pick up pick up” he said when he's already in the driver's seat and started to call your best friend, Soo-jung.
“hello?” the person on the other side says.
Soonyoung's heart is pounding loudly, “hi, Soo-jung, this is Soonyoung” he can already see that Soo-jung wants to hang up on him, so he acts fast.
“Wait, don't hang up yet, i regret everything i've done to y/n, and i need you to tell me where she is” he says, sounding so desperate.
Soo-jung gave up. She wants you to have a happy ending, but Soonyoung sounds like he will end his life if not given your location.
“She's on her penthouse, Roosevelt penthouse, 90th floor, tell the receptionist that you're a guy whose y/n family sent,” Soo-jung said before she continues, “don't make me fucking regret this, Kwon Soonyoung”
“I won't”
Soonyoung drives at full speed. This is an urgent emergency for him.
He's finally in front of your door, but he's too scared to hit the bell on your door. He won't give up like he always does, so he pushes the button, and not long after, the intercom starts to let out your beautiful voice.
“Wait a second!”
He can imagine you rushing to open your door, and that is happening right now.
“Hi– Soonyoung?” You flabbergasted by his presence, ready to close your door.
“Wait! don't close it, i want to talk something with you” he says, with pleading eyes.
So you let him go inside of your Penthouse, and guide him to your living room.
“Talk” you said while looking straight at him.
“I want to say sorry for all of my actions and words I threw on you back then, I don't know what I'm doing. i loathed you since i saw you have a relationship with Mingyu. My heart gets broken every time i remember it.
I've hated mingyu's guts since 6th grade, I shouldn't have hated you too. You don't deserve it. I've liked you since the sophomore year of our college. i tried to ignore that feelings, even when our parents said that we're going to be married, I feel excited at that time, but when I remembered your relationship with Mingyu I tried not to give you any attention so my feelings can be ignored, but it's hard, it's hard when you look beautiful every single day, going to work, cooking breakfast.
I came here after I saw your tv show, and I realized that I'm not hurting you with only my actions, but my words too. i love you, y/n” he says, tears start to pool in his eyes, and they start to fall from his right eye.
“but the name you're calling on your sleep, it's—
he cuts you off, “I'm calling you, y/n. i used to call you with your last name, Han y/n, maybe you don't realize it” he says.
“So please, forgive me, I would do anything you want me to do, just so you can give me a second chance and be with me forever, once again” with a sobs, he starts to kneel in front of you.
You get up from your couch to grab his shoulders and hurry him to get up.
When he does, you crash your lips with him, which he reapprociate your kiss.
“I love you, y/n” he says between the kisses that start to get hotter by any second.
“I love you too, Soonyoung”
[ఇ ◝‿◜ ఇ]
“How's your relationship with Soonyoung?” Soo-jung asks while sipping her wine. It's been a few weeks since the ‘Soonyoung kneeling before you’ tragedy.
“It's been great. He's really putting efforts to fix our broken relationship” you said with a wide grin, remembering all your memories together for the past week.
Soonyoung has taken a break from his office life to fully focus on you. He even brought you to every place special to him, including his grandfather's grave.
“Glad to hear that, he calls me and sounds so desperate while asking me where's your location that time” you laugh it off with her, and your conversation gets longer than you intended.
At the end of the night, you're drunk, so Soo-jung has to call Soonyoung to pick you up, using your phone, which Soonyoung answers almost immediately.
“Kwon Soonyoung, i love you” you mumbles drunkenly when Soonyoung finally puts you on the passenger seat.
“I love you too, sweetheart” Soonyoung replied with a kiss on your forehead, he gives you a bottle of water to sober up a little.
When you both reach your shared home, you spend no time kissing Soonyoung's lips full of passion and lust as soon as he gets the door closed.
And that leads to other intimate activities to help you feel good and up all night.
#seventeen x reader#seventeen scenarios#seventeen#seventeen angst#kwon soonyoung#kwon soonyoung x reader#soonyoung x reader#hoshi#hoshi x reader#hoshi angst#kml.writes☆#seventeen au
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Penance Chapter 2 Teaser - Full Chapter coming 6/12
Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader
Teaser Words: 1,716
Chapter Warnings: Swearing, a little bit of angst, some fluff, mentions of death, mentions of injuries, mentions of canon violence
Summary: ❝Thesus: Stop. Give me your hand. I am your friend.
Herakles: I fear to stain your clothes with blood.
Thesus: Stain them. I don’t care.❞
It’s been a month and a half since Crane’s reign of terror was stopped, leaving Gotham to finally return to normal. But, what is normal? After everything Jason and you have been through, it seems normal might be some unobtainable dream state. But that’s not going to stop either of you from trying and maybe, you’ll get lucky in the end. At the end of it, the two of you have suffered enough, right?
Right?
A/N: I'm having problems with my taglist?? I'm trying desperately to get it to work properly so please bear with me lol I'm always going to post some sort of update when this fic will be posted just in case so you can search my blog under "penance" if you haven't been tagged in anything in a week!! A teaser or chapter will be posted every week!! You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭
Jason heads out to find Tim, daunting his Red Hood gear and helmet. The drive isn’t too far from his safe house but it is raining tonight, on and off. Yesterday was nice, warm and no rain. It's a bit of a depressing contrast between the two days. The street lights reflect off the wet pavement and Jason isn't entirely sure what he's going to do when he gets there. All he knows is Tim will probably need help and he'll just take it from there. It's not exactly how he wants to approach any situation but he's not sure what Tim will even be doing.
Jason pulls up to a building across the street from an alley where some, surely, illegal deal of sorts is going down. Apparently, Tim is supposed to be here eventually so Jason parks the bike in the dark of his alley before he uses a grappling hook to get to the roof of the building just so he can see better. And then he waits.
Meanwhile, you've made your place on the roof overlooking the alley with the van, knowing this is where Tim will be. And you can’t help but feel excited to see him. You miss him a lot even if it is a little hard to be happy it's under the circumstances of Robin. There's also the bit of dread and excitement over seeing Jason, working with Jason.
Seeing him means there's going to have to be some sort of conversation over the two of you being unable to pick up a phone and call each other. There's going to be some sort of conversation about everything that happened. It's going to bring back all of the pain all over again. Will you even be able to pick up where you left off? Or will you fall into an awkward dance where you both just fumble over each other until Tim leaves? Or will it be worse? But, seeing him, being around him, always felt the most like home and you really hope he's okay and happy. You're excited just to see how he's doing.
You're laying on your stomach to take cover while you watch over the ledge but your fingers tap wildly against the pavement at the thought. It’s the hope this goes okay, that he doesn’t hate you. That Tim is happy to see you both. That Tim doesn’t get killed in the first five minutes of being Robin. Excitement, dread, and anxiety flood your system. Why did you agree to this?
Commotion starts from below you and you see Tim on the top of a car while the goons are loading their van. Even in the low light, you can tell the suit is a little different than Jason's and Dick's. The cape definitely is with its jagged edges and it's longer. It fits him actually. You stand on the edge of the roof, grappling hook in hand and knife in the other, ready to slide down the second things get out of hand.
Tim handles himself okay at first but then they outnumber him and they’re faster than he is and better. You know Tim has had a few training sessions but by the looks of it, they could not have been very long or helpful. Things start looking pretty bad for him so you use the grappling hook to lower yourself down but before your feet even hit solid ground, shots ring through the alley, taking out one of the men and then the other. Just as your feet hit the ground, you nail the last one with a knife, turning to face down the alley with your arms crossed. And there he is, walking confidently with a gun in hand.
Of course, he beat you to it.
Jason's eyes widen behind his helmet. He did not expect to see you tonight. Kind of like last night, seeing you throws him off. It's a bit jarring somehow. Gotham might be a big city but you travel in the same circles, it was bound to happen. Just...two nights in a row seems...odd.
“I had that covered.” You state through your mask.
Jason can taste his heartbeat in his throat as he keeps closing the distance between you. Your mask always muffled your voice a little but it's still his favorite sound. He can feel his cheeks burning and a smile desperate to cross his lips. Jason bites it back, trying to keep his composure.
“Where the fuck did you even come from?” Jason quips back.
You point to the roof. “Clearly. And you?” You question, keeping your voice flat and curious, trying to conceal your own nerves.
Jason points a thumb over his shoulder. “Clearly.” He echoes as he stands next to you.
It all clicks then, this was definitely a setup by Dick. Of all fucking people, Dick Grayson is doing this shit? Jason swears up and down this is getting ridiculous. Bruce, Molly, Gar, Dick? They are all trying to get them to communicate and...maybe they have a point even if Jason never wants to admit it. Not when two of those people are Bruce and Dick. But, he can’t focus on that or how this is sending his head into a tailspin.
He needs to help Tim which means he can't let his feelings for you get in the way even if ignoring them is one of the hardest things he's ever done. He has to act normal and like being next to you doesn't make him want to explode. He needs to keep his cool, keep the smile from ripping apart his lips because even if this is a setup and he should be mad, he misses you so fucking much it physically pains him. He can't find himself to be mad because you'll never abandon Tim so even if you don't speak to Jason while you help him, at least he gets to see you as you. Like old times even if it doesn’t last and for that, Jason is happy.
Jason reaches behind his head, releasing the helmet before he takes it off and you swear you swallowed your heart. He looks so good. “Who the fuck are you supposed to be?” Jason calls, eyes locked on Tim and you think you've melted at the sound of his voice.
His voice is somehow better than you remember it. A little calloused, a little rough, but not too deep. It always fit him so well and you've never been so thankful to have a mask that covers the lower half of your mouth because your lips are curling into the most uncontrollable smile. Every piece of reservation you had about seeing him completely flies out of the window.
Jason Todd has always had his type of gravitation pull like a planet lost in the universe and you've just been sucked right back into it.
You miss him so fucking much.
Tim looks down to his chest, right at the R symbol before he looks back to Jason. “I’m Robin.” Tim states as if Jason should have known.
The subtle hint of a smile comes over Jason’s lips seeing someone else in the Robin suit. It’s weird because it almost feels…hurtful. It hurts a little seeing someone else in a position where he was, not in a jealous way but in a way that he is reminded that was him. He was Robin and he fucked up and now he’s not. It hurts in the way he’s reminded of it being ripped away from his bloody hands. The suit is different, Jason clocks almost every difference in the first few seconds but it is similar. Jason was beaten to death in something similar with the same mantle. There’s almost this part of him that even worries about it. Robin didn’t work for Dick. He didn’t die as Robin but it didn’t work for him. Jason was killed. Where’s that going to leave Tim?
On the other hand though, there is something about someone else taking up Robin that feels good. Jason died but Robin didn’t. Robin never had to die with Jason and he shouldn’t. The people need a Robin and he doesn’t really know Tim but you do and Gar does. He trusts you both and Tim looks thrilled to be here. It’s a mix but there is something kind of nice seeing the resurrection of Robin.
“Hey.” You chime as you walk closer to him.
Tim’s smile splits his face. “Hey, how’d you know I’d be here?”
“Molly tracked you the second a Robin showed up. Knew it was you.” You laugh softly before you pull him into a gentle hug. “You should have told me.” You say as you pull away, your hands coming to his shoulders as you look over the suit, noticing all the difference between this one and Jason’s.
“Yeah, I thought I could handle this.” Tim chuckles sheepishly, realizing he was a little in over his head tonight but not lacking in any of his confidence to do this job.
“Clearly, you were wrong.” Jason closes the distance between you. “You’re lucky we showed up when we did.” Jason stands right beside you as you drop your hands from his shoulders, maybe you looking over the suit makes him want to chew his tongue out of his mouth.
“Yeah, I got that.” Tim nods his head. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” The smile reaches your eyes as you beam back at Tim.
Jason’s eyes narrow at you slightly. You seem awfully happy. He knows Tim is your friend but you just seem overly happy or maybe he’s in his own head about it. He just remembers that day picking you up from Titans Tower and it was...similar. It's like he's getting stabbed in the chest and the base of his throat knowing you were not happy to see him tonight. The very thought of your feelings disappearing makes him feel like his rib cage might collapse on itself. So, he pushes it away as far as he possibly can and bites back his own words, trying to just be relieved you look happy instead of pissed off Dick set you up. He’s just thankful you haven’t run away. Yet.
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series masterlist | masterlist | tag list
#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#red hood x reader#red hood x you#jason todd fanfic#jason todd fanfiction#titans fanfic#titans fanfiction#dc fanfic#dc fanfiction#penance
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Oh ok. He's actually kinda hot
Trope: dilf!Yunho x babysitter!amab!reader
I decided to do something different. Most babysitter fics always have the babysitter as a female rather than a male. So lemme try my hand at this shit lol
@newworldnet
@blossomnet
Thank you to @bunnliix and @holybibly for helping me out with the partial synopsis set up of this fic. <3
Includes: slight mentions of coercion, mainly fluff, some spiciness in terms of thoughts and actions but nothing that is nsfw, some angst
"MINGI, SO HELP ME GOD! PUT ME THE FUCK DOWN NOW!"
All you received was boisterous laughter on your end and a smack to your butt. You tried to punch whoever smacked your booty, but since you were hoisted over one of Mingi's broad shoulders, you didn't get a good look at who smacked your butt. However, you had a solid idea.
As you approach a big mansion, Mingi finally set you down and you proceeded to try and beat the ass of the person that smacked your butt.
Jung Wooyoung, your best friend.
"Oh come on now, y/n! Don't be such a sourpuss!"
"Especially since you have to babysit my best friend's daughters soon."
"I have to WHAT?!"
Wooyoung broke out in his iconic high-pitched laugh while Mingi was wheezing. You, on the other hand, were fuming.
"I did not sign up for this fuck ass babysitting job! Let me go now before -"
Mingi cut you off by ringing the doorbell multiple times. Then, he took Wooyoung's hand and sprinted away as fast as he could.
"YOU SON OF A BITCH! I'MMA MESS UP YOUR DAMN ROOM AND COVER IT WITH FAKE SPIDERS WHEN YOU GET HOME FROM WORK!"
Even though they were far away to hear your threat, a new presence behind you chuckled smoothly and you froze momentarily before turning around and looking up slowly.
Oh.
So this is Mingi's best friend.
You gulped at the taller man before you and gave him a good once over.
He was wearing a regular suit and tie and his dark brown hair was swept back. He wasn't as broad as Mingi but he was still a bit lean with some muscle here and there. His warm brown eyes stared down at you in curiosity as he stuck a hand out for you to shake.
Said hand was big and veiny and his fingers were so nice to look at. You wondered what they would feel like wrapped around your throat -
'STOP IT, Y/N! PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER! HE'S PROBABLY MARRIED!'
"But there's no ring though...'
'It doesn't matter! He probably doesn't even like guys that way so just stop!'
You snapped out of your daze for a moment and shook the older man's hand.
"Uh... hi. I'm Y/N Hong. I'm Mingi's cousin. And I guess I'm your new babysitter. Sorry if I'm super awkward right now. I didn't expect myself to land a babysitting job, but I'm more than willing to accept it since I do technically need a job and -"
The older man shushed you gently to stop your rambling and smiled kindly before allowing you to enter his beautiful home.
"By the way, my name is Jeong Yunho."
His deep voice rumbled throughout the emptiness of the house and it sent a pleasant shiver down your spine.
EVEN HIS NAME SOUNDED SEXY!
You turned around and smiled sheepishly before you saw him gesturing to a table. You assumed he wanted to interview you before he considered you for the job. You sat down at the table and he sat across from you before pulling out something from his briefcase.
When did you submit a resume?!
"Let's see here... Y/N Hong, 23 years old, graduated with a bachelor's degree in computer science. Currently unemployed as of the moment. Last job was at some tech company. You were let go due to... huh. Incompetence and refusal to take orders?"
Yunho was confused at that last part as he continued to speak and assess you.
"Based on your skills, it seemed you had a good understanding of the job environment and you were able to make a lot of money off this job. There must be some reason as to why you were let go."
You sighed and clutched the cardigan that you were wearing close to you. It was useless since it was loose and a part of it fell off your shoulder, causing some skin to be revealed. Yunho spotted this and he gulped nervously as sinful thoughts entered his mind.
'God he's so perfect. So pure and free of anyone that would dare corrupt him. Maybe I can be the one to make him my dirty angel...'
'No, stop it, Yunho! He's young! He would never settle for an old man such as yourself...'
He swallowed down the thoughts as he listened to you speak tentatively on why you were let go.
"Long story short, apparently my old boss had a crush on me back in the day and she asked me out. I politely declined her and told her I'm gay. She was confused but then she tried to 'persuade' me into giving her one chance to which I blatantly said no. She got angry and tried one more time, yet I shut her down with ease. In the end, she grew petty and fired me."
Yunho grew angry upon hearing the real reason for you being fired but he remained calm since you appeared to be unbothered by it.
"I'm so sorry to hear that, Y/N. I'm glad to hear that you stood up for yourself but saddened to hear that it cost you your job."
"It's ok, sir. Karma backed me up since then. I read this morning that my old company's stocks have crashed and my boss got fired since someone reported her."
Yunho heard the happiness in your voice and his heart swelled with adoration for you. He stood up and stuck out his hand once more.
"You got the job, Y/N. Let me give the breakdown on how to take care of my three bundles of joy."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This babysitting job was easier than you would've expected. And it paid even more than your last job.
Yumi was the eldest of the three. She was six years old and a social butterfly just like her dad. And she was surprisingly mature for such a young age as well. You treated her more like an adult rather than a child and she was ok with that.
Yunju was the middle child of the three. She was three years old and a bit more on the shyer side, yet she warmed up to you right away. Your heart swelled up in adoration when the two sisters playfully fought out who got to play with you next.
Chanmi was the youngest of the three and was actually adopted. The little baby was abandoned by her parents and your heart broke a little when Yunho told you the story of how she came about. You were glad that Yunho adopted her and you were even more glad that you were taking care of her.
Yumi was busy putting Chanmi down for her nap so Yunju took the opportunity to get to know you better since Yumi already got to talk to you as soon as her dad left.
"So Yumi told me you were gay... what does that mean?"
You let out a slight laugh and grinned at the way Yunju tilted her head in curiosity.
"So you know how guys like girls in a romantic sense? Well, it's the same thing but instead of me liking girls, I like guys instead."
"Oh! So whenever you see a cute boy pass by, you get butterflies in your tummy?!"
"Something like that yes."
Yunho definitely gave you a lot more than just butterflies when you laid eyes upon him.
Yunju's eyes widened even more and she started bouncing up and down on the couch.
"So does that mean that you get butterflies whenever you're around daddy?!"
You almost spit out the tea that you were drinking but you composed yourself. You had no idea what to say to that. Luckily, you didn't have to since Yumi came around the corner and sat in between you two.
"Come on, Yunju! It's time to take a nap."
"But I want to hear more about Mr. Hong's fe-"
"And you will! Later though. You know you get cranky when you don't take a nap. Come on now."
Yunju pouted before sighing dramatically in defeat and climbing off the couch before sprinting to her room. Yumi sighed and looked at you.
"Sorry about her. She's just excited to finally have a babysitter that accepts all of us." She smiled sadly while you grew confused.
"Wait... what do you mean?" Your voice grew soft with concern as Yumi sighed.
"Before you came along, Mommy and Daddy were in love. But as soon as Daddy became the CEO of his company, that love started to disappear. They started fighting and I had to cover Yunju's ears since she's sensitive to loud noises so I had to be the one to endure the shouting and constant arguing. One day, Daddy came home and... and..."
She sniffled as she tried to get the words out while you remained patient and even gave her a tissue to use so she could wipe away her tears. Your heart was breaking every minute she spoke of how her family came to be.
"Daddy found Mommy with weird papers in her hand and all her bags at her side. Daddy was heartbroken when Mommy said something about divorce and how he never has time for her or something like that. After Daddy signed the papers, Mommy took them and left us. She... she didn't even say goodbye!"
Yumi was full on crying and you fought hard to keep your anger to yourself so you could focus on comforting the six-year-old. Despite the maturity that she displayed, she was still a young child at the end of the day that yearned for a complete family. Through her choked sobs, she kept speaking.
"From there, a lot of babysitters came and went. They were fine with Yunju and I at first, but when Chanmi came into the picture, that's where it went downhill again. They couldn't handle the screaming and crying of little baby Chanmi apparently which is stupid! Chanmi is just a baby!"
She huffed and crossed her arms to which you found adorable, but then you remembered one of Yunho's rules and you spoke softly to Yumi.
"I understand how you feel, but your dad doesn't want you saying words like that. Yunju might catch on and maybe Chanmi as well." You lectured her lightly and almost laughed when you saw the embarrassment on her face.
"Oh my goodness! I'm so sorry, Mr. Hong! I couldn't help it!" She whined and you chuckled softly before patting her head affectionately.
"It's ok. As long as you don't do it again, I'll let it slide. And I won't tell your dad."
Yumi nodded and a smile broke out on your face as she kept speaking.
"As I was saying, most babysitters never fully accepted the three of us. Until you came along. I know it's early, but I want you to stay for as long as you can. I like you, Yunju likes you, and Chanmi likes you. She hasn't cried the entire time you were here!"
Yumi hugged you tightly and you hugged her back. Yumi let out a small yawn and you chuckled to yourself.
"Why don't you take a nap this time? I'll keep an eye out for your younger siblings?"
Yumi nodded and placed her head in your lap before snoring lightly. You shrugged off your cardigan and draped it over her before staring off into space.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Hey."
You groaned as you heard someone whisper in your ear. You shrugged it off, thinking you were imagining it. The voice came again.
"Hey, Y/N. Come on. It's time to wake up."
You groaned once more and kept sleeping.
"If you don't wake up, I'll kiss you awake. Come on now."
That shot you awake. As you sat upright, you looked around frantically for any sign of Yumi and her siblings, only to hear familiar shouting come from one of the rooms. You looked up and you were almost nose to nose with their sexy father.
"Uh... hi, sir."
Yunho suppressed the thoughts and smiled once more.
"You can just call me Yunho. And hey to you too. Had a nice nap?"
You blushed out of embarrassment as you put your cardigan back on.
"I'm sorry, Yunho. I didn't realize that I dozed off. It won't happen again."
Yunho let out a quiet laugh and shook his head.
"No worries. They can be a handful at times. Mingi is occupying them so you and I could talk."
You grew nervous as he said that. And it didn't help that his outfit changed yet he still looked good. He wore a brown sweater, gray sweatpants, and glasses. His dark brown hair was free from the confines of the hair gel that kept it up and it looked damp as well, indicating that he probably showered. His cologne was subtle yet it still smelled good. As he sat down next to you, he looked at you for a little bit with an unfamiliar expression in his eyes.
"Yumi and Yunju wouldn't stop talking about you. And it seems Chanmi has taking a liking to you as well with the way that she didn't cry once when you held her. I think I found the perfect match. But only if you want to stay. I would love for you to be a part of their lives, but if this is only temporary, then that's ok as well."
Despite the smile on his face, his eyes read a different story. You sighed quietly and looked into his eyes. You loved babysitting his kids. There was no way you could leave them after hearing their backstory. Without knowing it, you grabbed Yunho's hand and smiled.
"I want this to be permanent. I would like to keep this job."
Yunho's smile brightened and he brought into a hug. He was warm and you relished in it for a bit before pulling away.
"Welcome to the family, Y/N."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
That was over a year ago. Ever since then, you've been a part of the Jeong family for as long as you can remember. Yumi, Yunju, and Chanmi were more than happy to hear that you were to be a permanent part of the family.
So you could imagine the looks on their faces when they had to be sent away one Friday night to have a sleepover with Mingi, his own kid, and a new boo he's been seeing apparently.
Chanmi was asleep in Mingi's arms, Yunju fought a little bit before giving up, and poor Yumi bit Mingi's hand before running back into the arms of her father and you. Yumi looked up at you with big shiny eyes. Out of all the Jeong daughters, she was the closest to you. You cooed softly at the sight and bent down to kiss her forehead.
"It'll be ok, Yumi. It's only for one night. Tomorrow, the five of us can spend the day together as a family. Ok?"
Yumi nodded sadly before holding out her pinky.
"Pinky promise?"
You interlocked your pinky with hers and smiled down at her.
"Pinky promise."
Yumi giggled shyly before running over to her uncle Mingi. As soon as the four of them left, Yunho shut the door behind him and stalked over to you. A lazy smirk was on his face as he grabbed your hand and kissed the back of it.
"Come now. Let's have dinner. We're finally alone."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A few minutes and several glasses of soju later, the two of you were seated on the couch, laughing at old memories that you two shared of each other. From Yunho meeting up with Mingi everyday to eat lunch together to your first encounter with Wooyoung, the night was filled with laughter and joy. A comfortable silence formed between the two of you yet you didn't mind. As you finished your ninth soju bottle, you saw that Yunho had closed his eyes for a bit as a way to probably sober up a bit. He was breathing in and out slowly, his glasses were perched on the top of his nose, and the tips of his ears were still red but it wasn't as bad as before. Your eyes then dragged over his form and you couldn't help but feel flustered just from looking at him.
He wore a light blue dress shirt with the top buttons loosened and black jeans that fit his slim legs well. His chest rose up and down slowly while his hands were on either side of him. Light snores escaped from him and you found that slightly cute. Fueled by the soju in your body, you leaned in to give him a small kiss on the cheek.
Imagine your surprise when you felt his lips on yours.
You pulled away but not entirely since you felt his hands on your waist and your body pulled flush against his own. His eyes opened slightly and a smirk was on his face.
"Hey."
"Um... hi."
Your soft voice caused Yunho to chuckle and bring into a hug, his face being buried in the crook of your neck. Your blush worsened due to the close proximity between the two of you. He then pulled away and stared deeply into your eyes.
"May I confess something to you?" He asked quietly and you nodded.
"I think I've fallen for you. No wait. I have fallen for you. I fell for you when you first walked into my home. And those feelings developed into something more when I came home and saw my eldest laying comfortably against you."
Your heart rate increased as he kept talking but you found his hands slowly slipping away from you. You were about to protest lightly from the lack of warmth he provided when you saw him put his face in his hands.
"Sadly, I can't have you. I know you're into guys and that's fine since I'm bisexual. But still... you deserve more than just an old man like me. You deserve to be with someone who will come home to you and will give you their undivided attention."
When you heard the first sniffle, you immediately wrapped your arms around him. Yunho held you back as he continued.
"I tried so hard every day to make sure I came home on time for dinner, tuck the kids in bed, and kiss my wife goodnight before going to sleep beside her so she can wake up to me in the morning. However, it just wasn't enough for her. Hence, the fighting and whatnot. I'm sure Yumi told you everything."
"Yeah. She did."
"The next thing I know, she's divorcing me. Talking about how she doesn't want to be held back by someone who prioritizes work over family when that was never the case!"
Yunho was full on sobbing now and all you could do was shush him and tell him that everything is ok. He kept speaking.
"From there, I hired so many people to babysit my daughters but they never seemed to stick around for long." He raised his head to look at you.
"Until you came along."
He smiled weakly as he continued to speak.
"You've been understanding of my situation and never once complained about my kids or the weird schedule and so on. You've been so kind, patient, and loving. That's why... I confess my love to you. Aside from you doing an excellent job at babysitting, you're witty, intelligent, and so carefree of everything. Which leads me to ask you this."
He held your hands in his.
"Why do you stick around for an old man like me? You could've been out there, finding new job opportunities and dating people your age. Yet here you are, in the arms of someone like me. Why is that?"
You sighed shakily as you pondered your answer. You decided to tell the truth.
"While I love working with computers, sometimes, computer science takes a toll on the mind. Plus, sitting in front of a computer screen 24/7 for hours on end with countless stacks of paperwork becomes too boring. Being around your kids brought me life. Also, if I may, I've fallen for you as well. I figured you wouldn't want someone as young as me. But seeing as you've returned the feelings, I couldn't be happier."
Yunho's heartrate increased as you told him that you felt the same way. His eyes darted to your lips momentarily before looking at you once more. He was still a bit drunk, but he was sober enough to remember this.
"May I...?"
You nodded and felt your heartrate increase when he leaned in and kissed you on the lips for the second time.
His lips were soft and plush against your own and his hands held your waist with a gentle yet firm grip. As he held you close to him, you felt the love and passion he had for you in this kiss.
You were finally home.
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I need a part2 of the "sub!Geto Suguru x fem!dom!reader" fic🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏 BTW your writing is amazing!💖
sub!Geto Suguru x fem!dom!reader
Part 1
Synopsis: Geto starts feeling conflicted about his feelings for you (a non sorcerer). You make him realize some things and you both come to terms with what you feel for each other
Contains: angst (kinda), substance use (alcohol), mentions of masturbation, smut, p in v, missionary, unprotected sex, creampie, overstimulation, mentions of murder
Suguru was going insane. He was constantly telling himself that he hated you, that he had to hate you. You were the source of his unhappiness, you were the source of the pain of his kind. But he couldn't bring himself to hate you. He thought about killing you then immediately rushed to the bathroom and splashed freezing water on his face. It usually worked but when it didn't he'd also slap himself. How could he even think about killing you when he craved you like he's never craved anything else before?
He was crying. Laying naked on his bed, fingers wrapped around his dick and jerking it as fast as he could, twisting his hand around his shaft in a desperate attempt to mimic your moves. He never did it right. He hated it. He hated that he had no self control left. He needed it. Every time he tried to restrain himself from doing it he'd find himself humping the sheets. There was no escape. He was ashamed. He was crying because of how low he'd got for a mere non sorcerer.
The man's feelings were a complete mess. Nights like those became more and more frequent. He couldn't bare call you. There was no good excuse. You were sending him as much money as he wanted so there was no reason for him to call you and ask to meet you. But one night he did.
He didn't want his family to see him in the state he was in so he booked a hotel room and called room service for a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. He almost finished half of it by 1 am which was too late to call anyone but he didn't know what time it was nor did he care. He wasn't nervous, nor ashamed, nor excited, nor nothing. He took out his phone and dialed your number. You picked up on the third call.
"Do you know what time it is?" your tired voice asked the inebriated man.
"No" he answered.
You sighed. "What do you want?"
"I don't know" you could barely hear any emotion in his tone.
"Then why did you fucking call?" you snap at him. Hasn't he ruined enough nights for you already? You were paying him, so what else could he possibly need?
You freeze when you hear his voice break. "I'm sorry" he mumbles, biting his lip as tears run down his face. "I don't know why I called you but...I need you..."
You were speechless. You knew he was fighting some inner demons the last time you saw him and the fact that after you fell asleep right after finishing having sex with him you woke up in your own bed at home and nothing bad happened to you was telling a lot. He was growing fond of me, you thought. I'm going mad about her, he thought.
"Please say something" he adds.
"Suguru..." you start but he cuts you off.
"I'm lonely. I'm so lonely. Please..."
You contemplate for a while. It was up to you to go to him or go back to sleep. He wouldn't hurt you if you didn't come and you knew it. But it'll hurt him if you don't.
You sigh. "Send me your location"
Suguru opened the door of the hotel room. His hair was loose and his robes were undone, leaving his chest and legs bare. His cheeks reddened when he saw you standing there but you weren't even looking at his body. You stepped in and closed the door behind yourself.
"How much have you drunk?" you ask once you see the empty bottle on his table.
"It doesn't matter. Tell me..." his voice cracks and his lower lip starts trembling. "Please tell me what's wrong with me...I wanna hate you. I want to...I want to wish to kill you. What have you done to me...?"
You've never been scared of him, yet you knew he was insanely strong. You always saw him as this ruthless killer who only cared about his fellow sorcerers and loathed your peers. Yet here he was, crying because he had feelings for a person he was supposed to hate.
"I'm truly sorry my mere existence in your life makes everything for you so complicated. I know you despise non sorcerers and... I'm sorry for what you've been through" you say, trying to calm him down.
"How could you possibly know what I've been through!?" he yells. He was frustrated and it was obvious. He was at war with himself and you wanted to help him. Why? Why was the desperation in his voice making something inside you ache?
"I don't know...but I can only imagine how bad it was if it made you this full of hatred"
He remains silent and keeps looking you in the eyes, trying not to show his emotions. He turns around and walks towards the bed, then sits on the edge of the mattress, rubbing his temples. You didn't know what to do, but what you knew was that you hated seeing him in that state. You slowly approached him and not so surprisingly he let you.
"Suguru..." you started as you stood in front of him, looking down at his conflicted expression. He raises his head and looks at you, red teary eyes staring right at the shape of your soul.
He wasn't a bad person. Not at all. He was broken. So broken that his mind didn't want to accept what his heart was telling him. And you hated it. You were mad at the world for hurting him. For destroying the heart of a man you barely even knew aside from his previous constant threats he made to you and the one time you slept with him. You saw how much he was able to love. You saw the kindness he was showing his family, the care he was raising his daughters with. He didn't deserve any of this pain.
You lifted your hand to touch his face and he didn't stop you. As you stroked his cheek he closed his eyes an leaned into your hand, a small hum escaping his lips. His gesture made you smile, that ache in your soul slightly fading.
"Spend the night here" he says without looking at you. You accepted.
There was something about the way the sun rays made Suguru's features look the more majestic. He looked so peaceful as he was sleeping next to you. Even when the light was tickling his eye lids, he couldn't be less disturbed. The blanket was covering his lower side, leaving his back exposed to you. Your eyes traced the scars he had received from previous fights and you couldn't help but sigh, knowing he was living a life he never wanted.
You glanced at your phone. Eleven am. It's been a very long time since Suguru last found himself still sleeping at such a time. But you knew he needed it.
You brushed one of his locks behind his ear, continuing to stroke his long hair. You weren't trying to wake him up. It just felt right. Though soon enough he starts to slowly open his eyes. He yawns and rubs them then his hand goes to his forehead, pressing on it as his eyes squeeze shut. He was hungover.
You helped him get up then sit on the edge of the bed. He was grunting every time a new wave of pain pierced through his head and you tried to soothe him by stroking his back carefully.
"Suguru...I think I have some pills on me. I'll give you one, okay?" you ask, worried about his condition. He doesn't answer, instead he just nods his head. You get up and start looking for the pillbox you had in your bag and once you found it you filled a glass with some cold tap water and gave it to him, along with the painkiller.
He doesn't waste any time before swallowing it. He wasn't cautious. No, he trusted you. Suguru chuckles then raises his head to look at you. "I could've swallowed it without the water, you know?"
You raise a brow, a smile creeping onto your face. "You're in the mood for jokes now?"
He laughs again and tries to stand up, but only manages to fall back on the mattress. He gives you a pouty look. "I figured it's better to keep myself entertained. At least this way I don't feel bad for violating my principles"
You sigh and take a seat next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I've done everything you asked of me..." you tell him. Your words piqued his interest, causing him to frown.
He turned his face towards you, giving you an ugly look. "And now what? You want me to praise you for the thing you were born to do? You want me not to feel bad that I feel...whatever I feel for a lower being?"
"Lower being?" you repeat his words, hoping he'll realize he's in the wrong once he hears them out loud. He doesn't flinch. His expression only darkens more. "How am I inferior to you, enlighten me?"
"You dare!" he snaps, struggling to get up from the bed. "I saw my friends die for you, people! And for what? So that you could keep on living and create more curses? To what? To kill us?"
"And you think that by killing non sorcerers your friends will stop hunting curses and therefore stop dying? You think you're protecting them by abandoning them, letting them grieve your defection? You're not saving anyone. You're hurting your former friends and destroying your own life. All for nothing. You can't change the way the world is. It's messed up and it's twisted as fuck but you can't change it. You'll die trying"
Silence. None of you said anything for a while. He kept staring at you, yet it seemed more as though he was looking through you. He was lost in thought. There was nothing he could've said to argue with you because, as much as he wanted to deny it, you were right. Suguru wondered where you knew so much from for a while but soon gave up on trying to figure that out. He was tired. Tired of all of this. He called you here because he needed you. He still does.
So he gets closer and sits next to you, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. It was a surprising gesture which both of you had been craving for too long. A gesture which you reciprocated.
He sighed an buried his face in the crook of your neck. "Please don't talk. I don't wanna talk. I need...time to think. But I don't want that right now"
You started caressing his back with one hand while the other was playing with his hair. It felt right. Sitting there so close to each other on a random noon. This wasn't like one of the one night stands he'd usually have in hopes of finally feeling something, in hopes of finally filling that void in his being. This was different. This is what he needed.
"Love me" he whispered.
"I do...I've always loved you"
"No" he replies. "What I meant was...make love to me"
"Ahh~ ahh f-fuckk"
He was moaning so loudly as he was thrusting into you. The sounds he was making sent shockwaves down your spine since his face was so close to your ear. He was almost laying on top of you, hardly able to hold his own weight because of the pleasure he was feeling.
"Am ahh~ i doin good ngh-ahh~" he asks, desperate for your praise. His cock was filling every inch of you, yet he was moving achingly slowly.
You caress his hair and speak gently to the man on top of you. "You're doing great, baby just mhm~ faster for me...think you can do that?"
He whines and tries to comply, but fails miserably. He was so damn sensitive. You were feeling too good around him, he couldn't even think anymore. He was happy, as simple as that. You loved him and he loved you and you were having sex right now and it felt so fucking good.
"Mhm~ love you...I love you I love you I love you...!" he kept saying it breathlessly, not to convince you of this, but because he finally felt free to accept his feelings.
You took his face into your hands and started kissing him sloppily, biting his lips and sucking on his tongue. This only made him weaker, his pace getting slower and his moans and whimpers louder.
"I'm gon-ahh gonna c-cum...!" he whimpers. "Please can I? Can ahh I pleaseee cum??"
"Yes baby yes. Cum for me"
"Nghh thank you thank you!!" he whines and soon enough you could feel his release filling you up and sliding down your ass, soaking the bed sheets.
Before he got the chance to catch his breath, you gave him an apologetic look and wrapped your legs around him, pulling him forward.
"Mhm~ n-no more! Ngh~ can't!" he whined.
You gently stroked his cheek with your thumb. "Shh pretty boy. You can, okay? You can make me cum, okay sweetheart?"
He nods as tears run down his face from the tantalizing feeling of overstimulation. He started moving his hips, every touch of your skin accompanying his moans as he tried to go faster for you.
His cock hardened inside you once more, his fat tip hitting your g spot so perfectly it made your toes curl. As you clenched around his length he started sobbing and normally you'd comfort the poor boy who was now yours but your head was thrown back on the soft pillow from the pleasure this man was finally giving you.
"Yes baby! Yes! F-fuckk you're doing g-great! Ngh-ahh good boy! Good fucking boy!"
The praise was only fueling his desire to make his lover feel good, to show his lover all the love and adoration he has for her. "Mhmm thank you ahh~ thank you so much you're making me so happy oh god!" The way you brought your knees up to your chest, allowing him to fuck deeper into you made you both lose the little lucidity you had left. The warmth and wetness of your walls along with his cum made it hard for his dick not to slip out of your cunt.
You wrapped your arms around his shoulders to bring his face closer to yours so you could press your lips on his abused ones once more. "Mhm~ can't gon-gonna cum again... for you oh fuck fuck fuckkk!!"
You weren't in a better state yourself. The long awaited high was approaching your body and you didn't even get the chance to tell him. The way his cock was abusing every right spot in such a delicious way while his pelvis was rubbing on your clit during the rapid movements of his body was enough to drive you over the edge.
When you arched your back as your walls clenched around him, your head getting thrown back and your mouth making an involuntary O shape, he buried his face in the crook of your neck and shot his cum once more deep inside your pussy.
For a while the only audible sounds in the hotel room was your and his panting. He was laying on his back next to you, but both of you were looking into each other's eyes. It felt right.
"I love you..." he confesses once more.
"I love you too"
#geto suguru#suguru geto smut#jjk geto#jjk suguru#jujutsu kaisen smut#sub geto#sub!character#sub jjk#dom reader#jjk smut#jjk fanfiction#jjk fanfic#jjk#smut#angst#geto smut#geto suguru fanfiction
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⇢ word count: 13.5k
⇢ warnings: past unethical experimentation, you have to accept the premise of a single human empire in space in the future with colonies and a military and not think deeper about that, multiple needle/injection mentions, main characters are morally gray, and oh yeah cursing
⇢ genre: sci-fi, set in the near-ish future, humans and aliens and robots, black op mission, captain kun, ?????? reader, slow burn, fluff, dash of angst, ft. wayv as the crew of the vision
⇢ extra info: took a lot of obvious inspo for this one from isaac asimov’s robot stories, specifically his concept of positronic brains & the three laws of robotics (and if you’ve read any of his stories, you’ll probably be able to see some other places too)
⇢ author's note: holy shit, this is finally it. the last part. THE last part. im literally vibrating rn y’all, im so excited for you to read this one, i hope you’ve been enjoying this fic im so so proud of it and love it so much
⇢ series masterlist | prev.
You looked down at his hand, then back up at him. “Do you want whatever a robot’s love is?”
“Here’s the engine room,” Ten announced, pushing open a door. Inside were multitudes of pipes, tubes, and wires. On your tour with Kun, he had only pointed out the door to you, not taken you inside.
You looked around with interest, following the pilot further in. He was walking towards a large cylinder set lower than the floor, about the same height as him. Thin bands of white light wrapped around the body of it, stopping where it tapered into a blunt end. Ten stepped down into the inset, now a head shorter than the cylinder, and jerked his head for you to follow.
You dropped down as well, looking up at the contraption.
“This is the slipdrive,” he gestured to it grandly. “Brand new.”
“It’s smaller than the second gen,” you observed immediately, looking around the engine room. “The dimensions of the prior model would be… twice as large?”
“Correct.”
“The Vision was built before the new slipdrive, it’s meant to use the prior model, which has a completely different energy signature. How are they compatible?”
“You’re fun,” he declared with a grin, resting a hand on the side. But the explanation he seemed about to launch into stopped short, as the smile fell from his face and turned baffled. “Well that’s not right.”
“What?”
“ZEN?” Ten called out for the AI. “There isn’t something wrong with the slipdrive, is there? You’d tell us.”
“Of course, Sergeant,” ZEN’s voice confirmed, though his avatar didn’t appear. You figured he might not have a terminal to project himself from down here.
“So it’s just… idling?”
“Yes, Sergeant.”
“Why’d you turn it on idle?”
“Captain Qian’s order.”
“Should’ve figured. Thanks, man.” Ten just looked even more troubled.
“What’s wrong?” You asked.
“Captain apparently ordered ZEN to suspend us in slipspace…” He crossed his arms thoughtfully. “I’m assuming you know the difference between turning off a slipdrive and idling one?”
“Turning off a slipdrive drops the ship out of slipspace. Idling it suspends it in slipspace.”
“It’s not exactly putting it in park. The longer we’re in slipspace, the more the slipdrive and the ship’s systems have to work to hold its position outside time and space. Not an ideal position to be in for a protracted amount of time.”
You gulped, following after Ten as he started towards the door. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going to ask the captain why he suspended us in slipspace,” he said simply.
Ten seemed to barely register you accompanying him to Kun’s office, or at least didn’t mind if he did notice. The door was open when the two of you got there, and Ten knocked as he walked in.
Kun looked up from where he had been staring rather listlessly at his desk reader displaying some report. He dismissed the document as he went to give his greetings, “Ah, Ten, Y/N. How can I help you?”
“We were just down in the engine room, Captain,” Ten started. “I was showing Y/N the new slipdrive, when I noticed that it uh, it wasn’t set to propulsion.”
“Yes, I’m aware.”
“Why did you suspend us in slipspace, Captain?” His words, despite their bluntness, held no hostility or malice, they clearly weren’t accusatory or suspicious, just curious, inquisitive.
The captain sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. You chewed on the inside of your cheek nervously. After far too long of a pause to be comfortable, he replied, “There is… a matter that needs to be resolved before we arrive at UHN Main. Do you trust that you do not need to know anything further at this time?”
“How long will it take to resolve?”
“I don’t know, unfortunately.”
“Just making sure we’re all on the same page about the slipdrive idling.”
“It’s brand new, and the newest model. Not to mention ZEN is monitoring all the systems. If an immediate danger becomes present, I will obviously reevaluate.”
Ten seemed satisfied. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do, yeah?”
“Thank you, Ten.”
“Alright, Y/N, have you seen the armory? I bet you could trick out a blaster like you did the coffee machine.”
Before he could take you back out of the captain’s office, however, Kun cleared his throat. “I wanted to have a word with Y/N, actually.”
“Gag, okay.” Ten headed for the door alone. “I’ll find a manual for the blasters, Y/N. Find me when you’re done. Bye!”
And then it was just you and Kun. And ZEN, presumably.
You turned to Kun, fidgeting with your fingers. “I didn’t say anything about you suspending the slipdrive, Kun. He was showing me the engine room because he knew I had read about the new slipdrive model, and he noticed it was idling all on his own. ZEN told him you suspended the ship.”
“I’m not angry, Y/N,” Kun reassured you gently. “Apparently Liu has been doing some thinking, about the headache you got yesterday.”
“…Right.”
“He wants to take another look at your head, to see if he can figure out what was causing the pain. And ideally, disable it.”
The mention of a painful headache made you shift your weight from foot to foot. Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you knew what he was talking about, but it felt like it happened to someone else, not like your own memory.
“Okay, sure,” you agreed.
In Yangyang’s lab again, he had you lay down on one of the cool metal counters this time, and you felt startlingly like an autopsy cadaver as you stared up at the sterile white light above.
“Well?” Yangyang prompted the captain pointedly, holding his hand out palm-out.
“Well what?” Kun snorted, crossing his arms over his chest.
“My positronic Allen key that you stole yesterday. I need it back now.”
“I don’t have it.”
“Don’t tell me you destroyed it in some noble, romantic gesture, or so help me, Captain—”
“I have it, Yangyang,” you interrupted, digging into your pocket to bring it out. You offered it out to the roboticist. “Here.”
“Ah, thank you, Y/N,” he beamed, accepting the coin into his hand. “Now, unlike last time, I’ll be putting you into repair stasis. You’ll lose muscle tension, kind of like when you’re asleep, except you’ll be awake. Hence why you’re laying down. That’s so if I were to test out anything that caused unexpected movement, you wouldn’t injure yourself or break anything. But I won’t be messing with any of that, promise. I’m just going to be looking around at how your head’s constructed.”
“Like… opening my head?”
“I don’t think yours does that.” He shook his head with what looked like a nearly disappointed frown. “I’m no human doctor, but from what I remember of your x-ray, I’m pretty sure your positronic brain is encased in mostly human stuff. At least, stuff that doesn’t look like metal on an x-ray. Bone, skin, who knows? I’ll be doing live imaging with some robotics tools this time to try to look at what’s inside.”
“Got it…”
When he held the Allen key up to your head this time, the side that faced you had a glowing pentagon in the center rather than a triangle. Yangyang talked as he slowly slid it around your forehead and temple, “The receiver to turn on repair stasis is usually around the same area as diagnostic stasis, but not always.”
“Holy shit…” Liu breathed out as he moved the sensor over your forehead, continuing to develop the image on the small handheld screen in his other hand.
Captain Qian tensed. “What? What’s going on?”
“I was kind of right. Y/N’s head wasn’t exploding so much as ripping itself apart from the inside.” The roboticist squinted at the parallel, jointed strips of metal at strategic points around your positronic brain casing. If they were to expand, which it definitely looked like they were meant to do, they would not only rip the casing apart, allowing the organic, wet human fluids like blood into the carefully aligned positronic brain, but fracture and break your skull from the inside out.
“Well fix whatever did that!” The captain snapped.
“I can’t.”
“What kind of roboticist are you?”
“A fucking good one,” the lieutenant shot back, the tension in the room finally getting to him as he bit back at his superior. “Because I can tell that nothing is faulty, Captain. It’s a failsafe. If certain parameters are met, the failsafe is triggered, and her entire positronic brain is permanently destroyed.”
He sighed, looking over the mechanics again. They were almost too familiar to him, rudimentary, but effective. They were widely considered cruel to use on robots nowadays. His roboethics professor was the first vocal opponent of such failsafes, especially when the topic of sentient robots was brought up. A human ordering a robot to destroy itself was one thing, a direct order, a choice, a decision. But installing failsafes for a robot to destroy itself, entirely unaware of what was happening to it was different. You weren’t even just a robot, you were… something else. A person, regardless of what percentage of you was organic matter.
“I doubt she’s doing it consciously,” Liu added, as if that made it any better.
“But you said someone either took all her data or destroyed it already, then ordered her to forget everything! What the fuck would this failsafe even do?” The captain was still demanding answers, insisting on reason, on anything less than the brutal reality in front of them.
“Presumably destroy the last thing left from whatever shady thing was happening down there.” Liu nodded to you, laying limp on the counter, eyes closed, almost looking peaceful, if one could imagine that you were sleeping.
“I hate to ask… but why keep her like this in the first place? Why not just destroy her when they abandoned Aegeum? Why do all this to her and not just trigger the failsafe? It’s just… cruel,” Captain Qian said, his voice hoarse. The lieutenant didn’t need to look at him to know that he was staring at you. They both were.
“I wish I knew, Captain. I wish I could tell you anything.”
“It registers as pain for her?”
“She remembers being human a lot better than she remembers being a robot, those might be the only words she has for it,” Liu offered up an explanation, then another, “I also haven’t seen a model exactly like her… I don’t know how much of her is organic. She could have nerves, pain receptors. If she says it hurts, then I believe her as much as if you told me you got a boo-boo.”
“Is there any way you can take the failsafe out? Or deactivate it at least?” The captain asked, voice near pleading now.
Liu turned away from you to shoot the captain a look, retorting, “Without accidentally triggering it or turning her into a positronic vegetable in the process? Fuck no.”
“That’s what I was afraid of.”
“God, what the hell went on down there?”
“The more I learn, the less I think I want to know.”
“You’re going to have to tell the rest of the crew. You know that, right?” The roboticist said bluntly, leaning his elbows forward on his knees to look the captain in the eyes.
Captain Qian ran a hand through his hair, sighing. “I know…”
“I won’t blab. This is between you and Y/N. We all trust you to tell us what we need to know when we need to know it. But I think they need to know this for Y/N’s sake.”
“Yeah, I know. Don’t want them accidentally triggering the failsafe or ordering her to do something.”
“Or another flying knife incident.”
“Fuck, that too…” He swore, looking up to the ceiling as he tried not to imagine your head randomly exploding at mess one morning. The captain focused back on his crewmate. “Are you about done with her like this?”
Liu stood up, setting the positronic Allen key onto the countertop next to your head. “Yep.”
“See you at mess, Liu.” The captain nodded to him as the roboticist moved to leave, closing the door behind him.
The captain picked up the Allen Key, gently lifting and turning your head to be able to access the base of your skull. He slid the key into place as he’d seen Liu do twice now, pressing the side with the pentagon to your skin until the coin buzzed twice against his fingertips. Setting the key aside, he delicately placed your head back down.
This time, you could tell that time had passed. Kun was standing above you, in the process of letting your head go, so tenderly, and you didn’t quite remember him grabbing it, but you didn’t not remember him grabbing it. You blinked slowly, eyes following him as he stepped back politely.
“Y/N?” He said your name quietly, holding your gaze. “You with me?”
“Yeah, Kun,” you replied, slowly sitting up. “I’m here…”
“How much of that were you actually hearing?”
“All my systems were operative but not talking to each other. I could hear you guys, but I wasn’t actually processing what you were saying.”
“Sounds like Wong in our briefings,” Kun joked dryly, and you let out a half-hearted chuckle. When tense silence fell over the two of you, he cleared his throat and continued, “Anyway, Liu thinks we have to be careful with our words when discussing certain things about your amnesia or Aegeum, and that the headache is a failsafe is to keep us from prying too far.”
You tried to argue, “I can deal with a headache if it helps—”
“Y/N, it’s not just a bad migraine. It’s a self-destruct button. And pushing it wouldn’t help us at all.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. So we’re going to leave it alone, alright?”
“No picking at the scab.”
The corner of his lip twitched. “Exactly.”
“I-I think I’d like to go back to our room,” you said weakly.
“I’ll go with you.”
When you woke up from your midday nap, you weren’t expecting Kun to still be in the room, honestly. But there he was, sat at the desk with the paperback book from Aegeum, having turned the chair around to face the bed. As you stirred, he dog-eared his page and set the book aside. You yawned and sat up, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes for the second time that day.
He stood up and moved to sit on the edge of the mattress, offering you a tentative smile. “Hey.”
“Hey…” You echoed hesitantly.
Kun inhaled through his nose, then exhaled through his mouth before drawing his eyes up to meet yours and setting his shoulders. “Whatever kind of impulses and signals fire in me that my brain interprets as love, I don’t question those. If the best word you have for what’s going in you is love, it’s not my place to question that either. I’m not the gatekeeper of the word.”
You held his gaze steadily. “Do you think I only love you because of the First Law?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted.
“Can you live with yourself not knowing?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’m sure this has been a lot for you too, I won’t push you for an answer right now,” you said quietly, slinging your feet over the side of the bed to stand up.
As you made your first step towards the door, hand outstretched to grab the handle, Kun spoke up, “I…”
You stopped, your hand falling back down to your side as you turned back to look at him curiously. “What is it?”
“Never mind.” He rushed to shake his head.
“You were going to ask something, weren’t you?”
“It’s okay. You were going.”
“You can ask. I know the difference between question that I can say no to, and an order.”
He still hesitated.
“You’ve seen me say no, haven’t you? Even to you, when there was no danger. Think.”
Kun finally nodded. “You’re right.”
“So?”
“I want— Could you… Would you mind… staying, for a little bit? You don’t have to… you can sit over on the other bed, or at the desk, or leave, or whatever you want, but…”
“I want to be around you too, Kun,” you said the words that you knew he couldn’t bring himself to for fear of it being too forceful, sitting back down next to him, closer than before. “Even if… you don’t know what to do about it.”
He swallowed thickly, and you saw his jaw tighten. You held your hand out for him, watching as he slowly put his on top.
You woke up first in the morning. From where your head rested on your pillow, you could see Kun’s own sleeping form in the bottom bunk of the other bed. Yesterday had been a bittersweet time: he told you about the book he was reading, you shared what you’d learned about the latest subject you’d been perusing, you gave him his injections, and the two of you had been unable to leave each other. Until it was time to go to sleep, and then Kun wordlessly got under the sheets on the other side of the room.
Slipping out of your cabin, you started down the halls of the ship. You had no particular destination in mind, thinking that maybe you’d go to the observation deck before eventually meandering over to the kitchen for mess, but more-so wanting to stretch your legs and let your mind ruminate. Your positronic mind. Even that thought alone was something you were still turning over.
As you passed by the robotics lab, however, you weren’t expecting to see light coming from under the door. Stopping, you gently turned the handle and pushed it open, finding it unlocked. Yangyang—or who you assumed to be Yangyang, as their face was completely covered by a welding mask—was at one of the workstations, welding something together as sparks flew up around his hands, and you squinted, covering your eyes against the brightness.
“Hey, Yangyang,” you announced your presence.
He perked up towards the sound of your voice, and waved his hand that was holding the robot piece in it. “Oh, hey, Y/N.”
“Are you busy?”
“Does it look like I am?” He gestured to the materials in front of him.
You looked over the countertops that seemed more cluttered than normal, welding tools that he was actively using, and robot part that was still in his hand. “I mean, yeah, kind of.”
“Nah, come in.” He waved you in, setting his tools and project down as you stepped further in. Still aware of how early it was in the morning, you shut the door behind you. The roboticist took his welding mask off, putting that aside and mussing his hair up with his fingers. “I really am sorry about the other day, by the way. Giving you an order.”
“Oh, that’s not why I’m here.”
“I didn’t think it was, but I still wanted to apologize. I needed to do it, but it was still a shitty thing. So I’m sorry. I’d do it again, to save your life, but I’ll apologize after every time.”
You tilted your head curiously. “Then what’s the point of apologizing?”
“Because you deserve one,” he said sincerely, firmly.
“Well, thanks. For saving me, and apologizing, I guess.”
“So, what do you need?” He changed his tone, throwing on a bright smile.
You took a deep breath, pulling up another stool to sit across the counter from him. “Do you think I can love?”
“From a robotics standpoint, I don’t know enough about how you’re constructed to be able to say much about what you can do.” He leaned back in his chair, putting his feet up on the tabletop, lacing his fingers together over his stomach. “But that doesn’t matter. Ever since humans invented the idea of love, we’ve been debating about if it’s real, what it is, trying to study it, sell it, whatever.”
“Sounds like you don’t think it’s real.”
“Sure it is. As real as any abstract, undefinable concept is,” he shrugged. “Humans like to think they’re special. It was only in recent human history that we even learned that we weren’t the only intelligent species in the universe. And even then, there were some people who said that surely what sets us apart from them is that humans are the only species capable of love. And when we finally got translators proficient enough and could talk to them and we found out that they had the concept of love too, then it became that humans are the only ones capable of real love. Whatever that is.”
“The other species might’ve been thinking that about humans, too.”
“True.” He tapped his thumbs together thoughtfully, then continued, “My old roboethics prof, he used to say something: There’s no true metalman.”
“What does it mean?” You asked curiously.
“It’s a play on ‘no true Scotsman,’ which is a logical fallacy. The fallacy itself is kind of irrelevant. But it means there’s no such thing as a pure robot, free of human influence. That no matter how hard a roboticist may try, they’ll unintentionally leave some trace of themselves in whatever they create. There is always some human choice to be made at some point in the process. Some cases are more obvious than others, like early robots that had more limited built-in vocabularies talking like their creators, or a roboticist making seemingly arbitrary aesthetic decisions for a robot’s head features then his buddy walks in and jokes that it kind of looks like the first guy’s ex-wife.”
You blinked. “Did that really happen?”
“It’s an ‘everyone knows a guy who worked with a guy who…’ kind of thing,” he explained. “Anyway, my point is that I don’t think it’s so hard to imagine that a species so obsessed with love might, intentionally or not, make something that loves too.”
You pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth, thinking about the difference in Kun from before and after you went into repair stasis. “Is that what you told Kun?”
“What?” Yangyang’s confusion seemed genuine.
“I don’t know, I figured he would’ve talked to you about it,” you mumbled, looking down at your hands.
“No, he hasn’t.” After a moment, he added, “For what it’s worth, I think if he was to be taking my word about if you can love over yours… that wouldn’t be a great sign?”
You let out a choked laugh. “What does it mean that I’m asking you that then?”
“You’re someone who knew so little about yourself in the first place and now feels like you’ve had all that turned on its head. You’re doing what you’ve always done: Asking questions. I think that’s perfectly fair.”
“You don’t think I’ve completely lost what little sense of self I had?”
“I think you might feel like that—I can’t read your mind—but this doesn’t make the Y/N we got to know on Aegeum a figment of our imagination. You weren’t pretending to be our friend.”
“You don’t think that was the First Law?”
“The flying knife and the ceiling, definitely First Law behavior,” he conceded. “But I’ve met some rude, unhelpful robots before, trust me.”
“When did you know?” You asked. “That I wasn’t completely human?”
“I suspected something from when they found you untouched with no memories. I thought you were an android with a busted memory core. But then you bled.”
“I thought androids didn’t exist.”
“They don’t, but it’s the best I could come up with. No way was I expecting that they had actually developed a functioning humanoid before the first android.”
“Maybe they did but they didn’t survive.”
“Oh, you see, now that’s sad,” Yangyang clicked his tongue and shook his head. “Don’t make me think about that.”
“Sorry,” you chuckled a little, then went to change the topic. “So what were you working on?”
As Yangyang began explaining the personal project he had been tinkering with when you walked in, you let your seemingly ever-present problems fade into the background, eagerly listening to his enthusiastic words.
After breakfast, you took an extra plate of food to Kun’s office, knocking firmly on the closed door. When ZEN had called him for mess earlier, the AI reported back that he didn’t want to be disturbed, and the other six of you were to eat without him.
“Come in,” he voiced from within.
You entered, spotting him at the desk, hunched over reports with his head in his hand. “You missed breakfast.”
“Sorry, I… thinking.”
“About?” You asked, setting his food on the only empty space left on his desk.
“Thanks,” he took the food, moving some of his papers aside to put the plate front and center. “The Skippers that were on Aegeum, we still don’t know why they were there.”
“No, we don’t. Or why they were flying Fishead pods instead of their own ships.”
“I was just re-reading this report from the Admiral from before we entered slipspace. List of attacks by Fishead pirates, but there’s something off about a couple of them. The targets are all UHN scientific sites, not military vessels or trade outposts, and nothing was pillaged. Just destroyed.”
You tilted your head thoughtfully. “Were any K’llor spotted at the attacks, or only their ships?”
“It looks like they were just aerial attacks, cannon blasts. So, it would seem like a no.”
“If we assume those weren’t K’llor pirates driving those pods, and were actually more Skippers looking to destroy rather than plunder…”
“Two’s a coincidence, three’s a pattern.”
You sat in one of the chairs across his desk from him. “Were the facilities bigger or smaller than Aegeum?”
“Sites, not facilities,” Kun corrected you. “They weren’t even buildings. One was an unmanned space station in orbit around a meteor. It was ran entirely by robots, so it had no defenses. The other was a solar farm installed on a colony planet. They left the city it was powering alone.”
“So… no fatalities?”
“None. The city that lost their solar farm is running on back-up generators until the solar farm gets fixed.”
“If they were all Skippers, and they were all together, then what the hell happened on Aegeum?”
“They may not be in the same faction. Or they may have been at some point, then diverged only recently because of… differing ideals.”
“Still makes you wonder how they ended up at Aegeum in the first place…” You mused. “Doesn’t seem like a place you could really stumble upon accidentally.”
“No, not particularly.” Kun shook his head. After a beat of silence of him pushing food around on his plate and you silently mulling over what you had just been talking about, he changed the subject, “You got up early this morning.”
“Yeah, I was thinking, too.”
“…About?”
You shifted forward in your chair, resting your elbows on the desk in front of you and folding your arms together. “I understand that you’re worried about my having a lack of… choice in the matter, when it comes to this. And I can appreciate the sentiment, Kun, and where that concern stems from. But don’t you think, that in unilaterally ending our relationship supposedly for my own good, that also takes away my agency? The thing that you’re so worried about me keeping through all of this?”
Kun’s fork stilled over his food, and he swallowed as he held your gaze steadily. He slowly nodded, the weight of your words clearly resting heavily in the creases of his forehead. “I-I didn’t think of it like that. I’m sorry.”
“Do you trust me to make my own decisions? Even about this? Or do you really just think of me as a mindless, obedient robot?”
“No, I don’t think of you like that. God, Y/N, of course I don’t,” he denied, his voice troubled.
“Then you have to trust me to make decisions about us, too. You can’t just make them for me.”
“I…” He opened and closed his mouth, momentarily at a loss for words. “Can I digest this? Think, before we keep talking?”
“Of course,” you agreed, well aware of the gravity of your questions. Hopefully, your next ask would be lower impact, “Yangyang asked me to stop by the shop after breakfast, I’d like you to come with me, if you can.”
Kun gave you a small smile. “Nowhere else I’d rather be.”
“No, she’s not something for you to experiment on,” Kun rejected Yangyang’s idea as soon as he had started pitching it, his voice biting.
“She’s all we have left of what they were doing,” Yangyang replied, gesturing to you zealously.
The captain stepped in between you and Yangyang, his fists clenched down by his sides. “Exactly. Don’t you think Y/N’s had enough people studying her? You’re not going to put her under your microscope next.”
You looked at your friend from around Kun, shaking your head for him to drop it for now. Yangyang held his hands up and started backing away towards the door of the lab. “I’m going to grab a juice…”
Kun watched him leave, his chest heaving with deep breaths.
“Kun… what’s wrong?” You asked calmly.
“What?” He looked back at you.
“You’re shaking.” You gently picked up one of his trembling hands.
“I’m angry,” he answered shortly. “Why aren’t you?”
“He’s trying to help.”
“Did you see his face? Liu’s just found a new toy. You’re not just some… specimen to be studied.”
“This is his field of study, he’s allowed some interest, I think. And I don’t think that’s all he thinks of me.” You watched as Kun started pacing, running a hand through his hair, visibly agitated. “You’re thinking about your program, aren’t you?”
He sighed bitterly. “We weren’t people to him. Especially not the discards.”
“That makes me angry.” Your blood simmered just hearing him talk about himself like that, so casually, as if it were an objective truth. “You’re not… disposable, Kun. You hold your crew together, and I… treasure you.”
“God…” Kun looked up at the ceiling again, and it was then that you saw tears forming at the corners of his eyes as they reflected the lights above him.
“Yangyang is not Dr. Yoon,” you said firmly.
He stopped his pacing, hung his head, then nodded. “No, he’s not. He’s a good kid.”
“Exactly.”
“Y/N…” He said your name weakly, desperately, looking up from his feet to your face. You saw the tear tracks on his cheeks.
“Yes?”
“It’s true, that you were created by Dr. Yoon. I wasn’t letting myself think about that earlier. But I don’t hate you.” He didn’t falter in his words in the slightest, determined, resolute, his mind made up. “You are probably the only good thing that has come out of that man’s existence.”
“I might’ve done awful things, back at the lab,” you said, warning him.
“Yeah…” He shrugged one shoulder almost sheepishly. “And I work for the head of Intelligence at the UHN, right now. Do you think my hands are clean?”
“I’ve never thought they are.”
“You’ve always been able to just see me. I’m sorry I was refusing to see you before, but I’m looking now, I promise.”
“Can you live with yourself? Not ever knowing… if it’s the First Law?”
“Roboethicists and robopsychologists can talk themselves to death on that, I don’t care. You were right. I wasn’t giving you any sort of autonomy by making a decision like this for you. So…” He inhaled softly, but in the dead quiet of the room, you could hear every rustle of fabric, every breath, every step he took closer to you. Kun held a hand out towards you. “I can’t offer you anything close to a normal life. Or really anything at all. Other than me.”
“That’s all I can give, too. Myself. You can accept that I am in love with you, whatever that means to me, just as I accept that you love me, however that reality presents itself to you. But…” You looked down at his hand, then back up at him. “Do you want whatever a robot’s love is?”
“You are more than enough, Y/N,” he pleaded.
You took his hand. “So are you.”
“All of you, how you were made, what you very well could have done, what you are… You are more than enough,” he repeated like a prayer, pulling you in closer at the same time that he stepped forward and wrapped his other arm around you, as if he hadn’t seen you in several lifetimes, holding you to him with a crushing strength that you hadn’t experienced from him before. You hugged him back as tight as you could, so he knew it was real, that you were real, and that you were here.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, pressing his lips to your cheek. “I’m sorry—”
“No, Kun,” you hushed him. “We both needed time. It’s okay. Thank you, for trying to do what you thought was best for me.”
“Are you sure about this? What Liu wants to do?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.” You pulled back from Kun’s embrace to look him in the eye. “I’m the proof. I was built there, and if we want to know what they were doing, we have to study me. I wouldn’t trust anybody more than you guys to do it.”
He cradled your cheek. “You’ll tell us as soon as your head hurts? You cannot push through the failsafe, Y/N.”
“I will, I promise,” you agreed, wiping at the drying tears on his cheeks. “I like my head in one piece.”
He stroked his thumb over your skin gently. “Yeah, me too.”
“Alright, ZEN,” you called out to the AI. “Can you get Yangyang back here?”
“Lieutenant Liu has been loitering outside the entrance for the past two minutes,” ZEN informed you.
“Of course,” Kun sighed, stepping away and turning towards the door. “Liu!”
Yangyang traipsed in, a nondescript juicebox in his hand. “Reporting for duty, Captain.”
“Explain your idea again, please.”
“Right, so, every robot’s positronic brain has a unique imprinting of positronic pathways,” the roboticist started. “New copies of the same model that are fresh off the assembly line might be nearly identical to begin with, but as they’re exposed to new stimuli, learn new things beyond their base impressions, those pathways will diverge and change.”
“So kind of like a fingerprint?” Kun asked.
“If your fingerprint changed after you learned trig for the first time, sure.”
“You want to look at the pathways in my brain closer,” you said. “Will you be able to figure out what I was imprinted with and what has been… divergence?”
“That’ll be a little bit of trial and error,” Yangyang replied regretfully. “I mean, I can assume that you were imprinted with knowledge of Outspacer, and obviously you’ve had to learn who we are… and using your brain’s positronic flows from those, I can start building a functional image of your pathways.”
“How will you access her brain?” Kun questioned. “You’re not going to open her skull, surely.”
“No, no,” the other man shook his head. “Y/N, still got that positronic Allen key on you?”
You reached into your pocket for the tool that Kun had returned to you yesterday. “Had a feeling we might be needing this. Diagnostic stasis or repair stasis?”
“Diagnostic. Sorry. But, I’m hoping you have a secondary active diagnostic stasis. If not, doing a functional positronic pathway image will be pretty much impossible, since you won’t be able to respond to any stimuli.”
Kun narrowed his eyes. “What’s the difference between this and the repair stasis, then?”
“Loss of muscle tone and level of awareness.” Yangyang took the tool from you, then grabbed a nearby notebook and pencil. “An active diagnostic stasis will keep you pretty much frozen in place unless you’re executing an order, Y/N. And you’ll be fully conscious. You ready?”
You sat up on the countertop. “Yeah, ready when you are.”
“Woah, wait,” Kun interjected before the positronic Allen key could be brought anywhere near your head. “What sorts of orders will you be giving her?”
“I won’t be giving any,” Yangyang answered defensively. “Just having her react to stimuli. It’ll look like we’re having an interview, kind of. Or a conversation.”
You gestured to one of the stools that was nearby. “Kun…”
He seemed to get the idea, pulling it up closer to your side and sitting down. Yangyang, meanwhile, rolled his stool in front of you, bringing with him his notebook, pencil, and the Allen key.
“I’ll probably have you help me, Captain, if that’s alright with you,” your friend kept talking as he flipped open to a new page, then leaned in towards you with the Allen key. “I’d love to map what the positronic flow of love looks like.”
This time, he found the spot at the base of your skull with precision, lining up the Allen key deftly. Kun watched the movements of his hand closely as he responded, “Just… having a conversation?”
Their voices faded out as your muscles froze up for a moment, then faded back in, before Yangyang drew his hand away from you and sat back in his stool. You still couldn’t move, but you could listen in on their conversation once again.
“…nothing weird, Liu,” Kun finished whatever warning he had been giving.
“Of course not, Captain,” Yangyang grinned, then turned to you. “Hey, Y/N. So you’re in active diagnostic stasis right now. We’re going to get started. Can you tell me your name?”
“Y/N,” you replied automatically.
“Great.” He sketched something onto his notebook, then grabbed a tablet from the counter. After a few taps, he turned it around to show you the screen. “Can you read this for me?”
It only took you a moment to read the Outspacer glyph. “Grain.”
“Cool.” He swiped, then showed you another. “This one?”
“River.”
“This?”
“Emergency communication.”
He set the tablet aside, grinning as he looked back down at his notebook. “Fantastic.” Then, he asked, “What did you have for breakfast today?”
“Oatmeal.”
“Who sat on your left at breakfast?”
“Corporal Wong Kunhang.”
“And who sat directly across from you?”
“Lieutenant Xiao Dejun.”
“Who did you meet first? Corporal Wong or Lieutenant Xiao?”
You were quiet, unable to formulate your response.
“Y/N?” Yangyang said your name. “Do you understand the question?”
“It’s unclear.”
“That’s okay, I’ll rephrase: Who did you encounter first in your life? Corporal Wong or Lieutenant Xiao? Regardless of if you knew their identity at the time.”
“Corporal Wong.”
“And who personally introduced themselves to you first? Corporal Wong or Lieutenant Xiao?”
“Lieutenant Xiao.”
Yangyang nodded, his pencil never stopping once while you were talking. “Great. What’s my name?”
“Lieutenant Liu Yangyang.”
“And where did you meet us? Myself, Corporal Wong, and Lieutenant Xiao.”
“Aegeum.”
“Who are the other members of our unit?”
“Staff Sergeant Ten Lee, Captain Qian Kun, Professor Dong Sicheng, and ZEN.”
“I’m going to have Captain Qian talk to you for a minute now.” Yangyang rolled out of your view.
Kun scooted into your vision, offering you a soft smile as he met your eyes. “Hey, Y/N…”
“She needs a more direct prompt if you want her to respond verbally, Captain. Either a question or an order,” Yangyang said.
“Shut up, Liu,” he responded through gritted teeth. After taking a deep breath, he addressed you gently, “Uhm, do you remember the story I told you about my parents? What my dad built for my mom?”
“A greenhouse, because your mother wanted to grow strawberries, but the climate on Dura-Jil was too cold.”
“Yeah, and—”
“I read about greenhouses.”
That seemed to catch Kun off-guard. “Wait, really? Why? We have ag bubbles.”
“I wanted to understand what love means to you.”
“Because I said when I think about what love is, I think about him building her a greenhouse.” He nodded in understanding.
“It’s an involved process, requiring a lot of thought and planning. Your father must have had to go to great lengths to get many of the materials for it on Dura-Jil.”
“My dad was an architect. I don’t think I’ve told you that, have I?”
“No.”
“That’s why we were one of the first families on Dura-Jil, he was overseeing the construction of the buildings. He was a civilian contractor with the UHN.” Kun cleared his throat, then said, “Liu has a few more questions for you, okay?”
Then Yangyang was back in front of you. “What other topics have you read about while you’ve been on the Vision?”
Kun brought the positronic Allen key down from your head, his eyes watching your face very carefully. You blinked, readjusting in your spot and rolling out your shoulders. You could recall your entire lengthy conversation with them, thought the memories felt slightly hazy, as if you had been half-asleep the entire time.
“Alright, I’ve—”
“Sorry, would you mind if I stood up while you talked?” You interrupted Yangyang sheepishly. “It feels like I’ve been sitting for a while…”
“Yeah, of course.”
Kun helped you off the counter, his hand hovering over you cautiously as you stood, until he seemed sure that your muscles would support you. Your limbs felt just fine, no aches in them, but you felt the need to move your joints around again.
“So I’ve got your positronic pathways mapped out,” Yangyang announced giddily, gripping his notebook with two hands.
“How could you even measure that though? All we did was talk, you didn’t have anything attached to me, and you couldn’t see my brain,” you asked curiously, grabbing one of your arms to stretch it across your chest.
“You were indicating the positronic flows with your fingers.”
“Wait, really?” You looked down at your hands.
“Yeah, it looked like you were playing the piano on your knees the whole time,” Kun replied, his brow furrowed. “You didn’t feel that?”
“No, I didn’t even realize I was doing it.”
Yangyang’s face lit up. “We should totally do this again with a piano under your hands! Hearing the positronic pathways as music? That’d be so cool!”
“Liu, focus,” Kun said sternly.
“Right, anyway. Here it is!” He turned the notebook around for you to see what he had been sketching.
You couldn’t tell what you were looking at. It definitely didn’t look like a human brain, or even what the components on the x-ray had looked like. If anything, it looked like some combination of abstract art and quantum physics. Intersecting curved lines, straight lines, circles, the occasional indication of a charge or other scientific symbol, some numbers. It was fascinating to look at, and sort of beautiful in a strange way, but you definitely wouldn’t be able to identify it as a brain, much less your brain, without being told that.
“…What was the point of this?” Kun asked frankly, crossing his arms over his chest.
“It looks very complex,” you added. “What does it tell you? And what will you be able to do with it?”
“Well, first of all, the degree complexity is interesting. You see these more condensed areas?” He gestured to a few areas on the page where the drawing was more congested with information than others. “We call those nodules. Some robots’ impressions will only have two nodules: The Three Laws, and then whatever their pre-programmed job is. Those are basic robots, meant to do one thing. You have a lot, as well as sub-nodules, but I also watched you gain a sub-nodule in real time as we were mapping.”
“What sub-nodule?”
“When you were talking to the captain, he gave you new information about himself, about his dad, his family,” Yangyang rambled on with enthusiasm. “What a thrill… Anyway, you’re very dynamic.”
“Uh, thank you?”
He laughed. “You’re welcome. But also, that means something when it comes to positronic brain construction. You’re able to construct new nodules and sub-nodules on your own, as well as modify or combine existing ones when presented with new information. Pretty advanced stuff. You obviously weren’t designed to be a one-trick pony. You don’t have the most nodules I’ve ever seen in a positronic brain, but you had all your non-impressed knowledge wiped, to be fair. By my estimate, you’ll surpass that other brain in… a couple weeks maybe?”
“How old was the other brain? With… more nodules?” You asked curiously, hoping you were using the jargon correctly.
“Several years old.” He beamed. “And, I was able to confirm that you were ordered to wipe everything that wasn’t impressed. You see, when data is wiped from a robot, the data itself can be entirely erased. However, it’s like leveling a house. The house may no longer be there, but the foundation is still in the ground. The positronic pathways from when the robot did have that data still exist, sort of.”
“You can see the pathways from the data that I wasn’t impressed with, but you can’t tell what that data was?”
He nodded. “The pathways are there, but since they haven’t been used, they’re degraded.”
“We have no clue what the house looked like just because we can see the foundation,” Kun sighed.
“Exactly.”
“This degradation,” the captain continued. “Is it bad? For her?”
“No.” Yangyang quickly shook his head. “They weren’t for any sort of sort of critical functions, as those would’ve been in her factory impressions, and they won’t spread to any other pathways that are currently being used.”
“Good.”
“Did this tell you anything about Aegeum?” You questioned nervously.
The roboticist tapped the eraser end of his pencil to his paper. “This is one of the most advanced positronic brains I’ve seen, and I’d love do another mapping in the future, if you’d let me.”
“Why does it sound like you’re hedging, Liu?” Kun cut in.
“But… I can only learn so much under the current circumstances.”
“You’re not opening her skull up.”
“That’s not what I was going to say!” He defended himself. “I meant… she’s not a robot. I can’t study her like one. I’m not even 100% what parts of her are flesh and blood and which aren’t, other than the positronic brain.”
“Do you think we should call Dejun here too?” You suggested.
Kun hesitated. “Why?”
“Well, we know I have a positronic brain, but the field scanner and the infirmary scanner thought I was plenty human enough when he tested me. And, I obviously bleed, sleep, and eat too.”
“She’s right. We thought we were on the trail of… something else down on Aegeum. Getting a doctor’s second opinion on the fleshy parts couldn’t hurt,” Yangyang offered his support.
Kun approached you, holding your gaze seriously. “Are you sure about this? The more people know…”
“I trust Dejun,” you affirmed. “I trust all of you.”
“Go get him, Liu,” Kun directed. ZEN had been put on a blackout again for the actual mapping, meaning that he couldn’t just ask the AI to page him.
“On it!”
“You’re fucking with me,” Dejun deadpanned.
“Nope.” Yangyang shook his head, feet kicked up on one of his workbenches, having just explained why he’d dragged the doctor to the robotics lab.
“Y/N doesn’t get Earth humor, fine. But how did you get the captain to go along with this weird as fuck joke, Liu?” Dejun pointed to where you and Kun were standing off to the side.
“It’s not a prank!”
“She bleeds!”
“I know.”
“And breathes! And sleeps! And eats! And has vitals that can be picked up by diagnostic scanners!”
“Those only look for the presence of an illness or disease, right? Or abnormal heartrate or breathing?” Yangyang pointed out.
“Yeah…”
“So, an absence of certain things wouldn’t register. She’s got a heart and lungs, as best I can guess.” He continued, “Positronic brain confirmed. Everything else… we’re a bit less certain about.”
Your friend looked over at you, squinting in clear confusion, then back to Yangyang. “I… Huh?”
“Need a consult, Doc,” Yangyang grinned.
You sat down again for Dejun to start his exam. He brought over a few things from the infirmary, one of which was an ordinary stethoscope. He put the earpieces in his ears, then held the other end up to your chest. Everyone was silent as he listened.
“Yeah, okay, heartbeat. It’s… normal. Normal resting heartrate,” he murmured. “I’m going to listen to your breathing now.” He moved it to another place on your chest and paused again. After a moment, he switched it to his other hand and gently touched the back of your shoulder. “Forward.”
You leaned forward for him to reposition the stethoscope, and at the same time out of the corner of your eye, you could see Kun tense up and unfold his arms.
“Xiao,” Yangyang said urgently.
“What?” Dejun paused, sounding annoyed to have been interrupted.
“The Three Laws. Careful with your requests,” the roboticist reminded him.
“Don’t order her around,” Kun said more bluntly.
Dejun blinked and looked down at you, clearly startled out of his usual routine for an exam like this. “Oh. Right, sorry. Forgot you were… Sorry, Y/N.”
“It’s fine, Dejun,” you reassured him. “I didn’t… It didn’t process like an order.”
“I need to listen to your breath sounds. Can you take a few deep breaths for me?” He requested, looking between Kun, you, and Yangyang hesitantly, as if to see if he had said that correctly. When you felt him place the stethoscope on your back, you breathed in then out, deeply, as he had asked. After a few breaths, he said, “Okay, and normal breathing now?”
You evened out your breathing again, and he listened for a few moments, then drew back. Dejun took the earpieces out and hung the stethoscope around his neck, putting his hands on his hips.
“Well?” You prompted him.
“Those were definitely lung sounds. And I mean, you’ve already breathed into my field scanner, so I don’t know if it would’ve made more or less sense for you to not have them,” he declared. Next, he tested all your reflexes, then contraction and dilation of your pupils. “You have a heart, lungs, a circulatory system of some kind, and immune system, since you haven’t been bleeding uncontrollably from that cut you got. I’ve personally seen you eat, drink, sneeze, cough, and at least a dozen other normal, involuntary human reflexes.”
“Oh, about the cut…” You grabbed the end of your bandages, quickly unwinding them and taking off the pristine gauze that was underneath. Turning your hand, you displayed your unmarred palm.
Dejun took your arm to look at it closer, then looked at your other one as if to double-check that he was looking at the correct one. He held it up closer to one of Yangyang’s table lamps, running his fingertip over where the cut should have been.
“No scar?” He pushed on it with his thumb in disbelief. “Pain? Tightness? Muscle or tissue damage?”
“No, nothing. It’s been like this since the day after I cut it. I don’t know exactly how fast it healed, but it was less than a day.”
“Seriously?”
“I saw it when I went to change her first bandage. It was like nothing ever happened,” Kun confirmed.
“That’s…” Dejun trailed off and sighed. “Again, I don’t know if that makes more or less sense than her healing at a normal speed.”
“My turn,” Yangyang stood up, walking over to the x-ray machine that had started this whole thing. “Since the captain made me destroy the last image I took—Y/N, you mind?”
“Oh, sure.” You followed him.
“This is why you took my portable head x-ray machine?” Dejun asked incredulously as Yangyang got you situated, then went back over to his computer. “I thought you were just being a weirdo and wanted x-rays of your own head!”
“Xiao…” Kun’s voice held an air of warning. “Next time Liu is ‘being a weirdo’ like that, let me know.”
The process was as quick and painless as before, and you all gathered around Yangyang’s screen as the images processed and loaded up. Despite knowing what it looked like, somehow, you were still as baffled as before. Like there was still some part of you expecting a human brain. You didn’t know if it was the old order conflicting with your personal knowledge, or if you just couldn’t believe that that was your brain that you were looking at.
“Holy shit,” Dejun breathed out.
“Positronic brain,” Yangyang declared, as if it weren’t apparent enough to the doctor that he wasn’t looking at a human brain.
“Alright, I believe you now.”
Kun cleared his throat. “Liu—”
“Yep, deleting right now,” Yangyang quickly erased all the films he had just taken.
“Who knows?” Dejun asked you.
“Just the people in this room,” you informed him. “Even ZEN’s knowledge is somewhat limited, he’s on blackout right now.”
Dejun’s eyes strayed over to the captain.
“I’ve suspended us in slipspace and haven’t reported a word of this to Admiral Lee,” Kun answered his unspoken question, clearly bristling at the implication. “Nor do I intend to. Our story stays the same: We found a human survivor on Aegeum with amnesia.”
“I’d like to take some samples, if that’s alright.” Dejun’s focused back on you. “Blood, cheek swab, nothing invasive.”
“Sure,” you agreed.
Dejun took the cheek swab first, then prepared your arm to take the blood sample. Unlike the field scanner, which just needed a pinprick from your finger to get a quick rundown of your vitals, he apparently needed a bit more for the tests he wanted to run this time.
“Y/N, what you were saying earlier, about not processing Dejun telling you to sit forward like an order, what do you mean by that?” Yangyang asked as Dejun wrapped a band around your upper arm.
“I mean, I guess I knew that it was a request and not an order? Like, it didn’t shut me down like the order you gave me. I did what he asked, but there was no reason for me not to, you know?” You explained, trying your best to articulate the difference between the two experiences.
Yangyang tilted his head, his eyes once again glittering with that studious fascination. “How did you know it wasn’t an order?”
“I mean, his tone of voice, and the context? He was giving me directions for the exam, but it wasn’t really an order, right?”
“Oh my God…”
“What? She’s right. I wouldn’t have forced her to lean forward if she said no for some reason. I definitely didn’t think I was ordering her around,” Dejun scoffed, preparing the needle and collection tube. “Y/N, small pinch.”
You felt when the needle pierced your skin, but your focus was still on Yangyang, who was now pacing the room and gesturing furtively.
“Well, early robots did everything that any human told them to do, usually very literally. No room for sarcasm, no nuance. All orders were of the same level of importance. Then, they started being able to prioritize based on who gave an order, as they were given capabilities to create hierarchies of people in relation to themselves—only for the Second Law.” He then pointed to you. “But Y/N is the first I’ve heard of not only deciphering tone and context, but also then using that to determine if she was actually given an order or not.”
“So… what we do? Understanding social cues?” Kun arched an eyebrow, seeming unimpressed.
“That almost sounds like she doesn’t have a Second Law. Or at least not a very effective one, if she can think her way around it,” Dejun added skeptically. Having finished, he held a cotton ball to the site as he untied the band around your arm. “Here, I’ll get you a band-aid.”
“I don’t think you need to,” you reminded him quietly.
Dejun tentatively lifted up the cotton swab, and sure enough, there wasn’t any indication that you had just had a needle in your arm. No bruising, no blood, no small pinprick hole to be found. He silently nodded, turning away and bringing his materials with him.
Yangyang continued with his explanation, “Okay, think of it like this. We’re given a command, and based on tone, context, word choice, and other social cues, come to the conclusion that it’s an order. Despite knowing it’s an order, we can still choose not to obey it. Y/N, on the other hand, once she determines that she’s been given an order, she has to follow through. Like she said before, the Second Law shuts down her other systems until she’s executed it.”
“I’m not sitting there thinking it through like that… but yes, I think so,” you agreed.
“It all happens in less than a millisecond, like it does for us.”
Kun rubbed his face thoughtfully. “So she still has a Second Law, but what other robots might interpret as an order, and would therefore trigger their Second Law, Y/N might not interpret as an order, and wouldn’t have her Second Law triggered?”
“Exactly. Makes for much more natural interactions, especially if you want to treat the not-quite-robot you’ve made uh, not like a robot.”
“So, you guys think Y/N was… made there? On Aegeum?” Dejun asked, wincing over the word ‘made.’
“That’s the… working hypothesis,” Yangyang answered tentatively.
“So, she’s the proof of concept, then? Of the robot-people?”
You touched your forehead instinctively as a dull, familiar pain started up in your head again.
“Y/N?” Kun rested a hand on your back. “Your head?”
“Yeah…”
“We’re done,” he declared forcefully. No room for arguing.
Dejun looked between Kun ushering you to your feet, and Yangyang, who was watching the two of you somberly, with bewilderment and concern. “What’s—”
“I’ll explain in a minute, Xiao,” Yangyang said quietly. “Let the captain get Y/N out of here first.”
In your cabin, Kun sat you down on the single bed. He cupped your cheek to lift your gaze to him as he stood in front of you, eyes tracking over your face. “How’s your head?”
“Better,” you assured him, placing your hand over his. “You can’t be mad at Dejun, he didn’t know.”
“No, but I can be worried, and afraid of your head… of the fact that you have a self-destruct button that we can’t disarm.”
“I’m okay, Kun.”
“This time,” he added bitterly. “I get why you hate what I’ve been doing, with my enhancements degrading. The way I was acting. Why you called me a pathetic idiot. I don’t like seeing you like this either, especially when it doesn’t have to be happening.”
“You should tell the others, about me,” you said. “What I am, orders, the failsafe, everything.”
Kun sat down next to you. “Are you sure?”
“We didn’t know enough before. It would’ve been too much, for everyone. But we know enough to be able to tell them something, and to tell them what we don’t know. And you need to tell them everything. So nobody accidentally triggers the failsafe or gives me an order. Or asks why we aren’t at Earth in a week.”
He nodded with a resigned agreement. “And I have to tell them…”
“So you can speak candidly and they can ask whatever questions they need to. Without worrying about my head.”
“That’s not fair to you,” he stated.
You reached over to take his hand, lacing your fingers with his. “But it’s what will keep my head in one piece, isn’t it?”
Kun looked at the time on the wall clock above your cabin door. “There’s still a few hours before mess… Can I do it then?”
“Sure,” you chuckled. “Can I make a request in return?”
“Of course.”
“Will you sing for me?”
He looked at you with genuine shock. “Excuse me?”
“When you and Yangyang were talking about the piano earlier, I realized… I’ve never heard music.”
“God damn it… Hold on.” Kun moved around until he was sitting up against the headboard, then gestured for you to come closer. “Come here.”
“What?”
“I’m not going to do this with you looking at me. So—” He once again motioned for you.
Reclined back against him, your head against his chest and his arms around your waist, you definitely could not see his face from this angle. You were looking out at the desk and the dresser, in fact.
You half-expected him to try to dissuade you again, as he cleared his throat from behind you. But instead, the next thing you heard was the quiet, uncertain beginnings of a hum. He slowly added more words to the tune, every so often dropping back into a hum. His voice never rose above a quiet murmur right beside your ear, a performance just for you. It was a simple melody, only a few notes, and repeated over the few verses. But you found yourself enthralled the whole time, never wanting it to end.
His soft singing faded out, and he cleared his throat again, signaling the end of the song.
“Can you sing it again? Please?” You didn’t dare look back, not wanting to startle him from fulfilling your request, but you grabbed his hands tightly, hoping to pass along your enthusiasm through your touch.
“Really? It was just a nursery rhyme my mom used to sing. I don’t think I’m even a very good singer…”
“I liked it.”
“Alright,” he sighed, a tinge of fondness in the word as he leaned forward to press a featherlight kiss to your cheek.
So far, this wasn’t as big of a shitstorm as Kun had been expecting, really. The crew who didn’t already know were understandably shocked, but ultimately, let the other three finish briefing them with minimal interruptions or questions.
“So Y/N’s a…” The Professor trailed off, looking to Liu to fill in.
“Humanoid,” the roboticist offered tentatively. “So far the only robotic part we’ve found is her brain.”
“You say that like she has a prosthetic pinky toe,” Ten retorted. “It’s her brain.”
“Ten, come on, dude. It’s Y/N,” Wong scratched the back of his head awkwardly.
“I’m not saying we deactivate her or throw her in a cell or anything. I’m just trying to make sure we all understand the gravity of the situation.” The pilot sat forward in his chair. “She’s clearly the proof of concept that they were trying to preserve by doing a partial scrub. The question is what use is to she to them like this? No offense to her, Captain, I’m not calling her an idiot, I’m saying they erased her memories and convinced her she was a normal human. Whatever she was doing for them before the partial scrub, she doesn’t know how to do it now.”
“Maybe she has some component to whatever they were doing there that’s vital enough to risk her being discovered,” the Professor suggested.
“Right, Liu said they could have backed up her data externally. Maybe they were planning on this being temporary. They knew they were about to be found out for whatever they were doing, and had to get out, but couldn’t bring Y/N for whatever reason. So they make an external back-up of all her sensitive data with the intent of putting it back in later and, you know, picking back up where they left off. But they wipe it off her memory banks so if she’s found in the meantime, whoever finds her has nothing.”
Kun interjected here, “I’m telling you, Y/N didn’t—”
“You think they just kept one of the most advanced robots—sorry, humanoid—Liu has ever seen around a top-secret, illegal, unsanctioned lab for conversation?” Ten retorted, then seemed to catch himself, and added as an afterthought, “…Sir.”
“Captain, we all like Y/N…” Liu assured him.
“She’s one of us, just like ZEN,” Xiao jumped in to defend you as well.
“But that doesn’t mean we can ignore the fact that she was definitely involved in whatever was going on in that place. Somehow,” Ten argued.
“We don’t know how. Or if,” Kun reiterated forcefully.
The Professor quickly tried to smooth over the rising tensions in the room, “You’re right.”
“I mean, I just think it’s crazy that they took her memories from her—her entire life—and you guys are assuming that there’s going to be proof she did all this awful shit in there!” Kun was on his feet now, he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t stay in his seat another moment, not when a righteous anger was electrifying every inch of his being now.
“And you’re assuming that it’s going to be the opposite.” Ten remained seated, but no less impassioned then before.
“No, I’m saying we don’t know! So we can’t just treat her like a criminal because we’re assuming she’s going to be one!”
“Nobody’s doing that,” Wong tried to placate the captain now. He repeated, “She’s one of us, Captain.”
“She’s not here. We’re talking about her without her. That doesn’t seem like she’s one of us,” Xiao stated bitterly.
“Right, so you want her head to rip itself apart from the inside?” Liu reminded him.
“I would have preferred to be able to have Y/N here as well, but we needed the ability to discuss this openly without risking her safety,” Kun said regretfully.
“I hate this,” the doctor announced.
The captain sighed. “So do I, Xiao.”
“Uh, I feel like we’re all forgetting something here?” Wong spoke up hesitantly.
“What?” Kun asked shortly.
“Y/N’s a robot… kind of. The First Law? She can’t hurt a human.”
“She could’ve not known what they were doing,” Ten immediately proposed.
“Then that blows a hole in your whole theory that she was crucial!” The captain retaliated.
“There’s been loopholes found in the First Law before. Robots who were convinced some kinds of people weren’t humans. Robots who were convinced that hurting individual humans for the greater good of humanity was okay. And then of course, we have robot surgeons,” ZEN gave his own incredibly helpful input at that moment.
“Did I ask for a fucking encyclopedia article?” Kun snapped at the AI.
The Professor waved his hands to get everybody’s attention, declaring, “This conversation is getting us nowhere.”
Kun stood up straighter and rolled out his neck, taking a deep breath to recenter himself. This was not the level-headed leader he wanted to be for his first crew. “The Professor’s right. This isn’t productive. I wanted to debrief you all now since we know more, and also for Y/N’s safety.”
“Yeah, what was Liu talking about her head ripping itself apart from inside?” Wong asked, clearly concerned.
“The failsafe, that we had mentioned earlier,” Liu took over explaining this part. “Specifically, the mechanism is in her head, and the best that we’ve been able to figure out, it’s to prevent anybody who may have found her in her amnesiac state from finding out too much about the experiments they were doing, while also having her, uhm, intact.”
“She gets headaches, usually around stuff having to do with the people-robots on Aegeum. That’s the failsafe. If you’re talking to Y/N, or within earshot of Y/N, and her head starts hurting even a little bit, shut the fuck up. Talk about anything else,” Kun instructed, deadly serious.
“So it’s like a game of hot or cold of if we’re on the right track?” Ten tilted his head curiously.
“A game that we’re not fucking playing,” Xiao smacked his teammate’s arm. “Because winning means Y/N’s head exploding.”
“Why do you people assume the worst of me? Fuck…” he grumbled, rubbing his bicep. “I was going to suggest that we could try to reconstruct what was being talked about when Y/N got her previous headaches. Not give her new ones.”
“ZEN, look through your archives,” Kun instructed. “Next: Orders. Do not give her a direct order.”
“Y/N’s really good at distinguishing what’s an order, or direction, or suggestion, or question,” Liu clarified. “But so far, it seems like the word ‘order’ triggers her Second Law.”
“So like, what can we say to her? Like, if I’m fixing the coffee maker—” Wong got interrupted by incredulous sounds from the others. “—and she’s closer to the wrench, can I ask her to hand me it?”
“Yes, you can say ‘Can you hand me the wrench?’” Kun affirmed. “Just don’t be demanding, and don’t use the word ‘order.’ Third: No flying knives.” He was practically boring holes into Wong with his eyes.
“I haven’t done any knife tricks since that happened!” Wong defended himself.
“That goes for everyone. No doing stupid shit that could get you hurt around her. I don’t care if you’re willing to risk slicing your finger off because you’re spinning a knife around, unless you’re also willing to risk slicing Y/N’s finger off, don’t do it.”
“First Law. She will intervene,” Liu added, in case they had somehow forgotten about your positronic brain the past ten seconds.
“Uh, Captain…?” The Professor tentatively raised his hand. “We’re on a pretty dangerous mission. Does this mean you've changed your mind about keeping Y/N aboard?”
Kun’s brows were furrowed as he evaluated the options in front of him, none of which seemed like good ones. “Leaving her somewhere else in order to keep her safe in regards to the Second Law would require briefing whoever she went with about what she is, which would put her in an entirely different kind of danger.”
“So she’s staying?”
“I wish there was a better option, but yes.” The captain watched the uncertain glances that his crew were exchanging. “I’m not asking that this affect the way you do your job. However, outside of the mission, when you’re around Y/N, don’t be doing stupid shit you don’t need to be doing. She’s not made of metal. If it’ll hurt you, it’ll hurt her.”
There were murmurs of agreement and head nods, and Kun let out the breath he’d been holding unwillingly.
“Any questions?”
After everyone else filtered out to go to mess, Kun remained on the bridge, sitting in his seat at the head of the table. He held his head in his hands as a hologram of a green cube materialized in front of him. The captain didn’t even react, continuing to stare through the transparent projection.
“I think that went well, Captain,” ZEN declared. Kun couldn’t tell if the AI was taking pity on him.
“If the crew can survive this, I think we can survive anything,” Kun stated, not sounding very optimistic about the chances. Shaking himself out of his despondent spiral, he asked, “Where’s Y/N? At mess?”
“I let her know the meeting was over and she thought it best to wait for you, Captain. She’s in your cabin.”
“Thanks, ZEN. I’ll go see her.”
Mess wasn’t as awkward as you had been expecting. Sure, the crew had some questions, especially when you took your first bite of food, but they were all pretty tame, and seemed to come from genuine curiosity, not suspicion.
“What else needs to be done before the slipdrive can be reactivated, Captain?” Ten asked between bites of food.
“Xiao, how long will your tests take?” Kun turned to the doctor.
“Should all be done by tomorrow,” Dejun answered.
“Liu, anything else pertinent that we need to take care of before arriving on Earth?”
The roboticist let out a puff of air as he looked up at the ceiling, thinking. After a moment, he brought his eyes back down and shook his head. “Nah, all clear here.”
“Pending the results of the tests that Xiao is running, we’ll be turning the slipdrive back to propulsion soon.”
That got them excited again, one step closer to shore leave, the crisis of the evening almost completely pushed from the crew’s mind. Almost.
“Hey, Y/N,” Kunhang got your attention, mischievous grin on his face. “Xiao said something about how you’ve got super-healing. You up for a drinking contest on Earth?”
“You’ve watched way too many old superhero movies, Wong,” Dejun scoffed. “You think she’s going to have a superhuman metabolism and not be affected by alcohol, right?”
Ten, meanwhile, was laughing. “She’s probably never had a drink! She’s going to be a lightweight!”
And of course that set them all (including the Professor and Yangyang) off into a debate about, theoretically, based off what they did know about your physiology, whether or not you’d process alcohol like an average human or not. You looked over to Kun with amusement, and found his eyes already on you. Quirking an eyebrow up at him inquisitively, you didn’t receive a verbal reply, but instead he reached over to briefly squeeze your arm before dropping his hand back down to his lap.
“What’s Earth like?” You asked Kun as you prepared his injections that night.
“Tired of hearing about Dura-Jil?” He teased, settling in on his front.
“That isn’t the only place you’ve lived,” you pointed out. “And we’re on our way to Earth. I’m curious.”
“I didn’t go to Earth when I was 15. I went there after.”
He didn’t say it, but you knew where he had been in between Dura-Jil and Earth. The program.
“When you enrolled in the Academy?” You disinfected the injection area.
“Yeah. Couldn’t believe how blue that sky was…”
You aligned his first injection. “Is it a similar color the sky in the ag bubble?”
“Sometimes.”
Click.
“But Earth has weather, and clouds,” Kun continued, humor in his voice. “Central, the city that UHN Main is located in, it’s got all four seasons. I think we’ll be coming back in late summer. I kind of wish you could see snow. It’s got a big military population, Central, obviously, but the city’s so huge that if you can get a few blocks away from the UHN Main building itself, you can kind of forget that. As long as you don’t see a solder in uniform.”
As you listened to Kun gradually and sporadically paint you a picture of Earth, you could feel the soft, persistent smile on your lips, even as you had to switch out his med-pod, which didn’t make him falter or stutter. He was telling you about a restaurant within walking distance of UHN Main that he used to frequent when he was on Earth between missions when the second med-pod clicked again, signaling it had finished. You disposed of the materials and sat back down next to him, up by the pillow he was resting his upper half on.
To your pleasant surprise, he didn’t immediately roll over or sit up this time, simply looking at you over his arm. You ran a hand over his hair, dropping it down to rest it on his shoulderblade.
“I can’t wait for you to get your adjustments,” you sighed. “How long is the procedure?”
“An hour or so,” he informed you. “I’ll have Xiao wait with you.”
“Dejun should be able to enjoy his shore leave with the rest of the crew.”
“I’m sure he’ll want to wait with you anyway. It’s what friends are for.”
You stretched a finger out to trace his cheek with your fingertip. “Does it hurt?”
“No, I feel fine,” he promised. “Still doing good on two med-pods.”
“I meant the adjustment.”
“Oh, I’m under anesthesia for it. Don’t feel a thing.”
“And after?”
“A little stiff for a day or so, but after that, good as new.”
Before you could respond, there was a rapid-fire series of knocks on your cabin door, and you exchanged a bewildered, concerned look with Kun. You stood up as Kun slowly began shifting himself into a sitting position.
Dejun was on the other side, and you didn’t hide your confusion as you looked him up and down in his pajamas as he stood in the hall. “Uhm, hi?”
“Can I come in?” He requested quietly, his brow furrowed deeply, a look of worry cut deeply into his features.
“Sure.” You stepped back, opening the door further for him to enter.
“This couldn’t have waited until morning, Xiao?” Kun asked flatly, clearly disgruntled at the nighttime disturbance.
“I’m not Wong, I take no joy in this.” He gestured wildly to his surroundings and the three of you. “But no, this felt rather urgent.”
The captain sighed, “Go on…”
“The tests I was running. A few of them came back. I also ran another test on the sample from the lab on Aegeum.”
“I thought you already did all the testing you could with that sample. It was human, right? The other results were largely inconclusive.”
“Yeah, yeah. But I realized I could run another test, actually.” Your friend was clearly agitated about whatever it was, fidgeting, unable to stand in one place.
“And?” You prompted him.
He met your gaze, face clearly filled with regret and a deep want to not be saying this to you. “It’s a partial DNA match for you.”
“Partial? Like she’s related to it somehow?” Kun questioned.
“I wouldn’t exactly call it a familial connection… I sequenced the genes and they’re almost identical.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying, the differences in these genes wouldn’t come about from the natural shuffling of genes that happens during reproduction, or even familial variations. It looks… more precise.”
“Genetic modification?” You guessed.
“More like genetic design.”
“So Y/N and the sample you found…” Kun trailed off, and you weren’t sure if he didn’t know how to finish his own sentence, or didn’t want to.
“Same base DNA, different modifications,” Dejun did it for him anyway.
“Clones?” You could feel your eyebrow shoot up.
Dejun rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. “If you want to be crude.”
“And what’s the not crude way to say that, Xiao?” Kun snipped.
“I’m just saying, we don’t call identical twins clones…” The doctor replied levelly. After a beat of you and Kun still wrapping your minds around the information, Dejun cleared his throat and added, “The sample was all undifferentiated cells—stem cells—it wasn’t… developed like you are, Y/N. Uhm, for what’s that worth.”
“Oh, okay…” You said just to say something, grabbing your upper arms and holding yourself tightly.
“Anything else, Xiao?” Kun asked tersely, already getting to his feet.
“Nope, nope, I’ll show myself out,” Dejun scrambled for the door. “Sorry, goodnight, and uhm, sorry again.”
You heard the door close behind you. Looking up at the ceiling, you could feel the tears gathering in your eyes before you even knew why they were there. They easily eked out the corners of your eyes and slipped down your cheeks.
“What are we going to do, Kun…?” You whispered, your voice coming out as a nearly unrecognizable squeak.
“ZEN, set the slipdrive to propulsion.” Kun’s stern command made you turn your head towards him in confusion. But his brow was set with determination, just like it had been when he’d suspended it in the first place.
“Are you sure, Captain?” ZEN questioned an order from Kun for the first time that you’d ever heard.
“Yes. Then go on blackout.” After a beat, the cabin was quiet, save for your shaking breaths, and the sound of Kun’s feet as he padded over to you. He wiped his thumbs over the wetness on your face, holding your gaze steadily as he answered your question, “We’ll be arriving on Earth in two weeks. The crew will go on shore leave. I’ll give my full report to Admiral Lee about Aegeum, the human survivor we found there with amnesia, and Dr. Yoon being alive. I’ll get my tune-ups. If we have time, I’ll take you to a concert to see some real music, live. And then we’ll go where the Admiral sends us.”
Keep going. Don’t pick the scab.
You gulped. “What if he sends us to find Dr. Yoon?”
You weren’t sure if you ever wanted to see the man who made you, whose experiments, in one way or another, got all those people killed on Aegeum, who did what he did to Kun…
“Then that’s what we’ll do.” His voice stayed steady.
“You said Admiral Lee has never lied to you. Why are you willing to lie to him, for me?”
“I already told you. All I can offer is me. You’re the first person who I got to choose to give that to.” Kun smiled bittersweetly with his words, still cradling the side of your face, giving him the perfect view for when your tears rose back up. “Y/N? Are you okay?”
“I was just thinking about your program again. And Aegeum…” You admitted, bringing your own hand to your damp undereyes. “Do you still think you’re… not human?”
“I’m certainly an experiment that they didn’t plan on living this long. But I did, which let me meet you. So whatever I am, I’m lucky.”
“Then we’re two experiments, created for something, and choosing each other instead.”
Kun chuckled softly. “You know, I actually think I like that a lot better than cyborg or humanoid or clone or whatever else.”
“Me too.” You wrapped your arms around his waist to hold him closer. “I love you, Kun.”
“I love you, too,” he murmured, pressing his lips to your forehead.
⇢ series masterlist | blog masterlist
#kun x reader#wayv x reader#nct x reader#kun imagine#wayv imagine#nct imagine#kun#qian kun#wayv#nct#i: kun#f: frankenstein complex#fc: 4#writing#text#mine#bias tag#kunkun
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The Black House
Sirius Black & F!Reader (Sirius's Daughter)
Mention of a Neville Longbottom x F!Reader Pairing
30 Day Fic Challenge (17/30)
Word Count: 2.7k
A/N: First time every writing for the Harry Potter Universe!
Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Angst, follows the timeline for Order of the Phoenix.
All Writing Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @kmc1989
You heard the echo of his voice throughout the house and it was still shocking to you. While in the grand scheme, it had been years since your father, Sirius Black, had been back in the family house, this wasn’t the first time you’d heard the voice in the house. He had been here all summer with you but it didn’t stop your stomach from dropping each time you heard him speak. The sound of him discussing the Order downstairs currently should have been unsettling but it gave you a comfort you had been longing for for years. Him back home.
It took you a minute to snap out of it when you heard your friends greet Harry in the room over. Despite you being in your room, the walls tended to be thin in all flat’s in London and this one, although magical, was no different.
Harry might as well have been your brother, Sirius looked at him as such, especially since his parents had appointed the man his godfather. Harry had asked you questions about Sirius, about who he was, what he was like before everything. But before you even had the ability to bring Harry down from reality he knew you probably knew just as much as him since you were around the same age when he was taken to Azkaban.
You didn’t bother getting up to go over, the three of them had a friendship that although they never intentionally left you out of it was easy to feel like the odd person of the group when it was just the trio. You didn’t mind, you had your group of friends, and when you didn’t, you knew you always had Neville.
Being the first one in the dining room meant all eyes were on you when people entered and you got to see everything that happened as well.
Sirius was beyond happy to greet Harry, it reminded you how long it had actually been since the two saw each other. You weren’t daft, the men must’ve exchanged owls, messages, Sirius was a fan of popping up in fiery places you had learned. But it was a reminder that he hadn’t spent the same amount of time with Sirius since he had been back like you did. That first summer after your third year at Hogwarts was a little hectic. There was no assurance that Sirius wouldn’t be caught and he couldn’t put anyone in that kind of danger, but this past summer, he moved back into the home he left to you and you got to create a lot of memories with him. He taught you magic that he’d use to prank his friends, spells that would get one out of a bind, he shared some of his favorite books with you, built you a new shelf to house them as well since yours were filled to capacity.
“You know, you can enchant your shelves? You’ll never run out of room.” He pointed to the stacks upon stacks on the shelving in your room.
“I know, but I rather like them this way, I can see each and every one whenever I want, with enchantment shelves, you never know what you have.” “Very well, I guess I’ll be building you a new shelf.”
When he said that, you assumed he’d toss a spell at something and your shelf would be built but instead he took an old piece of furniture and created something new by hand. He ofcourse added the enchantment to it.
“Just in case you need to hide a book or two.” He said before casting the spell on it.
It was one of your most enjoyable experiences over the summer, but the biggest one was dinner, everynight. You’d talk about so many things, your days, the books you were reading, the books he gave you to read, and you’d both gush about your favorite parts, argue about your interpretations of them.
“Well I’d like to think that the fade to black in the end was symbolizing that they both had moved on to the next obstacle in their life.” The wine glass was near his mouth as he spoke it.
“I mean, I agree, I just think that next obstacle is death.” You argued taking a bite off your plate. “It’s quite literally a rip of Shakespeare, I thought it was obvious the two would end in tragedy.”
“Quite literally a rip of Shakespeare?!” He boomed with a laugh, not even able to take a sip of his wine because he was astonished by your statement. “My dear girl, I have to get you some more cheery reads, you need to see the good in things.”
“I never said I didn’t see the good in it, just because it was a tragedy doesn’t mean it wasn’t happy. I mean, isn’t that how things become a tragedy? You have to feel the good first?”
You remembered Sirius’ face when you spoke those words, the smile on his face as you interpreted depth and emotion of a book at such a young age.
“Perhaps in tragedy its the thought of what could’ve been good that hurts the most.” He added to your statement and to which you agreed.
When he was your age he wouldn’t have been caught dead eating dinner with his family discussing books, let alone reading them the way you did, that was more a hobby he picked up as he got older, when he left Hogwarts and books weren’t forced upon him.
“Very well, then I shall get you some books with far less of a depressing ending. How does that sound?”
“That sounds good, Dad.”
It was the first time you’d let the title fall from your mouth, and you honestly hadn’t noticed it. Just like Sirius thought you wouldn’t notice the absolute grin on his face when the word fell from your mouth since he was hiding it behind the wine glass but when you looked up at him you saw it in his eyes.
But now all those memories, they ached differently when you saw Harry and him. They weren’t just reminders that you had so much more to catch up on with your father, but reminders that you were way ahead of Harry, who really had no one.
Before you could give it anymore thought, Tonks was sitting down next to you.
“Hi darling.” She spoke rather abruptly as she placed her beer on the table.
“Hello, Tonks.” You smiled.
“Where’s Neville? Thought he’d be here by now, was practically here any chance he could this summer.”
You smiled and felt your face get warm from a bit of embarrassment.
“Now, now, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about. When you find the right one, it just works.” She was looking off where Remus was standing, by Sirius and Harry.
“He’s with his grandmother, I expect him to be here within a few days, before–” Your sentence was cut off by the group of Weasleys coming in and making themselves comfortable.
The noise in the room got obnoxious between the lot of them, specifically Fred and George, and when the rest of the members of the Order came in there was no silence expected now.
“Before what?” You heard Harry’s voice was suddenly behind you.
“Harry.” Your legs shot up and moved to hug him. He embraced you back but you could tell he was looking for the end of the sentence you weren’t able to finish.
“Before your trial.” It was hard to look him in the eye when you said it.
“That’s enough of that,” Mrs. Weasly interrupted you both and a large amount of plates flew in between the two of you.
“Harry, come!” Sirius called out for him to come closer to his side of the table.
It was so like Harry to look at you, almost for permission, and despite it being your normal seat that Sirius was looking for Harry to fill, there was no jealousy or ill-will in your heart about it. “Go, I’ve listened to his stories all summer, I could use a break. Plus Tonks is my favorite dinnertime entertainment.” You pointed to the girl who was shapeshifting her face to different animals.
The fun didn’t last long, and to your surprise, the room got quiet once everyone had pretty much finished eating, the main conversation at the head of the table taking a turn to more serious talk which let the room fall in respect.
“What does the ministry of magic have against me?”
As Harry skimmed over the paper that showed just how much the Ministry did have against him, you felt your insides turn. Everyone here had the entire summer to wrap their brains around this, except Harry.
“We believe you Harry.” You felt that it needed to be said, but by the looks of everyone around you they thought best to leave the conversation to everyone else.
“Well, we do, don’t we?” You took their silence completely different.
“Of course we do.” Sirius backed you up with a nod.
That’s when Sirius began explaining how Voldemort was suspected to be building an army, much like before, and that this group had done the same. That was another thing you had spent the summer doing, recruiting more members of the Order, helping Sirius find people who went into hiding, those who were a part of things before. That’s specifically what Neville had come to help you with when he’d come by. His parents were a part of the original Order, it felt like his duty to them to help see this through now.
Despite the stress of the night, it ended pretty enjoyably. Molly Weasley served dessert, there had been laughs at the table again, but once it hit midnight you found yourself sneaking back off to your bedroom.
“Waiting on an owl from Neville?” Sirius spoke as he crossed his arms in your doorway pointing to the open window.
You shook your head. “That and it helps drown out the sound of the company, I’m still not used to this house having so many people in it.”
“I’m sorry about that,” he was making his way to sit on the chair near your desk.
“It’s not your fault. I’ve told you that.” It was said frustrated but only because you really wished Sirius could understand that you never blamed him.
“I left you in the care of Remus, I know he’s not the most social, but Tonks, she’s a lot of fun.” It was like he was only speaking the words to convince himself that he had done the best he could. It was the only decent option, with him going away to Azkaban, your mother having passed when giving birth to you, it was either adoption or putting you in the care of a friend.
“Remus and Tonks are incredible caregivers, they watched over me.” You agreed with him. It was the truth, they did everything for you that a guardian should. Remus had been your guardian since Sirius went away. It was rumored that he adopted you, and no one corrected the rumor, if just anyone knew you were really Sirius Black’s daughter, it would have put you in serious danger. It wasn’t until you had started school when Tonks came into the picture and became your other guardian. They kept you safe, they kept you fed, they made sure every book and necessity each school year was in your possession, each summer they’d make sure to stay at the Black house with you so you felt at home, you spent most holidays with them. But what no one knew was, some holidays, when you’d tell Lupin or Tonks that you’d be staying at Hogwarts you’d come to this house by yourself.
“I used to come here by myself.” You spoke up to Sirius who looked at you confused.
“I’d lie, tell Tonks that I was staying at Hogwarts, say a few of my friends didn’t want to go home so I’d just hunker down there with them, go to Hogsmead, prank Filch, I really sold it, you know?”
“And you’d come here?” Sirius seemed shocked.
“I would. I liked being here alone. I just feel like I’m home here.” You shrugged, bringing your feet to sit criss crossed.
Sirius let out an astounded laugh. “I’m laughing because I absolutely hated it here growing up, I’m glad it could be a safe haven for you.“ He frowned as the next thought came to his head. “What did you do when Remus was at Hogwarts?”
“The year he was our professor, I told him I was going to the Weasley’s.” You chuckled. “I actually got caught that year. I didn’t realize him and Arthur were close.”
“Can’t believe he didn’t tell me this when I was back.” Sirius was grinning seeing his troublemaking ways shine through in you.
“We had many other things happening,” you spoke obviously, “plus, I didn’t make it a habit to lie or act out, I earned a couple along the way.” Your hand instinctively ran over the fresh tattoo you had on your arm.
Sirius’ eyes dropped down to see what you were doing. “The skin won’t be raised forever. It’ll subside.”
You quickly brought your sleeve down, completely unaware of what you were doing.
“No need to hide it now.” He was sitting so his arms were resting on the back of your desk chair. “I sense that was one of the reckless bouts you earned from Remus.” He tried to get a look at what you had gotten tattooed.
“Um, no. Remus, I don’t think knows about this. No one does, besides Neville.”
The thought of Neville Longbottom knowing secrets about your body boiled Sirius’ blood in a way any father would feel, it truly had nothing to do with Neville, if anything he supposed he should be grateful it was a young boy like Neville who had stolen your heart and not someone with ill intention. That’s what made Sirius think.
“You took Neville Longbottom to a muggle tattoo parlor?”
“It wasn’t a muggle shop, it was down in Diagon Alley. Nearly fainted the poor boy.” You let out a laugh. “But he stayed there with me the whole time. Even told the wizard giving me the tattoo to lighten up his grip.” Your nostrils flared as you let out a sincere laugh this time remembering the moment.
“I think I quite like that boy.” Sirius was laughing along with you. “Well, let’s see it then.” He was looking over the chair waiting for you to show him the tattoo.
You raised your sleeve and the symbol that sat at his sternum was minimized and placed on your forearm. He stared at the familiar ink for a few minutes trying to understand why this one.
“I’ve been practicing my animagus form and I finally got it.” It was a mumble, you weren’t really sharing that information with anyone, again besides Neville, but this was different.
Sirius was amazed, his face was full of joy. “You’ve gotten it down in such a short time?”
“Two summers.” You shrugged, the idea was put into your head after you saw your father for the first time since you were a baby.
“Merlin’s beard.” He whispered and then took another look at the tattoo. “And you’re a?” He looked down at your arm.
“A wolf. An arctic wolf to be more precise.”
Sirius was grinning. “You do know that this symbol means a gray wolf, right?”
“What’s your excuse?” Your eyebrows raised clearly aware of the mistake but calling out Sirius for the same thing. He turned to a black dog, not a gray wolf.
There it was. That’s what Sirius was thinking at the quick witted response of the girl. There he was.
Before he could say anything there was an owl arriving at the window.
He was standing up knowing that was his cue. Looking around at the room, seeing photos of your life, the bookshelves, the tiny potions station that was next to the window for ventilation of course, and then back to you. He wished he didn't miss so much of your life, he felt like one moment you were a little baby and the next you were this teenager. It was sort of true, he missed the time in between. Now you were getting owls from boys, one boy, he had to remind himself. Neville. He liked Neville. He placed his hand on your shoulder and squeezed before moving to leave your room.
“Tell Neville I say hello.”
#Harry Potter#Harry Potter Fanfiction#Harry Potter Fanfic#Neville Longbottom#Sirius Black#Sirius Black & Reader#Sirius Black x Reader#Sirius Black's Daughter#Neville Longbottom x Reader#Neville Longbottom x You
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Word Game Wednesday - "Mine"
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When Price speaks again, his voice is low enough that John has to strain to hear him.
"I feel responsible. I knew something was going on between you two. I should've put a stop to it."
"Wouldnae have made a difference. I was gone on 'im long afore anything happened 'tween us."
"Still—"
"No' yer fault, Cap. S'mine for bein' a goddamned fool, and Simon's for makin' me think he..."
John lets the words trail away, but the unspoken ending screams inside his head and stabs into the tender flesh around his shredded makeshift heart all the same. He pushes his glass forward and raises his hand, motioning to the bartender for another.
#soapghost#ghostsoap#ghoap#COD#Call of Duty#COD MW reboot#ficwip#word game wednesday#broken bones and shattered hearts#post canon fix it#have I mentioned there's a lot of angst in this fic?#breakup/makeup fic#MacTavish doesn't go by Soap because of the discharge and doesn't go by Johnny because of the broken heart#So John it is#Which is why Price is always referred to as Price in this fic XD#hoping I'll get to post chapter one soon#OG Starlight
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But for the vampire au, have you considered Emmet getting Severely Hurt™️ and Ingo turning him to keep his brother alive?
Or do they have an agreement to just let things happen?
“No.” Emmet responds simply, decisively.
The answer is expected and yet, the disappointment Ingo feels is an unwelcome heaviness, his constant frown turning genuine without it meaning to.
Ingo had asked the very same question thrice times now.
Once was when they were kids. It was casual inquiry that came with little prompting; he had asked out of curiosity more than anything. Ingo had asked Emmet after they had defeated a trio of challengers off hand. Emmet had laughed, light and airy, when he answered. They had gotten ice cream using their winnings after.
The second time had been following a much more harrowing experience. A safety check forgotten, a simple mistake by a depot agent newly hired, had resulted in a derailed train. Fortunately only a few were injured. Unfortunately, one of those few was Emmet.
Ingo had asked him with bags under his eyes, something quite silly since Ingo didn’t even need to sleep. (Was that makeup? Emmet had joked with an exhausted smile.)
Emmet, laying in that hospital bed, IV's in his arm and a cask around his left leg, had responded much the same, a chuckle rather than a laugh. Perhaps his headache had come back to manage much more than that. Ingo didn’t attempt to change his mind and offered him the chicken noodle soup Elesa had brought for him.
And the third time was right now: Ingo sitting across from Emmet in the dining room of their shared apartment. It was morning and even though the windows curtains were drawn, the room was illuminated with a soft glow. In front of his brother was a plate of eggs and toast, him nursing a cup of black coffee. In front of Ingo was just a cup of tea, untouched and cooling.
“But why don’t you want to be a vampire?”
“But why don’t you want to be a vampire?”
The way he asks shows his cards far to easily. Whoever had said Subway Boss Ingo was hard to read must have not tried at all.
His brother looks at him, assessing him, and then looks away.
Emmet is silent for a minute, simply gazing at the cup in front of him. His food was getting cold.
Most would think Emmet was being hesitant when answering, that this was a sign he didn’t want to answer at all. But Ingo knows him well. He knows he wants to go over what he will day and that he voices his thoughts properly.
Ingo is patient and waits. Finally, Emmet answers.
“I like the sun.” His brother says, looking at him. The color of his eyes haven’t dulled all these years. “It feels warm on my skin. It feels good.”
“I love eating. The taste, the action. Yup!" Emmet picks at his plate with a hum. "I want to eat what I like, when I like."
“I like my independence." Ingo's tea leaves an ashy taste as he sips it - a floral chamomile bag floats at the bottom of it. "I do not want to be dependent on others. I do not want to be dependent on things out of my control."
"I know that I will have to sometimes." Emmet really looks at him now. "And that is ok. But I still feel the same way.”
Ingo squeezes his mug, before he relaxes his grip. Emmet notices.
Emmet lays his palm on his chest, closing it into a fist near the middle.
“I like being human.” It sounds final, the words like a gavel to wood, the way it echoes in his mind. “I do not want to be a vampire.”
Ingo wants to argue. To convince him that the pros outweigh the insignificant cons, but he does not. No. Usually Ingo is more eloquent with his words, but the fear that rises up in his throat makes his usually well thought out words more brisk, more succinct, more honest as he says the obvious.
“But you are aging.” Ingo says. You are dying, Ingo tries, fails, and a refrains to add.
Ingo hands are smooth, his face without a wrinkle. He looks as the same as he as when he first became a subway boss. He has since he was sent to Hisui. Forever youthful. And Emmet.
Emmet's hands are calloused, wrinkled from years of maintenance at gear station. His hair is thinning and his temples were turning white. His stride not as brisk as it was years ago.
“I am.” Emmet replies. “And I will continue to age.”
Ingo knows Emmet. He is stubborn, just like himself. That is how he is. He knows he will not change his mind. And that makes him clench his jaw, look down at his cup with furrowed brow.
“Ingo.”
Ingo snaps his head up, fear turning to anger that makes him feel sick. He should not be angry, but he is.
“Then you plan to reach your final stop?” Emmet’s smile dims. Ingo continues anyway. “Leave this station?” Without me? Ingo clamps down before he utters the accusation.
“You....you will have me wait here for you to die? And do nothing?!”
And there it is. Ingo barring his greatest fear since he got turned. The thing that has plaguing his mind since he stood at the grave of his old clan leader in Hisui, at the cemetery where his other wardens were laid to rest. What he had realized as he saw time passes by, years of constant goodbyes and tearful farewells.
It was that, no matter how grand his ideals, the simple truth of the matter was that he was utterly powerless to the passage of time.
Ingo doesn't realize that he has stood up until he is already towering over Emmet's seated form. His fangs barred and he suspects his eyes are slits.
And despite that, Emmet looks calm. He looks...sad.
“I didn’t ask for this.” Ingo says softly, deflated as the anger leaves his body. To live on as those around him pass. To see enjoy his life without the people he cares most around him.
Ingo feels arms wrap around him and he wraps trembling arms around Emmet too, his head laying on his shoulder. They stay like that for a moment, simply holding each other, not letting go.
"I'm sorry I never gave you the choice." Emmet finally says. Ingo's hands grip at Emmet's shirt. "We were young. You were dying. And I was desperate. I did not want to lose you..."
Emmet pulls back after that, not all the way, but enough to look into Ingo's face. His fangs have retracted, his eyes normal again. "But those details do not matter now, do they?" Emmet sighs out, that sad smile still there.
"They matter. Of course they matter." Ingo protests, but he doesn't elaborate pass that.
Emmet looks at the floor, thinking about his words and looks at Ingo again before saying, "Everything reaches its final terminal."
"Not me." Ingo says. It comes out bitter.
"Everything does." Emmet repeats, shaking his head. He squeezes Ingo's forearm before he lets go. "I did not give you a choice. but you can choose for yourself now."
His brother’s crows feet, a result from decades worth of smiles, crinkle at the edges as he looks at him. "Just as I choose for myself."
Ingo dwells on those words, on what his brother is offering. A choice and a decision to make. Emmet looks at him and Ingo understands.
With a sigh (a concession, a compromise), Ingo nods and accepts Emmet's answer.
That heaviness Ingo feels is not fully gone from his mind, but it has lightened, the tension of the room dispersing like the morning fog.
Emmet notices, smiles, and sits back down to finish his breakfast. Ingo follows. And then the silence is filled anew with his brother's latest retelling of yet another dealing he had with a rude passenger yesterday.
Ingo listens and they both laugh and talk and all is right and as it should be that morning, in their shared moment of time.
Him and his brother were a two car train, always have been, no matter their differences. And no matter what, he was going to be there with him until his brother's final destination.
And then after that, once that engine has long gone cold, Ingo would decide when his last stop was too.
#AH HA WHOOPS I MADE IT A FIC LMAO#the idea that ingo will outlive emmet one day is one I think about a lot#on a more hopeful note people have mentioned ememt could very well just turn into a ghost pokemon so that they live both forever?#technically?#vampire au#vampire ingo#submas#emmet#kudari#nobori#ingo#pokemon#pokemon fanart#fanart#pokemon fic#fic#long post#angst#??? i think sksks#it ends bittersweet
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Whumptober Day 28: “We might not make it to the morning; so go on and tell me now”
Read it on Ao3
- Time/Malon
- Summary: an injured Link shows up at Lon Lon Ranch
CW for blood and injury, mentions of death and broken bones
——————————
Malon’s hands never shake.
She can’t afford for them to. Sure, there are times when they are a bit unsteady from exhaustion or stress. Sure, there are things that scare her enough to make them trembling a possibility. But in her world, when things get hairy there is only action and no time for anything else.
Now is no different. At least, that’s what she keeps telling herself. Her hands don’t tremble, even as blood oozes over them. Her thoughts don’t falter. No tears fall.
But they want to. Oh, they want to. Because this time feels so very different. She has dealt with wounded animals before and even wounded people (she will never forget the time Ingo got kicked in the leg by Epona; satisfying though it may have been after the man’s behavior, setting that bone wasn’t exactly what she would call enjoyable). Never before, however, has she held the broken body of someone she cares for quite so much.
“You’re an idiot, fairy boy,” she breathes as she presses another cloth to the gash running across her friend’s middle.
“‘m your idiot, though,” he mumbles back. Even now there is characteristic mischief peeking out from behind the exhaustion and pain straining his tone.
Malon rolls her eyes.
Link has been bleeding all over her nice, clean floors and furniture for at least five minutes now. And that’s after he rode in, slumped over Epona’s back, one hand pressed to his stomach, the other clutching the horse’s reins like a lifeline.
He had come because he had nowhere else to go, he had said when she had stepped out onto the porch, eyes wide and heart in her throat. Because he could think of nowhere else that would be safe. Where he would be accepted without hesitation.
And as she had helped him down from the saddle, as he had practically collapsed onto her arms, he had apologized. Assured her he would take care of the wound himself, if only she would provide him a place to stay. As though he were a stranger in her home and not her best friend.
“Oh, shush,” she had scolded, ushering him into the house and lowering him onto the nearest chair. “I’ll take care of everything. You just sit down.”
And meekly, he had obeyed.
Now, he watches her with a slightly dazed look, as she tries to save his life.
For that is what she is doing, really. If she doesn’t get this wound to stop bleeding soon, he’ll bleed out.
As it is, she’s afraid he won’t last the night.
She worries her bottom lip and reaches behind her for the bandages lying on the table.
“Care to tell me how this happened?” The sharp bite of fear is in her tone despite her attempts to restrain it.
And really, who cares at this point, anyway? Her fairy boy is hurt, badly. She’s allowed to be a little worried.
Link drags in an unsteady breath.
“Monster fight.”
“The usual, then.” She shakes her head, sighing. “What I wanna know is what kinda monster fight was it that got you this hurt? I don’t think you’ve ever come around looking like this before.”
Link blinks, long and slow. The blue of his eyes seems unnaturally bright. Maybe because of the light, maybe because of pain. Malon thinks it’s likely both. But it almost reminds her of that little fairy that used to follow him around.
“Did you go into a dungeon or somethin’?”
Her gaze is back on her work, now, as she ties the bandages as tightly as possible. But when he speaks she can hear something almost like guilt in his voice.
“I—” A sharp hiss, fingers fisting in the fabric of his tunic. Malon murmurs an apology, trying to ignore the way the sound is like a dagger to her heart. “I was looking for…for something.”
“Lookin’ for something huh?”
She ties off the gauzy strips of fabric now practically holding the man together and takes a moment to survey her work.
That should hold.
Now, to get that bleeding firmly under control before he passes out…or worse. She grasps the bottle of potion that she had snatched from the cupboard earlier. It’s always handy, she has found, for times when the healing power of Lon Lon milk isn’t quite up to par. Times like now.
“That had better have been one important treasure. Did you get it at least?”
A small smile lifts Link’s lips. Somehow, it doesn’t make him look any more alive. He’s too pale, too ashen. There’s too much blood, coating his tunic, coating his hands and dribbling down from his mouth and nose.
But at least he has the strength to smile. Malon is willing to appreciate small miracles.
“Yeah, I got it.”
Something in the way he says it makes her slightly suspicious. But she hardly has time to figure out why. She wipes her hands on a nearby cloth, quickly so as not to take in just how stark the crimson looks against the white. Then, she uncorks the potion bottle and gets to her feet.
Link moves trembling, crimson drenched fingers toward the bottle. But she shakes her head.
“Uh-uh. You’re weak. Let me.”
With one careful hand, she tips his chin up and holds the bottle to his lips with the other. He swallows its contents obediently.
“That should help,” she says, once he’s finished. She turns away, setting the bottle back on the table. “At the very least you won’t be bleeding everywhere anymore.”
“Thanks,” he murmurs. He sounds a bit stronger already, she thinks. But maybe she’s just fooling herself to distract from the worry currently chewing a hole in her gut.
“Anytime, fairy boy.”
Malon inspects the wound one more time, reassuring herself that it’s no longer in danger of bleeding through the bandages. Thankfully, the potion already seems to be doing its job. The bandages remain a clean, cottony white.
“Looks like you’re out of the danger zone,” she says with a sigh of relief. “But you’re gonna need some rest and a new set of clothes.”
She looks over him once more, frowning. He raises an eyebrow.
“What?”
“I’m gonna have to tend to those other wounds of yours too. I swear, you look like you let the horses trample you.”
There is a distinct twinkle in his eye now. Already, he is beginning to look a little more like himself.
“Ah, it’s a…a good look then. A seasoned adventurer kind of look.”
Her lips quirk up even as she glares at him.
“No. It’s not a good look. I thought that much was implied. And it’s the kind that gives me a heart attack.”
He grins. But it quickly turns into a grimace as she sets about cleaning a cut along his neck. Gently, she tilts her head to get a better look at it.
“Stay still, now, and let me work.”
He mumbles a tired-sounding reply. His eyes are beginning to drift closed, despite his efforts to keep them open. And as she tackles each injury, he grows closer and closer toward losing his grip on consciousness completely. But the time he is cleaned up and she has managed to help him fumble into one of Talon’s spare tunics he is practically asleep.
“There,” she murmurs, setting aside the bowl of water and multiple cloths that she had used. They tinge the water pink. “Feelin a little better now?”
She knows that she is. The terror of earlier has abated somewhat, every steady breath, every beat of his heart convincing her that the danger is gone. At least, for now.
For now, her fairy boy is safe. For now, her hands don’t shake.
He hums, sleepily. His gaze is trained on the fireplace now, seemingly mesmerized by the flames dancing there. But when she drapes a blanket over him he drags his gaze up to meet hers.
“Hey, Mal.”
“Yeah?”
“I…I think I’m in love with you.” He frowns, thought obviously a difficult task at the moment. “No…know I am.”
Malon stops short, edges of the blanket still clutched in her suddenly shaky hands. A short bark of laughter escapes, a bit louder than she means it to be.
“I think you’ve lost a little bit too much blood.”
“‘m fine,” he retorts, scowling. “Malon ‘m serious. I love you.”
Shaking her head, she tucks the blanket up around his chin and presses a quick kiss to his cheek.
“Alright, fairy boy. It’s time for you to get some sleep. We can pick up this conversation in the morning.”
His scowl becomes decidedly pouty, though he has little choice but to comply. His eyes slip closed, breath beginning to even out.
By the time, Malon has cleaned up the gory mess (she never wants to see this much blood again, especially not from him), and put away her tools, he is long gone. She allows herself a moment to gaze at him, slumbering peacefully, face illuminated by the flickering flames. He is less pale now and with the blood gone he looks more human. Younger, more like himself.
Reaching out, she rubs her thumb on his cheek, a smile playing on her lips.
“I love you too, Link.”
#whumptober 2023#no.28#‘we might not make it til morning; so go on and tell me now’#linkeduniverse#fic#blood tw#injury tw#mentions of death#mentions of broken bones#trin writes#lu time#lu malon#lu malink#hurt/comfort#angst#whump#posted this on ao3 last night#but didn’t have the spoons to post it here#it got a whole lot more fluffy towards the end than I meant it to#oh well#I can’t help it#I love writing malink especially pre-lu#they’re such dorks
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Another thing about the Y/N and Springtrap idea—or, Rabbit Restoration Project/R.R.P—Thanks to @ravenmccookies for helping me figure out a title.
Immediately after getting a bit far into the whole idea... I started thinking about how about this whole thing would actually manage to end. And, I thought of three versions.
So, if anyone wants to read any of that, here they all are:
1: The best possible way to end this whole thing in general. After a ton of shenanigans, bonding, etc—Springtrap simply chooses to remain with Y/N, who doesn’t mind that at all. Good ending.
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2: Despite everything that’s happened since Y/N and him first met, Springtrap chooses to leave. They don’t really know where he plans on going, or what he plans on doing.
Despite leaving, on occasion, Y/N still sees him around—and the rabbit chooses to have very quick visits. ...But those eventually stop. (Uh-oh, a certain fire happened).
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3: Like the first, Springtrap makes the decision to remain with Y/N after everything—however, he also makes the decision to head off to a pizzeria.
Confused, Y/N follows after him—and that’s when the Pizza Sim fire occurs. Springtrap fully dies in said fire... but, not before saving Y/N from it, letting them live.
:)
#Not a quote#FNaF#Rabbit Restoration Project (R.R.P)#Y/N#Springtrap#I doubt I’d ever write it—but I have so much to share#But if I ever did. And I got to the endings. I guess everyone would be like: ‘Oh- that’s one of the ones that he mentioned that one time’#But I still doubt it—it’s just a big idea that I wanna share a lot about#I’d draw related things if I could#Knowing me (who loves angst) I think I know which I like the most#But I’m still choosing between the three at the moment either way#Maybe I’ll try to write a few *little* things here and there—but not like. a full fic#Who’s interested in this?
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I have. also. read a lot of fanfiction this year. and some of it has been truly transcendently good. so, mutuals, knitting circle, beloveds: reblog and tag with the best fanfiction you’ve read so far this year.
#mine are!#the cor et cerebrum series by audreycritter#which is the batfam fic with the best emotional catharsis and the best characterization and made me cry a lot a lot a lot#every moment of every day I am fighting the impulse to read it a third time in about as many months#the under the bed series by thosefivechicks#which is the vampire au (!!!!!!) batfam fic with just GLORIOUSLY perfect angst and also perfect characterization#and did I fuckin mention the vampires#and:#the Figurehead by thelonelybrilliance#she’s always the best but damn this fic is so good#fics are often very limited and small and I love that about them#but the figurehead is VAST and it is handling stranger things’ massive cast and many emotional journeys#better than any full cast story I have ever seen or read#also emma if you want to write three dozen stories wherein nancy tends to steve’s s4 wounds I will read every single one#(if this post becomes another semi-viral malady I will promptly cry about it)#(but mutuals knitting circle beloveds I do really want to know)
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Link
Chapters: 3/3
Fandom: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Hershel Layton & Flora Reinhold, Hershel Layton & Randall Ascot, Randall Ascot & Flora Reinhold
Characters: Hershel Layton, Flora Reinhold, Randall Ascot
Additional Tags: Fencing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort
Summary:
Layton— finally— teaches Flora how to fence… with a bit of help from Randall.
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The society gains a new student: Katia Anderson.
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OR: Hershel deals with his trauma while teaching others to fence.
#professor layton#hershel layton#katia Anderson#flora Reinhold#mr Anderson#Here we have a rare case where a character doesn’t have a FIRST NAME#I dub him JAMES ANDERSON#The Gressenheller fencing society#No Randall this chapter- he’s gone home to his unborn baby- but he’s mentioned#my fics#my writing#If you like Hershel angst… there’s a lot this chapter
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Becoming obsessed with a new show is so insane like I'm not even finished with S1 of LR but here I am sitting with a 17,200+ word outline of a fic that isn't even half conceptualized along with five other +2,500 word outlines that also aren't half conceptualized and about 25+ fic ideas jotted down in my notes. I'm feeling completely normal about Lab Rats 🫶
#and ngl I feel nervous to even potentially share these some day if I even continue writing#I say that because I wrote a few pics for my other fandom but then I just lost motivation to write when I became less obsessed with the sho#but I'm not even knee deep into LR and now I have all these fic ideas so I'm hoping my motivation won't fail me now#not to mention almost all of these pics involve a somewhat obscure character *cough cough* look at url *cough cough* that from what-#I've seen the fandom feels iffy about that character so it's honestly just me writing fanfics for myself if I think about it tbh#but I love angst and he has such good angst potential and yeah he's not well written and is honestly a comedic relief character in a way#but I have notes on him and think he's an interesting concept and he could have been so much more (and better written in S3 & 4)#oh yeah I have a lot ideas for art stuff too it's just that I need to practice more before I feel comfortable enough to put stuff on here#anyways if anyone read my tags here's a gold star for reading my crazed thoughts ⭐️#personal
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the urge to start a one shot series where every one shot is based off a track from a taylor swift album grows stronger every day
#ive mentioned this b4 i think#god. i just keep listening to songs then getting ideas#like. reputation has so many good lyrics that i could turn into fics 4 so many characters#but also lover. but i wouldnt know what to write for me! & yntcd. bc those r more yay me love songs ya know#i cant just skip tracks. like id have to do all of them.#red would be good for some angst.... so would evermore#folklore would be a decent mix i think. i could make the love triangle all connected too#see a lot of the problem is there is like one or two tracks idk what to do for on each album.#like if i did evermore what do i do for no body no crime#folklore is winning in the sense that each song could be oneshot ified pretty easy. ik its kinda basic but#i have so many ideas and so little organization#lmao
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🤡 What’s a line, scene, or exchange you’ve written that made you laugh?
✨ Give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it. 😉 (YOU REALLY DO THOUGH)
and 💔 Is there a fic of yours that broke your heart?
<3
you're sure going for whiplash in this gfhjdks
This little bit from Saros, which is probably my favorite non canon chapter:
Just... Robin, usually having fun with the exact same lies as Dawn, pointedly lying about a scar to make it harmless for a change but a targeted attack to Dawn's pride (followed by these bastards - plural - turning it into the promise of a date fghdjs), it's a fun little scene!
So, for the compliment: I have some real banger lines. Some of them are unintentional, and I just get people screaming after and go "nice", and some are intentional and I expect the screaming (and some are bangers only to me). It's always fun to include these, both intentionally and unintentionally - the payoff for intentional ones is amazing, and the ego boost of "oh, that hit good?" is also just so good <3
A fic of mine that broke my heart... Well, the other one up on my ao3 nearly did with lack of engagement, not gonna lie. Still gotta see when I'll return to it </3
As for thematically, well. We all remember the worst case scenario (linked to fix it, but still cw for death and grief) - a little what if that broke me so thoroughly I had to swoop in and undo it. It'll be the only time I write death because it hurt me much much more than I expected, and I frankly did not enjoy feeling like that about something I wrote. The reactions were fun as in I enjoy people screaming, but my own lack of enjoyment makes it hard for me to think fondly of it (sorry to anyone who wanted me to write Y/N death too)
#answer let luce#chaotikanvas#ik I mention that fic a lot and I do want to state I'm not looking for pity reads#the fics are very very different and not just bc of the source media#but I have no qualms to write for myself only I do it a lot and I love it#that fic I published TO share#to have people engage with it#so that's why the silence hurt#but for now the brain is fixated on sun and moon anyway so#also I looked thru the chapter index of au on ao3 to find smth funny and.#“no this was angst - hurt comfort - angst - pain - I really just am like this huh” fgdhsjk#special thanks to clockwork for being normal about very specific lines and saying so and thus confirming to my brain they are bangers#glad to know that stuff comes across hehe
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