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a-monsters-love · 4 years

Text

Hit with a quirk that turns adults to children

Shoto Todoroki x Reader

Genre: massive fluff. angst if ya’ squint

Warnings: implications of abuse, little OOC Shoto but its cannon that he smiled more when he was a kid (the gif is a perfect example)

A/N: FIC SWAP WITH @hxwks-gf ILY2 SWEETS - You’ll find her fic [here]

(Y/N) = Your name

(E/C) = Eye color

(H/C) = Hair color

[Master List]

—————

“How could this happen?” Endeavor hissed at Aizawa.

Aizawa, who looks like he’s about to explode on the man in front of him, lets out a deep sigh. “As I said before, Shoto got hit with a civilians quirk. It should wear off in the next couple days.” Endeavor scowls at you as you cross your arms and deadpan at him, your frame standing protectively in front of a now child Shoto. Shoto’s been holding on to you desperately for the past few hours since the incident, only letting go once to get changed into the smallest gym uniform the school could provide.

You offered to hold him but he chose to take refuge in the back of your legs rather than face the situation. The two of you had been working together on a project for Aizawa when you ran into villains on the street, at some point Shoto had a run in with a civilian who accidentally turned him into a child with their quirk. The face of despair and unbridled childlike tears that welled up in his eyes will haunt you.

“I don’t have time for this.” Endeavor groans, he pulls out his phone and calls Fuyumi. She’s a school teacher she should be able to handle this, right? After about 20 minutes of light bickering on the phone, he comes back. Neither of his siblings can help and his mother is ‘sick’.

You look back at Shoto’s shaking frame and take a deep breath, “I’ll take him.” The two heroes look at you with raised eyebrows. “As Aizawa already knows, I have the next few days off for personal reasons. Which means I have plenty of time on my hands to take care of a kid.” You squeak through the tension in the air.

Aizawa sighs, “Are you going to be able to handle it though? With everything going on?”

You laugh softly and rub little Shoto’s head, “I’m great with kids, and I could use the company.” You smile sadly at your teacher, who only nods in response.

Endeavor huffs and kneels down to Shoto, who hides himself further in your knees. “Contact me if anything happens.” He says looking at you.

“Of course, sir.” You had your suspicions before about Shoto’s childhood, this only brought the situation to light. Never have you ever seen the calm and collected Shoto petrified enough to have him in tears. “I will be running by your family home to pick him up a few different pairs of clothing. We don’t know how long this will last.” You tell him, you don’t bother asking. You don’t care for his opinion, he just needs to leave.

He nods in agreement and provides you the address and a vague idea on where to look. After he does, you scoop up your quivering classmate and speed walk out the door. He freezes at first but instinctually wraps his arms around you and buries his embarrassed face in your neck.

He hasn’t said a word since the incident and you don’t know how much of the man you know is still in there. As much as the idea of your crush burying his face into your neck makes you blush, protecting him is your first priority.

You quickly make your way to the Todoroki residence, well, as quick as you could. Shoto quietly asked to be put down about half way there, you walked as quickly as his little legs could comfortably take him.

When you arrived you looked at the note Endeavor gave you once more, “Alright, so, your father said there’s should be a box in the attic with your old clothing.” You squatted down and smiled at him, a small embarrassed expression was still present on his face. “Do you want to look with me, Shoto?”

He glances at you with a blush, the two of you weren’t on a first name basis outside of fact that his Hero name is his first name. Honestly you couldn’t find it in your bones to call a little kid by his last name, it felt too weird. He nods shyly, “Yes…(Y-(Y/N)…” His voice was almost a whisper.

You giggled a bit and finger combed out a few ruffles in his hair, “Wonderful, because I have no idea where your attic is.” The comment earns you a stifled laugh from the boy and he pulls you along by the finger.

After pulling down the latter to the attic you send Shoto up first, following close behind. You both cough at the dust but quickly find the boxes, after he pulls out a few outfits you inspect them for signs of deterioration. When you find no problems you both leave the attic and head down to wash the old clothing.

Shoto freezes as he passes through a hallway, the color has run from his face. “(Y-(Y/N)..” His voice shook as he stared at a door, you walk up to him slowly and offer your arms for him.

He awkwardly steps into your embrace, “Lets wash these at my house.” You say quietly, rubbing his back.

When you get home you walk in and show him where to put his shoes, “I’m home.” You say loudly to the nearly empty home. A meow is heard from upstairs and you wait as your old cat walks down the stairs to greet you. “Hello Cali, I’m home. I brought a friend.” You pet the cat who wasted no time rubbing up on Shoto. “This is Shoto, he’s going to be with us for a few days.” You explain to the cat, who meows lazily in return.

You chuckle as Shoto shyly pets the cat, “I’ve never had any pets before...” He says quietly.

You hum a bit and head to your wash room, “Well, you’ll have plenty of time to experience having one while you’re with me.” You smile at him, he slowly follows you poking his head around doors and entryways.

“Where’s your family?” He asks, noticing the lack of life in your house.

You croon at the question, “It’s just me and Cali. It’s been like that for awhile.” That was all you could manage on the situation as you made sure his clothing was set in the washer.

Regret is visible on his young face and he brought his hands to his mouth, “O-oh..I’m sorry..” He murmured towards the floor.

A chuckle escapes you, how can he be so cute? He looks up in confusion at you, “You did nothing wrong Shoto, you don’t have to apologize. Why don’t you go explore while I clean up a bit?” He nods at you and runs off, you walk up stairs and open up your little brothers old room. You move to open up the window and start dusting off the contents of the room when you hear heavy little feet making their way up the stairs. “Find anything interesting?” You ask.

Turning you see him carrying Cali, his arms scooped under the cats front legs in a manner that makes the beast look long. “You have a piano.” He says, you can hear stifled interest in his voice. Your heart breaks at the fact that a 5 year old is stifling their emotions.

“I do indeed!” You chirp while putting new sheets on the bed. “Do you like pianos?”

You can almost see the gears moving in his head. “They sound pretty.” He finally says, releasing the cat.

You chuckle as you finish cleaning up. “They do, my mom taught me to play when I was your age. She told me that music is the window to ones soul.”

It’ll be nice having him around, you think seeing him look at you in awe. “You can play it?” He asks, excitement can be heard in his voice for the first time.

“I can, I just had it tuned too.” You smile widely at him, glad his wall is coming down. “But first, we must bathe!” You scoop him up and tickle his stomach, “I think we’re both pretty stinky.”

He giggles from being tickled and then blushes at the idea of bathing with you. “Together?” He mumbles, you blush a bit at the comment.

“I-If you would prefer me being there, I su-suppose we could figure something out.” You stammer.

He doesn’t say anything as you walk to the bathroom and start filling up the bath when he pulls on your shirt, you look back at him and squat down. You tilt your head to the side, waiting for him to choose his words. “Stay?” He asks.

You smile, “Of course. Let me go grab a few things and we’ll get in.” You rush to your room and change into a bathing suit, grabbing your brothers old swim suit from his dresser. You hear a loud splash as you walk back, you see Shoto wet in his clothing from the trying to turn off the water. “Someone’s excited.” You tease.

He looks at you with a distressed pouting face, “N-No I-.” He stutters as you move to turn off the water. “I was trying to do that..”

You laugh and offer him the shorts, as he changes you move to grab a few bath soaps and bubble bath. “I appreciate all your help, Shoto.” You say walking back, helping him into the tub. Both of you let out a small sigh as you sink into the hot water, causing small chuckles between you.

You scrub off some of the slime from the day and start pouring bubble soap into the bath. “What’s that stuff?” He asks.

“Oh-Ho. Bubbles of course.” You wink at him and quickly mix the soap to create bubbles. He helps you make bubbles, he giggles a bit at the action and then blushes.

Shoto doesn’t understand what’s come over him, his mind is still all there but he has so much less control over his emotions, let alone his behavior. He hasn’t meant to say half the stuff he has since the accident. He watches you happily go along with his childish antics as if the whole situation were normal. You smile at him when you catch him staring and scoop bubbles onto his head. “H-Hey!” He whines, pushing bubbles at you.

You laugh as he falls into you, the tub is smaller than you’d like but you’re content with space you have. “Careful there.” You scoop him up, you find his eyes wandering along the deep scars all over your body. You reached for the sponge, “Let’s get you cleaned up.” You say softly.

Without realizing it Shoto found himself sitting on your thighs, tracing the scars on your shoulder with his fingers. He jumped back when he felt the soapy sponge touch his arm. “I can do it!” He said louder than he meant.

You hand him the sponge and grab another to scrub yourself. You get out of the tub to rinse off and wash your hair before he’s done. “Come here when you’re done, I want to wash your hair.” You say, he just nods with a bright blush.

He gets out by the time you start putting conditioner in your hair. “I can wash my own hair..” He mumbles, awkwardly sitting in front of you.

“I know you can, but I want to.” You say quietly, this whole situation is like a fever dream for you. Getting to wash your crushes hair and satiating the hole that was left without your family? Win-win (Y/N). “I like doing these things.” You say as you put shampoo in his hair.

“Why?” He asks plainly.

You hum as you massage his scalp, a small sigh leaves him from the feeling. “I like spoiling people I care about.” You blush a bit at the statement, blaming the steam for the heat in your face.

“Y-you care about me?” The question broke your heart.

“Of course I do, I wouldn’t have brought you to my family home or shared a bath with you if I didn’t.” A smile can be heard in your words, he doesn’t say anything.

He sat with his thoughts as you rinsed his hair of shampoo and started applying conditioner. The ‘shared a bath’ comment running through his mind, partially clarifying the fluttering in his chest when he’s around you. Maybe I can ask these questions since she thinks I’m a kid mentally. he thinks, “Hey, (Y/N)?” You hum in response. “What does it mean when your belly flops around?”

“Hmm, in the literal sense or do you mean when you feel like you have butterflies in your stomach?” You ask, focusing more on detangling his unfairly soft hair.

“Like butterflies.” He murmurs.

“Well, it can indicate excitement, anticipation, nervousness but often times it‘s a sign of love-“ Your breath hitches in your throat are the last word, a deep blush taking over your face. You make a feeble attempt to finish your work.

You were so focused on trying to hide you embarrassment you didn’t see Shoto’s reddening face. He stood up quickly and grabbed the shower head from the floor. “I’ll r-rinse your hair.” He says, giving you no time to argue as he walked around you and started the rinsing the conditioner out of your hair.

Both of you felt like your heads were going to pop, while the feeling of his little hands in your hair provoked giggles from you. You reached back and helped him, he struggled getting out knots from your hair and elected to leave them for you to sort out. His small frame doing him no justice as his hands traced the scars on your back but froze. “It’s okay.” You said softly, letting his childishly addled mind explore. You imagined if you had children they’d would do the same thing. “Let me rinse your hair when you’re done studying.” You tease. The comment pulled him from his wonder and he sat in front of you.

After the bath you both changed into pajamas. He lets you blow dry and brush his hair and followed you around like a ducking into the kitchen. “Can I help?” He asks on his toes at the counter, watching you pull out food for prep.

“Of course, pull up a chair.” You respond pointing at the kitchen table and he does just that. He pulls up a chair and you have him washing vegetables while you prepare a pan to cook in and start the rice cooker. “How does Oyakodon sound?” You ask looking through your fridge.

“I don’t mind as long as you make it.” His tone was soft, he didn’t dare to look at you in his own embarrassment. I didn’t mean to say that, he thinks.

You smile widely and pat his head gently, “You are too sweet, ya’ know that?” You giggle softly. “I’ll get you to decide on what you want tomorrow.”

He smiles lightly as you take the vegetables from him. He pushes the chair closer to the stove to watch you cook and watches how delicately but precise each movement you make is. He knows a little about cooking but he can’t understand how you quickly made a dish that seems so complicated.

He drags the chair back to the table when you start serving the dinner, he sits down excitedly as you bring out his plate. A happy noise escapes him as he starts to eat. You smile softly at his childish behaviors, “You’ll be a good mom.” He says with after chewing.

You chuckle and pull rice off his cheek, eating it yourself. “Maybe, I’ll need to find a husband first, and I’m pretty sure boys are terrified of me.” You recall interactions with other students after the sports festival, the girls were all excited but the boys seemed to shy away.

“You’re not scary!” He says almost dropping his spoon, you laugh and roll your eyes. “You’re not! You’re so nice and helpful and smart and-and pretty!” He felt like the room was spinning as he spat out how he felt, why did I say that?! He scolded himself internally, looking down. “If I could eat your food all the time I’d be your husband.” His words were so quiet you almost didn’t hear him, but you did.

You felt like your heart could jump out of your chest, my crush just said he’d be my husband! HOW DO I RESPOND TO THAT?? You tried to keep your face passive, coughing slightly to hide the quandary you’re in. “Maybe when you’re older.” An awkward giggle escapes you, “You’d have to be my boyfriend first though.”

His face was red but he nodded and scooped the last of his food into his mouth. “Okay.” He said with food in his mouth, “I’ll be (Y/N)’s boyfriend.” He continued, more to himself than you, nodding as if he just came to an agreement. You nearly choke on your drink before you both chuckle awkwardly, “Are you gonna play a song on the piano?” He asks as you take the dishes and wash them, letting him help store the left overs.

“I can, what kind of song?” You hum.

Shoto pauses and thinks about it, he doesn’t say anything until you walk up to the standing piano. “Something for me?” His voice was almost a squeak.

You turn and look at him, he’s looking down and fiddling with the hem of his shirt. Maybe a song that reminds me of him? That’s not too tough, you hum and pat the space next to you on the piano bench. “I think I’ve got one.” You scoop him into your lap, giggling as he makes a feeble attempt to escape. “I don’t want to elbow you on accident.” When he stops wiggling around and you start playing the song, singing out the lyrics quietly as he watched your finger fly delicately across the keys. The harsher notes surprise him, but he glances at you with a slack jaw. Your eyes half lidded followed your hands across the keys, a small smile curled at your lips.

“You can do everything.” He gasps, earning himself a bashful blushing smile from you.

“Why don’t we watch a movie?” He nods happily at your suggestion.

He ended up sitting curled into you, under a blanket, you made herbal tea and put on some movie he chose. While finishing his drink it didn’t take long to get tired, he rubbed his eyes incessantly. “I’ll lay down after the movie.” He yawned a soft plea, you can’t imagine how tired his young body must be. Even as an adult, the day you had was a bit much.

He fell asleep not long after, you scooped him up and laid him down in your brothers old room. You left his door open after tucking him in and walked into your own room. You plopped on top of the blankets and dozed off quickly.

You woke up a few hours later to the soft sounds of crying, stifled and buried noises. You quickly got out of bed and walked over to the source, “Shoto? What’s wrong?” You asked softly.

He made an awkward grunt while wiping his face in the pillow, “Nothing, bad dream. I-I’m okay.” He pleas, but his childish form betrays him. “I’m sorry for waking you..”

“Well, you don’t look ‘okay’ to me.” You tease a bit, “Come here.” He instinctually follows you back to your room, you sit him on your much softer bed and wipe his face. “It’s okay to not be okay, Shoto.” You pat his scarred cheek, thumbing at stray tears before crawling into bed behind him. “Come lay down, take advantage of being little.” You say, you’re clearly still half asleep as you lift you arm for him to choose to lay with you or not.

It doesn’t take long for him to crawl into your bed, curling his sleepy small frame into your arms. The smell of you consumes his mind, calming him down. You pet his hair and rub shapes into his back until you both fall asleep.

——

“AH.” You woke to the sound of a surprised little Shoto, I thought that was a dream. He thought when he woke up wrapped in your arms and nuzzles into your chest.

You rubbed and picked at your eyes as he scooted away from you, glancing over at him. Oh yeah, “You sleep okay?” You’re far too tired to be embarrassed.

He watches you stretch out, your hair and clothing are disheveled. You’re glancing at him with half lidded bedroom eyes, your morning voice was softer and raspier than usual. A blush consumes him, I wish I was grown right now. He thinks, Wait…What? “Ah, y-yeah actually.” He rubbed his own eyes, “I slept good.” Better than he had in a long time.

You smile and sit up, quickly getting out of bed. “Good, why don’t you go get dressed and we’ll start breakfast.” You wink and smile at him as you head to the bathroom. He just stares at the door for a moment before rushing to the other room.

Shoto follows you down the stairs after you’re both dressed, noting you’re semi-casual clothing. “I have one thing I have to do today.” You tell him, “After that we’ll be free to do whatever you want.” You start reheating rice and cooking meat for breakfast, along with prepping food for lunch.

“You’re cooking a lot of food.” He comments from over the bar.

A soft smile graces your face, “We’re going to see my family today.” He notes the mild sadness in your face but doesn’t push.

“What are they like?” He asks walking around the counter to enter the kitchen.

“Oh they’re wonderful, my mom is very goofy. She loves music and weird philosophy that I still don’t understand.” You laugh talking about her, “My dad was a loud man, he’s soft and loved when he could take care of me and my brother. My brother on the other hand is a lot like the other boys in our class. A bit of a screw ball but he always means well.” Shoto quietly watches you talk passionate about your family, he smiles softly at the way you smile wide enough for dimples to show.

You set a plate down for him, you eat in the kitchen while you finish packing lunch. “You think they’ll like me?” He asks between bites.

You laugh, “They would have loved you.” Thoughts flash in Shoto’s head, she’s introducing me to her parents? He’s enamored with the idea but his current situation makes it very strange.

He loses himself in thought, not noticing you packing incense into your picnic basket. You feed Cali and start cleaning up, check the weather, and take your time cleaning up. You make a glass of fruit tea for Shoto, who’s watching cartoons. You watch him blow on it and take a careful sip when his face lights up, “This is yummy.” He smiles shyly.

“I’m glad, it was my favorite when I was your age.” You chuckle.

“What’s your favorite now?”

You hum at the question, “I haven’t met a tea I didn’t like. I’m not sure.” You stared blankly at the TV in consideration, it’s been a long time since you’ve been unsure of something so simple.

A couple hours pass before you leave for your picnic. Shoto wishes he could help you carry the basket and blanket, he fails to notice where you’re both headed until you stop. You pull out a key card and open the gate to a cemetery for Heroes, he looks up at you in concern but you smile softly back at him and pat his hair. When you finally stop you set up a blanket in front of a decorated family head stone, he just stares at you in surprise. He goes to say something when someone else calls your name. “Miss (Y/N)!” You look over and see an older man. “Is it the anniversary already?”

You wave as he walks up, “Takahashi! Good to see you old timer. It is, I can’t believe you still work here.”

He laughs loudly, “Your parents saved my life so of course I do! Who’s the tyke?” He asks peering around you.

Shoto bows politely, “I’m Shoto! Who are you?”

You both chuckle, “Polite young thing,” He says to you. “I’m Takahashi Jin, grounds keeper of this ‘er cemetery.” He smiles to Shoto, “You two enjoy your lunch, don’t get into trouble like last time missy!” He teases and turns to leave.

“Me? Trouble? Never. Not even once.” You snort, winking at Shoto who chuckles. You both chuckle further when you hear the old man huff.

Shoto lights the incense and both give your prayers before you open up lunch. Neither of you pay any mind to the strange looks you get as time goes on. Shoto doesn’t understand your happiness as you sit in a cemetery eating lunch with a classmate, you’re alone in this world. His heart aches but he’s glad you seem okay. The old man from earlier stop by again and hands you a few flyers, “You think we should go?” You ask Takahashi with knitted brows. He nods, sending an empathetic smile. You shrug and hand the papers to Shoto.

“A festival?” He looks at you wide eyed, “Can we go?”

“If you want to, then absolutely.”

“I’ve never been to one,” He whispers to himself behind the paper.

——

When you return to the house you drop the basket off on the counter and run upstairs. Shoto follows behind but waits as you head into a room he hasn’t seen yet, “Shoto, come here.” You call, he walks in hesitantly and looks around. “Face the door for a moment.” He does, only glancing over as he realizes your measuring him. “Yeah, this should fit.” Your voice was excited.

He turns to see you have a set of matching yukata’s, a larger white one with red geometric flowers on it, the smaller one was white with fine red and black lines running across it. “We’ll match?” He asks, these types of things were never something his father allowed.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” You poke at him, “Let’s get changed. It’s a bit of a ways away.”

You got him changed first, making sure the Geta sandals fit him. Once he’s sorted you make your way to your room, of course putting on a yukata alone isn’t easy, you groaned internally. It took you longer than you would’ve like to get ready, the outfit then the hair, natural makeup, the whole nine. You grabbed a small shoulder bag and your shoes as you finished.

You stared at the hair stick before grabbing it and walking down the stairs. “Shoto, can you help me with something?” You heard him run over before you saw him, he blushed and gasped at you.

“You look so pretty.” He whispered, cupping his mouth in embarrassment.

You hand him the hair pin and kneel down, “Can you put this in for me?” He looks at the hair stick and then at your hair, his expression softens as you allow him to put it where he likes. “My hero, thank you.” He blushes at the comment but doesn’t say anything. You offer him your hand to hold, he grabs your pinky and ring finger and the two of you set off.

—

“Wow.” He gasps, the streets are lines with lanterns as stalls, you hold his hand and let him pull you to everything that grabs his attention. You buy snacks as you go, you show him and a few other kids your goldfish catching skills and ended up giving all the fish away. You wouldn’t be able to take care of them anyway, the two of you stop by a mask stall. He stares at them in curiosity, the person running the stall explains them and lets him try on a few.

You look at your phone for the time and lift him up, “Look up.” You tell him, as he does fireworks go off. It’s the first time you’ve seen pure childish glee on his face since the incident, if ever. Everyone stares at the fireworks calmly as they go.

When they finish you walk over to a food stand, “Soba!” He cheers, you laugh and order him a bowl. You quickly find a bench to sit at and eat, “Did you know I like soba a lot?” He asked innocently.

“Yes I did, I thought you’d like to have some at your first street festival.”

He watches you eat Takoyaki with a content smile, he didn’t realize you heard that comment. “How long is this going on for?”

You hummed as you finished chewing, “3 more days, I think.” You wipe your mouth, “Did you want to come back?”

He chuckles softly, “Maybe when I’m older.” You smile at him, not quite sure what’s on his mind. “Is this a date?” His question caused you to almost choke on your food.

You looked away as you regained your composure, “I s-suppose i-it is.” You stammer out, your cheeks dust with blush and you’re grateful for the dim lighting. When you glance back at him you see a soft smile on his face, what on earth is going through his mind?

After another hour of playing around you both head back to your home, “Thank you.” He says, squeezing your fingers.

Squeezing his little hand back you hum, “What for?”

“Everything.” His voice was small but content.

You pat his hair with your free hand, “It was my pleasure, Shoto.” You watch the stars as you walk, “Thank you for meeting my family, it’s lonely to go by myself.” You sigh softly.

He glances up at you, “You’re welcome. I don’t want you to be lonely.” You look down at him, a sad smile graces your face. “I’m here for you since you’re gonna be my wife.” His hand quickly covers his mouth at the comment but you can see the smile he’s hiding.

The single comment broke the sadness on your face, causing you to laugh. “That’s a good reason.” You snicker as you make it back to your house.

“We’re home.” You say to the mostly empty house. “Let’s get changed and off to bed.” He nods and follows you up the stairs.

He falls asleep quickly as you tuck him into bed, when you’re sure he’s asleep you press a soft kiss to his forehead and head to bed yourself.

Shoto wasn’t completely asleep when you left a soft kiss on his skin. A smile grew on his face as he got comfortable, you curled into bed quickly dozing off yourself.

You were stirred in the middle of the night by heavy weight of a body curling into your chest and neck. You didn’t bother opening your eyes as you sleepily remembered your guest, you lazily wrapped your arms around him and found his head of hair with you hand to pet as you drifted. “Sleep well, Shoto.” You mumbled as you started to doze back off.

Shoto, now fully grown, had made quick and delicate work of wrapping himself into you. A soft happy noise escaped you as you got comfortable, “I think I love you, (Y/N).” He said softly into your chest, assuming you were asleep.

You hum sleepily and squeeze him a bit, “I think I love you too Sho…” Your voice trailed off indicating your sleep, Shoto squeezes you back as a small happy smile crept up his face.

As much as being turned into a child could have been an absolute nightmare of a situation, he was happy to have had this time with you. He never understood why he was so drawn to you but after all this he seemed to understand more. He never thought being a kid again would have its advantages. He never thought you’d let him so deep into your personal life, between meeting your family, cooking for him and taking him to his first festival. All he wanted to do was stay in your life like this, now he was certain he actually could.

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stellarstarwarsimagines · 3 years

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Surprises

Pairing - Din Djarin x Reader

Summary - After loosing the Razor Crest, Grogu, and the Dark Saber coming into Din’s possession, you’re not sure either of you can handle another surprise being thrown your way.

Word Count - 1.7k

Warnings - Pregnancy

The first time it had happened, you thought something had made you ill. After all, it wasn’t as if you and Din had the best sources of food at your disposal. There had been a couple of times when something had upset your stomach.

The second time, you had assumed it was leftover from the first.

When you continued to be sick the next day, a sneaking suspicion had entered your mind.

The two of you were stationed at Nevarro until you figured out what to do. You no longer had Grogu to watch out for, or a ship to fly in, and you had the dark saber to contend with now. The truth was though, you both needed a break. Too much had happened too quickly, and you both needed time to sort through it all, and the safest place to do that was Nevarro. After all, you had friends there.

One in particular whose help you were going to need now.

“Karga. I need you to take me to the best medical droid you have around here.” You told him, barging into his little office like you were on a mission.

It was clear that he was surprised, but intrigued by your outburst. “Why? What’s going on?” He asked, filing the papers he was looking at away to focus on you.

You bit your lip. You didn’t want to say it. You didn’t want to jinx it and end up looking stupid in the end, but you also knew Karga wasn’t going to help you out unless he had the story. Letting out a sigh, you crossed your arms over your chest, glancing around the room to make sure you couldn’t be overheard before answering him. “This doesn’t leave this room.” You demanded.

Karga nodded, looking even more intrigued.

“ . . . I think I might be pregnant.”

To your surprise, Greef didn’t look the least bit shocked. In fact, he almost looked . . . smug, leaning back against his chair with a little smirk. “I knew you two were together.” He said.

“Karga!”

____________________

You hated being probed by droids. Them taking your blood was one of your least favorite things in the galaxy. There was something about seeing your blood that made you feel dizzy, anyone else’s was fine, but your own? You closed your eyes, biting your lip and waving the droid off as it asked you if you were okay.

The test didn’t take long. The droid put your blood under a microscope and within moments, it had confirmed your suspicions.

Pregnant. Eight weeks.

You slumped against the back of the chair, a dozen different emotions all washing through you at the same time. It was like you two couldn’t catch a break. You were exhausted trying to keep up with all the new things that life was throwing at you, and this was another one to add to the list. You were angry at yourself for not being more careful, anxious because you weren’t sure how Din was going to react to this news. You were sure that Din was going to be a great father, how could you not be after seeing all that he had done with Grogu? But a little voice in the back of your mind wondered if this would be the breaking point. Would he be able to handle another life changing thing on top of everything else? Would he push you aside knowing that it was too much to take on?

On the other side of your mind though, another little voice spoke up, reminding you that you were now carrying the love of your life’s child, and if everything went okay, you would now always have a piece of him, no matter what happened in the future.

You couldn’t help but be a little happy about that.

____________________

Still in a daze, you walked back to the little inn where you and Din had been staying, opening the door to find him sitting there with two bowls of food, waiting on you.

The sight of him without his helmet was jarring even now. After seeing only the briefest flashes of chin for so long, it always startled you for a moment to see all of that handsome, gorgeous face whenever you did. So you always liked to take a minute to observe it, committing it to memory with a soft sigh.

As soon as he heard you, he stood up, and you were once again struck with how awkward he seemed to move without all the beskar weighing him down. “I - uh - I got us lunch.”

You smiled at the gesture, but it seemed to be a weak one, because Din’s expression turned to concern almost at once. It was funny, how before you had never been able to tell what he was thinking or feeling, but now it was so easy. You weren’t even sure he knew how expressive those dark brown eyes were.

He stepped towards you, his warm hand cupping your cheek. You leaned into the touch at once, enjoying the comfort it brought. “Are you all right cyar’ika?”

His voice was so soft. Softer than it could ever sound coming through his helmet, and you melted at the sound of it. “I think that’s going to depend on you my kar’ta.” You replied, turning your head and closing your eyes to press a kiss against his calloused palm.

His brow raised in confusion, but at that moment, you caught a whiff of the lunch that Din had brought the two of you. Your eyes widened, and you covered your mouth as a wave of nausea hit you like a blaster shot. You ran into the bathroom, hoping he wouldn’t follow you, but of course he did, holding your hair back as you vomited up the contents of your breakfast.

“Here, just keep breathing.” He murmured, transferring your hair to one hand so he could stroke your back with the other. “It’ll be okay. Better out than in.”

Would it be okay?

Once you were done, you sat down, leaning your back against the wall and watching as he got you a cup of water and a towel. You took them from him gratefully, sipping slowly as to not upset your stomach once more. “Do you think it’s something you ate?” Din asked after a few moments.

You shook your head, closing your eyes and taking a couple of deep breaths, the nerves of what you knew you were about to have to tell him making it worse. “No, I know it’s not that.”

“You know?” He repeated, taking the glass from your hands and setting it aside.

“It’s morning sickness.” You admitted with a little sigh.

“But it’s the afternoon -”

“Din,” You opened your eyes, finding his confused ones staring back at you. “I’m pregnant.”

You waited for him to say something, anything at all. You wouldn’t be sure how to feel about this until he did. Instead he fell backwards onto his ass, as if your words had knocked him over. The silence was deafening, and you could feel your heartbeat picking up at the implication of it.

Would he leave you because of this? “I - I know the timing’s terrible, if you don’t want any part of it, I - I could go.” You suggested. It would break your heart into a thousand pieces, but you could do it for this baby, because the longer you sat there, the more you realized how much you wanted it. No matter how bad the timing was.

Din kept his gaze on the floor, running a hand through his hair. Your fingers were twitching against your legs, and you . . . you wished he would look at you. If he would look at you, you would have a better sense of what he was feeling and then maybe . . .

Maybe you could decide if this was a good thing or not.

Finally, when it felt like years since you had taken a breath, he spoke. “I don’t want you to go.” He said, his voice filled with emotion even as he stared at your feet. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did though. It’s not like this is the best place for a child. We’ve learned that.” He reached out for your hand, stilling your fingers. “If you go, I would make sure you and the child were taken care of. I could send credits -”

“Woah, wait -” You interrupted, shocked at the turn the conversation had taken. “I don’t want to go anywhere. Not without you. I just knew you had so much on your plate already. A baby on top of that . . .” You broke off, glancing down at your own stomach.

“It’s a lot.” He admitted, and this time when you looked at him, he was looking at you too. Those captivating dark brown eyes were watching you so carefully, and you were sure he was looking for your response, the same way you had been looking for his.

So you let a little smile settle on your lips, getting on your knees to scoot closer to him, “but we’ve already been doing the parenting thing . . . not with a human, but same concept, right?” You asked.

A small twinkle appeared in Din’s eyes that made your smile widen. “Might even be easier, since he won’t be able to move things with his mind.”

“He, huh?” You said as Din pulled you into his lap. “How do you know that?” You asked, slipping your arms around his neck to keep him close.

“Intuition.” He replied, and you closed your eyes as he pressed a delicate kiss to your chin, lingering there for a moment before speaking again. “I want this if you do, cyar’ika.” Din whispered against your skin.

“Even with everything else going on?” You whispered, opening your eyes again when you felt his nose brush against yours. You wanted to believe that he wanted this baby with you, and the hint of excitement you spotted in his eyes made you think he did, but you needed to be sure.

Din’s hand rubbed across your back as he nodded. “Despite everything going on.” His tone turned more serious as he put some distance between the two of you so he could stare into your eyes, removing your arms from his neck so he could take them in his own. “I swear, no matter what else comes our way, I vow to protect you and our child until my last breath.”

His words, spoken with such conviction and assurance made tears sting behind your eyes. Warmth filled your whole body as you squeezed his hands tight, hoping your eyes were showing how much his vow meant to you. “Then let’s have a baby Din Djarin.”

#din djarin x reader #mandalorian x reader #din djarin x you #mandalorian x you #star wars imagine

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13uswntimagines · 3 years

Text

Loser Buys Dinner (Lindsey x Reader)

Request: team goes to an ice rink and the reader is really good at ice skating and the team didn't know. you can add a pairing if you want

Author’s Note: Special Thanks to @literaryhedgehog!!! Also this one has a slightly awkward ending, but we thought it fit.

You stared at the sign as Kelley brought the car to a park. Ice Town skating rink blazed in neon letters as the outline of a skate seemed to circle around them. Around you, you heard the chattering of your teammates as they registered where you had come for today’s team bonding activity. They at least were excited. You unbuckled your seatbelt and followed Rose out of the car, still not taking your eyes off the neon image circling around your vision. It was fine. Today would be fun.

“Hey fun size, you excited?” Lindsey bounced up to walk at your side. You flicked your head slightly to clear your thoughts and turned to smile quickly at her.

“I guess. It’s definitely been a while since I’ve ice skated.”

“Don’t worry,” Lindsey said grinning, “I’ll stay with you the whole time if you’re worried about falling.”

“I won’t fall,” you said matter of factly. Lindsey raised an eyebrow. Before she could challenge you to a competition that she would lose, you said “if anything I’m worried about you. If you fall you’ll get frostbite.”

If Lindsey was concerned about the cold, she didn’t show it. She was from Colorado and was quite used to the terrible temperature. While Kelley had instructed everyone to wear layers, Lindsey was only wearing a jacket and flannel over a pair of skinny jeans. She grinned at your comment and shrugged. “I’ll be fine. What’s it going to be, like 30 degrees?”

“Yes. That is literally the temperature ice freezes at.”

“It’s just your California blood that makes you chill faster,” she smirked, elbowing your side.

You rolled your eyes at her and entered the building. As the smell of the ice rink washed over you you inhaled deeply through your nose and exhaled through your mouth, intentionally relaxing the muscles that had tensed up at the memories the smell elicited. You still felt your spine straighten from habit, but chose to ignore it.

“Are we sure this is a good team bonding activity. Like what if we break our legs before the game?” Rose asked, strapping a skate on her foot. She had always been the clumsier of the team.

“We ran it by the coaches and they signed off on it so long as we’re all willing to be serious. Looking at you Sonnett. No fooling around on the ice. There are walls to hold onto if you feel unbalanced Rosie, but it’s a good chance to practice our flops if you feel like you’re going to fall. Remember- fall back and protect your head.” Carlie said with a grin.

“And then you want us to roll on the ice for the pretend ref?” Lindsey asked, quirking her eyebrow up at the ludicrous implication. There weren’t going to be any hands going near any skate paths.

“The pretend ref would assume you were throwing a temper tantrum if you did since NO ONE will be skating at each other,” Beckey said, looking up from tightening her skate to catch the eye of each troublemaker on the team.

Emily frowned, there went her idea of trying to joust with their umbrellas.

“You alright?” Lindsey asked, sliding her hand along your lower back.

“Yeah,” you said, looking at the rink logo imprinted in the center of the ice.

“Well you’re kinda blocking the entrance to the rink,” Lindsey said very close to your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. When did she get so close to you?

You blinked away the feeling of a spotlight and thousands of eyes in your back to look back at her. Then you grinned slowly, “Just… creating some anticipation.”

“I know you Californians probably don’t know much about moving on the ice, but you’re not supposed to just stand and stare at it,” she said, kissing your cheek. “just remember that I won’t let you fall,”

You raised your eyebrows at her, then turned around fully to face her, still blocking the entrance intentionally. “Wanna make a bet Linessie? Because I think you’ll fall more than I do today.”

“In your dreams short stuff,” she snorted, refraining from saying that she had fallen for you already.

“You taking the bet or not?” You said, a little louder this time so that you caught the attention of Emily and the rest of the youngins.

Linsey’s grin grew to match your own, “I’m always game, you know that,”

“Loser has to eat like Carlie for a week?” You proposed, sticking out your hand for her to shake.

“Hm, those stakes aren’t high enough. Loser has to eat Alex’s weird vegan shit for a week,” Lindsey said, her lips ticking up at your scrunched nose.

“That would be cruel. I’m not doing that to you. Loser pays for winner’s Costco run?”

“I think you’re just scared you won’t be able to eat ice cream for a week,” Lindsey scoffed, crossing her arms.

“Okay, I tried to go easy on you,” you said, shaking your head dramatically. “If you’re willing to eat like Alex for a week, I’ll take that bet.”

“You’re on pipsqueak,” Lindsey shook your outstretched hand, squeezing it a little too tightly.

You grinned at her and holding her gaze stepped backward onto the ice, crossing one foot over the other to gain speed as you glided to the center of the floor.

It felt natural, as though the last 12 years had only been 2. You did a quick counter turn, letting the muscle memory carry you over the ice. You did a twizzle and grinned. Not too shabby.

“Holy fuck,” Lindsey said, her jaw dropped as you glided effortlessly across the ice. So much for her plan to be your hero on the ice. Your protector from the cold.

“Shoulda pretended you were the terrified one,” Emily snickered, bumping her lightly as she passed her. You may be oblivious to Lindsey’s feelings, but the rest of the team was not.

Lindsey shook her head and skated off after you, not as smooth on the ice as you were, but pretty damn close. She had always preferred hockey over figure anyway. She easily caught up with you, skating relatively close behind you.

You saw her and turned, arabesqueing a leg into the air behind you. Then you leaned into a tight camel spin so you looped around Lindsey as she moved.

“You forwards are always such show-offs,” Lindsey rolled her eyes, catching your outstretched hand once both feet were back on the ice and pulling you close to her.

“Cause diving headers and Bicycle Kicks are totally not showing off either,” you said, scrunching your nose at her.

“How did a Cali girl like you learn to skate?” She asked, moving so she was behind you again, holding your waist as you skated.

“Some way most girls who don’t live in a frozen wasteland do,” you said, shrugging. “I took lessons.”

“Wasn’t action-packed enough for our little firecracker?” Lindsey questioned and you could practically hear her eyebrow ticking up.

You fought to keep your smile normal. “Believe it or not, there was a time when I wasn’t a firecracker and didn’t like being the center of attention.”

“Not a firecracker, impossible. I’m pretty sure most defenses are terrified of you, especially after you made that English defender pee her pants when she went after Mal,” Lindsey carefully pulled you into her chest resting her head on your shoulder, mindful that you two were still hurtling along the ice.

You grinned. “Well, she deserved it.” You leaned out to the side then in again, pulling you both into a gentle spin. “But yeah, around middle school I dropped out of skating. My partner for pairs skating broke his ankle skateboarding and,” you paused, trying to find the words to explain, “I just really didn’t like singles.”

“Is it bad that I’m glad he got hurt? Cause now I get to be your pairs partner and you never have to be single again if you don’t want…” Lindsey mumbled, glad that you weren’t facing each other. She wasn’t sure she could have looked you in the eye and finally shot her shot.

“Well, I am known for being a damn good team player, even if I am a showoff,” you nudged Lindsey playfully. “But I refuse to eat vegan for a week. I need my chocolate icecream.”

“Well,” said Lindsey with a dramatic sigh, “how about we amend the bet. Loser pays for dinner on the first date?”

Lindsey waited just a second for your agreement, enjoying the feeling of you in her arms, and then she gently pushed you away. You slid easily across the ice, turning just in time to see Lindsey “trip” and fall to her knees.

“Guess I’m buying,” she said smirking up at you, her blond hair framing her face.

“It’s a date loser,” You smiled so wide, your pink cheeks started to hurt.

“You’re supposed to flop backward, Linds,” Carlie called across the ice.

#uswnt imagine #uswnt x reader #uswnt imagines #literalhedgehog #lindsey horan imagine #lindsey horan x reader

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regali-s · 3 years

Text

BETWEEN THE WAVES ➽ WAKATOSHI USHIJIMA x READER

genre: soft smut, black! female reader

wc: 5.3k

warnings: just my self indulgence and uhh reader has a coochie

a/n: hi! so originally this was gonna be longer and i was gonna write about them actually doing stuff in miyakojima but, due to my last two braincell misfiring, it ended up as just one smut oneshot instead. therefore! i have several smaller stories with toshi’s and reader’s two children, their dates on miyakojima during valentine’s weekend, a small little scene of them being cute and wholesome after this sex scene, and one more smut scene that’s more hard sex with some dom toshi. really, it’s just an excuse to let me write about him some more, but we don’t talk about that 😝

sunlight peers through the white windows of your bedroom, the sounds of waves crashing against the shoreline rousing you from your sleep. a gentle breeze filters through beige curtains and hits your naked figure, causing you to curl further into your husband’s warm body. you smile when you feel his arms wrapping around you, squeezing once as he encases you tighter, and when your eyes flutter open, they immediately search for his of olive, admiring the way that the golden flecks in them glisten under soft yellow lights.

serenity fills your morning together as you bask in the smell of the sea drifting across your bedroom. you feel relaxed in a way you hadn’t in a long time, thinking to yourself that it was a good idea for you and wakatoshi to take the weekend off to yourselves while your two children, hideyoshi and shiori, stayed with tendou who promised to look after them well.

your husband had planned a luxurious trip for the both of you to miyakojima, boarded your flight on friday afternoon and arrived at the villa by early evening. you had a gorgeous view of the coastline from your bedroom, and standing outside lets you see blue waters stretching across the horizon with the silver glow of the night sky. your suite came accompanied with a long outdoor pool and a hot tub where you could relax under millions of stars with a glass of wine, wrapped in your husband’s embrace and sharing slow kisses while you straddled his lap.

and that’s exactly how the both of you had spent your first evening. once the wine had fully settled into your bloodstream, you let yourself fall into a drunken haze as you sunk yourself down on wakatoshi’s cock, moaning into his neck and leaving trails of wet kisses that you know would make his head spin and for him to pull you flush against his hips, until his fingers bruised your sides and until you could feel his head hitting deep inside you while your walls massaged his shaft. that night, he’d been loud for you as you rode him, sweet moans that poured into your skin and set your body ablaze, praises of your name spilled out of his lips on breathy moans against your temple as he pumped you full of his cum.

“good morning, my love,” wakatoshi’s voice quietly rumbles inside his chest, sending vibrations throughout your body as he presses a lingering kiss to your forehead. you hum contentedly as you blissfully close your eyes, sighing as you bask in the feeling of his lips against your skin before seeking him out with your own.

“morning, toshi,” you murmur against him between your kisses, each one of them slow and passionate, thrumming beneath your skin and causing your heart to flutter inside your chest as you melt into him. it leaves you with a breathless giggle when your noses bump together, your smile hazy and dazed as you brush strands of brown hair from his forehead. beneath the sheets, he rubs soothing circles into your naked hips, pulls you closer to him until your legs are tangled together, your chest pressed up against his while his fingers dig comfortingly into your flesh. his touch is soothing as he caresses each curve of your body, over the stretch marks that web across your brown skin, brushing over your stomach and thighs until gradually they gently massage your ass. the tingling sensation left in the wake of his hands causes you to shiver against him, legs rubbing together when you feel his hardened member pressing up against your stomach. each twitch of him against you alerts you of his desires as does the heavy mist that masks his eyes. the weight and implications of the look he gives you paired with the way he begins to slowly rock his hips into you, grinding against your stomach all while he holds your gaze, it swirls between your legs and causes your lust to drip out of you in pools. there’s a question in his eyes, an invitation that blurs your surroundings until you can only focus on the warmth and heat of him against you.

“nngh— toshi...” you sigh when he hides his face in the crook of your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your skin and grazing you just barely with his teeth. a whimper escapes you when he finds the shell of your ear, biting gently before lapping over the area with his tongue as he continues to slowly rut against you. one of your hands rests against his stomach, fingers twitching with the urge to wrap themselves around him, to feel the weight and heat of his shaft in your palm as desire clouds your mind and urges you to pull him closer.

“w-wait... shouldn’t we check up on tendou?? see... ah!” he cuts off your words when his hands dip below your waist, fingers sliding between your slick folds to press against your clit. the moan that slips out of you is filthy, your hand leaves his hair to grasp his forearm; the firmness of his muscles serves to ground yourself against the desire clouding your mind, all while it pushes you further and further toward the brink of giving in entirely. “see how he’s doing with hide and shiori...”

this would be the first time that either you or wakatoshi would spend so much time away from your children, and, understandably, you were nervous to do so. it wasn’t that you don’t trust tendou — rather, you’d trust him with your life if it came down to it. he loved and cared for you and toshi’s children as if they were his own blood. but they’re your babies, so of course you’d worry. your four year old hide, especially tended to get anxious whenever he was away from either of you and—

“f-fuck— toshi...”

and just like that, your thoughts come to a complete standstill once you feel two of your husband’s finger sink into you, curling and caressing your slick walls.

“i’m sure they’ll be fine,” his whisper becomes the only thing you can hear, it ghosts along your skin as he curls his fingers in a ‘come hither’ motion. you can’t help the way your hips buck into him, a drawn out whine of his name fluttering from your lips when he begins to slowly pump in and out of you, squelching noises drowning the sound of the waves outside. his familiar smell of brown sugar and vanilla washes away the salty ocean breeze, it overpowers your senses, forces you to focus on the way his voice hums approval against your skin and the way his fingers coaxingly massage your aching walls, his knuckles brushing against your pussy lips as he sinks them deeper. his fingers are tall enough that they reach inside you so much further than you could ever hope to with your hands alone, the thickness of them makes you feel a stretch that burns just slightly and leaves you feeling full.

and yet, it doesn’t satisfy you completely.

it doesn’t stop you from seeking out the sensation only he’s ever been able to provide you with; for the familiar tightening of your stomach that makes you grind against his hand as if you wanted more, needed something else that would stretch you almost impossibly wide and fill you to the brim. it isn’t hard for wakatoshi to make you need him, to make you the desperate little thing who’d turn so pliant and obedient for him, and he knows it — you know he does when you feel him smile into your neck, when a deep chuckle sends vibrations rippling down your spine, your arousal spilling out of you in pools, all over his palm and down your thighs.

“it’s just us right now. i want you to focus on me and forget everything else.”

there’s a shift in his tone that has your breath hitching inside your throat. you recognize the slow and silent authority that he always carries when he’s with you like this, the glint in golden eyes that has you immediately submitting to him, that causes your pulse to beat only on his will. the effect is immediate and has you nodding obediently, your eyes unable to leave his intense stare as if he’d managed to pin you in place. you watch his lips move, but the picture is blurry, as if you watched him through a thick fog, and it takes the absence of his fingers to return your focus to him. you nearly whine at the loss of them stuffing you full, and there’s a complain bubbling up on the back of your throat until he uses them, slick with your arousal and all, to grip your chin tightly, and the words immediately die down in favour of letting his voice wash over you like the tide.

“you hear me?”

you try and nod as best as you can within his firm grasp. wakatoshi studies your expression — takes in the way your mouth opens up under the prying of his thumb, how you obediently suck on it when he pushes it between your plush lips. a low groan of approval makes you grind against his cock, desperately rubbing your cunt along him in search for some form of stimulation while he runs his thumb along your tongue.

“mmph...” your eyes flutter closed, a pop noise sounds inside the room as he pulls his thumb from your lips and instead presses the two fingers he had previously stuffing your cunt to fill your mouth. the taste of your arousal instantly fills your senses while he slowly thrusts them against your tongue as he presses down, you making sure to clean yourself off of him and coating his fingers with your saliva. drool slips from the corners of your lips, and as your smaller fingers struggle to barely wrap around his wrist, you cough slightly when he pushes them a bit further to the back, causing your eyes to water when you look up at him.

“sorry,” his hand returns to your hip, comfortingly rubbing circles over it while you clear your throat. “did i go too far back?”

the concern he shows for something so minor makes your chest swell with affection as you shake your head, cupping his cheek with your hand. you mimic his actions of rubbing circles into his skin and press a kiss to his lips. “it’s alright,” you reassure him, smiling when he greedily chases after you before you can pull away, your lips molding together as he tastes the addicting, almost maddening of your arousal on your tongue. wakatoshi’s always been one to worry about your comfort — it’s never once changed over the years you’ve spent together. each time he shows concern over you as he does now, fearing that he’d maybe scratched the back of your throat with his sudden movements, it kindles your love for him and turns the moments between you into something pure and intimate, filled with the love you two share for one another, and it makes you yearn all the more to feel his skin pressed up close to yours, until all your senses should be consumed by the thought and feel of him and the world around you fades away in the glory of hazel eyes.

you let your hands roam across his body, trailing your fingers along his jaw before they ghost along his neck, resulting in him firmly gripping on to your hip as a muffled grunt escapes him. the kiss you both share deepens as he presses closer to you, your tongue slipping past his lips to fully taste him against you, yourself on him. where your last kisses were tender and loving, this one is searing and causes your head to spin and steals your breath from you in small, subdued moans, each of which wakatoshi eagerly swallows up. tauntingly, well aware of how it only fuels your hunger for him, he pulls your lower lip between his teeth and gazes at you with half-lidded eyes, the intensity with which he pins you with never once allows you to look away as he pulls your leg over his hip, his other hand encasing your form from beneath you to wrap around your shoulders and pull your chest flushed against his.

the tip of his cock leaks against your lower lips, pushing against your clit before he slides himself between your wet folds and coats himself with your arousal. you whimper, longingly, trying to meet his movements by pressing yourself down on him, and wakatoshi watches with great fascination the way your face bends and contorts, mouth hanging open as you grip onto his shoulders. his hand leaves a trail of fire in its wake as his hand caresses your thigh, slowly climbing higher up until he cups your ass with his palm. the flesh of it spills between his fingers when he squeezes before his fingers sink inside your cunt once again, filling you up with their thickness as he begins pumping them quickly.

“nngh— haah!”

the suddenness of his pace has your hand flying up to his hair, pulling just barely on brown strands as your head flies back. you sigh when his lips latch on to your exposed neck, teeth sinking down into your skin and leaving pretty bruises to blossom all while he continues to drill you with his fingers. the room quickly fills up with the sounds of your slick, your hips buck to meet each thrust of wakatoshi’s fingers as he twists them inside of you, oh so desperate for the high of your orgasm that draws closer with each brush he makes against your gushing walls, against that spot deep inside you that has your vision flashing white.

“you gonna cum from just my fingers, sweetheart?” wakatoshi’s lips brush against your neck, the baritone of his voice rumbling against your skin as he presses deeper inside you, drawing a sharp cry of his name from your gaping lips. your head bobs in response to his question, a whiny “mhm,” is all that you’re able to give him as you press your palm flat against his chest, the feeling of his skin against yours just barely keeps you tethered to reality, all while it fuels your desire to feel his skin. your other hand finds itself cupping the back of his head, where the short hairs of his undercut tickle your skin as you pull him closer to you, the leg that’s wrapped around his back hugging tighter.

“fuck, toshi... i’m so close, please.”

your lover pulls away from your neck to look at your face, takes in the lewdness of your parted lips and furrowed brows, your eyes that beg him to ruin you with the way you look at him so desperately. olive hues glint with hunger as his fingers hit that spot inside of you, causing you to release a loud cry as your body trembles. your cunt squeezes around him as the chord in your gut pulls tight, and wakatoshi marvels at the way you grip down on him so greedily, making it hard to move inside of you. his cock twitches against your thigh with a burning need to bury himself inside of you, to feel your walls hugging him just as you do his fingers. the thought urges him to finish you off faster. he wants to see you fall apart, he wants to erase the sky and the sea and replace it all with this moment, with himself, till your voice is all he can think of as he finger fucks you through your pleasure.

“that’s it, darling,” he praises, coaxes a chorus of breathless cries from you while your hips buck into his palm, the heel of it pressed against your sensitive clit. your nails dig into his shoulder, sinking into the skin while your orgasm rushes over you. your cum spills out into wakatoshi’s hands, leaves them drenched as he continues to work your pulsing walls as he watches you come undone, the squelching sounds increasing as your juices squirt out of you in little drops. he’s entirely rapped up in the way you tremble against him, in the way your eyes never once look away from him as your pussy suckles on his fingers, tears lining your lashes and your eyes dazed on pleasure. his fingers gradually slow down, not yet pulling out when you pull him into a deep kiss that fills his mouth with your love and desire, your leg wrapping around his back and locking him into you. without pulling back, your hand travels south, draws faint lines across his chest, down his abs until it wraps around his hardened cock.

precum oozes from his tip, slicks between your fingers as you gently massage his tip, and wakatoshi rewards you with a slow, deep groan that pours out into your mouth and fills you with the sound of it. you want to pleasure him just as he’d done for you, and so you pull away from him, wanting to let your spit dribble over his pretty pink tip, all glazed and slick with precum as it twitches against your lips before taking him into your mouth, but — as if he can read minds — your husband pulls away and grips your thigh before you can move.

“not now,” he shakes his head, the words whispered against your lips and in between the fleeting kisses that litter around your mouth, against the corners and on your jaw before he finally kisses your lips fully. his hand leaves your thigh to cover yours wrapped around his throbbing length, squeezing your fingers around it, and as he guides the head to just barely press past the opening of your cunt, grazing your clit with little brushes that has your hips chasing more, he makes sure that your eyes are focused on him . “i need you, (y/n). as much as i want your pretty lips wrapped around my cock, i need to be inside of you”

his words spikes your own craving for him, teaches you an impatience that hadn’t taken to your slow fucking the night before as you sigh longingly. and yet, despite that yearning between you two, you still manage to pull away from him and give a cheeky smile. “you sure you don’t want to see me wearing your cum like my favourite lip gloss?”

your husband chuckles at your words, his head dips against your shoulder where his baritone voice ripples across your skin and draws from you a laugh of your own. “darling, you already know how much i love seeing your mouth filled with my cum... but—”

a sharp, startled gasp rips out from your lips, it trails off into a dirty cry of “toshiii...!!” when he pushes himself inside your tight little cunt, not without resistance but almost seamlessly due to the remnants of your first orgasm. he groans as he feels you immediately clamp down on him while your vision blurs with stars at the addictive sensation of your husband’s cock filling you up with every single inch that sinks between your folds. he captures your moan with a passionate kiss when he buries himself to the hilt, basking in the way your walls flutter around him and suck him in, embracing these few moments of stillness while you’re whimpering into his mouth. no matter how many times he’d fucked you, you still feel every bit as amazing, just as divine as if heaven had granted to him an angel of his own. he groans as he presses his hips into yours, seeking out your body with the hand that grips your back.

“i’d prefer to fill this pretty pussy of yours up instead. wouldn’t you want that, my love?”

his words register inside your mind and wash over your skin like a searing flame, yet all that you can focus on is the stretch that his cock provides you with. wakatoshi’s much bigger than average — almost impossibly so. no matter how much prep the both of you do beforehand, there would always be some mild discomfort whenever he slides into you for the first time. you’d never be able to get enough of the way he stuffed your pussy full of his cock, filling you up in a way you’d never felt prior to meeting him. it’s like a drug, really, the way you crave for it whenever his fingers skim tantalizingly over your curves, or when his eyes pin you down with all the power and lust that only you would ever witness. that desire and yearning from him is because of you, belongs to you and you alone, and the thought of it fills you up with pride as you feel his cock twitch inside of you.

your hips rock into him without your conscious decision, silently urging for your husband to move. it’s his cue to start with slow, deep thrusts that drag against your squelching walls, each time he pulls out he’s met with a resistance that fights to keep him inside of you as your hands dance along his muscles, as if you sought to paint him with your touch and leave your marks to shine on his skin like golden paint.

there’s no rush in the way he fucks you. there’s no harsh pounding or slurred words that burn into your skin. instead, wakatoshi fucks you slowly, making sure that you feel each and every drag of his cock inside of you while he basks in your warmth, in the way that you pant against him and the way your hands can’t seem to keep themselves off his body. every drag of your palm against his skin sends shivers down his spine as he bites your shoulder, and he returns your affection in kind by running his finger down your spine, drawing circles into your lower back that pull little whimpers from you.

wakatoshi knows your body like he knows himself, remembers every one of your sensitive places just as you do his. he could trace a map of your skin with his eyes closed, and yet he’d never once get tired of exploring you and everything you have to offer to him.

he finds your sweet spot easily, thrusting against it with every snap of his hips against you. “haah— haaah, fuck, toshiiii!” you keen. your body jolts in reaction to his actions and your hands immediately wrap around his back, locking him into a vice grip while you press your forehead into his shoulder. “right there, ohh fuck— please, don’t stop, nngh! don’t stop, it feels so fucking good...!!”

“yeah? right here feel good, hm? fuck, darling—!” the curse rumbles deep inside his throat, groaning as his lips dance along your temple; he basks in your aroma of sweet apples and mandarins, sighing against your skin as one hand comes up to cup your tits, the soft flesh spilling between his fingers as he massages it gently. your chest wasn’t the most sensitive part of your body and he knows, but he enjoys the way the pliant flesh dances between his fingers, loves when he has his mouth full with it as he sucks on your nipples while his fingers spread you apart. “you feel so good around me — shit, you’re squeezing me so tight... want me to pump you full with my cum? hm? that what my sweet little baby wants?”

“yes—!” you gasp, “fuck, yes, toshi, i want all of your cum, pleasepleaseplease...!!”

a groan escapes him at your words that reverberates across your skin like. “fuck, (y/n)...” his strokes hit you deep each time he pushes into you, till his body nearly comes to fully cage you against the mattress while his hands grip your hip in place for him to fuck into you. “‘m gonna fill you up so well, you hear me? nngh— gimme another baby, hm? do that for me, will you? shit—” his lips leave your temple to bite your ear, hands squeezing your hips hard enough to bruise as his body weight presses against you. you lay beneath him on your back, both your legs hugging his waist as he pistons in and out of you, your chests and stomachs pressed so closely together that you can’t think about where he ends and where you begin. you’re entirely lost in wakatoshi and everything that he is, in the way his arms wrap around your smaller frame, in the way he pins you down beneath his weight, in his lips that scatter fleeting kisses at the corner of your eye, the praises that he showers you with while he drills his cock inside of you, and—

“fuck, toshi— toshiiii, ah! toshi ‘m gonna cum— fuuuck i wanna cum, please!”

your thighs squeeze around his frame as you push your hips up to meet each thrust, grinding against him sensually as he bites his lip. one of his large hands cup the side of your face as he groans in your ear, letting every harsh breath travel straight through your body and down to your gushing pussy, setting every part of you on fire as the coil in your gut tightens once more.

“go ahead, darling,” he moans, pressing open mouthed kisses against your jaw. your eyes flutter open to the ceiling above you, where you could clearly see the image of your bodies tangled together in the overhead mirror. every ripple of his back muscles, the sight of his eyes closed while he kisses the side of your face; your arms and legs caging in his body as your palms dance along his back, your mouth hanging open on cries of his name and the feeling of ecstasy that erases the world around you until there’s left nothing but the two of you. every smack of your hips together is given a visual as wakatoshi’s grunts fill your ear, everything turns just a bit more intimate, becomes the picture of the passionate, love-making sex that you two have in this moment, and the very notion of it sends your heart leaping inside your chest and your cunt squeezing on to your husband even more.

and then his eyes are meeting yours in the mirror with a fire that burns your skin and sets the world ablaze beneath deep ocean waters. his gaze locks with yours as he utters the single command against your ear, just as you both watch and feel his muscles dancing beneath your hands as he slowly — almost torturously so — slides himself back into you, hits that spongy spot inside your walls with an accuracy that only he could have. you can’t help the tears that brim in your eyes as a curse of “fuck!” escapes you, quivering and oh so melodious like the chiming of bells. had you ever needed to say it out loud, you’d confess that you never wanted this moment between you two to end. that you’d never want to be apart from him lest you allow space between your bodies... you only want to remain close to him, for his skin to warm yours, for his cock to stay buried inside of you, and—

“cum for me.”

your cunt immediately gushes around his cock, your juices pouring out of you and soaking your thighs and his stomach, hot and slick against your skin and sloshing obscenely with every stroke your husband makes. he moans loudly at the feeling of your walls squeezing him, breath trembling against your skin at the feeling of your heartbeat pulsating around his shaft as he continues to fuck you slowly.

“that’s it, baby” he sighs, “thaaaaat’s it, fuck. so fucking good for me.”

“toshii...” you whimper. overstimulation numbs your mind and washes away everything around you that isn’t him, till it feels like the world spins and holds you upside down and your breath stutters on the clouds; it brings your tears pouring over your lashes, and yet your hips still rut up against his, seeking out that addictive feeling of him filling you up, urging him to finish so that he’d pour out into you too. you bring your hand up to cup his jaw, thumbs brushing his cheek as you seek his lips against yours. “fuck— nngh, toshi kiss me, pleasepleaseplease kiss me...”

you didn’t need to ask him twice; his lips were on yours before the words are fully out of your mouth, locked together as you cried into him. his own hands slide up your sides, lingering to squeeze where he knows you’re sensitive, and you reward him by squealing against his lips as your pussy clamps down on him. with his head now hovering over yours, he pulls away to look you in your eyes, takes in the beauty of how fucked out you look panting beneath his body and coming undone by his hands, from his dick pumping into you. swollen lips that pour out your sweet, pretty little moans and glossy eyes, your round tits that bounce with every move he makes, dark bruises forming on your skin from where he marked you, and your pussy, god, your pussy pulling him in like you were so fucking desperate to be filled to the brim with his cum—

“fuck, toshi please, i’m begging you...” you moan, breathless; needy. “i need your cum, baby, please... cum inside me, hm?”

the pure yearning in your voice as your eyes lock with his sends him over the edge, a long moan of your name shakes you to your core as his cock twitches inside of you, spurting loads of cum inside your greedy cunt and painting your insides white. the feeling of his cum spreading around inside of you, mixing with your moisture and gushing against your walls nearly blinds him with the feeling, and yet he focuses on how good he feels inside of you, how fucking gorgeous you look beneath him while the sun hits your brown skin, how you glisten like diamonds in his arms and, really, you’re the most beautiful person wakatoshi’s ever laid his eyes on.

the warm sensation of him filling you up causes you to smile as you mutter little praises for him, “that’s it, give me everything... feels good?” to which he nods into your hands, ever seeking of your skin against his face as he tilts further into your hold. the both of you are breathless as your highs fade out, and wakatoshi’s forehead presses against yours, his body collapses lightly against you as he tries to regain his breath.

you both stay this way, basking in the afterglow of sex that slowly fades out, eyes locked with each other and chests heaving with your laboured breaths until wakatoshi leans down and plants a full, sweet kiss against your lips. you hum against him as your arms come to wrap around his shoulders and your fingers tangle into his hair, pulling him to lay entirely on top of you while his hands wrap around your waist.

“i love you,” you murmur between your kisses, chuckling when he greedily chases you for more, the taste of your lips addicting and so, so fulfilling to him. he loves them, loves the way your body feels so warm against him, loves the way your fingers card through his hair, loves the way your locks splay beneath your body, loves the way the waves crash against the shore on gentle symphonies like a soundtrack, the way the sun shines its light down on you; he smiles and presses a whisper against your lips that sings like a declaration of his affections.

“i love you, (y/n).”

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#ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima x reader #ushijima x reader smut #ushijima wakatoshi x reader smut #ushijima wakatoshi #haikyuu ushijima #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader smut #hq x reader #hq smut #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu scenarios #hq ushijima #hq x reader smut #treasures of the crown.⚜️#midnight whispers.🌌

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comfy-whumpee · 3 years

Text

On His Shoulders

Whumptober Day Five: Misunderstanding. CN: angry whumpee, violent trauma response.

@iaminamoodymoodtoday, @wildfaewhump, @ishouldblogmore, @lektric-whump, @that-one-thespian, @raigash, @burtlederp, @rosesareviolentlyread, @eatyourdamnpears and as always, @ashintheairlikesnow writes Savvie.

When Kieran came home, Jax was sitting on the sofa in the dark of the early dusk, staring at the wall, and not moving.

It was a Thursday, one of the days Jax’s dad took the kids after school and gave them dinner so that Jax could have a break. It was a day when Jax often came out worse than he had the day before, because he allowed himself to be miserable. He carried the sky on his shoulders, and some days, he needed to let it fall.

Kieran noted how Jax didn’t look over when the door closed, which was unlike him. Normally he was the first to check that the person knocking was who he expected, and the first to peer inside their car before getting in. He set the burglar alarm at least twice every time he went out, second-guessing whether he had remembered unless someone was there to reassure him. Surprise gifts gave him panic attacks, and surprise romantic gestures, even more so. He was always waiting for the day Savannah Marcoset sent him a message to show she was still watching and waiting for a chance to snatch him again.

But not today. Today, Jax stared at the wall, and didn’t move when Kieran took off his shoes and hung up his coat. He didn’t even twitch, except to blink, when Kieran approached.

He didn’t move a millimetre even when Kieran sat down next to him.

“What’s happening, love?” Kieran asked softly, keeping his voice light and his hands visible on his knees. “You’re frozen.”

Jax nodded stiffly, barely an inch. His jaw worked for a moment, but no sound came out.

“Did something happen?”

The faintest jerk of his head to the side and back again. Nothing discernible had happened.

“Can you tell me how you’re feeling?”

Another tiny jerk. His stare burned a hole in the wallpaper, fixed as a laser.

Kieran thought of what else he could say. It was hard talking to an atlas carved from marble. “Can I help?”

Another jerk-shake.

“Do you want me to leave?”

There was no movement to that one. Kieran knew that asking someone to leave could be hard for Jax, when he was thinking about Savvie. But he also knew that asking someone to stay, sincerely, was even harder than that. So he lingered, trying to understand. He tried to lean back and show Jax there was no threat here.

“Is this a fear response?” he asked. He dearly wanted to ask Alfie, but Alfie was out. Jax twitched his head for no, anyway. “Is it a… Sadness thing? Energy thing?”

Two more shakes in quick succession, the movements sharper, less tightly controlled. “C’mon, love. You can move. We’ve gotten this far. I just want you to get comfortable.”

It was deeply wrong to see Jax so perfectly still, but for the occasional twitch. He must have been holding himself in such meticulous restraint. Kieran couldn’t see even his fingertips moving, nails dug under the seam of his jeans but as frozen as the rest of his body.

“Jax,” he began, lifting a hand to push a lock of hair behind his ear--

--and Jax jerked away from the motion like it was a raised gun, hands flying out to shove hard at Kieran’s shoulders, voice lashing out, “No! Get off me!”

Caught completely off guard, Kieran tumbled from the sofa to the carpet, looking up in surprise more than hurt.

“Don’t touch me,” Jax said, suddenly on his feet, fists clenched at his sides, face tight and pale. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

Kieran raised his hands, staying on the floor. “I won’t, love. I wouldn’t.”

“Don’t call me that.”

That stung. Kieran swallowed. “Okay. I won’t.”

Jax’s jaw was tight, tight enough to almost hide the wobble in it. He glared at the wall behind Kieran’s head. “I was trying not to do this but you had to fucking - you wouldn’t leave me the hell alone. Just leave me alone.”

“I will. That’s okay, if that’s what you need.” Kieran shuffled back. “I just want to help.”

“Don’t fucking bother.” The worst twisted out of Jax’s mouth with force, and he turned to look away. His shoulders were stiff. He pulled away from the sofa and made for the door, and then turned, lingering for a moment. “Why can’t you stay away from me?”

Cold understanding washed across Kieran’s skin and he breathed out a sigh, lowering his head. “I’m sorry. I did the wrong thing, didn’t I?”

“Everyone always does the wrong thing,” Jax replied, acid dripping from each word. But something felt off, underneath. Something bleak.

He’d been trying to hold back this mood from the second Kieran walked in. He’d teetered on the edge of it and held on until the fear snapped him out of it. The fear of being hit. Survival mode had kicked in, and the core of Jax’s survival had always been his defiance.

“I can go,” Kieran offered, looking up with concern at Jax’s angry, distant glare. He was distracted by memories, half-present. Kieran shivered. “I can stay the night somewhere else. Your dad can keep the kids. It can just be you.”

“Don’t you dare bring the kids anywhere fucking near this.”

Kieran winced. “That’s okay. That’s - it’s okay. If that’s what you want.”

“Shut up!” Jax snapped, taking a step back as if physically hurt. “You don’t fucking know a thing, stop acting like you get it - stop talking about my goddamn kids.”

I thought they were our kids.

He should go. Jax wanted him to go. This was different, to how he’d seen Jax before, rough and desperate and violent, and Kieran was horribly ashamed to admit that he was scared of this Jax.

“I’m sorry,” he tried, wavering.

Jax turned again, heading through the doorway to their bedroom, and slammed the door shut so hard the windows rattled.

The anger ate him alive on any day he failed to keep it sealed. It never lasted long anymore. Every outburst was the last sputter of a candle about to blow out.

In the sudden silence of the living room, Kieran exhaled the breath he had been holding. He got up, stiffly, to tidy away Jax’s coffee mug and the magazine he had left open.

The lurid headline caught his eye. Hate the artist, love the art: why we know too much about our music heroes’ personal lives.

Skimming the article, Kieran saw it. Amongst a small list of other imprisoned musicians was, from the classical scene, violinist Savannah Marcoset, serving life.

Kieran knew immediately that Jax had read the article from top to bottom. Probably twice. The conclusion, he saw with dismay, asked, Are we not capable of engaging in our simple love of music, away from the grand moral implications of our Spotify stream?

The page was crumpled in the middle, as though Jax had crushed it in his hand.

Kieran threw the article away and set about making dinner.

From the bedroom, there was the loud thump of Jax kicking a piece of furniture, and faintly underneath, the sound of his first sob.

#whump #whumptober2021 #no.5 #misunderstanding #angry whumpee #recovery whump #caretaker whump #freeze response #anger #angst #the perfect cocktail #past trauma #my fic #jax #kieran

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loveislattes · 3 years

Text

Everything Comes at a Price (Demon!Dark/Fem!Reader) Chapter 1

Commission prompt: Reader is really depressed, and Dark decides to roughly Fuck the depression out of them

Important: Reader has female pronouns and is a vagina owner!

Warnings (For this chapter specifically): Talk of depression and stressful life, mentions of unnamed character death, mentions of beheading/dismembered head and some minor blood/gore (not too detailed), cursing, mentions of family in the hospital, demon!Dark (akin to jinn or genie), and pet names.

A/N: PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS! This first chapter is allllll story setting. Part two will have the good ol' rough and dominating Dark fucking.

As always, if you would like to support me, I have a Ko-Fi (here) for donations and I usually have a few slots open for commissions (unless life gets in the way)!

“Look, I think it’s just best if you take some time off.”

Though worded nicely, you instinctually felt the pang of panic and anger already bristling in your chest.

“Time off��” you murmur, eyes sliding down to your boss’s desk in thought, “As in, a week or two or…?”

You let the implication hang heavy in the air. There was a telling silence that followed your question. When you finally met his gaze again, your boss let out a hefty sigh. Before he even said anything, you knew what his answer was by the sympathy on his face alone.

“We won’t fight your unemployment for the first few months, which hopefully will be enough time for you to find another place of employment. I’m sorry, Miss Y/N, but between the company making cutbacks and your recent drop in productivity, I had to-”

“Don’t you dare,” you hissed sharply, interrupting him before he could finish the excuse.

Rage fueled your motions, forcing you to your feet while your eyes narrowed on the man you’d once thought a decent person.

“A drop in productivity?” you scoffed, “My apartment building was just destroyed in a freak fire two weeks ago that, of course, my insurance refused to cover. I’ve been bouncing place to place between motels and friend’s homes until I can afford another deposit on the measly pay you give us. My mother is in the hospital, in the ICU, after a freak hit and run. My car broke down yesterday and I walked thirty fucking minutes in the pouring rain today just to make sure you assholes weren’t a man down with all this work. And you knew all of this, but you still decided to fire me? I can’t- You know what, fuck you. Fuck you and fuck this place! I hope this whole company shuts down and you get to experience even a modicum of the instability I’ve had to!”

Before he could respond, you slammed the chair back into place against the desk and stormed from the room. You could feel the confused gazes from your coworkers as you marched to the door but didn’t dare spare them a glance. Most of them you considered to be your friends and you knew you’d have to explain everything later, but you couldn’t allow anything other than anger to inhabit your body at that moment. One bit of sadness and you would crumble. Rage would keep you safe until you made it to your temporary home for the night.

Little curses and fury-filled resentment spilled from your lips as you stepped out into the dreary public. Of course, it was still raining. You hadn’t even dried off from your trek to work and now you were thrown right back out into the storm. A timely crack of lightning rumbled across the sky as you shot one last middle finger back at the door.

“I can’t believe this shit,” you grumbled.

Pulling your raincoat up over your head, you kept your gaze down and began your journey back to the hotel. The one upside to all the rain was that the sidewalks were nearly barren. Cars sped by on the busy roads but you were alone on foot. In fact, you didn’t see a single soul until you were on the block housing your hotel, and somehow that lonely occupant still managed to slam into you.

“Excuse you,” you muttered.

“So sorry, please excuse me.”

The person’s voice sent shivers down your spine and every last hair stood up on your arms. Reflexively you pulled back as a hand touched your side, ready to give them a mouthful, but they were moving on by the time you could gather your wits about you. All you caught was a tall form in a black business suit striding off in the opposite direction.

With an irked tsk and a mutter of “Fucking asshole”, you rushed into the lobby, stomping the rain from your shoes along the rubber mat. Sure you were pissed off but you still had the human decency not to create more work for others.

You managed a little nod to the desk clerk on your way by to the elevator. As you watched the numbers climb slowly down, you mentally questioned the fates if the world was against you. The elevator stopped on literally every- single- floor; All 25. Trying to maintain your composure, you leaned up against the wall and let your eyes flutter closed, slowly breathing in and out rhythmically. Just a little longer and you’d be in the safety of solitude. You could let it all out.

The ding of the lift doors opening pulled you out of your little meditative session and you immediately let out a grateful sigh of appreciation upon realizing it was empty. Being stuck in a small metal box with others for an undetermined amount of time made your skin crawl, much less when you were already on the edge of snapping. You mashed the close button repeatedly until the metal doors finally sealed shut and the elevator began to move. The rest of the journey was a blur until you stopped at your room door and fished your card out of your pocket, coming out with not only the plastic key but a large silver coin.

“The fuck?” you muttered.

As the door buzzed open, you flipped the coin over in your fingers, trying to think back on when you had gotten it. You were pretty sure you’d never seen anything like it before; completely void of any details on one side but the other filled with finely engraved words.

The loud startling thump of your keys as you threw them on the nightstand wasn’t even enough to draw your concentration away from the interesting little trinket. It took a few minutes and some good lighting but you eventually figured out what was written; the discovery only confusing you further.

“Clutch this coin to thee whilst ye make a plea

In return ye shall become my endless devotee”

“Yeah… that’s not creepy at all,” you sighed.

Tossing the coin on the nightstand next to your keys, you sloughed off your wet clothes and tossed them in the small hamper next to your duffle bag. After this horrid morning, you needed a long hot shower before you pondered on any strange coins or the mental shithole that had become your life.

You weren’t sure exactly how long you spent under the burning water but, by the time you exited, you were both hungry and in dire need of some caffeine.

“Or a nap. A nap could be heavenly,” you murmured to yourself.

Towel around your head, you dropped into the bed naked and took a moment to revel in the sheets against your freshly lotioned skin. There was hardly a better feeling. Thank god you had the good sense to buy some of your own sheets rather than rely on whatever the hotels had to offer. It made your day the tiniest bit better.

As you leaned back against the headboard, you snagged up the coin once more. The metal was cool against your warm fingers as you flipped it around and around. Did you dare give it a try? What was the worst outcome: You felt silly for believing a random coin and no one would ever know? Although, what if it was legit...?

Now that thought made you feel silly. A little chuckle passed your lips before you clasped the coin between your hands and brought it to your chest, closing your eyes as if about to pray.

“Alright, I don’t know how this works so I’m just gonna state my wishes out loud. I hope that works for, well, whoever you are. First off, I want that backstabbing business ruined. They fucked me over after I bent over backward for them, now they deserve to feel the same. Please. Second, I don’t know how you could do it, but I’d really like my insurance company to finally approve my apartment claim so I can find another place soon. Third-”

You trailed off as emotions immediately welled up behind your eyelids, the burning already tingling in the back of your throat from holding them in.

“My third and most important wish, please, if nothing else, find the one that put my mom in the ICU and make them pay. Those idiots down at the police department couldn’t find them, or so they say anyway, so just… give them what they deserve, please.”

With a stifled sniffle, you wiped away the few tears that had escaped and fell back against the headboard, eyes staring unseeing at the ceiling as you let the pain wash over you; Rage, dread, hope, apathy, desperation. Eventually, the unending barrage became too much to deal with. This wasn't a new thing in your life, but it had certainly culminated into something worse with everything going on in your life; clinical depression exacerbated by a series of unfortunate events.

With no other plans for the day and the weight of your heart heavy in your chest, you chose to simply roll over and bury yourself, and your troubles, in the fluffy comforter. You’d feel better after a nap. You were almost certain of it.

Even as you drifted off into sleep, the tears didn’t cease.

When you first woke, you weren’t sure what had roused you but you knew it wasn’t good; All you could feel was bone-trembling terror. You couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, felt frozen in place with only the ability to stare at the now dimly lit wall; watching the shafts of setting sunlight ever so slowly creep down by the minute.

“Come now, darling,” a low voice crooned in the void behind you, “I know you’re awake.”

Like a rubber band snapping, the grip on your body suddenly released and you shot up in bed, immediately turning around to find out who had spoken. You weren’t sure what you expected but it certainly wasn’t the devilishly handsome man that was seated next to the window. The sunlight pouring down on him made it very obvious that his skin was lacking any range of melanin, rather being pallor shades of whites, blacks, and greys, but that didn't detract from his appearance at all. In fact, he looked like something out of a Gothic romance novel or a Tim Burton movie. Once the enchantment of seeing him began to wear off, you finally noticed what sat on the table next to him.

A human head.

“Holy fuck!”

A hellish screech escaped your lips as you hastily scrambled backward, trying to get as far away from him as quickly as possible, only to go careening off the edge of the mattress. The pain of impact on the floor couldn’t even deter you. As your back hit the wall, you kept your eyes pinned on the intruder, watching for any sign that he was going to follow you or attack.

“While I’m certainly not minding the show, don’t you think you’re rather underdressed for this occasion?” he spoke suddenly.

It took a few moments for his words to sink in but the moment they did, you launched yourself back at the bed with a hushed curse and promptly pulled the sheets up around your naked body.

“Who are you? How did you get in here? I-Is- Is that real?”

Long clawed fingers made their way into the matted, bloody mess of hair and pulled the body part free from the table with a sickening pop.

“It is undoubtedly real, but I figured you’d believe me much quicker if I had a visual aide to my claims,” he replied, dropping the offending thing before tossing you a sharp, seductive, smile, “The name is Dark. I’m a demon and the owner of the coin you wished upon.”

Your tongue felt too heavy to move while you watched in horror as he licked the blood from his fingers like a cat bathing itself.

“I- I don’t-”

“You don’t understand,” he supplied helpfully.

As he rose from his seat, you stared at him owlishly, unable to take your eyes off his graceful form as he nearly glided across the floor to stand in front of you.

“That coin,” he hummed, pointing at the metal disc in question, “It belongs to me. When someone makes a wish while holding it, I’m able to hear them. In your case, I heard all three.”

Trepidation tickled the nape of your neck when your eyes slowly rolled over to the head once more. It was as if you couldn’t breathe. Sick crawled up your throat and it took every ounce of your strength to keep from vomiting at the man’s feet. You don’t know how long you sat there, struggling to breathe and ease the nausea but, when it finally went away, rage took over.

“I didn’t want you to actually KILL them!” you shouted.

The demon casually arched a brow in your direction before saying, “You specifically wished for the one involved in your mother’s accident to get what they deserved.”

“Yeah! Like prison! Not death!”

A soul-trembling crack resounded through the small hotel room as he slowly craned his neck side to side, ethereal pulses of red and blue emanating from his being. Some of the previous ire slipped from your hold when he moved even closer, step by step until his knees were touching yours.

“I will never understand you humans and your sense of righteousness. Would it ease your mind to know this wasn’t the first time they had committed such heinous crimes?” he asked.

“W-What?” you questioned softly.

“I will not delve into details but rest assured that your embarrassing sense of compassion was lost on them; they were vermin,” he explained, “Now, that makes three wishes fulfilled. You have two remaining.”

You thought back on exactly what wishes you had made and were immediately overcome with dismay.

“Wait, what did you do?!” you demanded, jumping to your feet and glaring up at him, “You didn’t kill anyone else, did you?!”

A twinge of disdain passed through his features. His hand landed heavily on your shoulder and you were shoved back down onto the bed with a 'tsk' of disapproval, as if scolding a misbehaving child.

“Fortunately for you, no. Your previous place of employment has simply been condemned for multiple code violations that have mysteriously come to light during a surprise investigation, and your insurance company has been informed that they’re facing a lawsuit if they don’t reevaluate your claim with a more positive outlook.”

Relief flushed through your veins and you thanked him meekly. You wouldn’t have been able to live your life knowing you had caused the deaths of so many people, let alone friends.

“So, what now?” you asked.

“You have two more wishes before your soul belongs to me.”

He said it with such finality and ease that you almost didn’t react at first. Once his words settled in though, oh, panic quickly followed.

Gaping up at him in wide-eyed disbelief, you tried to stammer out some rebuttal or plea, but nothing would come out. Panic soon gave way to defeat as you realized there was no obvious way to get out of this ordeal. It had been clear as day on the coin.

Thinking on the offending piece of metal, you looked over and snagged it up, reading the inscription once more.

“Clutch this coin to thee whilst ye make a plea

In return ye shall become my endless devotee”

“So that’s what this meant,” you sighed quietly, before gazing at him once more, “And there’s no way to bargain out of this?”

He looked mildly pleased by your inquiry, letting out a little hum before falling back into an ornate chair that definitely hadn’t been there a few seconds ago.

“And what would you bargain?” he purred, “What could a simple little human such as yourself have to give to me, other than your soul of course.”

You cursed his infallible logic and stayed quiet as you tried to think over your options. Truly, you had nothing else to give him; no money nor gifts. Your soul was the only valuable thing you owned, and there was no undoing what had been done. A person had died because of your wish.

With a heavy sigh, you sat up to your full height and prepared yourself mentally.

“Is there a time limit? Do I have to make my wishes today or can I think about them?” you asked.

“You’re free to use them when and wherever you wish. However, do not think this a loophole. Choosing to postpone your wishes until death does not release you from this contract. Your soul will still belong to me when you die.”

Well fuck. There went that option. If you were doomed no matter what, you might as well make use of the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity... right?

“I’m going to need time,” you whispered.

“Fair enough,” he replied, finally taking a step back, “You have my calling card. You can call for me if you have any questions, otherwise, you know what to do.”

He strolled back to the window and snagged the dismembered head, flashing you a wide smirk that framed his fangs perfectly.

“I’ll just be taking this with me. Hope to hear from you soon, darling.”

#Demon!Dark #Dark/reader #female reader #PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS PEOPLE #This chapter is a little dark #heh... dark #pun not intended #two part series #Chapter 1

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whitefawnn · 3 years

Text

blood letting (part 6)

c!wilbur soot x reader

warnings: manipulation, blood, physical fighting, panic attack, dissociation

masterlist of blood letting

note: read the warnings

“fuck.” he muttered. Y/n always right there for him, and what the fuck was he, a parasite stuck to their neck? He suddenly jumped to his feet, realizing what the conversation had meant. Words not worth feeling pity over for y/n was going to talk to Dream.

———-

I stormed through the halls, listening for sounds of rustling, of life. The sound of my blood rushing seemed to be far too present in my ears. I made my way to where I had last seen Dream last night, and I heard the sound of unfolding paper from a nearby room. A blood red carpet leading me to the slaughter. I quickly walked to the sound, posture held high, I needed to know my purpose if this was going to go well, if this was going to go at all.

“What a nice surprise.” Dream purred out looking up from the map he was studying on the large meeting table. His posture is always that of a predator’s, always waiting for you to slip up. The paper extended over almost the entire table, my eyes torn to look at the large crater that was almost dead in the center. “that’s l’manberg, you know. Just a crater, a fucking sad hole is all your revolution added up to.” I squinted my eyes at him, furrowing my brow. The words a new scar torn open to bleed the sickly blood of regret. He lowly chuckled in response, leaning over to create more red marks over the map, a mess of arrows and lines that meant nothing to me but somehow still seemed at least a bit unsettling.

“Always the charmer, Dream.” I said walking further into the room. I took a deep breath, settling my nerves that seemed to endlessly build in my chest. “Anyway, I need to talk to you,” he quickly snapped his head up to bare into me “Wilbur, he- he won’t speak up, but-“ he tilted his head. I felt myself pause, consider.

“but you will?” he said with a honeyed voice. The taste was too sweet on my tongue. Dream trailed around the table closer to me “you? will?” he questioned with arrogance in his voice, pointing a finger at my chest. The mask left his expression unreadable, his imposing posture making the hairs on my arms raise. was being belittled, pushed aside.

“y-yes.” I stuttered, he leaned forward as I clumsily stumbled back, losing ground in an already fruitless fight. “yes, I will, Dream.” I took a breath, shaking the anxieties from my head “You can’t hurt those people, I don’t care about your stupid fucking revenge. You’re out of the prison, Dream, get the fuck away from them and just fucking leave.” He stood taller now, his mask slightly chipped and looming over me. He seemed like a man who could blow out the sun's light. “Go fucking terrorize other people, leave them alone. Please,” I wanted to plead, to beg “you already got what you want.” Then suddenly he burst out into laughter, loud and disruptive.

“What a joke, you and your bold ideas, darling.” he once again leaned closer to me. His hand covered with a fingerless glove, he caressed my cheek. The touch a burning heat. “So pretty to be so fucking stupid” he spat with clear disdain. “and to think when I let Wilbur bring you, I thought you’d just be dead weight, a pain, but god you’re fucking worse.” He circled around me now, like an animal finally finding their prey. “I’m going to fucking slaughter them, y/n. If you are lucky, you won’t get caught up in it.”

—————-

Wilbur bounded up the red carpeted stairs, his heart beating in his throat. He muttered to himself, a silent prayer that y/n would be okay, a prayer that they would forgive him for his hesitance, a prayer that this waking nightmare would end. He didn’t want to be a coward, he didn’t want to be anything less than what y/n needed. He searched every room with wild eyes and shaky hands. A crazed man looking for the fix.

“Why the fuck is this fucking building so big?” he said running through each room. He pushed back his hair with an exasperated sigh. The white streak splitting the muddy brown like a strike of lighting “where are you?”

A loud thud resonated from the ground above him, opening a pit in his stomach.

——————-

“you won’t- you can’t-“ he shook his head, dismissing me. I scoured for what to do, shifting the weight on my feet. Ideas falling through like water through cupped hands. “If you don’t get the fuck away from the dream SMP,, Wilbur and I, we- we-“

“You’ll what, princess? Get your precious lover boy locked up. You don’t want that AND dead friends do you?” he sing songed, everything a taunt to make this game all the more fun for him. I was a mouse merely caught in his trap.

“Dream,” I mumbled, my voice wavering, I knew I wouldn’t be able to trust my voice but still I tried. Tried to speak, to say something. I came up here with the idea to lose a life, but maybe I hadn’t weighed that heavily enough. Weighed what it meant to its full capacity, a knife through the heart.

“y/n,” he purred back once again. Dream then slowly lifted his hastily made mask revealing his marred face and pushing back his matted hair in the process. I stared at him with wide eyes as he smirked down at me. His face one crafted of cracked marble. “You’ve always been so enticing, y/n, but always so fucking idiotic.” he sneered at me leaning even closer. His hot breath fanning across my face. “Part of the insistent thorn in my side, with your silly revolution, your stupid dotting over Wilbur.” My breaths began to be ragged “You got these puppy dog eyes, princess, these big puppy eyes.” He reached up to rub his thumb under my eye, I violently flinched back with a yelp. He quickly pulled me back towards him.

“Dream, please, I just-“ I couldn’t force the words out. I didn’t even know what I wanted to say. I just wanted my friends to be safe from the insidious man.

“Please what, puppy” he tilted my head up with a finger under my chin.

“I just want them to be okay-“ he swiftly slapped the cheek he had formerly been caressing, I cried out, bringing my hand to my face. I whimpered as he pushed me to the ground. My arm landing hard against the dark floorboards. Pain bloomed like clarity.

“useless,” he tched walking back over to the map to continue his work. I crawled over to press myself against the wall. The cool wood taking my back. My head began to spin again, a comfortable feeling really. The world becoming a wash of color, not misplaced feelings. I wanted to let go, give into the waves of pain that resonated from my arm. I lowly whined. A plea left unanswered as the wolf spoke with a low timber. “you stay right there, princess.” I let myself fall away.

—————-

“-princess” the nickname made Wilbur feel sick, the tone pushing the feeling further. He heard lightning crack, an angry blow. He walked into the wide open room to see Dream hunched over a table, fervently writing on a large map. The world laid out before him staring expectantly.

“Dream, where is y/n?” Wilbur pressed, Dream simply chuckled to himself, the mask once again placed over his face.

“right there,” he pointed to them, not lifting his head from the map “not that you should care.” he drew quiet, Wilbur looked down at y/n’s collapsed form, one of their cheeks a bright angry red. His feet were glued to the ground, “They don’t respect you, Wilbur, maybe you should treat them just the same, you know treat others how you wish to be treated.” Wilbur craned his head to look at Dream, his mask now unturned to look back. “they made their choice, coming up here to fucking complain.” Dream’s voice was laced with venom, each word a painful bite.

“and what do you suggest I do then,” Wilbur inquired, eyes still glued to them. A body that seemed to be everything in the moment. He watched as they shallowly breathed, a light bruise beginning to form under their right eye. Purple that stained like wine.

“get them out of here, then come back and we can do what we need to,” he chuckled, “without,” he paused, “distraction.” Wilbur leaned down, gently scooping y/n up in his arms. They lowly groaned, their face contorting to one of pain. He winced right back. “You do still need blood though hmm,” Wilbur turned to see Dream looking up at him. The mention of the substance making him feel woozy. “Maybe take some, I’m sure they’ll understand.” he seemed to coo the words, each one more unsettling. The implication making y/n’s weight heavier in his arms.

Wilbur gave a curt nod, focusing on not revealing his thoughts on the matter. He kept his body relaxed, his face expressionless. He let himself hide the growing storm, y/n deserves an umbrella from the pouring rain. He proceeded to leave the room without a word. Finding his way to the horses still tied up in the front, he took off.

“thank god you didn’t die.” he whispered to y/n “I’m gonna fix this, I promise.” he didn’t receive a reply. Only silence that barred into him solidifying guilt.

#mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #wilbur x reader #mcyt x y/n #wilbur soot x reader

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glimmerglanger · 3 years

Note

*whispers* if youre taking spicy prompts, may i suggest impotent!obi-wan + prostate stimulation for obikin please? Only if youre okay with it!!! I cannot thank you enough for all the chocolate cakes and sincerely wish you to be happy. thank you again and again and again!!!

soooooooooo i originally planned for this be for Sunday, but it’s really more ~feelings~ and dealing with a rough spot than just spicy. (Though, it is not safe for wizards, to be clear). It’s just not predominantly spicy. SO. I’m, uh... posting it now, instead? It also got longer than I expected.

Obikin, established relationship. Not safe for wizards. Implications of past torture. Set sometime during the Clone Wars. Starts tense, ends well.

~~~~~~~~~~

They’d been together - whatever that meant, for them, at any given time - for an embarrassing stretch of time before Anakin noticed that he’d never properly touched Obi-Wan. In his defense, they’d spent the majority of that time deployed on one planet or another, not always together, even.

It was a weak defense, as such things went. He should have noticed sooner. It was just that….Obi-Wan always had an excuse, a reason to bolt away as soon as Anakin’s hands wandered southward, or if Anakin tried to tug at his waistband, or if he pressed too close, or--

The realization that he - actually - had no idea if Obi-Wan even wanted him hit while Obi-Wan was climbing off his knees. Obi-Wan’s mouth was red, wet. His cheeks were flushed. A moment ago, Anakin’s hands had been in his hair and Anakin’s cock had been--

“Feel better?” Obi-Wan asked, flashing him a grin and licking across his bottom lip. He looked flushed, hot and bothered. But when Anakin reached for him, he slid to the side, continuing, “I’m overdue for a meeting, we should catch up, later, though, before you return to the Resolute.”

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin managed to say, around the sudden clamoring realization in his head. But he was talking to nothing. Obi-Wan was already gone.

Confusion hit first, as Anakni tucked himself back into his pants. He went back over his memories, sure he’d--what, forgotten bringing Obi-Wan off? That was kriffing ridiculous, and he knew it. But…

But it seemed equally as ridiculous to realize that he’d never even gotten a hand inside Obi-Wan’s trousers. They’d just been so busy. And Obi-Wan had always had a reason, had always seen to Anakin and then…. Slipped away.

The confusion, really, didn’t last very long. It was crowded out all too effectively by anger.

Anakin had been stewing for hours by the time Obi-Wan got back to his quarters. Anakin hadn’t left; knew he should have left, but…

He was sitting on the edge of Obi-Wan’s bed - a bed where Obi-Wan had touched him, stroking him until he came, only a few days ago - when the door opened. He felt a wash of fondness and warmth from Obi-Wan through the Force, and gritted his teeth together.

“There you are,” Obi-Wan said, tone warm, crossing the room, bending, and Anakin turned his face away. He felt Obi-Wan hesitate, felt the way Obi-Wan’s hand tensed on his shoulder. Heard puzzlement in Obi-Wan’s voice when he asked, wry, “Not in the mood, darling?”

The anger that had been kindling in Anakin’s chest flared brighter. He looked over, scowling, and snapped, “I don’t need your kriffing pity, you know?”

Obi-Wan blinked at him, hand still resting on Anakin’s shoulder. “I’ve no idea--”

He cut off when Anakin stood, and took a step back. Anakin followed him, itching with frustration and with - with humiliation, too. “What?” he asked, fighting the tightness in his throat, “you thought I just wouldn’t notice that you’ve been - what, exactly? Helping me out of - of duty?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Obi-Wan said, and then, louder, “Anakin!” when Anakin backed him into the wall.

“I don’t need charity,” Anakin snarled, his spine a line of crackling lightning. “Despite what you might think, I don’t need your kriffing pity to get off. I’d rather use my own hand than have you -- put yourself out.”

Obi-Wan flinched at the words, color washing out of his face. He made to shift to the side and Anakin braced his hand on the wall. Obi-Wan looked across at him, mouth pressed tight, and said, “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but nothing I’ve done with you has been motivated by pity. Or charity. You must know that I--”

“What?” Anakin snapped, nerves strung too tight under his skin. “That you enjoy it?”

Obi-Wan scowled across at him, chin going up. “Of course, I--”

“Oh?” Anakin leaned closer, watched Obi-Wan’s eyes get wider. He put his other hand on Obi-Wan’s side, and rasped, dragging his fingers over cloth, “Then why don’t you show me how much you--”

Obi-Wan caught his wrist, squeezing hard, eyes getting strange and distant, expression….washing flat. All blank lines. He said, “Anakin, don’t.”

Anakin jerked his face to the side, barking a laugh. “Right,” he said, sharp, “that’s what I thought. I don’t even make you hard, do I? I think we’re done, then, if that’s--”

“I can’t.” Obi-Wan bit out, as Anakin pushed away from the wall, leaving him standing there, looking increasingly small. Anakin blinked, the sweep of his anger and embarrassment coming up short, blockaded.

He asked, “What?”

Obi-Wan’s mouth twitched, not into a smile. He was still staring forward, not at anything in particular. “I can’t ‘get hard,’” he repeated, gesturing out to the side with one hand, stepping away from the wall and tugging his robes to order. “Not since -- Rattatak. Ventress, she-- I - I can’t--” He cut off, shaking his head, sharply.

“I’m sorry to have upset you,” he said, before Anakin could recover from the curdling horror that had overtaken his anger too rapidly to be stopped. “I hope that your return to the Resolute is pleasant.” And then he was gone, just like that, out the door, before Anakin could lurch after him.

Anakin missed his transport to the Resolute. He sent Rex and Ahsoka a message, letting them know something required his attention on the Negotiator. He promised he’d meet up with them once they all reached their destination.

And then he grabbed Obi-Wan’s padd and did some research, anger and mortification still moving through him, but...but at least they had a purpose. He already had more than enough reasons to want Ventress dead. Adding one more to the pile didn’t make much of a difference in the long-run.

The shame of accusing Obi-Wan of - of being terrible to him, set heavier in his gut. Anakin pushed it aside. He could make it right. He could fix it. He was good at fixing things, always had been, even if people weren’t as easy as machines and droids.

He had a plan by the time Obi-Wan’s doors slid open again.

Obi-Wan hesitated in the doorway - he must not have been paying attention, not to pick up Anakin’s presence in the room before - and said, after a moment, “Something you needed, Anakin?”

Anakin stood, grimacing a little. “Yeah,” he said, clearing his throat. “A few things, actually.”

Obi-Wan nodded, still looking over to one side. He said, exhaustion in his voice, “Could they perhaps wait until--”

“I’m sorry,” Anakin blurted, into the space between them. Sometimes it felt like he was always apologizing to Obi-Wan, or to the Council, or to… Well. So many different people. Obi-Wan blinked, looking towards him for the first time. “I shouldn’t have...said those things I said, earlier, I just didn’t - you never told me, Obi-Wan. I didn’t know.”

Obi-Wan stared across at him. He said, “I told you I cared for you. I told you I wanted you.”

Anakin grimaced, flexing his hands in and out. “I know. I - I meant about Ventress. You never--”

He knew it was a mistake, even before he said it. Obi-Wan tensed across his shoulders, taking a half-step back towards the door, and Anakin blew out a breath. “But that’s alright,” he said, as reassuring as he could be, “I still shouldn’t have - I’m still sorry, Obi-Wan.”

He took a step closer, and Obi-Wan didn’t bolt, which was a good sign, he thought. Obi-Wan sighed, instead, and said, “I’m not angry at you, Anakin.”

“I know that.” Obi-Wan so rarely got angry with him. He sighed and risked touching Obi-Wan’s arm, relieved when Obi-Wan leaned into the touch. He dared pull Obi-Wan closer, into an embrace, chest aching when Obi-Wan leaned his forehead down, resting on Anakin’s shoulder. “I really am - so sorry. I just - I want you so much, and I thought - I thought you didn’t want me at all, and…” And he’d said idiotic, stupid things. He swallowed. “Let me make it up to you.”

Obi-Wan sighed, resting there against his chest, “There’s nothing to make up, I’m not--”

“There is,” Anakin said, shifting, breathing against his hair. “And I - I have a plan. Just. Come here. Please.”

Obi-Wan didn’t protest being led across to the bed, but he did wrinkle his nose. He said, “Anakin, I’m not exaggerating. I really can’t--”

“You don’t need to,” Anakin told him, ducking to kiss him. Force, he was an idiot. Obi-Wan kissed him so sweet and hungry, every time. He should have known--

Anakin shook that thought aside, sinking down onto the bunk and drawing Obi-Wan down across his lap. He felt a little tinge of embarrassment at how quickly he got hard; he knew Obi-Wan had to be able to feel it, but… Obi-Wan made no comment about it and did not seem bothered as Anakin drew him into another kiss.

“Are you apologizing by kissing me?” Obi-Wan asked, eventually, when Anakin’s mouth felt tender and his jaw ached. He sounded amused, more than anything. Relaxed. Anakin shrugged, a little.

“Not really,” he said, and took the opportunity to start tugging at Obi-Wan’s belt.

Obi-Wan made a little sighing sound, but helped, at least, with the removal of his robes. He said, “I know you like to solve problems, Anakin, but I--”

“I’m not trying to solve anything,” Anakin told him, kissing his soft, lovely mouth. “I just want to be close to you.”

Obi-Wan shot him a look that said he didn’t believe a word of it, but didn’t protest further. He shivered at the kisses Anakin scattered across his neck and shoulder, anyway, and made sweet, delightful sounds as Anakin trailed touches across his skin. He hesitated, a little, when Anakin reached for his pants, and Anakin rasped, “It’s alright, let me.”

There were scars, all over Obi-Wan’s body. Some of them stretched across his stomach or ranged over his thighs. He’d never given them much thought. He traced them, absently, falling back into kissing Obi-Wan, stretching a hand out to retrieve the lubricant he’d set aside earlier.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan rasped, eventually, stained red all over his shoulders, voice quaking, “listen to me, I can’t--”

“I’m not trying to make you,” Anakin promised, kissing him again. “I have - I want to touch you. To make you feel good, but I’m not expecting -- just, just relax, alright? Let me take care of you. Just for a while.”

Obi-Wan wavered, tense in his arms, and then nodded. Anakin felt him relax, felt him choose to trust, and it made Anakin’s chest ache. Obi-Wan made a puzzled sound when Anakin tugged at him, turning him so his back rested against Anakin’s chest, while Anakin leaned against the wall.

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to accomplish,” Obi-Wan rasped, as Anakin trailed kisses down his neck, sliding hands down his chest. He was painfully hard in his pants, but - but Obi-Wan had taken care of him so sweetly, earlier. He could deal with his erection, trapped in fabric, pressed to Obi-Wan’s back.

“I’m trying to make you feel as good as you make me feel,” Anakin murmured, making a protesting sound when he felt Obi-Wan open his mouth. “I know you can’t get hard, Obi-Wan. Relax.”

Obi-Wan cut off in a groan when Anakin nipped at his shoulder. Anakin smiled against his skin and slid a hand down his skin. Obi-Wan squirmed when Anakin tugged at his thigh, spreading his legs. Anakin drew his own leg up, hooking Obi-Wan’s over the top, and Obi-Wan gasped, “Oh, Anakin, I--”

“Sh,” Anakin murmured, nuzzling against his neck. “I’ve got you.” He curled his arm around Obi-Wan’s waist and held him, using the Force to slick his other fingers with the lube. “You just tell me how it feels, alright?” he said, sliding his hand down, back--

Obi-Wan jolted, a little, at the brush of touch against his skin. His head tilted back, heavy on Anakin’s shoulder as Anakin touched him, dipped a finger tip inside him. There’d been...instructions, for what Anakin wanted to do, dry and fairly boring.

Anakin was pretty sure he’d gotten the gist of them, anyway. He trailed kisses across Obi-Wan’s skin, sliding his finger out and in again, Obi-Wan squirming against him as he asked, “Good so far?”

“Strange so far,” Obi-Wan panted out, a wry note in his tone. “I’m not sure--”

“I am,” Anakin said, sliding his finger in a little further, looking--

Obi-Wan jolted against him, suddenly, stomach tensing beneath Anakin’s arm. He let out a little sound, wordless. Surprised. Anakin smiled against his skin, the beginnings of satisfaction warming his gut, making him harder.

He rubbed the pad of his finger in a circle, buried there, inside Obi-Wan’s body. And, oh, he liked the idea of being inside Obi-Wan. He’d entertained it before, a burning desire to get as close as possible and then closer, to--

He cut off those thoughts. That was...not part of the plan at the moment. Perhaps later. He circled his finger, instead, listening to Obi-Wan make surprised, ragged sounds into the air. There’d been all kinds of suggestions, about drawing this out, making it last, making a person beg--

Anakin didn’t want Obi-Wan to have to beg. Not for this. But he did adjust his grip, did dare a second finger, sliding two inside and feeling Obi-Wan’s spine arch, feeling the sound he made. “How’s that?” Anakin asked, rasping, the pads of his fingers circling to apply direct pressure.

“Kriff,” Obi-Wan panted, and he was flushing, all down his chest, wriggling in Anakin’s hold, and it did not matter that he wasn’t hard, Anakin could feel the pleasure echoing off of him. “It’s -- it’s good, Anakin, what---?”

“It’ll get better,” Anakin promised, meaning it, plans all clambering together in his head as he withdrew his fingers. Obi-Wan made a sharp noise of protest. “Don’t worry,” he said, switched arms, sliding his right hand down, between Obi-Wan’s legs, “I’ve got you, I’m going to take care of you.”

Obi-Wan arched when Anakin sunk two fingers into him, leather sliding against skin. The muscles in his thighs and stomach tensed. And he cried out, ragged, when Anakin ran a little vibration through his fingers, the metal thrumming as he dragged his fingertips in a circle, pressing down harder, feeling--

“Oh, fuck,” Obi-Wan panted, grabbing at his arm, body clenching around Anakin’s fingers. “Anakin--”

“Mm,” Anakin nuzzled at his throat, tightening his hold, so desperately grateful that Obi-Wan had let him do this, let him apologize. “There you go,” he rasped, “just like that, come on.”

And he felt it, when Obi-Wan came, felt the way he flashed all over with sweet, hot pleasure in the Force, felt it in the clench of Obi-Wan’s body, in the way he went limp, breathing raggedly, and it didn’t matter, really, that his cock had never stirred.

“Force,” Obi-Wan slurred, sounding dazed, and Anakin hummed, sucked a kiss into his throat, and twisted his fingers, just a little.

#glimmer replies #ask me anything #obikin #not safe for wizards #spicy #anakin says things he regrets #whoops

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serowotonin · 3 years

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˗ˏˋ 𝗴𝗼𝗹𝗱𝗲𝗻 𝗱𝗮𝘆𝘀 ˎˊ˗

✰ PAIRING ( terushima yuuji x fem!reader ) ✰ WORDCOUNT ( 1.9k ) ✰ GENRE ( ansgt, songfic ) ✰ WARNINGS ( um one swear word, angst, implications of de*th )

all the memories that we make will never change we'll stay drunk, we'll stay tan, let the love remain and I swear that I'll always paint you golden days ♫ panic! at the disco

✰✰ NOTE.. so uH i think this is the first angst thing i wrote that im actually happy with and i know terushima isn’t someone a lot of ppl write for so to the few ppl who see this</3 hope u guys enjoy:”)

“Ughh where is it,” Terushima grumbled to himself as he pulled open drawer after drawer. He had searched all the cabinets, all the tables, and just about every inch of his apartment but has yet to find his phone charger.

As he closed the second to last drawer on this shelf, which held no phone charger, he pulled out his phone and saw it had 1% battery remaining. Quickly, he unlocked it and went to his contacts. Before he could make a call though, the screen turned black and he was left staring at a faint reflection of himself.

“Damn it,” he cursed under his breath. “She’s gonna get upset again.”

He clutched the now dead phone in one hand and ran the other through his hair, sighing in exhaustion. Today had been tiring enough with work and now he had this to deal with.

There was still one more drawer he hadn’t checked though. So, he lifted his hand out of his hair and pulled it wide open.

In it sat a small box.

He knew of its contents the moment he laid eyes on it. He also knew opening it now would only make him feel worse, not to mention, it would definitely delay his plans.

But for some reason, a longing for nostalgia or maybe the person that brought such nostalgia, his arms unconsciously moved to take the box into his hands.

Your words echoed in the back of his mind as he traced his fingers along the edges of the box.

“It’ll be like our little time capsule. For us to open when we’re all old and wrinkly…”

A deep sigh escaped his lips.

Every rational thought that came into his head begged him not to open it, to put it back, to forget he even found it.

Instead, his fingers moved to lift the cover and lay it down on the floor beside him.

And there you were... a polaroid of you at least.

Your lips were curved in a sweet smile inviting him in and breaking his heart all over again. Up until now, he could barely recall what your face looked like when you were happy, truly happy. He could only remember the tears and regret you had on your face towards the end…

But seeing you like this again, the wideness of your smile, the crinkle of your eyes… you radiated a joy and happiness he had begun to forget in you.

He stared at the picture for a good minute before turning it around to see the familiar strokes of your handwriting.

‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!!’ and under it ‘(first pic taken with the polaroid my baby Yuuji got for me<3)’

“My baby Yuuji,” he whispered.

“Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you,” he sang softly into your ear as he held you from behind, swaying gently in tune.

“Happy birthday dear Y/n.. Happy birthday to you~”

You turned to kiss the blond and he pulled you even closer to him.

“I love you babe, happy birthday...”

The tiredness he had felt just moments ago seemed to have fluttered away when he found you again in the polaroids, and a longing burst from the depths as he put the picture down and picked up another one, his hands once again moving on their own will.

This one had the two of you standing together, backs facing the camera. It was taken at a beach when the sun was still high in the sky and the water glistened blue. But it wasn’t the scenery that appealed to him, nor was it the way the sun wrapped around you two in perfect golden light.

It was how close you were to him. The physical distance between you two was barely existent. Your arms were wrapped around his waist and his were draped over your shoulders.

‘Sea breeze, cute outfit, sand between my toes, and 1 Terushima Yuuji… Damn was today great.’

How he would give to be that close to you again.

“Ok 3, 2, 1…”

You clung on to him as tight as you could and he smiled, pulling you closer.

At the sound of the camera click and the hum of the photo being printed, you let go and quickly turned around to thank the woman for taking the picture.

When you did that he felt off; as if a part of his body was just yanked away. It wasn’t an extreme feeling, nor was it painful in any way. It was more just a lingering emptiness that was put to rest a few seconds later when you were back by his side again.

He put his arm back on your shoulder and peered down at the polaroid in your hand. You were staring at the photo patiently waiting for the colors to fade in. And when it finally did, you smiled satisfactorily at it before tucking it away and flashing another smile to the man right next to you.

Terushima closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to clear his mind. It’s been years, he shouldn’t be dwelling on the past like this.

And yet, there was comfort in the pain the memories brought.

When he opened his eyes, they landed on yet another photo of you. And as he has been for a good part of his life, he was drawn to you. Reaching out a hand, he picked it up and let the memories wash over him once more.

After a while, he set it down and picked up another. And another. And another. Each capturing a moment with you he would never get back.

It’s been years since he’s had to learn to live without you. Truthfully though, he never did learn how. The sun became a little dimmer, the rain a little harder, the breeze a little less refreshing. The world lost its vibrancy when he lost you. He adapted, got used to the dullness, but he couldn’t learn to live the same anymore...

He picked up another polaroid.

This one didn’t have either of your faces on it. It just showed the two of you holding hands against a dark background.

The bottom held no words but instead an arrow pointing to the right. Terushima turned the polaroid and saw a small envelope attached to the back. Curious, he opened it up and pulled out the piece of paper snuggled inside.

‘This one’s a bit longer than any other note I’ve written for a polaroid but… I kinda just realized smth really important. He drove me out at 3AM in the morning to get food because I said I was hungry. Then we sat in his car listening to some old mixtapes he had. They were pretty crappy but it didn’t matter. I love Terushima Yuuji. I’ve said it a million times before but last night it really hit me, hard. I love him in a way I’d never be able to love anyone else.

I want to go on more dates with him. more stupid dates, more romantic ones, more 3AM dates, more cuddle dates. And even though it might be selfish of me, I want to spend my every breathing minute with him.

If I can’t have anything else in this then I just want these golden days of ours to last forever..’

And before he realized it, tears were rolling down his cheeks. Fuck it all. He missed you. He missed the days you had together, the nights spent in each others’ arms. He missed you so much it tore a hole in his heart and all he could see when he looked at the sunlight drifting through the window was just darkness.

It pained him to know that everything you wanted was all he ever needed. It pained him that he hadn’t realized this until it was too late. And it pained him most that you were never coming back.

Why’d you have to leave?

He tried so hard to stop asking this question, and for a while, he was successful. But the polaroids, your handwriting, the memories, you.. there was just so much pain in the happiness of the past.

But you were gone. He had accepted that long ago.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

“Terushima, you in here?” a familiar voice called from outside.

Right, he forgot about Misaki. Wiping any tears left on his face, he put all the polaroids back in the box, covered the lid, and left the room.

“DADDY!!” a little girl yelled, running at him full speed. He bent down and lifted her into his arms effortlessly.

“Oh you’ve gotten heavier. How much has Misaki been feeding you huh?” he teased.

The little girl pouted as she pointed to the floor signaling she wanted to be put down. Terushima chuckled and did so.

Walking over to a slightly annoyed-looking Misaki, he muttered an apology for not going to pick her up and a thanks for taking care of his daughter.

“Hey wait, you look like you’ve been crying… Are you ok Teru?” she asked, eyes showing her concern.

He let out a deep sigh.

“I uh- I found a box with some old pictures of Y/n and I just-”

She put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly.

“Look, I know you miss her and I know you know this, but don’t get too stuck in the past. Focus on what you have now,” she said looking in the direction of the young girl who had made her way over to the small pile of stuffed animals on the couch.

He rubbed his face and nodded, “Yeah. Yeah, thank you Misaki.”

“Ok,” she replied with a sympathetic smile. “I’ll be going then.”

Terushima nodded again and after she said bye to his daughter, he walked her to the door.

Turning back he leaned on the wall and looked affectionately at the girl playing on his couch. She was still so young, but it’s been almost 5 years now that he’s taken care of her.

Time seemed to fly by with her and yet it felt like so long ago he welcomed her to the world.

He understood now the past and its memories were something to be treasured. It was not something to cling on tightly though. The golden days of the past are gone, but the glittering rays that coated the floor and walls of his living room tell him it’s a new age.

It was an age he had to cherish well.

Deciding to do something he’s been putting off, he walked back into his room and brought out the box with all its polaroids and memories.

“Yui, come here. I want to show you something.”

She stared at him before taking one frayed teddy bear into her hands and walking over to her father. Taking his outreached hand, she looked at the box he held in his other.

Sitting at the top of the pile was a photo of a beautiful woman. The sun was shining bright in the background and the light swirled around her as if she was wrapped in a golden halo.

“Is she an angel?” Yui asked innocently, pointing to the picture.

“You got that right,” he replied with a sad smile. “She’s the most beautiful angel out there..”

He watched as the young girl picked up the photo, seemingly mesmerized.

“That angel is your mom.”

“My mom?” she echoed. “Mommy is an angel?”

He smiled and ruffled her hair, “She sure is, and you know what? She’s looking out for us from heaven, so you better be a good girl for her, okay?”

✰✰ NOTE.. pls lemme know if u guys thought this was angsty enough sdkjlsdg,,,, i dunno i can’t seem to tell whether angst is painful enough yet;-; also don’t mind the name yui dkglsd it was the first one i could think of T-T

✰✰✰ TAGLIST.. @lilikags @luna-in-luv @kureyama

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seacottons · 4 years

Text

Silent Song of the Sea

Yeosang’s lured and drowned many humans in the sea with his captivating voice. Fortunately, Wooyoung was deaf.

pairings: yeosang x wooyoung, san x reader

wc: 24k+

genre: siren!au, medieval times, royalty!au

warnings: supernatural beings, disabilities, language, blood, angst, gore, fluff, graphic violence, minor character death, domestic abuse, mental abuse, verbal abuse, implications of suicide, emotional trauma, mental health issues, unprotected sex, crazy reader(?), shiny yeosang

there was a problem with the html, so i had to reupload this. : (

You were twelve years of age when news broke out in your town of a boy who washed up on shore, along with a broken and tattered rescue boat. Chowing down on your breakfast in the dining hall amongst the other orphans, you overheard a few of the workers speaking about the young boy who spent days in the hospital, the town wondering where he came from. It was later that afternoon, when you were huddled with the rest of the other children in the yard that the director bought the young boy to introduce him to everyone. You struggled to peek from the taller children to catch a glimpse of the male, but you were shoved back slightly, the boys in front of you sneering, “Watch it, pipsqueak.”

Wooyoung was twelve years of age when he witnessed a young, tiny, frail child squabbling with a pair of boys. Gasps broke out within the group of children as a fist flew, followed by the crying of one of the young children. Wooyoung’s curious eyes never left your form as you were forcibly dragged inside by your ear, your fist smeared with the boy’s blood. You appeared to be shouting and stomping your feet in retaliation as you were dragged into the housing facility.

It was later that week when you were walking down the hall back to the children’s living space, when you noticed a group of four children surrounding the new kid, who huddled against the wall, beads of tears pooling in his eyes. “Why don’t you talk!” the tallest of the bunch growls in frustration, “You’re no fun at all!”

“Maybe he’s just stupid?” another girl quips, flicking her forefinger against Wooyoung’s forehead, sending the four into a pit of laughter and teasing. A wet squelch broke the train of laughter, and Wooyoung’s jaw dropped at the sight of the opened closet, brooms scattered onto the tiled floor, and you thrusting the wet, dripping mop into one of the children’s faces. Chaos ensued; a squeal of protest from one of the girls, loud footsteps, and bickering filled your ears. “(Y/n)! What do you think you’re doing!?” a worker tugged the mop out of your grasp, tugging you up with an arm securely fastened onto your tummy. You twisted in her hold, palms jutting out against her jaw in protest as you struggled to escape her grip.

“They were bullying Wooyoung!” you cried, and the four kids could only cower and deny your claims, their eyes flashing with fear, “Yes, you were! He’s crying! You said he was stupid!”

The worker stilled, and her eyes narrowed at the four children. A sigh escaped her as she settled you down, a stern expression painting her features, “For once, I think I’ll let you go. As for you four, to the director’s office. Now.”

You laughed smugly at the sight of the four trudging begrudgingly behind the woman, and you gasped in realization when you remembered the young boy. When your head snapped in his direction, he flinched, eyes wary and hands hurriedly reaching up to wipe his tears away.

“Y’know, you should really learn how to fight back,” you started, “They deserve a broken tooth or two.” He stared back at you, eyes flickering nervously as he fidgeted in place. You frowned, trying again, “Are you scared of them? I mean, Minjae is ugly— I would be scared of him too.” The boy’s gaze mirrored that of the gaping fish that stared at you from their tank in the director’s office.

You quirked a brow, arms crossing in front of your chest, “Okay. You don’t have to fight. I’ll fight for you. Just say my name, and I’ll be there. I’m (y/n).” Wooyoung’s hesitant hands reached up point two fingers at you, and he shook his head while cupping his hands around the shells of his ears. Suddenly, you understood, face leaning uncomfortably close to his as your jaw dropped, “You can’t hear me!?” You understood when his hands made a motion, your brows raising up in curiosity, “Oh, you use sign language? I don’t really know that. I can draw for you, though. Come on, I’ll show you!”

You were permitted to walk around town for a few hours every day before dinner, and the first place you wanted to visit was the library, much to Wooyoung’s confusion, “My friend, San, owns this library! I mean- his mom, but I’m pretty sure they have a sign language book here we can borrow! San taught me how to write and read, y’know. Maybe we can find a book on how to find your memories too! Oh- wait.. I forgot, sorry. You can’t hear me,” You attempted to use hand signals to display your words, but Wooyoung only chuckled at your failed attempt. You swiftly pulled out your tattered sketchbook, and after a few messy, stick figure drawings, he nodded in acknowledgment. You were met with the sight of San helping his mother place a few books in the high shelves of the library, you bellowed out his name loudly, startling both him and his mother. The woman only giggled underneath her breath whilst her son was quick to shush you with a stern glare, “(Y/n)! You’re in a library!” His gaze suddenly drifted the boy behind you, who wore a similar outfit to your own, freezing immediately and grumbling lowly, “Why are you with one of the orphan boys? I thought you said they’re all gross?” His mother scolded him quietly for the choice of his words, and sent her a pout in return, “Stop embarrassing me in front of my friend!”

You quickly explained to both of them Wooyoung’s lack of memories and situation, and and how you insisted on learning sign language to communicate with him, not noticing San’s eyes narrowing in on the nervous lavender haired boy. San’s mother nodded, smiling and reaching over to ruffle your hair. You caught a glimpse of purple and blue marks underneath the sleeve of her shirt as she told you to wait while she searched for the books you needed. A faint speck of purple was also seen on San’s tummy as he reached up to gently push a book back in place.

“We’re not partners in crime anymore if you’re going to replace me,” San grumbled, fingers idly tracing the spines of the books to his right. “He’s not replacing you, dummy,” you cried defensively, tugging Wooyoung by the wrist and startling him, “He’s going to join us. We can even let him in on our secret.”

San’s eyes rounded comically, before they narrowed, finger jutting out in accusation, “You wouldn’t. We agreed it’ll just be us two taking over the world.” “But he probably wants to go on adventures too,” you offered, “Please? We’ll be like the three muskrats!”

“I’m not letting anyone join our pirate club, no,” he crossed his arms, voice firm and head tilting to the side in protest, “And it’s musketeers, not muskrats, you bum.”

San’s mother returned with a stack of books for you, explaining everything you needed to know. She tugged on your cheek, laughing brightly at the sound of your protest as you shyly swatted it away, “It’s very mature and thoughtful of you for doing this, (y/n). You can come here every day to practice with San. He’ll make time to learn with you.”

“Learn? I never agreed to have extra lessons!” It was later that week that the town of Aurora held a coming-of-age ceremony for the young prince on a Friday night. He was a few years older than you, and you’ve caught glimpses of him every so often when you hung out with San in town.

Wooyoung, San, and you dressed appropriately, with your town’s traditional garbs. Mrs. Choi, bless her soul, took the three of you shopping beforehand, explaining how today was a very important day for the town and the royal family. San appeared miffed at his slicked back hair, and Wooyoung appeared to enjoy to the texture of the garments as his hands wouldn’t stop rubbing the silky, colorful material, fingers tracing the numerous embroidered floral patterns on the cuffs of his sleeves.

Mrs. Choi left the three of you to walk about, only if you promised you wouldn’t get into trouble. With a bag of silver coins, you three tromped between the crowds, visiting different booths to ogle at the treats displayed. The town was illuminated with an array of colorful lights hung from building to building. Signs and images of the young prince were displayed on every wall, pole, and building. As you munched on your roasted corn, guards of the royal family barked at the crowd to make space for the carriages and other matching guards to pass through. San tugged your sleeve and pointed to the golden palanquin held by four, large guards, the maroon velvet curtains tied to the corners, exposing the young boy sitting peacefully inside. He smiled at the crowd, turning left and right to wave as the guards marched in between the two parallel lines of people.

Whilst San was attempting to remember the hand signs to explain to Wooyoung was happening, you squinted, standing up on your tip-toes to have a better look at the prince. You clambered up on a wooden box, smiling in satisfaction at the better view, before peeking down at the two boys, “Why is the prince wearing such an ugly coat? It looks weird.”

“Watch your mouth, kid.” “That coat is the skin of a siren. It is a symbol of honor and bravery, brat.”

San paled at the harsh words, glancing nervously at the glares of the nearby townspeople, before swatting at your calf with a harsh whisper, “Moron, you can’t say things like that about the royals in public! That coat is tradition for the royal family!” Rolling your eyes at his exasperated tone, you offered a hand to Wooyoung, motioning him to stand with you to get a better view of the all the action. San attempted to follow suit, huffing in anger when he found no space for him to stand. Reaching for the pole beside him, he swiftly shimmied himself up, silently thanking the swordsmanship classes he was forced to partake in.

The prince’s eyes examined almost every face in the crowd. He met yours, and despite hating his attire, you couldn’t help but blush at the piercing gaze. You could’ve sworn his eyes widened at the boy beside you, but you didn’t have time to ponder as Wooyoung signed for you that he was hungry. You paused, eyes squinting in thought, before recognition flashed in your mind.

You nodded, pointing to his belly, to which he nodded in agreement. You dragged a reluctant San and a happy Wooyoung through the crowd, unaware of a pair of eyes lingering on your three forms.

Two months later, San began finally warming up to Wooyoung, much to your pleasure. To finally welcome the newest addition to your ‘Pirate Adventure Club’, he presented three twine bracelets, all with one cowrie shell intertwined in the middle,”Pirates give these to their friends, so they’ll never be apart no matter what.” “I don’t remember that in the pirate guidebook,” you mumbled, blinking at the boy.

“I made it up,” he grumbled bashfully, helping Wooyoung tie the twine on his wrist, “Don’t tell Wooyoung I said that, or else he won’t think I’m cool anymore.”

At fifteen years of age, both San and yourself became proficient at sign language, so much so that sometimes you would often find yourself teasing him with foul signs rather than doing so verbally. He would shove you away, red ears and furrowed brows as Wooyoung laughed beside him, “Stop polluting Wooyoung’s head with that nonsense!”

The three of you became infamous in town. The Troublesome Trio.

When San first informed you about the given title, you cackled, asking who in their right mind came up with that ridiculous name. He shrugged as the three of you walked within the town’s square, Wooyoung quietly observing the pigeons huddled near the center fountain, “You're the one who always picks fights, and Wooyoung and I have to always save your ass, so maybe that’s why.”

San insisted on paying a visit to one of the small antique shops in town, promising to find rare trinkets owned by pirates that washed up on Aurora’s shores. The town was still bustling even in the evening, young kids chasing each other around the neighborhood alleys, vendors charming passersby with their pristinely washed produce, mountains of different colored spices, dry fruits and nuts. Other merchants were determined to attract arrays of customers by displaying the colorful, locally caught fish, eel, and crustaceans on beds of ice. Cats sat idle in every corner, their big eyes fixated on the fresh fish.

Dry herbs hung from many of the tea shops, and vibrant fabrics blew gently with the soft breeze from the textile shops. A young man carried around baskets of fresh bottled milk, whilst another prepared slabs of butter and goat cheese for the market-goers, charming the people past with his smiles and beautiful notes, the seagulls crying overhead joining in the melody.

“Hey, guys. Look! Isn’t that Pipsqueak and Stupid?”

You furrowed your brows, lips pursing in an attempt to bottle your anger. You knew that obnoxious voice anywhere, and it was a surprise that a boy with a disgusting attitude like him found a home with a willing family. You hoped it was the last you would see him three years ago, but there he was, sitting on a barrel, legs spread and a cocky smirk on his face as he pointed to you, along with two others you recognized from the orphanage. You can tell from the way San’s shoulders stiffened that he intact did hear, eyes still glued ahead of him as he led the way to the merchant’s shop. “Hey! Is your boyfriend still too stupid to attend school?” Sometimes, you were grateful that Wooyoung was deaf, because you knew words like that would crush him. Despite lacking the sense of hearing, he picked up on skills much faster than San and yourself combined. San’s mother helped you learn math, and you quickly learned to hate it. Wooyoung, however excelled at such a pace that it left even San’s mother surprised. San also taught him techniques he learned during his swordsmanship classes, and now, not only were the two taller than you, but broader as well.

“I’m talking to you! Don’t ignore me!” A rock pelted against Wooyoung’s neck, startling him. San’s jaw dropped, his eyes widening in shock. Your eyes burned with disbelief at the sight of the smirking boy, who proudly adjusted his school uniform’s tie, silently bragging about how privileged he became after being adopted by one of the wealthier families in town.

Your hands grasped one of the thin wooden sticks of the fruit stalls beside you, the owner barking at you in protest, stuck behind the stand dealing with a few confused customers. San’s hands flew to grasp your elbow, a concerned Wooyoung gazing at you from behind him in confusion, “(Y/n)! Don't! He’s not worth it!” he insisted.

“Let me,” you spat, tugging your arm away and stomping towards the taller male, “I’ll stake him like the squealing pig he is.”

The three boys hunched over in laughter at your empty threat, nudging each other and surrounding you threateningly. Minjae threw his backpack to the side, hands reaching up to crack his knuckles, “I don’t hit kids, but since all you are is an angry demon no one wants, I don’t think anyone will mind me giving you a bruise or two. Maybe I should knock Stupid’s head too. He’ll probably start hearing afterwards, yeah?”

San protested, yelling out your name and sprinting to defend you, but before he was halfway across the cobblestone path, you threw the wooden stake aside, relying on your hands to pulverize the taller male in front of you. He tugged at your hair as you tackled him down, hands tugging at his tie, and aiming a punch at his nose, the sound of gravel crunching beneath your wrestling forms. The two of you rolled repeatedly on the cobblestones, feet kicking and fists flying, “You piece of shit, how dare you say those things about Wooyoung! I’ll rip out your tongue and feed it to the seagulls!”

Vendors and customers paused to watch the squabble, kids pointing and ushering their parents to see the commotion. You shoved Minjae onto one of the glass doors of a shop, the raised threshold clipping his ankle, leading to fall backwards into the glass. He growled, head snapping up to meet the eyes of his two friends, “Stop staring and help me out, cowards!”

Their faces grew pale at the sight behind the cracked glass doors, and after sharing a look, they nodded and hastily retreated. A look of disbelief washed over Minjae’s face, and your snicker only boiled his anger even further. With a growl, he tackled you down harshly onto the floor, your eyes widening at the sudden lunge. You didn’t even care at the taste of blood on your busted lip as you struck him in between the legs, eyes furious as you shoved him off, hands reaching up to wipe at your mouth,“Can’t handle a pipsqueak by yoursel—”

“What’s going on here?” Your eyes flickered to well polished shoes behind Minjae’s figure, traveling up to meet the eyes of the prince, crown shining in display, golden coat and pristine white leather sparkling underneath the golden hours of the evening. His face grew even more handsome since the last you’ve seen him, jaw becoming sharper, and eyes more mature. Behind him stood a taller male, hair as striking and vibrant as the crushed geranium flowers Mrs. Choi uses as rouge, “The Commander won’t be happy to hear about this, will he, Minjae?”

Minjae’s eyes widened in recognition, scrambling up to grab at his fallen backpack, his form tripping as he scurried off in fear. You stared at the gloved hand offered to you, and you gladly accepted it, the older male pulling you up onto your feet, “Ah, aren’t you that trio..”

His eyes trailed from your small stature to San and Wooyoung, his brown eyes lingering on the latter a bit longer. You dusted your attire, snorting at the sight of your panic stricken friends, “Yep. Just getting rid of rats on your streets, Hongjoong,” while not personally knowing the member of the royal family, you found comfort in the fact he wasn’t that much older than you and your friends. Surely, he’s just like other kids beneath the silk, leather, golden garments and dazzling jewelry.

The red-haired bodyguard, who didn’t seem that much older than you and your friends, glowered with piercing eyes at your smaller frame, disbelief clouding his eyes at the insolent behavior.

San slapped his forehead, exasperation lacing his voice as he shouted in your ear, “He’s royalty! You can’t just call Prince Hongjoong by his name, (y/n)-”

Hongjoong lifted a palm, shaking his head, a gentle smile gracing his features, “That is quite alright. I don’t mind. Mingi here calls me Hongjoong, as well. It makes me feel.. ah, young, perhaps? Right, Mingi?” he swiveled his head slightly to eye the stoic guard.

“You’re not even that old, though,” you began, earning you a glare from both San and the prince’s bodyguard at your informal tone. Wooyoung awkwardly held onto your fallen hat, eyes trained on the prince’s mouth in order to attempt to read his lips.

“Ah, yes. You are correct,” Hongjoong simpered, white hair delicately styled and falling into his eyes as he spoke, “but when you have princely duties, it makes you forget that you are still so young.”

There was a hint of sorrow in his voice that you detected, one so subtle and faint like the salty smell of the ocean encasing your town. The smile he wore didn’t exactly reach his eyes, his lips stretching too wide for it to be out of genuine content. Your bloody lips parted, eyes wide as you spoke, softly this time, “You’re still a kid before you’re a prince. You should live a little and have fun every once in a while.”

He offered you a white handkerchief at the glimpse of blood dribbling down your chin, chuckling at the sight of your stunned and flushed expression at the sweet gesture, “You have a point, but maybe I will attempt something other than fighting.. rats in the street.”

His smile sent your face and neck flushing in embarrassment, and you were quick to wave him goodbye as he was pulled away by a few of his guards. Watching the carriage disappear, you failed to notice San glowering at you beside you as you ogled at the disappearing horses, “(Y/n), you can’t just keep picking fights like that. Must you always seek trouble?”

“He asked for it.”

‘(Y/n) is a bad influence. Don’t get any ideas, please,’ He signed to an amused looking Wooyoung.

‘Don’t worry, I won’t.

Your brows furrowed, watching the two exchange words silently, your arms crossing in annoyance.

‘Assholes.’

“(Y/n)!”

— At seventeen, the three of you came to conclusion just how cruel and dangerous the beings that lurked in the sea were. San had a rough night with his father again, and with his mother’s insistence, he joined you both to the beach to clear his mind of the suffocating negativity that filled his household.

A large, canvas umbrella shielded the three of you from the blazing sun. Even from here, the sound of the town’s clock tower chiming, signaling noon, can be heard. San’s head rested on your lap, his straw hat covering his face as he dozed off to your fingers gently running through his dark locks. He was exhausted after hours of swimming and playing volleyball with other kids your age. Sand coated the skin between his toes and a small baby seagull occasionally circled around his legs, curiously eyeing the bag of chips you were sharing with Wooyoung.

The other male sat to your right, attempting to sketch the shore and moss covered rocks that broke the waves’ paths. He absentmindedly sipped on a bottle of juice, brows furrowed in determined concentration, his back littered with specks of sand from being buried up to his neck by San.

Peering up from his half completed sketch, his eyes were drawn onto the tiny boats and hardy people paddle boarding yards away from shore, despite the occasional gusts of wind. The waves crashed loudly into the clusters of rocks, foam spraying high in the air with every roar of water. The blue waters of the ocean were so clear that often times children would run around chasing the languid fish that found themselves swimming past their feet near the shore. Pebbles and other tiny marine life can be spotted on the sandy bed, the webs of sunlight dancing on the surface.

A sudden flash of a purple fin stopped him in his tracks, his eyes squinting to make out the form. Another turquoise tail fin breeched the surface, but just as quickly dove back into the water. The two paddle boarders paused, glancing curiously at the two heads that rose from the water.

Wooyoung watched in confusion as the men dropped their paddles, jaws slackening and frames growing stiff, as if in a deep trance. It happened too fast for his mind to register clearly, but one second the men are standing on their boards, and the next they’re both diving in hastily. His eyes rounded, fingers losing their grip on his bottle, the pomegranate juice spilling onto his sketch, startling you. Before you asked, your head snapped to the direction of his gaze, but you wish you hadn’t.

“Is that a siren?” you heard out in the distance.

A blonde haired creature’s mouth suddenly clamped down onto the screaming man’s neck, angular teeth piercing the skin and severing veins and muscle as he threw his head back roughly, red flesh intact in his mouth. Red liquid glugs from the victim’s lips and the severed carotid, pumping red into the ocean.

The screams were so shrill you swore they could curdle blood.

Claws pierce the man’s eye-sockets rupturing the globes with a sickening pop, the left eye dangling only by the stubborn, red optical nerve, leaving behind a bloody and empty pit. The siren’s unforgiving lashes met the victim’s face, sharp and jagged nails tearing the man’s visage and shredding his jaw.

Moments later, the creature dives into the water, turquoise tail flashing just before its disappearance. The corpse is suddenly tugged down with such intensity that the red seawater swashes roughly with a loud plop, sea foam being the only indication of movement. Feet away, his friend is met with the same fate.

The tails breached the surface near a sailboat, the people in it suddenly halting their movements while listening to the sirens’ voices. Wooyoung didn’t need to hear the screams of the people swimming nearby. The wave of fear washing over everyone present at the beach was enough indication.

He gaped in horror, his eyes watching as the beach goers pulled frightened children out of the water, others frantically grabbing their belongings and rushing in hoards for safety, clouds of sand left in their wake. Sandpipers and seagulls flew amongst the crazed crowd, disturbed at the sudden chaos around them.

San suddenly jerked awake at the sound of a loud siren ringing from one of the pop shacks at the beach. He sat up in surprise, hat falling into his lap, and hand clutching his chest in surprise.

“What happened!?”

That night, the King sent guards around town to announce the banishment of swimming and other ocean sports, threatening anyone who broke the law to be executed by enforced drowning. A team was sent to the beach to pick up the torn flesh and limbs of the victims that washed up on shore. It was a horrid sight, the stench of death prominent and wafting through even the smallest crevice of the town.

The three of you paid a visit to the vigil honoring the five people killed that day, the images of the brutal deaths haunting both Wooyoung and yourself in your sleep. The two of you joined each other on the lower bunk, arms coiled around each other for a source of comfort no one else could provide you with. The once vibrant atmosphere of the bustling town was replaced with an eerily quiet one- one that was stained with an ugly shade of fear and melancholy. — You were eighteen years of age when were moved out from the orphanage to a facility that housed other orphans, agreeing to partake in labor to help provide for both yourself and the establishment. Wooyoung soon joined you, and as much as you wanted for him to be with a family of his own, you were still happy he stuck around with you. He felt like family.

The two of you landed jobs aiding fishermen catch and deliver the locally caught fish to merchants and markets. You rolled the sleeves of poofy tunic up, fastened the tied cloth around your waist and winced at the sudden gust of wind that blew your wide-brimmed hat off your head in an instant.

It was a typical day on the fishing trawler. You were miles away from the coast, Wooyoung and yourself aiding the fishermen haul fish into different compartments, picking out the other creatures that were caught along with the school of fish. A storm battered the ship, but not enough for the helmsman to steer the ship back to port, despite the crew’s growing concern.

Wooyoung grasped your elbow as you slipped onto the deck, waves crashing against the sides of the vessel. You thanked him with a nod of acknowledgment, hand shakily grasping the railing, brown boots sliding with every sway of the boat. He pointed to the hatch, hoping you’ll understand his implications without the use of hand signs. He was clearly fed up with the lack of concern from the fishermen, urging you with his eyes to crawl inside for safety.

You opened your mouth to word out a reply, when a sudden jerk to the left caused you both to lose your grip. Wooyoung’s hands stabilized himself against the deck, his face scrunched in pain at the impact of his fall, watching in horror as the vessel tilted dangerously, a wave impelling the sides and sweeping you away with it. His hand flew to grasp your foot, only managing to graze the bottom of your boot in the process.

He was quick on his feet to inform the closest person about you falling overboard. His hands desperately clutched the orange lifebuoy, throwing it to where he spotted your head bobbing within the harsh waves.

You met his gaze, hands reaching to grab the ring, when you felt a clawed hand grasp your ankle. In the time it took you to knit your brows in confusion at the sensation, you suddenly gasped in realization, earning you only a few more milliseconds of air before you were swiftly plunged down into the raging ocean. You were welcomed with the deafening roar of your heartbeat in your ears and the burning sensation in your sinuses. Beams of sunlight occasionally shined within the raging waters before they disappeared behind the dark plumes of clouds.

You hadn’t properly prepared to take a deep breath, your mouth parting open in shock at the sight of a beautiful, black haired man. Your stunned eyes were suddenly drawn to his puckering gills and outstretched smile, showcasing rows of sharp, pointed teeth. The purple fins on his neck and forearms shimmered with every flap and movement.

He appeared to laugh as he teasingly swam around your frame, circling and eyeing you like prey. The delighted smile on his visage stretched wide, resembling the evil creatures drawn in the folklore books you read as a child. His iridescent, violet tail and fins tickled the skin of your neck, and your lungs began burning with the lack of oxygen, the subtle sounds of waves crashing joining in with the loud drumming of your pulse.

“My, my,” he chuckled, dark hues locked on your panic stricken face, “I didn’t even have to sing to get you to come to me, little human.”

The two of you were suspended in a neutral state of buoyancy, clouds of marine life occasionally passing by. Your blood ran so cold that it felt more like being electrocuted than anything else. You had to get yourself out immediately, before the lack of oxygen kills you or before the siren rips you apart like ribbons.

One second he was eyeing you curiously, and the next you struggled to escape his hold, teeth snapping and threatening to bite your neck open, your frames swaying with the waves’ thrusts, even from below the surface. Your mind had no time to keep up with your body’s involuntary actions, your fingers digging harshly into the gaps of his gills and clawing desperately in an attempt to escape.

Your movements weren’t as clean and swift as they would’ve been on land, but your frenzied mind paid no thought. He winced at the onslaught of scratches, pulling away to clutch at his neck in pain, giving you the briefest amount of time to swim up, your arms securely wrapping around the ring and shouting up with a desperate cry. Waves rocked your frame, the water sloshing harshly around you, and hope slowly trickled in as you felt the line tug upwards to safety.

As soon as your legs surfaced the water, the same hand breached past the waves, long nails digging into the skin of your calf, before getting caught in the buckles of your brown boot, slipping it off with ease as the siren fell back into the water. Beady eyes glowered at you as you were hoisted up the ship.

Arms were wrapped around your frame as soon as you landed in a wet, bloody heap on deck, Wooyoung’s concerned face invading your vision. His eyes flew from your leg to your bleeding, bitten hand, and finally your face. From the raindrops pattering his skin you couldn’t tell if he was crying or not. He held you so tightly against his frame, fingers coiling into your wet locks, his chest heaving heavily in panic. Your widened eyes could only stare straight ahead, arms weakly tangling around his form.

Four years later and you were left with lumpy, jagged scars on your left leg and hand. There was no action taken against the fishermen that you worked for, though. You didn’t have the money or means to do anything, so Wooyoung and you decided it was best to change the tasks you were meant to complete. Delivering fish from the ports to the markets instead of helping the fishermen at sea was a much better and safer option.

The two of you fell into the same boring routine. You heard mockeries under people’s breaths regarding the two of you- how nobody wanted to adopt you due to your troublesome behavior, and Wooyoung due to the fact that he was deaf. You wanted to beat the nonsense out of the people who spoke ill of you, but you knew in doing so it would prove their point. Over the years, you have calmed down, though. Only slightly.

Grumbling to yourself, you trudged up the narrow cobblestone path, Wooyoung by your side. The two of you carried nets of freshly caught fish, ready to be displayed at the fish market. The streets were mostly empty, the orange rays of the sun filtering out the darkness as it ever so slowly broke past the horizon, golden beams shining onto the numerous white and seaglass-blue buildings. You passed the formal gardens, your eyes glued to the plumes of vibrant colors showcased behind the copper gates, wondering what it would feel like to have a picnic with your friends there. San will love it, his love for flowers inherited from his mother.

‘I’m going to smell like fish all day,’ You signed to Wooyoung, your posture and facial expression giving away your feelings even beforehand.

His biceps flexed as he adjusted the bags in his grip, unable to reply back as his hands were full. His sleeveless shirt displayed his toned, tanned arms, leather pants fitting quite nicely on his form. You knew he was teasing you as he took larger and quicker strides, leaving you behind. You waddled your way after him, your protests quite literally falling on deaf ears.

You traded the fish for a sachet of silver coins, making sure to count the amount before your departure from the seafood market. On your way back to the docks, you stopped to grab a loaf of freshly baked bread and tea, offering the taller male walking with you. Elderly women can be spotted hunching down to tend to their rice fields, wide brimmed hats shielding them from the rising sun.

Children began walking down the streets, dressed in the typical blue and white school uniform. You occasionally wished that Wooyoung and yourself grew up with those privileges- only worrying about upcoming tests and what meal you’ll devour after coming back from school. Despite the tiring labor, Wooyoung and yourself at least had each other’s company to enjoy, and you were grateful to have him by your side every second.

Overall, the waters were quite safe since that incident that occurred five years ago. The fishermen treated you both very well, always slapping at Wooyoung’s broadened shoulders and biceps playfully. They often teased you about being in a relationship, but quickly learned the sibling dynamic between the two of you. Wooyoung’s nose always scrunched in distaste at the memory.

It was noon and the two of you finally finished your daily fish delivery trips. You decided to pay San a visit at his family’s library, his nose immediately scrunching up while he greeted you at the front desk.

‘Would it kill you two to go shower before you visit?‘ he signed in annoyance, fingers then clamping around his mouth and nose.

You attempted to hug him, and he hastily backed away in his seat, a book smacking you in the arm in retaliation, a strangled sound emitting from the back of his throat, “Stop, (y/n)!”

“But I missed you, Sannie,” you frowned, pulling Wooyoung forward by the elbow, ‘Wooyoung wants a hug too.’

‘You won’t die if I don’t hug you,’ San shook his head, propping the frames on his nose a bit higher, giving you two a pointed look.

‘Yes we will,’ Wooyoung protested, a pout finding itself onto his features, earning him a glare from San as you cackled,’Are you ready for the competition later?’

‘More than ever. Too bad the brat can’t attend,’ Wooyoung snorted at the response, hastily covering his mouth as you gave him a swift, sharp look. It was no surprise that Wooyoung used his hard earned silver coins to enlist in San’s swordsmanship school, much to the other’s delight. Tonight was the end of the season’s competition, but to your dismay, you had errands to complete before the prince’s coronation tomorrow.

San was peeved at the idea of you not attending, but Wooyoung clearly saw the irritation being directed at the fact that you couldn’t attend because of the prince and not due to the errands you were forced to complete. He rolled his eyes whilst gazing at your mouths moving rapidly in a display of ongoing bickering. The two of you were so oblivious to each other, Wooyoung found it gross. Endearing, but gross.

Later that night, Wooyoung returned home to the housing facility, his nose scrunching up in delight as he proudly displayed his second place trophy in the air. Throwing your arms around his neck and shaking his frame excitedly, you laughed as he stumbled back from the sudden attack.

‘I’m so, so proud of you!’

A smile found itself resting on his features as he tugged you close to return the gesture.

He was beyond grateful to have someone that felt like family.

Wooyoung rubbed the small amount of rose water in his hands and brushed his fingers through your hair, giving it a gentle tussle. He adjusted the clips holding your hair in place, before eyeing your reflection in the mirror, throwing a thumbs up and proceeding to pinch your cheeks. Swatting his hands away in protest, you turned to examine yourself at a different angle,’Do you think purple suits me?’

‘Of course. Every color suits you.’

‘But do you think I look good in purple? Should I wear the blue one instead?’

‘I’m pretty sure San will love it. Two of his favorite-’

You furiously signed that you did not even bring San’s name into the conversation, and Wooyoung snickered at your flustered reaction. You hated how well he read you- how easily he read every feeling you attempted to bury and conceal.

And you hated the fact that you had no confidence to confess your feelings in the first place.

The night of Prince Hongjoong’s coronation was much like the night of his coming-of-age celebration, only now Wooyoung and you were older— and being older meant partying harder.

Wooyoung watched you stumble into a pole, snickering and tugging you towards himself to stabilize your tipsy form. San shook his head as he walked back towards you with three sticks of fried pastry, his lips parting to scold you, “You're lightweight! You shouldn’t have drank so much, (y/n).”

Wooyoung has spent a good amount of time with the both of you, and after years of friendship, he often picked up on reading your lips as you two argued. He rubbed your shoulders in silent understanding, knowing fully well you downed that liquor in hopes of gaining confidence to actually look San in the eye and not have to deal with flushed ears and bickering to conceal your feelings. San in traditional garments was your utter weakness.

It had the opposite effect, really. You complained about his voice being too loud, and how the lights were too bright around you— how the smells of the street food were too strong. Wooyoung offered you a bottle of water, forcing you to down it all in one go in order to clear your mind a bit. He gave San a knowing smile as he watched from the sidelines, adam’s apple bobbing nervously at the sight of streaks of water cascading down from the corners of your lips and onto your neck, your clavicles glistening underneath all of the oil lamps illuminating the streets. Once catching the lavender haired male’s smirking gaze, the other silently scrunched his face in embarrassment, swiftly turning away to eye the closest confectionery shop.

Underneath the star-filled sky, the townspeople chatted amongst each other, many of them drunk and attempting to form dance circles in the town square. Many musicians filled the streets, the sweet and joyous melodies dancing in between every corner and alley of Aurora. A few women danced with delicate and sensual sways of their hips to the beats of darbuka drums and oud notes, hungry eyes watching their every move. The scent of tobacco and alcohol filled the air. An hour later, you felt better, mind clearing slightly.

The smell of fresh pastries and milk custards wafted through the air, as you shared a large piece of cinnamon cake between the other two boys. Wooyoung stood up, informing you that he needed to buy water and possibly use the restroom.

It was only when you were left alone with San, you suddenly felt like a small and helpless bug without Wooyoung’s presence and emotional support. You can face San on normal days, but when he’s dressed like this, hair slicked back, and the back of his ears and wrists shining with sandalwood oil-based perfume, your confidence crumbled into a mere speck of dust.

“You look pretty,” he started, voice quiet as his kohl lined eyes fixate on the cake between the two of you, “Purple suits you, you know?”

You scrambled to find a coherent reply, mind too frazzled at the sudden bold comment from the man across from you,. You needed to be casual, natural- needed to say something that won’t scare him off, or make you sound too desperate.

“You look hot when you spar.”

His eyes widened in surprise at your confession, jaw dropping in disbelief, cinnamon frosting and cake crumbs coating his cupid’s bow, and you suddenly wished you drank more of that nasty rum earlier.

Half an hour passed as the two of you awkwardly exchanged hints and implications of your feelings, when suddenly your brows furrowed, your frame rising up from your seat at the wooden table, “Okay, now I know for a fact that he’s lost. It’s been too long-”

“But he knows his way through town, (y/n). Besides, this is his favorite bakery— no way he’ll get lost,” San reassured, finger flicking the strand of hair that fell into his gaze.

“I don’t know,” you sighed, hand running through your hair as you took a few steps away from the table, calling out back to him, “You stay here in case he comes back. I’ll go look for him, okay?”

After a nod of approval, you sauntered off among the sea of crowds searching for a mop of purple hair. You grew tired after half an hour of searching, even returning back to San in hopes that Wooyoung found his way back. When he saw dread fill your eyes at absence of the male, he stood up, cupping your your panic stricken face and telling you to calm down.

“You check the south, and I’ll check north, got it? We’ll meet at the same spot after half an hour,” he squeezed your shoulder and offered a small smile, “He’ll be okay. He’s Warrior Wooyoung after all. I trained him well.”

Fifteen minutes ticked by and you attempted to push down the heavy and negative thoughts invading your mind. This was not like back in the orphanage. Wooyoung was not the little, scared, helpless little boy. He was strong, brave, and—

You walked straight into a firm chest, hands reaching up to stabilize you as you stumbled back on your feet, head snapping up to apologize, “Ah, Pipsqueak. You’ve grown quite nicely since the last time I’ve seen you.”

Your eyes widened at the familiar voice, you hand immediately reaching up to swat at his arms, only for him to pull back defensively. Oh, how you hated the sight of his face and the sound of his voice. The gods must have loved Wooyoung for not granting him the sense of hearing, because you knew Minjae’s voice was disgusting enough to make anyone’s ear’s bleed.

“Whoa- whoa! So hot-headed, still?” He laughed, eyes tracing every curve of your frame as he took a few steps back,”I see you’ve only psychically changed. But here,” he tapped his temple, broad shoulders on full display as he crossed arms,”You're still the same kid who was all bark and no bite.”

“I punched you, and you cried like a baby in front of the entire orphanage,” you stated matter-of-factly.

The amusement in his eyes drifted away like the clouds blanketing the bright, full moon. You hated to admit it, but now that he was much, much taller than you, broader than you, and clearly stronger than you, it made you just a tiny bit anxious. You had no doubt that he’ll be able to manhandle you with just one hand, easily taking you down. A sneer met his features, “Ah, the day your idiot of a boyfriend was introduced to us, right? I heard you were also locked in the director’s closet as punishment.”

“Say that again, I dare you,” you spat back, mirroring his own sneer. He shrugged his shoulders, leaning back slightly against the wall beside him, as a snort of amusement escapes his throat, “Why? Don’t like when I talk about him? Can’t believe Stupid grew up to beat me in second place,” he paused, as if contemplating his next words carefully, “It’ll be the last time, though. I can guarantee you that, love.”

Silence struck between the two of you.

You stared at his cocky smirk, his last words reverberating in your mind. His smile only broadened at the sight of horror and realization washing over your features. Suddenly, he found himself jerked down by the collar of his traditional garb, your hands itching to clobber that smile off his chiseled visage, “What did you do to him! Where is he!?”

He laughed at your attempt to intimidate him, gently prying your fists off of him as he patted the crown of your head in mock affection, “Don’t know. Maybe he’s partying, maybe he’s with San, or maybe..” he straightened his back, lips pursing whilst tapping his temple in thought, “..he’s being eaten alive by the sirens. Your guess, Sweetheart.”

You didn’t even realize you were already tripping on your feet to reach the docks in the southern part of town, Minjae’s amused laughter ringing behind you, your heart hammering in your chest as adrenaline surged through your veins. You pushed past drunkards, guards, adults, and hell- even children without a second glance or care in the world. There was no time to find San, the tears in your eyes flying into the air like tiny pearls as you flung yourself corner after corner between the blue and white buildings in a rush to reach the shore.

You will never forgive yourself if you didn’t find him alive. — Wooyoung was angered at his predicament. He should have known it was a trap, but he had a big heart, deciding to push his suspicions away when a lady asked him for help regarding her puppy at the beach. Well, at least that’s what he assumed when she pulled out a picture of a dog, pointing in the general direction of the harbor.

As soon as his suspicions surfaced, it was too late. She turned around so quickly, he had no time to react when she swung her heavy, straw bag onto his head, stumbling back and shielding his face. He was then ambushed by a group of men, who then proceeded to not only tie his wrists and ankles together, but also shove him in one of the smaller docked boats, working quickly to untie the thick ropes attaching it to the dock, allowing it to drift off yards away into the dark sea.

Even during his delirious state, he didn’t fail to recognize one face in particular- the same face who glowered at him while he received the second place trophy yesterday night. Even with third place, Minjae still wasn’t satisfied, not when the kid he loved to pick on beat him at his own game, with much less training and practice. His ego was as easy to bruise as a banana.

With no paddle or oar, Wooyoung’s attempts to return back to shore with his bound hands were fruitless. As the boat drifted off even further, he flung his hands to grasp the edge of the jagged rocks, finger scraping against the barnacles and limpets that cracked underneath his steady grip. The blankets of green algae coating the rock causes his fingers to slip and slide, sharp points of the rocks and tiny mussels no help in aiding him whatsoever.

Panic and dread settled in his system, much to his displeasure. San taught him that a clear mind will do wonders when one in is in trouble, however looking at his situation now, it’s almost inevitable what will happen to him. He can barely make out the dock now, the glow of the town still visible from where he grasped onto the rocks for dear life, feet still bound in the boat. It was dark outside, people were busy with the coronation, and he couldn’t hear anything or anyone.

The waves were strong and yet gentle at this distance, the boat rocking noisily against the large stones. The moon’s reflection in the water rippled, and a mop of blonde hair surfaced, startling Wooyoung suddenly. The being’s lips moved slowly, as if he were chanting calmly, eyes holding a mischievous fire within them. The man’s skin had an iridescent glow to it underneath the moonlight, specks of turquoise lining the sides of his neck and cheekbones.

“Which human is stupid enough to take a swim at night during a full moon, hm?”

Pectoral fins on his neck flapped gently in the water, gill cavities visible from where Wooyoung stood. The being’s hair was reminiscent of the golden threads of the royal family garbs, and Wooyoung could only gape in sheer shock at the creature’s beauty. When he made no move to submerge himself in the water, the creature circled around the boat, brows furrowing in confusion. His lips moved rapidly now, shaping words Wooyoung had a difficult time deciphering, especially with such dim lighting.

From this distance, Wooyoung made out a large turquoise tail, which glimmered within the moonlight right below the surface of the water, and only then did he realize that the creature was the same one in the books he’s read about in San’s library as a child. However, this time, you weren’t there to fight the imaginary creatures on his behalf, and he was alone, stuck at sea along with said creature.The drawings did little to no justice in capturing the painful beauty of the beasts, though.

The siren’s lips parted, teeth so sharp like the daggers he trained with, anger now evident in his eyes as he swam much too close to Wooyoung’s comfort. “Why are you not abandoning your boat to come to me, you filthy human?” the creature sneered, jagged claws scraping at the edge of Wooyoung’s boat.

Golden eyes widened as Wooyoung swatted the creature’s hands away in retaliation. The siren reeled back in surprise, shock enveloping his features as the human glowered down at him. Bounded hands or not, Wooyoung will not go down without a fight. If you were here, you would be proud, he thinks.

When the creature attempts to grasp the edge of the boat once more, tilting it down to capsize it, Wooyoung’s hands reach out to scrape long stripes onto the being’s arms, his scaly, slippery flesh cool to the touch. He made no attempt to smirk cockily at the shocked creature as it pulled back with a hiss. It still had the upper hand in this situation. Warily, the golden haired being swayed gently along with the waves, his eyes searching for an answer in the boy’s face. Turning hastily to eye the structure of the rock, Wooyoung contemplated trying to climb onto the high surface for safety despite his restraints. Maybe the morning sailors and fishermen will find him in the early hours of the morning.

“Ah, you’re quite boring,” he drawled in disgust, “I like them when they scream and cry.”

This is definitely a crazy one. Maybe Seonghwa will enjoy tearing him open instead.

Wooyoung startled at the noise that invaded his mind, frantically looking around for the source, only for his eyes to lock onto the back of the being’s head. Did he just hear? That was a voice, right?

‘Are you talking about me?’

The creature was now far enough for the reflection of the moon to ripple between the two.

‘Hey! Was that you speaking? How can I hear you?’

Wooyoung was certainly not expecting shock to wash over the being’s features, his lips parting in a silent gasp as he turned his head to gaze back at him over his scaly shoulder, golden orbs widening. Just who was this human?

‘How are you communicating with me telepathically? This is not possible,’ the creature made no move to swim closer, uncertainty in its eyes,’What kind of human are you, boy?’

Wooyoung didn’t know how to respond, the confusion in his eyes mirroring the creature’s,’I don’t know,’ his hands gripped the boulders roughly as a harsh wave rocked the boat. With desperate eyes, he pleaded to the creature,’Please help me reach back to shore.’

Wooyoung didn’t need to hear to know how amused the creature was at his words. Throwing his head back with laughter, golden strands glimmering with every movement,’A siren? Helping a human?’ he swam slowly to the purple haired male, golden orbs narrowing into a threatening glare as he spat his next words harshly,’I don’t help your kind. I find it much more amusing to rip you measly humans open by your throats, watching your life flash before your eyes as you choke on your blood, before you sink to the pits of the ocean where your pathetic wastes of bodies are gnawed on by sea creatures. You should’ve listened to the warnings in your bedtime stori-’

“Wooyoung!”

The motion of the siren’s head snapping to the side bought Wooyoung’s attention up to that direction, eyes squinting to make out a figure struggling to make it past the onset of waves in a small coracle. Relief washed over him, his eyes widened in recognition, unable to wave his bound hands in fear of losing his grip of the rocks.

“Oh, thank the heavens you’re—”

Knowing fully well he couldn’t hear you, you couldn’t help but shout in relief at the mere sight of his intact body. It was only when you noticed the head of blonde hair in the water that the oar nearly slipped out of your hands. In a desperate attempt to further the distance between Wooyoung and that damned siren, you were quick to whip your shoes in its direction, aiming for the creature’s head.

“Get away from him!”

Wooyoung’s eyes widened at your actions, shaking his head frantically to get your attention,’Stop, you idiot!’ His face said it all, but you were too engrossed in yelling profanities at the creature, whose eyes flickered from the floating shoes and back to your heated face. When the siren’s lips curled back, sharp teeth glimmering in the moonlight to make his way to end your life, Wooyoung rushed to stop him, knowing fully well what will conclude if he didn’t,‘Stop! No! Don’t hurt, (y/n)! Please.’

‘One strange human after another. Give me one reason I shouldn’t snap this human roach’s neck this instant,’ the creature hissed underneath his breath, molten gold orbs furiously trained on your approaching figure. Wooyoung’s eyes frantically flickered back and forth from your outraged form and back to the crouching siren, whose face sunk in the water until he was eye level with the surface,’Well?’

‘(Y/n).. (y/n) is my lover?,’ Wooyoung threw in a white lie, wincing at the irrational thoughts he shared with the creature. Whether or not the creature knew he was lying, he hoped that was enough to deter him, even slightly. Golden eyes peered at him in faint curiosity, a scoff escaping the creature’s lips in bubbles, before he dipped himself fully underneath the water’s surface, swimming his way in your direction, ignoring the frantic thoughts of the purple haired male drilling in his mind.

You glared down at the creature underneath the water, whose amused eyes studied your seething form. You aimed the oar, plunging it down with a loud plop of the water. A laugh rang out behind you, and you found yourself suddenly tilting face first into the water. Your frantic swimming came to a halt when the creature circled around you beneath the surface, long turquoise tail curling around your frame in amusement. Beams of moonlight illuminated his iridescent face, which was mere inches away from your own, his lips stretching wide to reveal two rows of sharp, jagged teeth, golden strands dancing and framing his face beautifully.

You refused to allow this fish to scare you– not like last time. It was that sudden impulse that prompted you to angrily tug at the fins on his neck, before you gripped his long, wavy locks back, fingers roughly digging into the gaps of his gills.

If you had air, you would’ve laughed at the stupefied expression on his face, but before you made another move, his tail smacked you upside the head, taking you by surprise. He wriggled away from your grasp, swimming away and allowing the darkness of the ocean to engulf his figure.

Breaking the surface of the ocean, you spotted a panic stricken Wooyoung, whose shoulders sagged in relief at the sight of your smiling face. You ignored the glare he sent you as you swam a few feet to retrieve the floating oar, before making your way over to his boat, struggling to climb in. You clung onto his dry form, hands cupping his face to examine it and his neck, looking for any sign of harm.

He struggled to sign words with his bound hands, his chin jutting in the general direction of the shore, silently asking you to start paddling. Golden hair and eyes broke the surface of the water yards behind the boat, watching you struggle to keep the boat steady and straight. ‘Visit me again, Human. You’ve intrigued me.’ Wooyoung’s head snapped back at the sound, but all he could make out was a ripple of the water. You found yourself hunched down, a jagged stone in hand as you attempted to slice through the hemp twine encasing Wooyoung’s limbs. The two of you walked to the nearby promenade, the low lighting of the lampposts around you not aiding your sight in the slightest. With the adrenaline now fading away, the reality of what just occurred finally began to sink in your frazzled mind. Your hands trembled as you sliced through, tears dropping in pearls onto the pavement. You were so, so close to losing the only person you called family. Was this the feeling of what having a family meant? The impending doom one feels when their loved one is in danger? You hated it. You loved Wooyoung, but you hated this foreign feeling. It was ugly and it tore you down from the inside out, disrupting your breathing pattern and train of thought. Off to the side, the gentle waters rocked the small dinghies and larger day boats nestled on the side of the promenade. The moon’s reflection was stunning against the calmer waters of this side of town. “Where have you been!?” San’s frantic cry snapped your attention from cutting the bonds around Wooyoung’s arms, and up to the confused, ebony haired male who hunched forward, clutching the wall to steady his breathing,”I checked the entire south shore! Minjae said Wooyoung-” “You best believe I’ll have him expelled from your school after the stunt he pulled,” you growled, finally tugging the last of the thick twine from the purple haired boy’s limbs, your hands still trembling with anger, before you hurled the stone against one of the smaller boats, the water rippling as it dropped down, “I’ll— I’ll kill him. I swear I’ll snap his neck in half- as soon as I get my hands on him I-.. I will squeeze his throat until he’s as blue as the ocean..” Wooyoung’s hands fisted around your lithe fingers, his arms pulling you into his chest tightly as you desperately gripped the back of his shirt, too afraid to let him go. San’s expression fell at the sight, his hands reaching to rub the both of your backs. ‘Are you okay?’ San pulled the other into a hug, hand cradling the other’s head tenderly. Wooyoung pulled away to nod, a silent storm forming in his brown hues, which you two failed to see past the anger and relief that washed upon reuniting with your friend. Later on, San happily visited you to inform you of Minjae’s expulsion from the swordsmanship program, the school stripping away all of the past medals he obtained. He was happy to have him gone and have you not behind bars for attempted murder. He refused to let you know where Minjae lives. — Peeling his eyes open, Wooyoung found himself submerged within the dark depths of the ocean. No marine life swam by, and strong beams of sunlight danced beneath the surface of the water. He kicked his legs and arms in an attempt to swim up to the surface. Strangely enough, he hadn’t felt the need for air. A few seconds before he breached the surface, a kind face hovered above the water, the person’s visage distorted with the moving water. A hand plunged down the water hastily, the pads of two fingers grazing his forehead ever so gently, before he found himself being dragged down to the ocean’s dark trenches by a strong force, his arm instinctively flinging up to try and reach the outstretched hand. He felt a scream slip past his lips as a clawed hand pierced through the flesh of his neck, dragging upwards towards his chin, the blood beginning to waft into the water around him. The manic laughter emitted from the creature practically curdled his blood, and his vision was suddenly overtaken by a set of teeth so sharp they resembled daggers. The creature’s jaws snapped so tightly around the junction of his nec— Wooyoung’s frame shot up suddenly. His chest heaved with rapid, heavy breaths, heart practically convulsing in his ribcage. Swallowing thickly, his wide, paranoid eyes scanned his environment, shoulders relaxing subtly as he took in the sight of the messy living space he shared with you. Beams of sunlight flickered through the curtains, birds chirping happily in the early hours of the morning. He heard your faint breathing from the bottom bunk, and he fluttered his eyes shut in relief. Throwing himself back, he gazed up at the chipped, stained ceiling, face and arms glistening with a sheen of sweat. The constant nightmares still will not hinder his decision to meet with the siren. He wanted answers. He needed answers. A month passed since the incident and Prince Hongjoong’s coronation, and you grew increasingly worried about Wooyoung. He appeared to be in his own world when hauling the nets of fish every morning, his eyes trained onto the ocean the entire time. The cries of seagulls could be heard as they dipped and soared overhead near the docked fishing trawlers. Your brows knitted in confusion as his gaze never left the vast expanse of the gentle waters, despite the most clouding the air. Just what was he searching for? You’ll study him a bit more before confronting him- that sounded like a good enough course of action Wooyoung also spent a ridiculous amount of time in the town’s library while he wasn’t training with San. While he loved reading with you and San when he was younger ( San and you took turns wither narrating or animatedly sign the words for him for a better experience in storytelling), he never really went out of his way to read on his own accord. He had shook his head when you asked if anything was bothering him. Even San couldn’t get him to reveal the cause of his sudden curiosity of the mythical sea creatures. You decided not to pry too much, instead focusing on completing more tasks to get an extra heap of silver coins before San’s birthday, silently promising yourself to buy him that golden cutlass sword he set his eyes on months ago. When Wooyoung wasn’t in either the library, or training, he sauntered off without informing anyone. You were worried at the sudden change of behavior, but after speaking with San, you came to realization that Wooyoung was an adult now, and he didn’t need supervision or protection like he once did as a child. You still couldn’t shake that gnawing feeling out of the pit of your stomach. ‘Is everything okay with you?’ you asked one day, book in your lap forgotten as you stared at him from your seat on the lower bunk bed. The smell of salt and sea lingered in your small space from the opened window in the back. He lifted his umber hues for the briefest second to watch you repeat the gestures before nodding with a half-hearted smile, turning back to his book on the small table in the corner of your one-room living quarters. Miffed at his lack of honesty, you crawled out of the space, book tossed aside as you roughly dragged the chair back to plop across from him, eyes searching his face for answers,’Where have you been going off to?’ Quirking a brow at your pushy and intrusive choice of words, he held himself back from rolling his eyes,’It’s nothing important. Don’t worry about it.’ He returned his gaze back to the book, lavender locks falling into his eyes. You swiftly snatched the book away from him, eyes scanning the page quickly before he practically jumps onto you, face contorted into disbelief and anger, his expression clearly asking you if you had lost your mind,’Why are you suddenly so interested in sirens? Why do you disappear for hours on end almost every single day?’ ‘I told you it’s nothing important. Go to sleep,’ anger was clearly evident on his features and his demeanor. He plopped down back into his seat, book concealing half of his face as his eyes flickered to you in frustration. ‘You’re trying to find that siren, aren’t you?’ He stilled, mind reeling at the accusation, before he snapped the heavy book shut with a loud slam, ignoring your existence completely as he made his way over to the ladder to reach his top bunk. You grabbed him by the back of the shirt, turning him around to point a finger in his face, relying on him to read your lips, the anger in your system seemingly unbearable, “Am I right!?” ‘Stop treating me like I’m your son. Goodnight, (y/n).’ He left no room for arguments, eyes void of any warmth at your nosy questions. You watched him crawl into his covers, his back facing you. Scoffing to yourself, you reached down to snuff the oil lamps, the sudden darkness of the room concealing the hurt expression that painted your features. Wooyoung didn’t bother exchanging words with you the next day during your fish deliveries. You glowered at his retreating figure as he just waved a goodbye. You thought it was best to ignore the brat, and instead focus on the errands left on your plate. The tasks you completed were mostly deliveries of goods, and cleaning the docks and beaches of the litter and waste the townspeople left behind. You grimaced as you picked up what appeared to be the remnants of a torn loincloth and a shattered bottle of rum, throwing it in the plastic bag you carried in your gloved hands. Turning swiftly back to the pile you created up the slope of the rocky area of the beach, a flash of purple froze you in your tracks. You blinked, but nothing was there. Furrowing your brows, you decided to investigate, just to make sure the sun hadn’t baked your brain and burned your eyes. Placing the parchment bag down to steady it against a sturdy rock, you padded your way towards the sea cave that the villagers always warned kids not to venture off into. The water reached your ankles as you hesitantly stepped into the quiet cave, beams of sunlight guiding you through the tunnel of rocks. You grimaced at the feeling of algae and barnacle on the wall, feet stepping cautiously onto the wet boulders. You turned a corner, eyes immediately catching sight of the opening on the top of the cave, which filtered strong beams of rays into the shallow, turquoise and blue waters of the cave. Not quite paying close attention to your footing, your ankle caught onto a chunk of seaweed, toes stubbing against a jagged stone. You yelped loudly, your voice echoing in the cave as you crashed into the waist deep water. Before the thought of getting up even crossed your mind, your eyes widened at the sight of the familiar siren, who bristled in front of you, the long, protruding rays on his frame flaring out in anger, claws and jagged teeth ready to rip you apart if it wasn’t the blur of purple that hovered above you with arms spread out in defense. A whistling hiss emitted from the creature as he peered at you from over Wooyoung’s shoulders, face contorted into a glare, “Wooyoung!? You—...” the pain from your fall was now buried underneath the rising anger that bubbled from within you. Pointing an accusing finger at the creature, you glared back, “You! I knew it! You seduced him! You’re trying to kill him, aren’t you?!” “How disgusting that you think I’ll reduce myself to seduce a human being of all things. I would much rather kiss a squid. I want nothing to do with you filthy pests.” You smacked Wooyoung’s calf in confusion, angrily signing at the sight of his embarrassed expression,’What are you doing here with a siren!?’ ‘Why were you following me?’ ‘I wasn’t! I was running an errand when I saw you come here! He seduced you. He sang for you, and you-‘ your hands just could not keep up with your racing thoughts. You opted to spit out your words, mostly for the siren to hear,“I’ll slice him like a trout and sell his flesh in the market- now move, Wooyoung,” you proceeded to step around the taller male, your bare hands clawing at the air as he tugged you back by the waist, the siren staring at you with a dull expression. “Crazy human,” he simpered at the sight of your frustration, “Your boyfriend can’t even hear me sing.” You kicked at the water at the smug expression of the siren, Wooyoung’s jaw dropping in disbelief, @He’s not my boyfriend, you putrid fish! If I find out you’ve hurt him in any way-” With a wave of his tail, you found yourself drenched from the head down. — Crossing your arms in anger, you leaned against the mossy wall of the cave, glaring holes into the siren’s head, as Wooyoung finished explaining everything, demeanor nervous and all as you rung your shirt for the third time to rid your attire of the seawater. Seagulls cawed around the roof of the cave, and small creatures climbed in between the cracks and crevices of the rocks surrounding you. Yeosang was leaning forward, arms crossed against a rock, chin tucked up onto his arms as his tail swished languidly in the water behind him. “Is it true that Wooyoung can speak to you telepathically?” you peered over the boy’s shoulder, quirking a brow at the bored siren, who was busy toying with a cluster of barnacle. He nodded, rolling his eyes as you asked for an explanation as to why that was possible. “Don’t know. Your lovely human friend here has been reading about it all month, and I can’t come up with anything rational either,” he threw himself back, eyes squinting as beams of sunlight flashed onto his face, “He’s been meeting me here to ask questions and learn about our kind. Curious little guy, but naive. It’s great that the runt has you following after him like a little sandpiper, or else I probably would have killed him that night.” He burst into a fit of mock laughter at your panicked expression, leaning back against a rock and crossing his arms over his chest, green, transparent gills dripping with seawater, “Kidding. I’ve never met a deaf human and a ..” he eyed you up and down, tongue gliding against his sharp teeth as he thought of a way to describe you, “Earth roach.” Wooyoung shot you a look as you attempted to grab a seashell to thwart it at the siren, “Why should we even trust you? You’ve killed too many humans. One of you attacked me too!” “You don’t have to trust me,” his tail fins swayed gently in the water as he threw a smirk your way,”Ah, so you’re that human that managed to escape from Seonghwa years ago? You left some ugly damage to his gills that day, y’know. Couldn’t sing for a week. He’ll be happy to know I found you.” “It’s against the law to interact with sirens anyway. I don’t want to see that bastard.” “Well, I guess I should call the King on you two for breaking the law? Or better yet, maybe I’ll tear you apart to see how you look from the inside. Red is my favorite color for a reason.” You rolled your eyes, tugging at Wooyoung’s elbow to get his attention. You urged him to go home with you and leave the siren be, but he wouldn’t budge, sitting down onto one of the dry rocks, hands grabbing at the forgotten book. You argued back and forth, exchanging glares of protest as he told you he’ll be fine. “He is a siren,” you cried, hands grasping his shoulders, face leaning in, “He will kill you!” ‘He would have killed me weeks ago, if he really wanted to,’ he defended, mirroring your own fierce glare. Twenty minutes ticked by, and you eventually gave up attempting to persuade him. Wooyoung was as stubborn as a rock. You decided it was best to just trust him, even if you did think he was insane for interacting with a siren like it was a friend. Like it was human. Like it had compassion and empathy. It was nothing but a blood-thirsty killer. His explanation just had no merit to it whatsoever. A month passed and Wooyoung wasn’t killed, so you assumed all was well. The last thing you expected was to see Wooyoung walk back into your complex, one late night, with disheveled hair and purple marking on his neck. The straw broom in your hands fell onto the floor with a loud clang, as you attempted to near him in suspicion. His hands hastily shot up to conceal the love-bites with the collar of his blouse, but your hands were quick to push them away. You glared into his eyes disapprovingly as his face flushed in embarrassment, “Please tell me it wasn’t him.” Anger suddenly washed his features as he read your lips. He pried your arms off, angrily shoving past you to reach the closet for a change of clothes. You rushed to stand in front him, arms crossed and features cold,’You can’t expect me to be okay with this. He’s a siren. You can’t love a siren. Don’t go see him again, please. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.’ ‘I’m not a baby. I can take care of myself,’ his gaze was cold. ‘I didn’t say you were, but I’m scared. What if he hurts you?’ ‘It’s because I’m deaf, isn’t it? You think the world is out to get me, and I’m not capable of handling anything by myself?’ You vehemently disagreed with his thoughts, but he left no more room for argument as he slammed the door to the bathroom shut, rattling the figurines on top of the wooden dresser you shared. The sound of the shower head was audible through the door as you furiously swept the remaining dust bunnies. This went on for about two more months The past two months have also been increasingly difficult for San and his mother at home. Your other friend grew somewhat distant and cold when you came to visit him at home. You didn’t need any explanation about his behavior. Mrs. Choi’s attempts at concealing the blooming blue and purple marks proved fruitless as she reached up to dust bookshelves, her shirt giving way to showcase the marks marring her skin. Her eyes seemed to always shine with a thin layer of tears, and her smile was forced half of the time.

San was aggressive whilst practicing and honing his swordsmanship skills, muscles burning in protest as he slashed at slabs of wood repeatedly, his cheeks rosy underneath the evening sun. Not even your arms tugging him away from the practice field sufficed in calming his raging nerves down, shouting at you to leave if you didn’t want to watch. There was a need to continuously grow stronger- you clearly saw it past his anger and frustration. He wanted, needed, to feel as if he had power over something. With a heavy heart, you nodded in acceptance, sitting off to the side to watch him burn himself out physically. He also partook in extra duels, so many that a limit had to be placed on how much he could take part in. During times like these, you realized being raised as an orphan was nothing compared to living with an abusive father. You only wished to stop feeling so helpless, wishing you could help carry the pain and exhaustion weighing San’s shoulders down.

One day, while the three of you sat together in a nearby cafe, he picked at his baked tart, eyes then darting from you quietly sipping your tea to Wooyoung who stuffed his mouth with a freshly baked croissant. The purple haired male wore a scarf around his neck, the sight of it only angering you slightly. San’s lips parted in hesitation, words dying in his throat as you glanced up at him curiously,”You okay?”

Wooyoung peered over at the ebony haired male, cheeks round with warm pastry and jam, his eyes blinking in confusion,‘Sorry, did you want a piece of my croissant?’

San snorted at the guilt ridden expression on the lavender haired male’s visage, an amused smile raking his features as he shook his head,’No. That’s fine,’ his hands hovered above his drink, lips pressed into a thin line, before he continued,’I realized I never thanked you two.’

‘Thanked us for what?’

‘I didn’t grow up having anyone to look up to. I only grew up knowing what I don’t want to be like. None of the children at school understood me, either. They often mocked my mother and I when they visited the library, sometimes smudging ink on their hands to resemble the bruises on her arms. They were evil, and for the longest time, I thought the entire world was as cold as they were. You two changed my entire perceptive of people, though. So, thank you. It’s years too late, but-,’ San’s bashful expression suddenly fell at the sight of the two pairs of glassy eyes,”Ah! What? Don’t even think about crying!”

—

Weeks later, and San had returned to somewhat of a healthier, emotional state of mind, spending most of his time either at the library with his mother, or training and dueling. Late nights walking on the beach also aided his frazzled nerves.

Wooyoung spent most of him time with Yeosang at the cave, and San had questioned you regarding his behavior one day when he paid you a visit, hands heavy with the dinner he helped his mother prepare. You gaped at him, chopsticks in mid-air as you gave him an incredulous look, “What? No, I didn’t reject him- I don’t even like him like that— oh heavens this is Wooyoung we’re talking about, San. He’s like a brother to me. You know that. He’s just..” What sounded reasonable enough for Wooyoung to spend more time away from the only people he considered family? What were you going to say? Picking up on San’s lingering suspicion, you placed your utensil down, sighing and ringing your fingers together as you gazed at him in contemplation, “I..” the words you wanted stuck in your throat. Swallowing thickly, you suddenly found interest in the noodles and fish on your plate, “You know I have feelings for you, and only you. No one will ever change that, San.”

You were aware of how heated his face had become at the confession, brown hues lifting to study your features warily, “Do you really mean that? Am I good enough for you?”

You push past the need to shoot him an incredulous look, instead opting to reach over to clasp his hands in your own, fingers coiling with his,”Of course, I mean it. You’ll always own my heart. It’s always been that way.”

“But I need you to tell me that I’m good enough for you,” he pushed his plate away, appetite gone as he stared stoically at you, his voice so small it sounded like a whisper,“Do you think I’m capable of protecting you? Or.. or even loving you? Am I?”

“You are. You’re more than enough for me,” you stood up to hug his head against your chest, his eyes locked on yours, stunned and almost teary-eyed, “You’ll always be enough.”

One moment you were busy eating dinner, and the next the two of you found yourselves entangled in each other’s embrace, exchanging feverish kisses and desperate, long-awaited touches that once only existed existed in your dreams, too insecure to turn them into reality. You kissed every mark and scar left from the hands of his father, murmuring gentle praises against his marred skin, his muscles rippling underneath your touch. His lips wouldn’t leave your form, biting and sucking at every expanse of flesh he could reach as he rocked into you, hands gripping your hips and waist almost possessively.

He fell against your bare form in a heap, your conjoined bodies sticky and glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. His face was buried into the crook of your neck as he suckled onto a patch of your bruised skin, hot breath fanning against your already heated flesh as he whispered sweet, muffled promises against the shell of your ear. You felt his release slowly dribble from where your bodies met, your frame squirming at the sensation as you unwrapped your legs from around his waist, spreading them apart to allow him room to settle against your panting figure.

“I can’t believe you actually thought I was into Wooyoung,” you groaned in embarrassment as he littered your chest with tiny love marks, teeth scraping against your skin in the most pleasurable way. He chuckled against your supple flesh, and it’s then you realized you haven’t seen a smile reach his eyes quite like this in all the years you’ve known him.

The next morning, he expected to find a flustered Wooyoung at the sight of San sleeping in his home, but his sheets were still pristine and untouched, just as they were the night before. He questioned you about Wooyoung while you two shared a light breakfast together, beams of sunlight doing wonders to his chiseled visage and bed hair.

“Okay, I guess I’ve been keeping this away from you for too long, and Wooyoung didn’t want me mentioning it—” An inferno set ablaze in San’s eyes, and you internally scolded yourself for the lack of appropriate words. You hastily whispered before he had the opportunity to open his mouth, “He made friends with a siren, and-”

“With a siren!?” His spoon clattered in the bowl of porridge, splashing the table and the mug of tea. Your eyes widened and you slapped a finger to your lips, telling him to lower his voice, “What do you mean be quiet!? He’s with a siren, and you’re okay with that!?”

His hard gaze was trained on you, and an involuntary shiver ran down your spine. You parted your lips to explain, when suddenly, he pushed back his seat, chair scraping the floor as he made his way over to Wooyoung’s closet, throwing on the leather baldric he found and sheathing Wooyoung’s sword, before tugging his boots only to spare you a brief glance. You trailed after San, hands tugging desperately at his arms, but he refused to turn around and listen, “Listen, I’ve tried telling him, but he wouldn’t have it! Trust me, this is going to do more harm than good- He can hear the siren! They communicate telepathically and- and.. there’s no explanation to it but please- I’ve tried persuading him, but he’s too stubborn for his own good.”

“You..,” San paused in his tracks, turning around to give you a hard stare, eyes clouded with conflict. His lips parted, before they pressed into a thin line, shoulders tense with anger, “If you think I’m going to sit back and hope one of my best friends won’t die in the hands of a monster, then you must’ve lost your mind.”

The words stung, but you knew that was his irrational side taking over. A part of you knew you couldn’t blame him for rash behavior he’s grown from being around someone as horrid as his father, “You’re going to show me where he is, before I take this to the King and have that beast slaughtered.”

You were in for a lot of shit, and you didn’t know who to be afraid of most. San, for keeping this information away from him? Wooyoung, who made you promise you wouldn’t speak of this? Yeosang, who wasn’t that quite fond of you? Or King Hongjoong, who followed in the footsteps of his father, abiding by all the laws the older has set for the people.

When San stumbled into the cave, gently prying you off, his eyes burning with rage as he searched for a familiar head of purple, “Wooyoung!”

Flashes of confusion, betrayal, and anger sparked within Wooyoung’s eyes as he noticed the two of you, his eyes sending you a silent question as you noticed the glimmer of Yeosang’s tail underneath the dark waters.

‘You have gone crazy, haven’t you?’

Wooyoung chose to ignore him, pushing past his shoulder with the books he borrowed from the library tucked underneath his arm. If he recognized the baldric fastened on San’s torso, he made no implication of it. A furious hand clamped onto his shoulder, swiveling him back to face the the seething swordsman. San threateningly leaned into Wooyoung’s face, eyes raging with an inferno of anger and hostility. The purple haired male hesitantly bought a hand up to tug at the collar of his tunic, but San’s eyes already took note of the purple marks on the column of the boy’s flesh, “Are you fucking kidding me? You didn’t tell me he was intimate with it too!?”

“San,” you called out in annoyance, “Stop. He’s safe, you see? I told you Yeosang means no ha—”

A sudden flash of silver made you reel back in shock, your eyes widening at the sight of San brandishing his sharpened sword, the tip barely grazing the siren’s nose as the two froze to stare each other down. Wooyoung dropped the book he carried in surprise arms flying out to tug San’s weapon back, his own orbs furiously staring his friend down.

“Yeosang, leave!” You shouted amongst the commotion of your two friends, stepping around them to lightly push at Yeosang’s shoulders deeper into the water, “You’ll get killed! Leave!”

“Don’t underestimate me, little human. You’re going to regret the day you were born.”

Your eyes widened at the sight of his parted lips, swiftly rushing back to the other two, but you couldn’t call San in time to warn him, “Cover your-”

The sword clattered against the small boulders beneath San’s feet, eyes unfocused as the melodic sound of the siren’s call echoed within the walls of the cave, filling his ears. Wooyoung stared at his best friend’s face in shock, eyes flickering down to the sword, before he gazed at Yeosang in realization. He hesitantly watched San turn around in Yeosang’s direction, before he quickly wrapped a hand around the ebony haired male’s waist, tugging him back harshly,’Yeosang! Stop! I won’t let you kill him!’

Yeosang paid no mind to his friend’s protests, amused eyes flickering from both San and yourself, who struggled on maintaining your ears clamped with your hands. He raised his voice, lips quirking as your hands fell limp against your sides, eyes locked on the vast space in front of you. His hands itched at the thought of ripping the two of you apart from the inside out.

‘Yeosang! Stop!’

Yeosang’s voice was clearer than bells, and so devastatingly, hauntingly beautiful in your ears, and you wanted nothing more than to listen to it for years to come. Wooyoung’s panic stricken eyes flew over to your form as you trudged through the waist deep water, eyes unfocused and lips parted. He struggled to maintain a firm grip on San’s figure, who continuously clawed at the arms securing him in place.

Throwing San back against the mossy wall of the cave, Wooyoung madly dashed to tackle Yeosang down into the water, immediately ceasing his singing. The siren hissed in retaliation, nails dragging down the flesh of the hands clamped onto his mouth. He furiously swung his tail against Wooyoung’s ankles, pulling him down into the water. Snapping out of your trance, you were quick on your feet to help San up, hastily gripping the heavy sword away from his grasp. When he demanded you to hand it to him, Wooyoung shoved the both of you in the direction of cave’s entrance, furiously signing to leave immediately.

‘I’ll be fine! Just leave!’

A clawed hand reached out to slash at San, and out of instinct, you shoved yourself in between him and the siren, claws latching onto your ankle. Your immediate response was to pull away, flesh tearing underneath the sharp nails, a hiss leaving your lips as the salt in the ocean doing nothing to ease the pain of your opened wounds.

Wooyoung wrestled the siren down, hands clamped around his mouth, while he shot you two a look over his shoulder, eyes wild and void of any patience. San scoffed, hand wrapping around your waist to hoist you up on your good leg, eyes narrowed furiously,”You should have never stopped me from killing it–” “Shut up, San. If you had listened to me, we wouldn’t have been in—”

You emitted a groan of pain as your wounded leg brushed against the protruding edge of a rocky sides of the cave, hissing underneath your breath as you gripped San’s forearm to ease your mind off the burning sensation. Finally stumbling down onto the pebbled floor of the shore, you paused as San pulled away from you, “You go get help, and I’ll go back and-”

“You are not going back there! He will kill you, San. Get that through your thick head.”

“He nearly killed you, (y/n)! We left Wooyoung with that monster!”

“He’ll be okay, I promise. Wooyoung will be fine,” you groaned at the sight of red running down your ankle and soaking the sand underneath your foot,”Please, just fucking listen to me for once!” He stilled at your raised voice, and your eyes widened suddenly at the change of his demeanor. You quickly grasped his elbows, attempting to look him in the eye, “Oh, San- no. No, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for yelling- I forgot-”

“We should get your leg checked out,” he quipped firmly, avoiding your gaze as he proceeded to push you in the general direction of town, his shoulders and jaw tense with unresolved tension and anger.

— It was midnight, and Wooyoung still hadn’t returned home. Your one room living space felt too vacant without him sleeping on the top bunk bed you shared. Your ankle throbbed beneath the thick bandages, the smell of herbal ointment prominent even underneath the heavy layers of cloth.

You tossed and turned in your sheets for what felt like hours. The exhaustion and worry that clouded your mind prevented you from falling asleep. You quickly sat up, reached to light your oil lamp, before making your way out of your home to wander restlessly in the desolate streets, hoping to find the purple haired male.

You paused once you stepped around the corner of San’s neighborhood. Broken and discarded glass decorated the floor near his feet where he sat against the entryway of his home. The door hung by its hinges, splintered and shattered in some areas. You nearly dropped your lamp as you rushed towards the disheveled male, whose half-buttoned up, bloodied shirt, revealed glimpses of jagged scars left from his duels. Your eyes studied his visage, brows knitting in concern at the familiar, ghostly frown. His eyes spared you the briefest of looks before he dropped his gaze down to his bloody hands. Dried tear streaks and specks of red decorated his ghostly visage. The faint barking of a dog was heard streets away.

“It’s not mine. None of it is mine,” he mumbled, noticing your stunned gaze at the sight of red.

“They fought again?” you asked, already knowing the answer. He nodded silently, arms limp at his sides, “.. and she ran away again?” Another nod, and suddenly he found himself engulfed in your hold, tears streaming down his face as he held you close, face buried against the crown of your head. His resolve shatter quicker than any glass.

“I- .. I was angry, (y/n). I fought with him,” His voice was small and wavering, jumbled thoughts spilling rapidly from his lips,”the medics took him. He called me a bloodthirsty killer– but I’m..was it was defense? That’s not considered killing, right?” His breathing quickened, chest heaving as he struggled to steady his air flow, voice rising an octave as panic laced his tone,” “I’m not a killer, am I (y/n)? I am nothing like him,” his fingers tugged at his untamed hair in frustration, pupils quivering rapidly as he attempted to calm his racing and frantic heart, “I will never be anything like him. I need you to tell me that. Tell me I’m nothing like him!”

You pulled him inside and onto the couch, stepping over the fallen furniture, splintered wood, broken flower vases, and torn, embroidered, floral tapestries that littered the floor. Your eyes caught sight of a fallen, bloodied sword you recognized from San’s practices. Cold dinner filled plates lay broken near the flipped table. You held onto your broken friend throughout the night, consoling him repeatedly and wiping away his tears. You pressed numerous kisses onto his face, your hand running through his locks as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, years of agony apparent in his loud, torturous cries muffled against your skin. The sounds made your skin crawl in the most unpleasant way. You paused only when you noted the change in pattern of his breathing, indicating his deep slumber. Your eyes glanced at the full moon out the window, only praying that both Wooyoung and Mrs. Choi were alright.

—

Wooyoung was curled onto one of the higher rocks of the cave, fast asleep. He refused to return back home, not yet ready or willing to face his friends. Droplets of seawater pelting his face startled him awake, and he sat up in confusion at the sudden sensation. This definitely do not look like the ceiling of his home. His eyes snap down to search for Yeosang, the memories from hours ago vividly etching themselves back into his mind.

His eyes locked on someone else’s- a woman’s- and his eyes could only stare back in shock at the sight of San’s mother of all people in the cave, struggling to pry a raging Yeosang off of her.

‘Yeosang! Stop! Don’t kill her! I know her-’

‘You say that about every rat of a human, don't you?’

Only when Yeosang turned to snap the intruder’s neck in half, he paused at the gleam of her necklace. His gills contracted as he gazed at the intricately carved pendant resting on the older woman’s clavicles, “Where did you get that, filthy human?” he hissed, fins and rays flaring out ferociously, his long and sharp teeth snapping at the rage in his tone,”That necklace is for my people. My clan.”

“A friend gave it to me,” the lady explained, hand protectively clutching the pendant and out of Yeosang’s sight. He glowered menacingly at her, eyes still holding numerous silent questions. His eyes glanced down at her blue and purple marred neck and décolletage, “You.. you resemble him so much. My friend. This used to be our hang out spot years ago. His name was Yeohan. Did you know him?”

Yeosang jerked back suddenly, and from Wooyoung’s spot and the darkness engulfing the cave, he could hardly make out the movements of their lips. He scrambled to climb down the rocks, making his way over, legs frantically splashing in the water.

‘Yeosang? What’s wrong?’

“How do you know my father!? He died-”

“Twenty years ago,” Mrs. Choi finished for him, his eyes growing wide with shock at the woman’s affirmation,”The king killed him for the coming-of-age ritual. He wears his coat to this day. The moment I saw you, I knew you had to have been his offspring. The resemblance is uncanny.”

“You think I don’t know the evil things you’ve done to my people?” The siren spat, “I don’t need you telling me what crimes your kind has committed-”

“I will get it back for you. His coat. I’ll return it to you here by dawn.” Silence enveloped the two as the sea creature stared with a gaping mouth at the human.

His eyes narrowed in suspicion, “What purpose would that serve you? Certainly, not out of kindness?”

She only offered him a sad smile. — You adjusted your trousers one last time, before leaning down to brush the hair out of San’s face. He stirred awake from your touch, eyes tired and puffy, “Is it morning?”

You glanced at the dark window, shrugging slightly before turning back to him, “Sort of. I need to deliver the fish to the merchants. I think.. I think you should stay here until I’m back. We can go check on your mom together? Do you want the keys to my place? Go rest there while I’m away.”

He nodded with a soft sigh, hand cupping the one you placed onto his palm,”I’ll stay here to clean up. Don’t take too long, please.”

“I won’t. Just please rest for me, okay? Maybe Wooyoung will come back to visit you here.”

You pressed a firm kiss against his lips, one he gladly reciprocated even in his sleepy state, “Love you.”

You were the first to discover Mrs. Choi’s body. Nothing, absolutely nothing, could have prepared you for the sight of a corpse, limp and pale and stuck between a cluster of jagged rocks underneath a cliff. The net of fish you hauled onto your back dropped with a loud thud onto the deck of the docked fishing ship, the sailors and other fisherman yelling at you in shock. It was only when you pointed out the body swaying against the rocks with every wave that they abandoned their work to call a nearby officer.

Dread, heavy and ugly, filled you to the core, the sound of your heartbeat in your ears drowning out the shouting in the background. Panic worked its way out of every pore on your body, your eyes locked on the floating, dark haired woman, olive green dress swaying gently in the calm waters of the early morning.

It couldn’t be her.

She wasn’t the only woman in town with such a dress. A glimmer of hope twinkled somewhere inside of you.

Not her. Anyone but her. Upon closer inspection as the officers hauled up the body, you nearly collapsed on sight. A shudder claimed your body in realization, your blood running cold at the sight of her frozen, gaping, her lips a dark hue of blue, forehead marred and slightly dented from where she most likely impacted the rocks. You could only stare silently as the medics hauled the body up on a stretcher, placing it in the back of a large wagon, the sound of hooves hitting the rocky pavement indicating its departure.

Just how on earth are you planning on letting San know?

—

Hours later, after arguing continuously with the medics, protesting how you needed to see the body, they ultimately refused, even calling out to guards to lock you out of the medical wing of the building. The town of Aurora was coiled in chaos at the announcement of the corpse found near the docks. The councilmen furiously argued amongst each other as the crowd grew bigger in the town’s square, right beneath the large clock tower. Curious people joined along in confusion at the sudden, early commotion, some propping their windows open to tend to their clothe lines and watch with bewildered eyes.

You stood amongst the crowd, fists clenching repeatedly whilst maintaining your flaring emotions. You pondered whether or not you should stick around or go and inform San, when one of the royal family’s servants ordered the towns councilmen to the town hall for an immediate meeting with the current and former king. You turned to race towards the aforementioned building, only for a hand to grip you in place. Turning, your heart leaped in your throat at the solemn looking San. He made no move forward, and all you could do was silently gape, unsure of how you were going to break the news to him, “Couldn’t sleep. I know. The neighbors told me when I went back to check the library,” he calmly explained over the hordes of bodies shoving and pushing past the two of you. Amongst the rush of civilians, you embraced him with trembling arms, your brows knitting in anger as you buried your face into his brown tunic.

You grasped his hand in hopes of comforting him while the two of you waited amongst the crowd in the town hall for the appearance of the King and his father. He held you close, chin resting against the crown of your head. You can tell he was in shock, his grief yet to be surfaced as he held you silently. His eyes were heavy with years of turmoil and anguish, all underneath the hands of one, grimy man. Knowing him, deep down, he most likely will never find it in him to forgive himself for not chasing after his broken mother last night. It will haunt him for years to come.

King Hongjoong appeared, seated in the middle of the large bench, his father to his right. Other noblemen also sat beside the two rulers. A medical examiner spoke rapidly in hushed whispers to the white haired male, whilst pointing to several parchments of paper. The King’s brows knitted the more the examiner spoke, and he nodded solemnly, a hand reaching up to dismiss the two medical staff. A gloved hand pinched the bridge of his nose, his charcoal hues flickering to the side to glance at his father, whose stoic expression did not twitch in the slightest at the barren news.

The Commander of the Royal Guards barked at the restless crowd of people gathered into the large room to have respect for the King, and the silence that followed suit was deafening. King Hongjoong cleared his throat, his hair pristine as usual, although there seemed to be a weight of burden and stress taking a toll on his young features. His eyes were lifeless and dark, a stark contrast to when he was much younger.

“It’s come to our attention that the body of Mrs. Choi has been found near the harbor. Upon investigation, medical examiners have concluded that cause of death was suicide,” Hongjoong spoke clearly, voice booming in the walls of the building.

You felt San’s grip on your hand tighten, his brows furrowed as he attempted to contain his composure. You saw guilt flash within his orbs, so raw and visible it made you look away, at anything besides his face. It didn’t sound right hearing the words come out from the king’s lips. You knew Mrs. Choi as well as you knew San. There’s no way she would have willingly dove to her death. “Isn’t Mr. Choi also in the hospital for multiple stab wounds?” A voice piped from the crowd. Hongjoong frowned at the sudden interruption, his hands reaching up to adjust his cloak, when another voice spoke up.

“Where is their son? I heard from neighbors that he was the one who stabbed his father,” a middle aged man mused loudly to the crowd.

“Is that why Mrs. Choi killed herself?” a lady joined in now,”Or was her son behind her fall too?”

“What if a siren killed her?”

“Nonsense, we haven’t seen one in the past four years.”

“Then who do you think has been cutting all of our fishing nets and destroying our sails?,” a familiar voice rang out through the hall. The tall male stepped closer to the Commander, before turning to the crowd, and you watched with horror in your eyes at the next few words to slip out of the Minjae’s mouth, “I’ve been telling my dad about the purple-haired boy who’s been meeting with sirens in the cave east of town. I saw the siren with my own eyes. I told you Wooyoung was up to no good. He’s probably selling all of our people’s information to those beasts.”

Hongjoong’s lips parted to speak, anger clearly painting his features, before his father stood up suddenly, gaze hard and unwavering at the Commander. It was then you noticed the lack of cloak on his frame,”Interacting with those beasts is a criminal offense punishable by death. Find me that boy. I want him publicly executed in the town’s square. As for the librarian’s son, find him as well. Lock him in the chambers until I decide what to do with him.”

Hongjoong gaped to the side at his father in disbelief, brows knitting in confusion, his kohl rimmed eyes wide. Mingi, who stood behind the white haired King glanced at the male, shoulders tense at growing chaos infiltrating the room, “Let me make the decisions, Father. I am King, after all.”

San reached down to grip onto your hand, and when his hand curled into nothing but air, his eyes snapped down to find your figure gone.

“You old bastard!” A sickening crunch, a wave of gasps of disbelief, and your shouting sent the townspeople into a mad frenzy.

—

Wooyoung watched the small fish swim by his feet, nibbling at his toes. He smiled tenderly, feet swishing and kicking at the animals playfully. Off to the side, Yeosang held onto his father’s cloak, so tightly and desperately as if it would disappear,’I told you that lady was nice.’

Yeosang reached up to rub at his wet eyes furiously, golden orbs flickering up to meet the umber colored ones of the male,’I take back my criticism. Maybe there are still some good humans out there. Repeat my words in front of Seonghwa, and I will personally claw out your eyeballs.’

‘If you do, how will I get to see your beautiful face?’ Wooyoung simpered, cheeks flushing slightly at the other’s thoughts. He nodded shyly, fingers reaching to grasp the siren’s hand, thumb caressing the iridescent skin,’Just like how there are sirens with good hearts as well,’ the intimate moment was soon interrupted by a frantic sound of splashing, and Yeosang’s face fell immediately upon the sight of a panic stricken San. Immediately reading the emotions haunting San’s features, Wooyoung stood up, face contorting in confusion as San scrambled to explain the gravity of the situation they were in, both verbally to Yeosang and with hand signs for Wooyoung.

‘They’re going to execute (y/n). Death by drowning.’

Wooyoung swore his heart skipped a beat or two, his eyes wide and hands limp by his sides. Yeosang quietly watched from behind him.

‘(Y/n) attacked the King’s father. They’re planning on executing you too for meeting with Yeosang. And they think I was the one who killed my mother, and they’re hunting for me, too.’

Wooyoung reeled back, the bombardment of shocking news too much for him to handle all at once, but San continued, occasionally fumbling with his hands from the sheer amount of stress surging through his system,’Wooyoung, we need to leave. Now. I’m going to bail (y/n) out, and you’ll wait for us at the west part of town. There’s a boat there. We have no time to waste,” he hastily reached forward to pull his friend up, tugging him forcibly over clusters of ocean rocks.

“In exchange, will you promise me to protect my son?”

It took Yeosang a minute or two to process the woman’s words, before he finally nodded in response, a frown settling on his features, “Only if you keep your end of the promise.” “No. You will join him on the boat and escape. Death by enforced drowning you said?”

—

You glared icily through the dark bars separating your form from the snow haired king. He ushered the guard to give the two of you privacy, and a minute of footsteps later, and the two of you were left alone in the dark chambers of the royal palace, mossy wall cold against your battered back, “What do you want?” you spat rudely, the taste of iron prominent against your busted lips, your bloodied teeth bared as you glowered at him, “If you’re here to give me shut about how I shouldn’t have attacked your swine of a—”

“They’re preparing the ship as we speak,” he cut you off, a hint of amusement dancing in his orbs joined by the flickering fire of the wall mounted sconce illuminating his features. He casted your cuffed hands a glance, before gazing at your bleeding ankle, “So, I came as fast as I could. The guards have already left to hunt down your two friends.”

Dread bled into your form, and your blood ran cold at the sudden gravity of his words. You were going to die. God, you were going to die before properly apologizing to Wooyoung, before holding San one last time, before- “I have a few words to share with you- I’m afraid I won’t be able to tell you this soon, so,” you watched him remove the golden coat around his frame, rolling it tightly before placing it down into the cell, “Incase either one of us doesn’t make it.. you know what this is, right?”

“A siren’s coat? Of course, I do. What’s your point?”

A twinge of a smile graced his features at your sharp tone, before his face fell into a solemn expression,”It’s tradition that an heir becomes of age when he or she slays a siren and wears it’s coat as a sign of dignity, bravery, and honor. It’s been the case for many generations before me. My father earned his when he was twenty-three. My mother came from another royal family from Port Hala. They do not hold similar traditions as us, and instead do not meddle or interfere with sirens. When it came for me to sail alone and kill one, at a much younger age than my father was, my mother insisted that our family breaks the tradition. My father, as you can guess, disagreed and left no room for her arguments. She threatened to take me and make a run for it if they forced me into it, and later that night, they found her body not too far from shore. My father informed the public that it was the sirens’ doing, but no one was permitted to see her body. Not even me.”

His eyes drifted to the patch of green on the wall behind you, shaking his head and continuing with a lowered voice, “So, I sailed to uninhabited islands, knowing that there were gentle sirens there, and not like the ones that lurked here amongst humans. I met one, a very young one. He was very adventurous and snuck from his kind to chase his pet octopus and.. he was harmless, unable to hear, thus never really learning how to sing any of the sirens’ songs. He was a very naive, little one. I persuaded him to come on land with me because we were friends, and I ran off with his coat, thinking it would be the last I’ll see him. I never had the courage or heart to kill him, and I never thought he’d wash up into our town, either.”

Whatever air you had left was knocked out straight from your lungs. You knew where this was going. You held his gaze with your widened orbs, bloodied jaw slack from shock.

“I intended to kill him that night he was found, but after the doctors discovered his head injury and lack of memories, other than his name among other things, I chose to spare his life. I was afraid my father and the rest of the town will find out. I was and always will be a coward, even as King of Aurora,” he mused, hands reaching up to adjust his white blouse, “I will be on board the boat taking you to your execution. My bodyguard, Mingi, will join us, along with my father’s right hand man, who was behind Mrs. Choi’s death. She was found stealing my father’s coat, but she managed to slip away before the guards had a chance to retrieve it. My father sent him to do whatever means necessary to punish her for her actions.

I know my father better than anyone else. Without a doubt, I know he was behind her death. (Y/n), please, whatever you do, do not attempt to fight him. Go with the plan. Mingi and I already discussed everything, and he will help you out once you’re dropped from the ship. I don’t plan on allowing my father to return back to town,” his eyes grew dark, the shadows of stress aging his appearance. Your eyes widened at his implications, “And I might not make it out alive. If I don’t, Mingi will give you my coat when he rescues you. I need you to apologize on my behalf if I am unable to. Mingi is a great sailor. His father taught him, so he knows his way around a ship. I want you two to escape to Port Hala as soon as you find Wooyoung, is that understood? Take Choi San with you. Mingi will take you to Yunho and Jongho, two friends of ours who will help you. This town will have your heads if you step foot back here.”

The rush of information was too much for your tired brain to comprehend so quickly. You meekly nodded, cuffed hands reaching to clasp the bars tightly, your eyes never leaving the golden coat he donned on, “Yes, King Hongjoong.” “Hongjoong. Just Hongjoong.”

—

You struggled to maintain the heavy weight of the reinforced cuffs around your wrists, body staggering forward from a boot to your back, your frame crashing into the railing of the large ship. You hissed upon impact, the marks on your ankle bleeding against the bandages. You were roughly tugged by the hair, the bruised face of the former king coming into view as his second in command held you by your disheveled locks, “Helmsman! A bit further and then you can drop the anchor!” The old man boomed, gray tresses tied tightly into a high bun, his charcoal hues burning holes into your head.

You snuck a glance at Mingi, whose eyes never left your form. His hands gripped the steering wheel harshly, knuckles bone-white. A subtle nod of his head washed a bit of relief over your trembling frame. Hongjoong watched from beside his father, as the man shoved your face into metal railing of the ship, sharp ends of the wood slicing your cheek. A familiar glimmer in the water captured your attention, and your eyes met a pair of golden ones deep under the calm waves of the ocean. Your eyes widened, a gasp threatening to leave your lips.

The ship finally came to a halt, and a pair of shiny, leather boots invaded your vision. You glowered at the king from your position on the deck, cheekbones bruised and lip split. You spat onto his shoes, blood splattering on his ironed, white trousers. Charcoal hues void of any empathy stared down at you, before the former king’s hand reached down to tug you up by the collar of your shirt, his crown sparkling under the bright sun. You shared a look with a tense Hongjoong who remained back, his hands clenching into fists, before you were bought back to reality as the older man slammed your back against the railing, pushing you up, your frame dangerously tilting over the edge, “After my kingdom has sacrificed so much for you stupid orphans, this is how you return the favor?” he growled, the strands of his beard tickling your forehead as he gripped your jaw with his other hand, “You will wish I had just shot you when the sirens rip you apart limb by limb. Your screams of agony will sound like a beautiful melody to my ears.”

Your eyes locked with golden ones, and you couldn’t help but reflect back on the time you confronted him in the cave.

“Why do I kill you treacherous humans?” he laughed at your question, your eyes narrowing as a result. He grasped the moving whelk on the rock, clawed fingers crushing it as his gaze never left your own, “Easy. Your King took my father away from me.”

The gruff man released his hands from your collar to swivel you around, but you hastily threw your arms out to reach his head, your vision unclear with unkempt and bloody strands of your hair. The link on your cuffs latched onto the back of his neck, and you tugged him towards you roughly, hoping gravity will be of assistance. Your frames tipped down and your lips quirked up without you realizing it. The last thing you saw before you plummeted down to the blue waters was Mingi’s and Hongjoong’s shocked faces, the latter’s frame already rushing forward to try and reach you with an extended hand. The three of you were definitely expecting this outcome You dove head first into the ocean, the elderly man beside you only feet away. Your attempts to swim up to the surface proved futile as the weights of the cuffs around your ankles and wrists succumbed to gravity. A purple tail smacked your side, and you came face to face with a familiar visage, the air escaping your lungs in bubbles. Rough claws tugged on the metal chains and cuffs, and after a few attempts, the metal snapped under the pressure.

“Wrap your arms around my neck. Don’t try anything funny, or this time I will kill you,” the purple-tailed siren growled, turning his head to glance at the other siren who seemed to enjoy circling around the man who seemed to panic at the sight of the being across from him. Golden eyes studied the old man struggling to swim up to the surface.

You desperately gasped for air once breaching the surface of the water, arms loosely wrapped around the back of the other’s neck. He paid you no mind as he carefully watched his friend’s head surface, golden eyes trained on the white haired man yelling up at the others on board to save him.

Hongjoong’s eyes were void of any empathy as he casually crossed his arms on the railing, leaning forward and blinking in response to his father’s shouts. He spared you a second to gaze at your form, relief melting his stoic features slightly. Beside him, the second in command made an attempt to shoot at the blonde siren silently staring at the former leader, the barrel of his pistol gleaming in the sunlight.

“Drop it,” the deep voice of the red-head was heard from behind Hongjoong, his own pistol resting against the against the man’s temple. Hongjoong didn’t bat an eyelash as Mingi overpowered the other, threatening to shoot if he didn’t comply.

“Are you crazy!? The beast is going to kill him, and all you’re doing is watching!? You’re a sorry excuse of a king- you! You have never had the power to walk in your father’s foots-” his cries were muffled against the cold, metallic barrel of Mingi’s pistol pressing against the back of his throat.

Yeosang’s gaze met Hongjoong’s, who spared him a glance before returning back to the gasping man, his hands clawing at the ship’s hull with desperate shouts.

“Don’t you recognize me, you bastard?”

The elder’s head turned to peer at the creature with fear-filled eyes, his legs beginning to tire after the long waking minutes of staying afloat.

“A disgusting beast that preys on human flesh,” the other growled, hands stabilizing his form against the ship. His intricately embroidered vest sparkled despite it being wet, dark orbs burning holes into the siren.

Seonghwa’s brows knitted as an undecipherable look washed over Yeosang’s features, his jaw tight, gills rapidly contracting. There was a raging storm within those golden hues Seonghwa hasn’t seen in a very, very long time. Yeosang’s lips twitched convulsively, a crazed look suddenly taking over his visage.

A humorless, sarcastic laugh escaped his throat, shoulders shaking and brows knitting in confusion as he swam closer to the trembling man, “Take a good look at me! Tell me who I am!” he barked, the rays and fins on his neck flaring in the most menacing of ways, bared teeth gleaming like the ocean’s pearls.

The white haired man drew a breath, his lips parting as he glanced once more at the trembling siren, charcoal hues flashing with recognition suddenly, “You.. you’re the son? You’re his son.”

“The one you tried to kill!,” a howl of laughter left Yeosang’s mouth, as his head dipped back to gaze at a stunned Hongjoong, “Fate is quite hilarious, do you agree? Huh?” Clawed hands struck the ship’s hull, chipping the wood and creating furrows on the surface as Yeosang inched closer, “I was forced to watch my father protect me from you, only for you to kill him in front of my eyes. How brave of you to go after a four year old siren. And now, look at you, you poor, pathetic bastard,” his clawed hand reached forward to grab a fistful of white hair, roughly tugging the man’s head back to meet the gaze of his son, “Not even your son is willing to save you.”

“Shoot him this instant, you bastard! What are you doing staring at me like that!?”

Hongjoong remained as still as a statue, cold gaze unwavering. You swore you saw the corner of his lips twitch. There was a silent acknowledgement of understanding as Yeosang locked gazes with Hongjoong one last time.

“He’ll rather watch as I skin you alive. You don’t deserve the mercy of being under my song’s spell, no..” he shot his arm out, smashing the man’s face against the side of the ship, agonized howls of laughter switching to manic shouting whilst repeating the action, “No, I want you to feel everything. You’re going to feel every inch of your skin being peeled away. A coat for a coat, yes?”

A blob of saliva flew and splattered against Yeosang’s face, dripping down to the blue waters.

You jolted as the siren you held onto suddenly gyrated in the other direction, ripping your gaze from the scene as sounds of flesh squelching and tendons tearing came from behind.

Seonghwa decided it will be best not to stick around to see the outcome, knowing fully well what Yeosang is capable of. He readjusted you onto his back, before commanding you to take a deep breath. An involuntary shiver ran down your spine as the pained cries of the former king were washed out with the thumping of your heartbeat in your ears.

You were then enveloped in the dark waters of the ocean, the siren rapidly swimming yards away, surfacing for the briefest of moments in order for you to breathe. You had no chance to even ask him where he was taking you, and your mind could only wonder what Hongjoong was feeling at the moment. You were beyond exhausted, both mentally and physically. Your squinted eyes caught glimpses of the clouds of marine life that you hastily rocketed past, arms subconsciously tightening around the dark haired siren.

When the siren breached the surface, you gasped for air, your arms tightly coiled around his neck, causing him to wince and attempt to shrug you off, “Here’s the runt, as promised,” he growled, arms swiftly prying you off and shoving you forward to two other pairs. You stumbled into a tiny dinghy boat, mind too stunned to return the hugs that you were immediately enveloped in. It was the moment when fingers swiped at your cheeks that you realized you were crying, sobs of relief wracking your frame as you wrapped your arms around the other two men, struggling to explain what happened.

Wooyoung’s eyebrows shot up as San pulled you in for a kiss, an incredulous look meeting his features. Seonghwa grimaced in the water, his head turning as he mumbled something about how disgusting humans were. San shared an apologetic look towards the flustered Wooyoung, whose eyes wouldn’t stop flickering between the two of you for an answer.

‘I’ll explain later, promise,’ the ebony haired male signed, before he was forced to meet your gaze.

“We have to go back. I need to see the King,” you stated after the three of you pulled apart. Wooyoung paused whilst speaking with Seonghwa telepathically, eyes flickering to an angered San who grabbed the pair of oars from your hands, “San!”

“Are you crazy!?” He breathed out, “We’re leaving! We want nothing to do with this town any longer, (y/n). Wooyoung and I already made amends with Yeosang. We’re only waiting for him before we escape. I’m not letting you go back there, not after all the trouble we went through to get you here in the first place.” “You don’t understand!” you tried, stammering on your words, unable to conjugate any proper sentence, “Hongjoong helped me! He knows about your mother’s death- her killer! He’s on board,” you tugged San’s shirt desperately, “Hongjoong knows about Wooyoung, too! Before he came to our town! He can explain everything, please. We need to get to him. There’s no one else on board besides them, San.”

Wooyoung’s brows shot up as Seonghwa explained every word that was exchanged, his hues trained on San’s stunned expression.

A sigh left the siren’s lips.

“Yeosang owes me a lot for putting up with this shit,” Seonghwa grumbled, arms already working to push the dinghy back to where he rescued you, your words ringing in his ears like an echo. How did Yeosang manage to find three crazy humans- and what sea god decided to curse Seonghwa with this fate.

Tattered, white and gold, embroidered fabric littered the water around the blonde siren, bloodied, clawed fingers tracing the bejeweled crown in his hands, a solemn expression on his features. A heavy weight seemed to dissipate off the siren’s shoulders as an amused chuckle racked his frame, remembering the horror stricken cries of his father’s murderer.

The sight of a tiny boat in the distance caught the siren’s attention, and his golden hues narrowed in suspicion at the sight. This was not part of their plan at all. As it neared, his eyes bore heavily into Wooyoung for an explanation, flickering to San and then onto you, before he glared at an unamused Seonghwa, most likely exchanging heated words through their minds. You called out to Hongjoong to send down a rope ladder, and the white haired male’s head peeked up hastily at the sound of your voice. If San wasn’t trembling in rage beside you, you would’ve laughed at the expression on the young king’s features.

“Yeosang, are you okay?”

“You better have a reasonable explanation for this,” Yeosang stated, turning his attention to Seonghwa, whose eyes never left the crown in his hands.

A part of you wasn’t surprised at the sight of a bound and cuffed man on the ship’s deck, a bored Mingi towering over him with his dagger unsheathed.

“I had a feeling you’ll return here,” Hongjoong nodded in acknowledgement in your direction, before facing San, his expression sincere as he explained the reasoning behind his mother’s death. Silent tears streamed down his cheeks, darkening the wood beneath his feet as his eyes zeroed in on the gagged soldier feet away.

Wooyoung’s hand clasped San’s, his heart aching for his friend. Guilt licked the edges of consciousness, regretting not asking her to stay with him and Yeosang back in the cave. If only he had, she would have been alive. Even after explaining to San, the older denying that it was Wooyoung’s fault, he still couldn’t help but feel like her blood was on his hands.

“I give you full permission to do as you wish with him,” Hongjoong squeezed his shoulder, his hand placing a long dagger in San’s palms. Your widened eyes flickered between San and the King. Wooyoung tugged you back, hands gripping your own. His eyes carefully studied San’s frozen expression, fingers twitching against the weapon in his hands, “I’m willing to do it if you don’t want to, of course.”

Mrs. Choi’s killer only shook like a leaf in the wind underneath Mingi’s feet, wild eyes watching the exchange.

San was quick to shake his head, walking past a bleak looking Hongjoong. Steady strides later, and the ebony haired male crouched down eye level towards the trembling soldier, whose eyes glared ferociously at the blank faced Mingi, “You,” he took a deep breath in, tongue darting out to lick a stripe against his chapped lips, “I bet you enjoyed killing an innocent woman, didn’t you?” A flick of silver, and the man winced at the thin, bleeding scrape on his cheek,”Answer me!”

Another flick of the dagger, and the binds gagging the man ripped into two, beads of red escaping the slice on his trembling lips, “King Kim ordered me to! The woman stole his coat! I was only following orders!”

Hongjoong laughed from feet away, his boots stomping against the deck as he made his way over to the three men, arms crossed over his white blouse, “Mingi, do you think this poor excuse of a soldier hit his head on his way here? Who is the King of Aurora.”

“You, King Hongjoong,” Mingi quipped, a smile threatening his stony expression.

“And who should the soldiers take orders from?”

“You, King Hongjoong. Only you.”

Hongjoong’s eyes dulled as he shoved the tip of his boot into the man’s gaping mouth, pressing down against the back of his throat with hard shoves,”How silly of me. He was only following orders, though. He’s right. One must always follows the orders of a King,” his lips quirked up as he lowered his head to chuckle at the gagging man, his smile borderline manic, “San, as King, I order you to kill him.”

The man’s muffled cries against Hongjoong’s boot had no affect on San, whose hands trembled the longer he stared at him. Hongjoong urged him to go on, kicking the man away with a swift attack to his jaw, his face scrunching up in disgust at the saliva glistening on the leather.

Rays of sunlight gleamed against the edge of the dagger as San raised it high above the fallen’s neck, his hand plunging down despite the man’s strangled cries of protest.

“You’re no better than me, you son of a whore. You take joy in hurting others, don’t you? Will you get off to the fact that you’ll kill me? Will your mommy be proud of you, then?”

The man trembled, his eyes practically rolling to the back of his head in shock as the dagger impaled into the wooden deck, splintering it upon impact. Moments of silence passed, the gentle breeze caressing San’s indifferent visage, dark hues hollow as he gazed down at the crying man. Hongjoong watched the retreating figure of San, before giving the sobbing man a glance over, “You’re pathetic. What did he ever see in you, anyway?” The soldier backed against the railing of the ship, profusely apologizing and bowing to Hongjoong. He turned on his heels, arm lazily coming up to wave back as he watched you console and cup San’s face in concern, “Let the sirens decide his fate.”

He ignored the agonized cries, the clanging of metal, and the loud splash seconds later, his smile gentle as he took your disheveled appearance in, “That was some stunt you pulled earlier. You saved me getting my hands dirty,” he chuckled at your expression, the scene reminiscent of the time he found the three of you in the street in the middle of shopping.

Mingi could be heard in the background giving an approval to someone down below, and seconds later, gargled screams invaded the comfortable silence. You flashed him a small smile, fingers instinctively reaching up to give him a mock salute, “Still getting rid of rats for you, your majesty.”

An affectionate twinkle danced in his eyes as he shook his head in amusement, a hand reaching to ruffle your wet locks, “Always a loyal soldier to my kingdom, I see,” his charcoal hues flickered to Wooyoung, a sheepish expression taking over his visage, “Now I need your help getting my words through, if you don’t mind.”

You nodded, breathless as you quickly signed Hongjoong’s words to the lavender haired male, shock washing the latter’s features at the King’s words, “I hope you find it in yourself to one day forgive me, although I know I do not deserve as much for everything I have put you through,” his hands reached up to remove the coat he wore, before he presented it to the stunned male, “I believe this belongs to you, Wooyoung.”

Trembled hands slowly gripped the golden coat, his eyes peering over at San and yourself for approval. San nodded, brows knitted anxiously as he hesitantly nodded. Wooyoung tugged it on, glancing down to examine the shiny, golden material. Head snapping up, Wooyoung had only a millisecond to gauge your reaction, before the King’s hands forcefully shoved him over the railing of the tall ship, your gasp merging with San’s yelp of shock.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?”

Your hands clutched the railing, eyes searching the blue waters for any sign of your friend. Yeosang and Seonghwa peered at you from the other side in confusion when you propped a leg up onto the metal, preparing to dive in, when a laugh echoed in your ear, arms tugging you back, “Calm down! He’ll show up in three, two..”

Your squirming figure halted as you stared down in bewilderment at the purple haired male staring back at you from the gentle sways of the waves. Gold pectoral fins and rays shimmered on his neck, and he looked down to study the matching fins on his forearms, jolting in surprise at the lack of legs. His head snapped to his left, where two other sirens gaped, seeming paler than they were minutes ago.

Yeosang’s eyes snapped to you, his gaze already telling you he’s going to demand answers as soon as he’s in earshot.

San stood to your side, his eyes not leaving Wooyoung’s frame as he experimentally swam towards Yeosang and Seonghwa, both of whom hesitantly reached out to graze their clawed hands onto his tail, most likely wondering if it was real, “That’s why he was able to hear them..” you whispered softly, hands reaching up to rub at your eyes, before you cried loudly, startling the man beside you as you climbed onto the railing, arms waving madly at the three sirens, “Tell him I said he’s the prettiest siren I’ve ever seen!”

San grumbled underneath his breath, arms wrapping protectively around your waist to prevent you from falling over, “Can you try and not give me another heart attack, you bum.”

You and San returned to the tiny dinghy, your hands immediately reaching forward to touch and examine Wooyoung’s form in awe while San frantically explained everything to the impatient Yeosang. Wooyoung shot you a bashful look as you traced the gold rays and fins on his neck, before you peered closely at his now sharpened canines and iridescent, tan skin. He playfully attempted to bite your finger as you prodded his lip upwards.

‘You look like a diamond now.’

Someone cleared their throat, and the three of you turned to look up at a sheepish looking Hongjoong, who clutched the ship’s rope ladder, his frame facing you. Wooyoung’s head snapped up moments later.

“I know you said you already made plans to escape the town but.. I wouldn’t mind having the best swordsman of Aurora join me and Mingi on this ship,” Two pairs of brows raised in surprise at the suggestion, your eyes snapping to meet San’s instantly. The king turned to you, his half-unbuttoned, white blouse swaying with the gentle breeze, his eyes kind and warm.

“You’re not going back to Aurora?” you asked quietly, feeling San’s fingers coiling with your own.

“No,” he mused, chuckling at the sight of Mingi’s discarded tight, golden, guard coat onto the water below, “Mingi and I made a promise when we were younger, to one day escape and put our past lives behind. I have no future in Aurora, and certainly not you three after everything you’ve pulled. Even with my word, I can’t guarantee your safety from the noblemen in the town, so,” he shrugged nonchalantly, boot tapping the wooden deck, “I am in dire need of a swordsman and a..” he paused, studying you in silence, unable to conjure up a position.

“I’ll get rid of the rats on your ship, King Hongjoong,” you said suddenly, frame rushing forward to lean over the dinghy, face scrunched in all seriousness.

His hand shielded his face as soft chuckles wracked his frame, your shoulders slumping down while even San shot you a somewhat amused look, “Of course. You can be the designated rat killer. We also need to patch up that nasty cut on your ankle.”

Yeosang grimaced at the words, eyes hesitantly casting you a glance from where he floated.

“Wooyoung will come with us too, right?” You turned to glance at your friend, who clearly understood what was going on with the shocked and anxious expression he wore. Yeosang’s golden eyes snapped to you in an instant, a bitter frown tugging his lips down, “Wooyoung is part of our family. We can’t just leave him behind, siren or not.”

“He belongs in the ocean. He’s a siren,” quipped Yeosang, eyes darkening,”His place is in the water.”

“He’s family,” you argued back, eyes narrowing at the teal-tailed siren,”Whatever you two had going on was nice and all- but he’s still part of our family. We’re not leaving him behind. Siren or not, he’s still Wooyoung.”

“Maybe you should let him decide that.”

“Two good friends of mine in Port Hala are expecting us soon, actually. We’ll just drop by months in advance– they won’t mind, I’m sure,” Hongjoong leaned back against the hemp ladder, head tilting back and allowing the sunshine to envelop his delicate features, lips gracefully parting as he took sight of the sirens,”I think we have room for three more, as well.”

San shared a look of bewilderment with you, before looking back at the white haired male, who straightened up to quirk a brow at you, “Siren got your tongue?” Wooyoung’s eyes met your own before he gazed at Yeosang with a tearful, apologetic gaze.

Family cannot be replaced.

An airy gasp left your lips as his clawed hands reached to grasp the dinghy, before hauling himself into the boat with San’s help. You rushed to envelop him in a tight hug, face buried against the fins on his neck, San following suit moments later. Yeosang peered silently from the water, a hard look settling on his features, jaw tight and brows knitted.

His eyes flickered to San subconsciously.

“Yes,” he whispered, nodding with a wistful expression across his visage , “I’ll protect your son.”

The women’s sad eyes flickered to Wooyoung and then back to the siren, “Please, protect all three of them. I consider them my children as well.”

“I will. I promise.”

“I’m going wherever Wooyoung is going,” Yeosang quipped defensively, “Seonghwa is coming too.”

“What-” a startled cry left the other’s lips, his bewildered eyes boring holes into Yeosang’s head, “I never agreed to this ridiculous change of plans. A human cannot ever be trusted, Yeosang. You know better than that.”

Conflict flickered in the golden hues, gaze trained onto the black haired siren, until a voice from above caught his attention,” We’ll have rules against touching anyone’s coats if that helps. Anyone who touches or takes your coats will be thrown overboard with no questions asked. I can guarantee that,” Hongjoong simpered, nodding his head confidently.

“Are you really leaving?” Seonghwa gritted to Yeosang, the latter nodding his head in affirmation, “You stubborn bastard.”

“You finally have the opportunity to travel to all seven seas, and you’re going to throw it away just like that?” Yeosang quirked a brow, a knowing smile suddenly finding itself on his features as Seonghwa gives him an unimpressed look, “Besides, he’s certainly earned my trust after everything that’s happened.”

“Don’t use that against me.”

“You’ve wanted to since you were young. Guess I’ll just go live your dream then,” he shrugged absentmindedly, turning to flash Wooyoung a smile, “I’ll send you a seashell as-”

“Shut up already,” Seonghwa ran a hand through his dark locks, suddenly snapping his attention to the other humans, “If I ever find you trying to steal my coat, I’ll slice you and use your flesh as fish bait.”

San paled at the threat, and Hongjoong barked out a laugh, “You heard him, crew. Now, I suggest you all to come on board before the noblemen send an armada after us for not returning back to town.”

He blinked at the gaping, fearful expressions.

“That’s an order!”

You startled at the sudden volume, hand scrambling up to salute, San peering over at you in utter confusion, not knowing whether he should bow or salute, awkwardly doing both simultaneously.

“Yes, King Hongjoong!”

A streak of gold whizzed over your head, and at the sound of a splash behind you, your head snapped in surprise at the crownless man, a smirk displayed on his sharp features, “That’s Captain Hongjoong to you.”

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