#I found a new path to an empty beach! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shiny-jr · 8 months

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outlander

Warning: Yandere. Gender-neutral reader.

Characters: Riddle Rosehearts, Leona Kingscholar, Azul Ashengrotto, Kalim Al-Asim, Vil Schoenheit, Idia Shroud, Malleus Draconia.

Summary: In every land you travel to, there's a god with elemental powers. But why is it that in every nation you arrive to, the gods attempt to make you stay?

Note: Why has no one done a genshin x twst thing? This is more of a concept idea than anything else. I might do a series with it, or not, or just random posts. Feel free to ask about it or request stuff for it.

This must be a dream, either that or a never-ending nightmare.

Waking up alone on a sandy beach, as if washed ashore, was disorientating. There was nothing else on the shore save for shells and the occasional crab, no debris indicating a wreck and no scattered belongings. All you had on you were the clothes on your back, which were a pair of shorts and an oversized t-shirt, your pajamas.

In the center of your palms, was a marking you had never seen before, like a freshly painted tattoo in the shape of a tiny key. As curious as the strange new markings were and you wondered how they even got there, there was a larger question looming:

How did you get here?

GRIM

There was a cat on the beach. At least, it looked like a cat. A talking feline, with gray fur and the most impossible feature of blue fire lightly simmering in his ears.

It spoke, just like a human, with a grating high-pitched voice. It was a devilish little beast, with little fangs sharper than his comebacks that he supposed were funny.

The feline pridefully announced his name: Grim.

And when you told Grim your story of how you woke up by the water's edge with no recollection of how you got here and little to your name, the creature didn't appear to care. However, when he spoke of elements being used by people and names of nations and cruel living gods you never once heard of, only then was he very vaguely intrigued. Perhaps it was amusement, as he laughed and called you stupid for not even knowing of The Seven.

That's when you heard a growl, not from behind his fangs but from his stomach. If you looked at him from the right angle, he looked quite scrawny. The poor thing was hungry, you realized.

All it took was an offering of cans of tuna found in an empty cabin nearby, and you had him in your grasp. Following you around was only temporary, he insisted, he'd go along so long as there was food. While a talking cat was not the most conventional of guides, it was better than nothing, especially since he knew basic knowledge of each nation and where the nearest sign of civilization was located.

HEARTSLABYUL

Through the winding dark woods where mysterious creatures lurked in hollow trees and dead end paths, were meadows of flowers and peaceful grooves. However, don't let the tranquillity of nature fool you. In the distance were mountains– not actually mountains, but volcanoes and hot sprints along this land's border.

It's been said that the very millions of roses and other greenery in this land, was formed when ash rained down on dry barren earth for nearly a month. Ash from those very dormant volcanoes that were the backdrop to this perfect scenery, which came in huge black clouds thousands of years ago and blanketed the earth.

A god, an archon, the deity of law that rained hell on earth over thousands of years ago.

Long ago this land was a country of criminals ruled by a god of chaos that reveled in havoc and disorder. Among the mayhem, was a small deity of fire with mighty powers and a vision for a future he was determined to see. Riddle, is what the deity was called.

Riddle gained a number of followers to listen to his words, and he created order. A small feat compared to the many wicked still running about in a lawless land ruled by a god that valued anarchy. So, using newfound strength, the deity of fire drew forth molten lava from the mouths of the northern volcanos, burning all those in its path while the deadly plumes of smoke and ash suffocated those that remained. Atop the remains of the destroyed towns and cities, he built a new nation of order for his loyal followers.

Today, it is a thriving nation filled with flowers and greenery. However, there is one issue. The god of pyro, Riddle, is a tyrant. Every law is expected to be followed without question and without fail, beheadings have become nearly a daily occurrence with the criminals often being charged with mistakingly picking flowers on Wednesdays, drinking the wrong sort of tea post-meals, or playing croquet after five pm.

You were fortunate to be spared after your audience with the god of law, for breaking the rule: one must never bring a cat to a formal affair. Before he could burn you were you stood, you interjected, answering that your companion was no cat, so you had broken no rule.

Well, he promptly apologized for the misunderstanding and in turn, offered to make up for it by inviting you to a tea party. It would be best to except his invitation, afterall, he was the same deity that buried nearly an entire country in lava and ash, then built his kingdom atop their remains. He was a tyrant that beheaded and burned people on the daily. It was wise not to get on his bad side. Besides, he appears to have taken a fancy for you. Riddle implores that you tell him more of your world while you ignore the whispers of rebellion.

There is no leaving Heartslabyul, not without the explicit permission from the god of law. The borders with their volcanoes burn any would-be invaders, allowing passage only to merchants and travelers who have received the pyro deity's blessing. Why would Riddle ever give you his blessing to see you go?

SAVANACLAW

Across the volcanoes and hot springs of the borders, the mountains turn green with dense jungles. Across the river lies the savanna where the world's most wondrous creatures run free. Times have been turbulent, the shaking ground was evidence of troubles with this nation's divine beings, or rather, now single divine being.

Earthquakes have always been a sign of something occurring either for a purpose or unintentionally by someone else. The harsher the quake, the greater the importance of the event. And not too long ago, a ginormous tremor shook the entire globe. Something of major importance had happened.

A god, an archon, the deity of intellect was the new sovereign after tragedy befell his elder brother.

In the past the land was under the protection of the god of strength, a mighty god worshipped by his people. This god had a young heir who was also beloved by the people. However, most forgot or completely disliked the younger brother of the god of strength, a deity of ground, Leona, who had a burning hated for his brother.

Leona amassed followers of his own in secret. It came as no surprise that the common and the wealthy adored the exalted god of strength. However, the poor detested him, because he offered no help to them, no matter how much they prayed and offered what little they had to his alter. Instead, their prayers for mercy and for a change in luck, were answered by the deity of ground. The change of luck came from the death of the former god and his son, paving the way for a new sovereign.

Today, there is uncertainty in the street. Many of the former worshippers of the god of strength believe in one thing. The god of geo, Leona, is unfit to rule. The poor and mistreated have emerged from hiding places in the shadows, filled with newfound confidence for their was finally a god that answered their prayers. However, there remains a growing tension between both factions. Followers of the new god sing his praises, while followers who mourn for his brother believe that everything is falling into disarray.

You were promptly introduced to the god of intellect by his followers that wished to spread the good word. There was something wrong, you and your companion both agreed. How could a powerful god of strength and his young heir just perish without warning? Something was amiss.

This was just a new follower, at least in his eyes. So he brushed you off, allowing you to partake in the best food and drink only his followers had the privilege of receiving. Testing your luck, you decided you would ask him if he knew of a way home. For now you filled him in, explaining your origins and recent adventures. For such a conniving and arrogant leader, he was surprisingly lax. It even appeared as if he wasn't even listening to your words, just dozing off on some pillows. Your words were at least more interesting to him than the rumors of possible unrest.

Perhaps he does know a way for you to return home, but he doesn't want to tell you. It's as simple as that. He likes the new follower, you. Besides, you're not going. There is always the option of traveling further, but why do so when the geo deity has what you need? Leona greatly loathes betrayal from his own worshippers, so you wouldn't leave Savanaclaw to see another god, would you?

OCTAVINELLE

In the seas dwell creatures of unimaginable horrors living deep within the watery depths, across the ocean over turbulent waves there are islands of paradise. The chain of islands composed warm southern beaches and cold northern snowlands. This may be paradise, but a toll must be paid to even get near the islands.

A tax is applied to all arriving merchants wishing to trade and tourists wishing to step foot on the island. It doesn't make much sense, until you see their towns and cities bursting with trade. Business was booming, apparently. The water is clear and pristine, you could see the vibrant coral reefs and schools of fish swimming below.

A god, an archon, the deity of contracts once came from these very waters when there was no land.

Thousands of years ago there was nothing but ocean out this far away from the mainland. That is, until a deity of water appeared from the depths. He promised a new nation to traveling merchants, so long as they worshipped him. The deity introduced himself as Azul.

Azul had grown bored of the dull happenings under the sea, for he had achieved most things beneath the waves. The ocean could not satisfy his endless greed. He had his sights set on higher elevation, with the lofty goal of being just as powerful on land as he was in the ocean. He moved waves, creating tsunamis outward but revealing islands once hidden by water. The merchants took to land and fulfilled their end of the deal, worshipping him while creating a prosperous nation of deals.

In present day, hardly anyplace can compare to the thriving hub the nation has become. However, loyal followers have begun to see his greed. The god of hydro, Azul, is a charlatan. The ocean in all its vastness was not enough to satisfy his desires, it was why he took to land. For the promise of fulfilling prayers, something always must be given in turn or the worshippers must risk going on a quest. But, it is not always as it seems. One way or another, a prayer asking for something will end in the worshipper becoming in debt to him.

In exchange for an answer to the continued question of how to return home, you have nothing to offer for payment except for ideas. Home was modern, this world was not yet on par with the technology you knew. So you offer ideas of inventions, a device to capture an image in time, a mechanism like a box with wheels, a tool to contact someone miles away.

He believes you're quite bright, you think it false flattery to deceive you but you would be wrong. Your ideas are truly brilliant, and will no doubt earn him more millions and influence in other nations on the mainland! Best to take the compliment with a smile, or else this swindler may find a way to trap you in debt. Azul insists you tell him more of your home and your lucrative ideas. Here, a contract, where he shall sell your ideas as goods and you shall reap the rewards! Whatever hearsay you've heard painting him in a bad light, is defamation! Don't fall for it so easily.

Sailing away from Octavinelle would just be a fool's quest. Unless you can escape on a boat that can weather the harshest of sea storms, there is no stepping foot off the island without the risk of drowning. Don't you have more profitable ideas to share with the hydro deity? If not, just listening to your voice would make Azul content than all the gold in the world could.

SCARABIA

Rolling sand dunes stretch as far as the eye could see, and rocky canyons border a savanna. Sandstorms fill the skies like a dark cloud, covering the dry hot land in a new layer of sand once again. Struggle through the scorching days and blistering cold nights, and there will be an oasis in the center between large flowing rivers.

Life follows the flowing waters, and an enormous oasis is planted in the center of the desert. For miles and miles along the banks, are blooming cities and towns. A great contrast to the desert outside, these settlements are overflowing with water, with the greenest gardens and greatest crops.

A god, an archon, the deity of commerce that gave life to a once barren land.

Thousands of years ago, a terrible famine struck the land. All remaining oasis had shriveled up, leading to starvation. A kind-hearted deity of earth took pity on the people. So he decided to extend a helping hand. People would call the deity Kalim.

Kalim used his abilities to create a lush environment, a vast and incredibly rich oasis out of sand in the middle of the desert. When he walked, grass and flowers sprouted from the sand. In days, he managed to create a garden of tremendous size and design, where his new followers could live in peace and luxury by the rivers. Towns and cities were developed, giving way to a grand nation where he resided in comfort and extravagance, surrounded by people that adored him.

Now there is a grand metropolis where there is just as much gold in the markets as there are flowers. The god of dendro, Kalim, is naive. For thousands of years he has been sheltered and treasured by his people. He is oblivious and clumsy, but at the same time he is not foolish. He knows of the people that have attempted to use his abilities for sinister purposes. Although, no one could guess a conniving being plotting against him, resides in his very own palace.

Exciting adventures and thrilling tales, the god of commerce loves to hear your stories of the outside world! First time foreigners are welcomed with open arms, but you are treated as a rare guest with your unique origin. This might just be the most peaceful land you had ever traveled to.

Come, partake in the celebrations! It's easy to forget that such a laidback and cheerful personality belongs to that of a deity that gave life to this region of the desert. Dance, chat, he wishes to do it all with you! The brightness of the fireworks and lively atmosphere is nearly enough to drown out the presence in the shadows you see from the corner of your eyes. A figure with a piercing gaze, watching the jolly divine being with envy in their eyes. With a power as tempting as his, there would be those wishing to snatch it. Kalim distracts you, offering more food and drink with a smile sweeter than any flower.

Why would anyone ever wish to leave this garden that was Scarabia? The outside, the desert and canyons, were harsh and unforgiving. The god of commerce did not wish to see you risk traveling and getting hurt. The dendro deity invites you to stay in the city! Surely you could be happy here with Kalim, right?

POMEFIORE

On elevated lands, between mountains and hills, were endless forests in which travelers often vanished in or were discovered frozen. A winter wonderland, although this wasn't so delightful. It was beautiful, but a deadly kind of beautiful, where you risked being chased by mysterious beasts or becoming lost in blizzards.

The snow may be pure, it may look picturesque upon frozen lakes and lines of white trees, but looks are deceiving. This was once a serene land with a temperate climate, but it has only gotten colder and colder in more recent months until there was not a single spot of green to be seen.

A god, an archon, the deity of curses who was so bitter like the cold that he caused snow to fall all year round.

Stories have told that the land was once warm in springs and summers, only growing cold whenever the divine being was cross. They were frighteningly beautiful and terrifyingly powerful, regal as royalty but at times wrathful. Vil, is what the deity was referred to.

Vil became envious of an emerging figure, so he invoked powerful blizzards and storms. In recent generations, there have been a growing number of his people breaking off into a separate faction that worshipped a younger compassionate god of healing. Enraged by the betrayal of some followers and resentful with biting jealously, many knew that it was only a matter of time before he would snap. This frightening divine being would not accept being dethroned, he would not allow himself to be demoted in the people's hearts.

Civilization continued to thrive, even despite the never-ending snow. And yet, people cannot help but worry what may happen if the cold doesn't let up by spring. The god of cryo, Vil, was pretentious. Anyone who openly voices their distaste for him or a preference for the god of healing, can expect to be encased in ice and used as a display. No one dares to even utter the name of his rival, for fear of incurring his wrath.

Misfortune brought you before the god of curses' throne. Mistakingly his followers had believed you to be worshippers of the god of healing, which you insisted not to know of. You had simply been lost. Maybe it was your gawking at his ethereal appearance, or the compliment you murmured under your breath, but you were not frozen a punishment.

He decided to interrogate you himself, and through his stern questioning you found yourself a nervous mess as you answered honestly but blabbered far too much. Maybe this deity was amused, much like a king would find humor in a pathetic little jester. The divinity that froze nonbelievers into statues for his palace, found you quite endearing. Vil even once smiled at you when you spoke of inconsequential things, warming his heart to which the clouds carrying snow broke apart if for a moment, causing his followers to go into a frenzy fueled by hope.

When leaving Pomefiore is so much as even mentioned, all exits will be frozen shut by the god of curses. Why even venture outside the palace, when you have earned the favor of the cryo deity? Perhaps the land is warmer, but the neighboring nation is dangerous and he forbids the journey. Why would anyone leave after finally melting Vil's icy cold heart?

IGNIHYDE

A forest of dead trees serves as an ominous welcome, or perhaps it was an omen warning incoming travelers. Slopes gave way to valleys, and along the coasts was a heavy mist that painted the vision gray. Homes and buildings, magnificent temples and crumbling feats of architecture, appeared to be floating in white clouds, but in reality they were situated on cliffsides thick with fog.

In the center of the dying forest, there are ruins of a grand temple once belonging to a god that met a tragic end. However, its remnants are closely guarded by mysterious creatures of air that cannot be touched. Legends say the temple was once a place of worship for a fledgling god related to the main god the nation worships today.

A god, an archon, the deity of innovation that has never once shown his face to the public.

Thousands of years ago, a pair of divine beings appeared. They went largely unnoticed for many years, until their brilliant inventions brought awe to those around them, attracting worshippers and diminishing the power of other local gods. The one remaining brother from this pair, is a deity known as Idia.

Idia created wondrous inventions, unintentionally forming a nation of inventors in the process. Withdrawn, dark, and silent, he is quite the unconventional god and yet he begrudgingly rules nonetheless. As reserved as he may be, he is feared among divinity. All lesser gods aiming for his spot are quickly wiped out by his inventions, without him so much as lifting a finger and using his own abilities. They're reduced to mere memories, as nothing is left of them. In times of old, it was once believed that he was a harbinger of death.

On decent days, the sun may shine on the coast, but most days there are heavy clouds and fog. The god of anemo, Idia, is an enigma. Most think him a ghost, for never appearing and for his abilities. The highest families, the most brilliant inventors, even other divine beings may request an audience, but he will never show. No one has ever seen him, all that's known is he is a figure shrouded in black robes like a grim reaper. There are others who believe there are double, because two figures have been spotted once.

You become the first to see his face purely by accident. It seemed he was just as startled of you, as you were of him. Thankfully, you were not going to be blown off the face of the planet by hurricane-level winds. No other god would help, in fact, they wished to keep you here. So you had to turn to him for assistance in finding a way home.

It was only by promising that he could pet Grim, a deal to which the feline disagreed to, did the god reluctantly hear you out. After your explanation, he scoffed as if looking at a simple equation like 2 + 2. Of course he knew the answer, but he wouldn't give out the assistance you needed. The deal was to hear you out, not help you out. He'd become quite bold in the private conversation, a sharp contrast to his previous anxious demeanor. There was no arguing against he who could slaughter gods with a snap of his fingers. Although you aren't as intolerable as other mortals, this he admits.

Departing from Ignihyde is highly unlikely, given how dense the fog is. You cannot even see the ground you're walking on. While, yes, the anemo deity hasn't assisted you, he will, eventually, probably, maybe... You're the first mortal Idia has ever asked to stay, so why would you turn your back to him?

DIASOMNIA

A wall of impenetrable thorns stands in the way, magically opening and creating a clear-cut path through dense forbidding forests lively with critters. The thorn walls close, effectively trapping you. There was something different. It was unlike all the previous nations, the very air itself felt off. With every step deeper into these whimsical woods, it felt as if you were not alone.

Once upon a time, there was a dragon. No one knows how long the dragon has been alive, only that even the oldest tales say he was already ancient way back when. Valleys were shaped by his claws, the rivers from his tail, rare ore came from his fallen scales buried in the earth, the tallest mountains were but small hills to him.

A god, an archon, the deity of dreams is by far the most powerful and most ancient of all divinity in the world.

Peace was his personal preference, as he enjoyed new company which he never truly received due to his fearsome reputation. However, when other divinity sought out his destruction and his home, the deity of electricity raged. Destruction was left in his wake across the entire globe, and everyone came to know the name Malleus.

Malleus commanded thorns to be raised like walls protecting his home, and constant violent storms to ward off anyone threatening to cause trouble. For hundreds of years, no foreigner was allowed to step foot within the nation's boundaries. Anyone that tried would quickly be reduced to ash, and just a number added to the untold amount he's slayed in order to protect himself and his territory. Kind he may be to his own, but to foes he is merciless. With his black horns and piercing eyes, some refer to him as a devil incarnate.

A land unseen by outlanders, it's peaceful and magical in it's beauty. However, it seems that while your presence may be surprising, it is not a shock. You're taken by knights in gray and black, escorted away. The god of electro, Malleus, has invited you to his castle. There is astonishment and disbelief in people's eyes, a foreigner alive and well. Most like you would have been reduced to particles before they could even step foot past the thorns.

Much to your horror, or relief, once you're brought to the god of dreams, he seems delighted to have you here. It seems your presence was expected, as all he said was, "So you've finally come to see me, hm? I was beginning to grow concerned that perhaps I would have been left out of your list of destinations."

This was the last option, the only one you could turn to in finding a way home. Surely, the most ancient and powerful deity would hold the answer and assist you, since he had been so kind as to allow you inside his nation. Although as welcoming as he may be, you must remember that despite his fang-toothed smile and the twinkle in his eyes, this man– no, god, was archaic and all-powerful. He must have killed more people than you will ever know, wiped out whole armies and flattened entire nations. Malleus tilts his head at you, requesting that you recount your tale, with every minute detail.

This will be the end, there will be no escaping Diasomnia. Of course, you shall not know until later. For now, the god of dreams delights in your stories. You were the first guest he's had in thousands of years, and one of the few who did not wish to slay the legendary dragon that was the electro deity. Malleus knows what you desire, he has seen it in your dreams. However, he will not be kind and grant you what you sought. If he did, then what he desired would then vanish: you.

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mattslolita · 29 days

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𝑺𝑬𝑬 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑨𝑮𝑨𝑰𝑵 ( 𝒄. 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒃! )

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔

chris had drifted away from his brothers, nate, madi, and laura, as his blue eyes traveled around the scenery before him, which was the empty beach that laid out before him. beautiful palm trees swayed in the distance, and the soft calls of the seagulls made for a good lullaby as the sun was currently setting on the horizon.

figuring he could find his way back to where he came from, chris decided to walk down towards the area where rocks lay — the waves gently crashed against the rough rocks, a peaceful feeling overtaking him as he lets out a content sigh. the sunset cast warm hues of orange and a looming darker blue color as it reached the peak where the sun met water.

and as he was walking down the path, he seen her.

her beautiful brown skin glowed against the water droplets which shimmied down her body, as she ran her fingers through her braided locs carefully, so that the current pink flower which resided in her hair, didn't fall out.

he was immediately encapsulated by the girl's beauty and something inside him was pulling him towards her, his body was signaling, 'go, chris!'.

and so he does just that, careful not to scare her as he approaches — he can now see that she makes her way towards her blanket which had her belongings on it, as well as a spread of various freshly picked fruits.

out of her peripheral vision, she can see the lonesome boy approaching her, causing a warm smile to grace her lips as her eyes rove over his handsome features. his brown locs were tucked messily under a white backwards cap he wore, a chain on his wrist as his blue eyes had found her soft earthy browns, a look of curiosity behind them.

"would you like to sit here?" her voice soft as honey, and he immediately decides it's the most beautiful sound he's ever heard.

"only if you'll have me," the boy says to her with a small grin, to which she smiles and pats the space next to her.

she scoots over, and as he's sitting down he can see the green bikini set that hugs all her curves beautifully, and he finds himself sneaking glances at her as she looks out at the sunset before them, her hands perched in her lap as she smiles softly.

"i'm here on vacation with my parents," she tells him, her eyes not leaving the scenery in front of her. "i would much rather be here than at the small club they found, enjoying this beauty God has to offer."

"i definitely agree with that," he nods, looking out into the view as well, "i think hawaii is one of my new favorite vacation spots."

"what's your story?" she asks him, her eyes looking at him curiously as she tilts her head.

"do you mean why did i come here?" he asks her slightly confused, to which she gives a soft giggle.

"it can mean whatever you decide to tell me."

he smiles at the girl beside him, as she picks up a freshly cut strawberry and lifts it to her lips, taking a bite of the fruit. "my brothers and best friend are here for our friend madi's birthday."

"that sounds lovely," she whispers, humming as she chews on the fruit. "i made a few friends here and there, but they seemed to come and go."

"how much longer are you here for?" chris asks her hopefully.

"i have another week here," she smiles at him, offering him her plate of fruit, which he gratefully accepts, "what about you guys?"

"tomorrow's our last day here," he admits disappointedly, around a mouthful of canteloupe.

"it's too bad i won't see you again then," she sighs, her eyes finding the now set sun.

a comfortable silence engulfs the two, as the sky is now tinged with the faintest traces of orange, and instead replaced mostly with warm blue and purple tones. it feels nice to soak up the comfort chris finds within this mystery girl, and he wants nothing more than to stay here in this moment with her forever. he's entranced by her enamoring, yet calm nature, and he finds himself wishing he could know every little detail about her — her favorite color, her favorite movie, what sports she's into — anything that comes to his mind.

"oh my gosh, did we lose chris?"

"where the fuck did he wonder off to?"

"uh oh, that sounds like your search party," she giggles, rubbing her shoulder against his, and it's as if he feels an electric shock from her touch. "i think you'd better get going."

his eyes downcast slightly as he lets out a sigh. "before i go, which fruit is your favorite?"

"in general, or from my plate here?" she asks him with a tilt of her head, to which he chuckles.

"it's whichever you choose," he tells her, mirroring her previous words.

"they're blackberries," she answers with a grin, throwing a stray braid behind her ear, as he begins to pull out his phone. "but what does that have to do with anything?"

"can i have your number, too?" he overlaps her question, causing her to raise an eyebrow but she gently takes his phone from his hand nevertheless and types her number in.

she hands it back to him, and he angles his screen away from her with a mischievous smile as he types something really quickly, then he turns back to her. "it was really nice meeting you."

she smiles and leans into his cheek, pressing a soft kiss to it — he almost gasps at the soft feeling of her plump, glossed lips against his skin. she pulls away with a grin. "it was nice meeting you, too."

with a goofy grin adorning his lips, he stands up and begins to walk away from her, looking back to cast her one final wave, which she returns brightly.

she looks out into the dark ocean, humming under her breath. "chris," she whispers quietly, finding a smile creeping onto her face.

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short-honey-badger · 5 months

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Peppermint Tea 16- Lavender 1

Alright, guys. I really hope you enjoy how I've gone about introducing Shanks to the reader. I'm not looking to complicate anything. I just want to have fun, and my two handsome boys deserve it.

Pairings. Reader x Shanks, Reader x Dracule Mihawk

Warnings! None. Shanks is flirty. Mihawk is only mentioned for now.

Masterlist

Shanks doesn’t expect to see an island this far out of the way of everything. It’s unnervingly close to the calm belt, and the Yonko probably would have never found it if he and his crew hadn’t been on a three-day bender after a successful raid on the last island. Maybe it was a little irresponsible of him and his crew, but sometimes he just liked to see where the Grand Line would take them. This tiny island was new, so that obviously meant that he and his crew should check it out.

Lucky Roux drops the anchor, and Shanks flashes to shore with his first and second mates. The island is on the smaller side, though a small mountain range rises in the west. The jungle is thick, and Shanks can hear all manner of wildlife within. The sands of the long beach they’ve landed on are beautiful and inviting, prompting a big grin to stretch over the redhead's face, “Get the booze, Benn. I think this will be the perfect place.”

The older man scoffs at his captain, but he has already turned around to begin shouting orders to the men. Shanks and Yasopp step further into the island, and that’s when the Yonko spots a small footpath that leads into the jungle. He nods his head to the path, and Yasopp unhooks his pistoles from his belt.

The two men follow the footpath for a while. It winds through the thick foliage until it empties out into a clearing. The sight isn’t something either man is expecting.

A cottage sits innocently in the middle of the clearing. Several sea glass wind chimes hang from the front stoop, and the tinkling melody is pleasant on his ears. Three chickens are clucking around, and even a moody-looking goat glares at them from its pen. A massive garden sits on the left side of the building, and Shanks can see smoke rising from the chimney. Yasopp gives his captain a look, only to jerk back around when they hear the door of the cottage swing open.

Shanks can hear music playing loudly from inside, a slow, bluesy tune that has his browns rising. No wonder whoever lived here had not heard the commotion he and his men made. A massive furry, grey mutt comes running out of the house, going straight after the chickens and sending the hens flying into the air. The rooster crows and chases after the dog, sending the mutt careening backward to run the other way. Last but not least, Shanks watches a young woman step out of the house.

His heart speeds up when he sees her. She is stunning, the sunlight bouncing off her hair and making her glow in the morning light. She is dressed in tight leggings and a loose but thick-looking sweater poncho, and Shanks wonders why the young woman would want to dress that way in such warm weather. He dismisses the thought and starts walking forward, a grin on his face as he opens his mouth to shout a greeting.

“Hello! We didn’t know that this island had already belonged to someone. We saw the foot trails at the beach and wanted to investigate.”

Shanks watches as you freeze in place, and his eyes widen just a tad when he sees snow flurries scatter around you. Huh, a devil fruit user all the way out here. He plasters an easy smile on his face and saunters forward only to stop when he catches the glare on the young woman’s face. He raised his hand in the air to show that he meant no harm.

“We didn’t mean to frighten you! I just wanted to see if it would be okay if my crew and I could crash here for a little while. Can I come closer to introduce myself and my friend here?”

The shaggy mutt seems to answer for you as he bounds forward and slams into Shanks. He grunts and keeps his footing, bending down to pet the dog, “You sure got a friendly mutt!”

You grimace as you watch your fool of a dog run right up to the red-haired stranger. You stomp forward, annoyed at having your day ruined by some unknown captain and his crew, but at least he was being friendly. You examine the man when you get close enough, taking in his beach bum outfit and shaggy red hair. His face is scruffy with unruly facial hair, and he has three scars over his left eye. When the wind blows, his cloak opens enough that you get a peek at the empty space on his left side. The way he held himself reminded you interestingly enough of Mihawk. Maybe that’s why you decided to humor the pirate.

“His name is Hank. How um. How long would you and your crew want to stay here?” You ask him as you come to a stop a safe distance away. The last people to come to your island had been the pirates that Mihawk had taken care of, so it unnerved you to have someone else show up.

Shanks shrugs, “For as long as you tolerate us,” he says with a handsome grin. You fight down the way your cheeks heat up when he directs that look right at you. He stands and offers you his hand, “I’m Shanks, and that’s my second mate, Yasopp.”

You reach to shake his hand, and a feeling of Deja vu settles over you when he lifts your hand to place a kiss on your knuckles. Shanks winks at you, lips curling in a teasing smirk when you jerk your hand away from him. Quietly, you offer your name and give a small smile to Yasopp.

Shanks repeats your name slowly, tasting each syllable as he watches you step away. Your goat has escaped its pen and now stands at your side, beady eyes seeming to stare into his soul. You drop your hand on top of its head and scratch at where the horns grow out of its head, “Oh, this is Neal. He isn’t very fond of men, so you may want to steer clear of him.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Shanks snickers and waves Yasopp away, “Go on back to the ship. Tell the others that we are guests here.”

The dark-skinned man grinned and gave a quick salute and a goodbye to you before he loped off back through the jungle.

Now alone, Shanks shifts his weight and gives you an assessing look, “So. What’s a beautiful girl like you doing all alone on an island so close to the Calm Belt?”

You lick your lips, filing the new bit of information away for later. Dracule had yet to tell you where your island was located. You had stopped asking a long time ago for maps and topography graphs, especially after Mihawk had told you about the more dangerous places and players inside the Grand Line. You were happy on your island, but that didn’t mean that you didn’t want to know where you were.

But now that you thought about it, you were 80% sure that the man in front of you was one of the few people that Dracule had warned you about. Red Haired Shanks, Captain of the Red Force, and one of the four Emporers of the Sea.

“I live here, have my whole life,” you tell him and settle for being vague. If Dracule told you to be wary, then be wary you would be.

Shanks makes a huh sound in the back of his throat, “Really? Seems pretty lonely out here,” He comments, and you shrug as an answer, “Will you show me around? You’ve got a lovely home.”

You can’t help but burn in pride at his comment. You are very fond of your home and all the work you’ve put into it, so you don’t think twice when you nod and begin to lead the captain to your home. Shanks follows with a smug grin, eyes flickering over your shapely legs as he follows you.

You don’t take him inside yet. Instead, you point out the gardens and flower beds that line your home and show him the view from the cliff behind the cottage. Neal had thankfully wandered back into his pen, but Hank seemed to have taken a liking to Shanks, for the big lug had yet to leave the pirate's side. You shoot him a look. Traitor.

Surprisingly, the redhead makes good conversation after getting over the awkwardness of the sudden visitation, and you find yourself relaxing in his presence. He seemed genuine in his goodwill and cheer, and his lax behavior had you smiling and inviting him inside.

“Would you like some tea?” You ask after a moment of comfortable silence. Shanks easily agrees, and you lead him inside your home. Neal bleats and tries to bite Shanks when he passes the pen, and the redhead shoots the goat a glare.

You snicker at the sight and go about the kitchen to make your guest some tea. You avoid the peppermint, which is meant specifically for Mihawk, and instead settle on a strong lavender tea. You mix in sugar for both mugs and then hand it off to Shanks.

Shanks sips, humming at the taste and finding it not bad. He wasn’t usually a tea person, but he could be polite. He looks around your home, taking in the hanging herbs and the strings of peppers that crisscross by your windows. Your home looks straight out of a storybook, and the homey atmosphere has him sighing deeply, shoulders loose and relaxed. Shanks doesn’t remember the last time he felt like this in someone else’s presence. He takes another sip of the sweet-tasting drink and casts his eyes to the opening of the living room, and his gaze promptly zeros in on a familiar-looking coat.

It's a long coat, dark and made out of fine leather with intricate patterns sewn into the arms and along the sides. The inside is a deep dead, and Shanks knows in that instant that this is the young woman that his friend had spoken of all those months ago. No, he corrects, it’s been close to a year since the last time the two men had spoken. Two emotions war inside of him at once. Elation that this is the woman who had caught Mihawk's attention and pure green envy that the other man had found you first.

Shanks keeps his face clear of anything that might give him away and then knocks back his tea, placing it in the sink to be washed at a later time. You eye his sudden movements, and Shanks responds with an easy grin and a hand extended out to you. The pirate wouldn’t dare try and steal you away from his friend, but there was nothing wrong with the two of you getting to know one another in his eyes.

“Come meet my crew?” The redhead offers quietly. There is pressure in the air as if taking Shanks’ hand would open a new chapter in your life. You debate for a long time, looking up and catching his dark gaze. His eyes are like melted chocolate, so soft and inviting, and so much different from the only other man you know.

What would Mihawk think of you out there on the beach, mingling with a dangerous pirate crew? You knew who this man was and knew some of the rumors about him from Mihawk and Perona. But then you think, harder, and know that Dracule would never begrudge you having fun. He actively encouraged it whenever you became playful, though it was usually Perona that he would send after you.

You lick your lips and make a decision, reaching out to take Shanks’ hand.

“Okay. Just for a bit, though.”

Shanks grins like a hyena and wraps his fingers tight around your hand, “Sure thing, baby. Let’s go.”

The pirate captain tugs you out of your kitchen and then out of your home entirely, leading you down the path and to the beach so quickly that you don’t have the time to examine the new pet name or how it makes you feel. The redhead leads you to where his crew has already laid out cases of booze and food. Shanks grins at you and tugs you close, flurries exploding around the two of you when you fall into his side. He enjoys the wide-eyed look that you shoot him and then turns you towards his crew.

“Guys,” Shanks announces and winks, sending your cheeks up in flames, “this is,_, our host!”

@writingmysanity @kenkenmaaa @foggyturtleknightangel @browneyedhufflepuff @goth-mami-writer @myradiaz @fluffybunnyu @bookandstar

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differenteagletragedy · 6 months

Note

swap au: the boy across the street is Baxter, the boy who lives far away but is still your friend is Cove, and the boy who comes for but one summer is Derek.

When I tell you the powerful and immediate urge I had to rewrite the entire dang game with this ... this is so much fun, thank you!!!

You could hear the new neighbors moving in at your spot behind your house. You'd thought about taking a peek to see what kind of people they were like, but decided to stay out of the way, watching clouds on the poppy hill instead. With how nosy your moms had been after the "for sale" sign disappeared, you'd be learning about them soon enough.

After a while, the clouds stopped holding your attention and you stood, looking for a new activity. Before you knew it, you were making your way to the shore -- there was always something to do there.

When you arrived, the typically empty beach wasn't quite as empty as it usually was. Up near the path, away from the water but still on the sand, was a boy. He looked to be your age, maybe a little older. He hadn't heard you approach, and was instead staring straight ahead at the ocean.

"Hi," you said, and you quickly broke whatever spell he was under. "I haven't seen you around before."

"That would be because I just moved here," he said. He pulled on the hem of his shirt, then smiled at you, extending a hand. "My name is Baxter Ward."

At the time, you thought it was weirdly formal, something grown-ups did to greet each other, not kids. But over time, as you got to know him and all his quirks, you looked back at the moment fondly.

That summer, he became your best friend.

You took to each other immediately, and if you had it your way you would've have spent every waking minute together. Sometimes Baxter couldn't hang out though -- he didn't talk about it much, but he seemed sad sometimes when he talked about his parents, and the few times you spoke with them you got the feeling they didn't like you very much.

But Baxter, as oddly formal as he was, wasn't afraid to break rules. And after a meeting between his parents and yours that didn't seem to go so well, your moms were quick to welcome him whenever he wanted to come over. You were able to get close.

By the time the summer was over, you could hardly remember what life was like before he came into it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Five years later, you were 13, and Baxter was still your best friend. He went to a private school while you went to the public one, and from what little he told you about it, he didn't really have friends there. It was a boring place to be, he told you, and he'd much rather be spending time with you than with those spoiled rich kids.

He never bothered noting that he was also a spoiled rich kid.

One day, the two of you were in your bedroom, wasting away a day together. He was lying comfortably on your bed and you were sitting at the foot of it, leaned against the window he regularly used for secret visits -- when he didn't want to hear his parents complain about him spending so much time with you, he found it easier to just slip away unnoticed.

"There's a boy coming over today," he mentioned, ending a comfortable silence. "I think you'll find him interesting."

"If you think he's interesting, then I'm officially scared," you teased.

He smirked in response. He was proud.

Over the past few months, Baxter had started getting more experimental with his fashion. He'd always dressed a bit preppy, and that hadn't changed much, but now he was moving towards clothes that were only black and white. He'd shown you a few more alternative pieces he'd ordered, things that matched the color scheme but were a little more out there, but he hadn't had the nerve to wear them out yet.

"He's the son of a business partner of my father's," he explained of the mystery boy. "I've met him a few times before, he's very shy."

"Then why do you think I'll think he's interesting?" you asked.

"He's also very cute."

You blushed, and he laughed.

You'd had a crush on him for a while, and you couldn't tell if he knew, or if he might like you back, but it was certainly clear that he enjoyed teasing you about anything even remotely related to dating. It always flustered you, but he enjoyed that, too.

He opened his mouth to say anything else, but before he could, the door to your room opened and Liz popped her head in.

"Some kid is at the door asking for you," she told Baxter. "I didn't realize you'd officially moved in."

"Thank you for the warm welcome, sis," he said easily, then stood and looked at you.

"Let's go," he said. "That would be the boy of the hour."

He held out a hand to help you off the bed, and, blushing again, you took it. There was that smirk again, but this time he chose to let it go.

When you went downstairs and to the door, you saw the boy had retreated back towards the street, looking uncomfortable. He was tall and gangly with bright green hair and glasses, and Baxter had been right -- he was cute.

"Cove!" your friend called out brightly, leading you over for an introduction. The boy, Cove, held up his hand in a slight wave. He was nervous.

But as awkward as Cove was, he managed to work his way into your cozy little friend group of two, turning it into a trio.

At one point during the summer, you and Cove had exchanged phone numbers. His father -- his parents were divorced and he lived in another neighborhood with his dad -- was much more easygoing than Baxter's parents, so you were able to visit him quite a bit.

You were even invited over for a sleepover, which Baxter had been surprised about. He'd reacted strangely when you told him about it, it seemed -- you weren't sure if he was upset that his parents had never let you stay over, or if it was something about you getting close to Cove. But in the end, he'd put on his old friendly smile and told you to have fun.

When your moms dropped you off at Cove's house, he greeted you at the door and invited you in, as awkward as the day you had met.

"It was my dad's idea, to ask you to stay over," he explained as you made your way to his room to hang out. "Not that I don't want you to stay over! It was just his idea is all."

"Why would he want me to stay over?" you asked.

He turned to face you as you came to a stop in his bedroom, but he kept his eyes down. He started rubbing his arm, a nervous tick you'd picked up on pretty quickly.

"I don't ... I mean, I don't really have many friends, I guess," he said. "My dad wants me to have more. I think he worries about it."

"Why didn't you ask Baxter?"

"My dad doesn't like his dad," he said.

That made sense to you. You didn't like Baxter's dad either.

Cove didn't live in your neighborhood, but he still lived near a beach. You walked there together and spent most of the evening there, and when you went back, his dad had cooked you dinner.

Throughout the day, he had loosened up, but when it was time for bed, he started getting shy again. His father had laid out two sleeping bags side by side on the living room floor, and after you both got into them, he didn't say a word.

"Cove?" you asked.

He didn't say anything. You turned to face him, sure he hadn't been able to fall asleep that quickly. In the faint light coming in from the kitchen, you saw his eyes wide open, and maybe a tiny bit of color on his cheeks.

"Are you all right?"

He turned his head toward you slightly, not enough to make eye contact, and said, "Yeah."

It wasn't very convincing.

It was your turn to stay quiet -- you weren't sure what to say. Then, without further prompting, he turned to face you too. He met your eyes.

"I get nervous around you," he said plainly. "More than other people. That's why I don't say stuff sometimes."

"Oh," you replied. Then, "Why?"

He shrugged, a decidedly non-romantic gesture, but it still tugged at your heartstrings.

He ended up changing the subject, and you laid there together for a long time, whispering about what you'd done that day and what you wanted to do tomorrow, what you wanted to do with your lives. It was nice, and when you finally fell asleep, you thought maybe you could see Cove being in your life for a long time.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Five more years went by, and more big changes came with them.

Baxter was your best friend and still your neighbor -- for the time being. You'd graduated high school and were now adults, and you knew he was desperate to get out of his parents' home.

Cove was still important to you, though you'd been seeing him less and less. His father had cut professional ties with Baxter's, and there was a bit of bad blood there. He'd also decided he wanted to go to college to study marine biology, which was no big surprise, but it did mean that a lot of his free time went to studying.

You weren't sure what exactly you wanted to do, but at the beginning of the summer, an opportunity for a quick adventure before diving into real adulthood presented itself, almost literally on your doorstep.

Gossip spread easily in Sunset Bird, and your moms had heard that the newly vacant condo next door to Baxter's house had been rented. They were eager to see who was coming into the neighborhood, but because they had to leave for work before anything happened, they asked you and Baxter, who was almost always over, to keep an eye out.

Baxter agreed before you could say anything. He'd always done anything your moms asked. You thought it was because he was thankful that they'd unofficially adopted him as their third child.

The two of you settled outside on your front step, waiting and chatting idly about some nonsense he'd made up about who the new neighbor would be. He was really getting into the details when a cab pulled up across the street, and a guy who looked to be about your age stepped out.

"This is not what I expected," Baxter whispered to you before letting his mouth hang open.

You watched as the newest resident of your tiny town moved to the back of the car, opening the trunk and easily pulling out a suitcase. He was all muscles and tan skin and had such a big smile as he tipped the driver. The cab left, and the stranger must have felt your eyes on him, because he turned to you then and smiled even wider.

"Hey, neighbors!" he called out, sounding as friendly as he looked. He started making his way over, and you saw bright green eyes twinkling at you.

Baxter stood, sticking his hand out to help you up. You took it, and he used his other hand to smooth his black and white hair.

"My name's Derek," the guy said holding out a hand to you the same way Baxter had when you first met him ten years before. You shook it, and he smiled directly at you before moving to shake your friend's hand as well.

You and Baxter introduced yourselves, then Baxter asked, "So, Derek, what brings you into our tiny neck of the woods?"

"I'm on vacation," he answered. "Well, kind of. I play college soccer, and there's a coach in the city that's really good, I'm going to work with him this summer. My parents wanted me to have an actual vacation too though, so ..."

He finished his thought by gesturing to his condo.

"I see," Baxter said, and you could hear it in his voice already -- he was turning the charm on. "Well, you know what they say about all work and no play. If you ever feel the need to play, don't hesitate to find us."

Ten years of friendship, and Baxter could still make you blush. If Derek was taken aback by his forwardness, he didn't show it -- instead, he laughed openly.

"I'll keep that in mind," he said. You thought you saw him sneak a glance at you as his smile turned smaller, but you weren't sure.

You learned quickly that Derek was serious about his work. He left for long stretches to go into the city for his private training, and you frequently saw him out for runs around the neighborhood.

But he also, it seemed, had taken a liking to you.

One evening, he knocked on your door. You were home alone, so naturally you were the one to answer, and he was there, as always, with a big grin on his face.

"Hey!" he said. "I totally get if you have plans, but if not I thought I'd come check to see if you wanted to hang out?"

"I'm free," you told him.

"Cool. Do you wanna come over?"

When you paused, he quickly continued, telling you, "Oh no, I'm not ... I'm not trying to ... do you like video games?"

A few minutes later, you were sitting next to Derek on his couch, starting up a game of MarioKart.

His composure regained, he said, "I hope you know I'm not going to take it easy on you."

"Why would I think you'd take it easy on me?" you laughed, looking at the tv to choose your character.

"Pretty people always think they can get their way."

That stopped you in your tracks. You glanced over at him, and he was smiling at you.

"You would know," you replied, trying to return the compliment.

As you played, you both found little ways to get closer to each other. Once he scooted over to show you which button to press to do a certain move, and soon after you'd done the same, pretending like you'd forgotten.

After a particularly intense race, it happened -- you finally beat Derek. He'd stayed true to his word and hadn't taken it easy on you, beating you time after time, but now, you'd bested him.

You stood up enthusiastically, cheering for yourself, and ever the gentleman, he stood up as well to cheer along with you.

The next thing you knew, he had his strong arms around your waist, and yours had gone up around his neck. He leaned in a bit, then paused.

"I like you," he said softly, "and I think it would be nice to kiss you. But I'm going back to college in a couple of months, and --"

"A couple of months is enough for me," you told him.

He smiled again, then kissed you. It was gentle and sweet, and over far too soon.

"I'm thinking I should probably make a little bit more time this summer for playing," he said, giving you a smirk that could almost rival Baxter's.

#our life beginnings and always #our life #olba #baxter ward #cove holden #derek suarez #our life baxter #our life cove #our life derek #i cannot emotionally handle how much i love this #imagine the ghost moment with baby baxter #the rv moment with baxter #the boardwalk with cove #mountain scene with derek #DEREK'S GOODBYE ARE YOU KIDDING

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thelightsandtheroses · 9 months

Text

Two: there goes the fear again

Your Hand In Mine | Joel Miller x female reader

Summary: When Joel finds you on your self-assigned insomnia bench one night, it sparks an unexpected friendship that quickly develops into more. Finding peace in the middle of an apocalypse always seemed impossible, but being with Joel feels natural, like a missing piece has fallen into place at last. When a ghost from your past threatens to destroy the peace you’ve found in Jackson, everything will change.

Word Count – 4.3k Chapter Warnings - 18+ blog minors DNI, description of a nightmare, insomnia, mentions of Salt Lake City, reader had a backstory and her age is not specified but an age range is lightly implied in this chapter, secondary characters and ocs, reader is a parent. Notes: Thank you so much for the kind feedback and comments so far - I’ve been honestly quite blown away by it all. As it's Joel's birthday today, I wanted to push myself to get this chapter out. So happy birthday Joel, sorry about the outbreak? 😂 Chapter title is from There Goes the Fear Again by Doves.

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The memories come back to you in flashes, framed with distorted static like an old VHS. They usually start in the years Before, nostalgia tinged memories that lull you into a false sense of security that tonight may not be so bad.

Sometimes you welcome it, the reminder of your family and life before. It was normal, it was filled with love and normality and peace. You had problems, like anyone else, but schoolyard bullies, your roommate and class assignments seem so trivial compared to what the world is now.

You’re by the beach, listening to the soothing rhythm of the waves, watching Sean surf as you pretend to study, scrunch your toes in the sand. You can feel the heat of the sun of your skin, the way you scrunch your toes in the sand and want to soak in every moment of this summer. You daydream of what’s going to happen once you start college. Will Sean still be your best friend as your paths start to digress? Will anyone even like you there?

You were still agonising about those trivialities on the night that the world ended right in front of you. In hindsight, you’ll notice the signs in front of you that day that something was coming, something was wrong. It was just a normal day though. The last one. You remember it all. So much loss, so many mistakes, so much fear. The memory of your family; of the last conversations you had with them, of how unsatisfactory that was.

Then it’s you and Sean and his little sister, Isabella, and you’ve got to find a new path. College feels like lifetime ago now.

It’s here the replay of your past becomes distorted; all black and white static and poorly compiled edits after that, time jumps and skips and sequences completely out of order.

You’re in the woods and there’s blood stains on your clothes and you’re running and it’s never going to be far enough, it’s never going to leave you. It doesn’t matter how far you run; it’s buried under your skin now.

And then your mind goes to that place. To every nightmarish thought and the memories you avoid. It’s too much.

The blood. The flames. The shame.

It’s the fact you’ve bought a child into a world where monsters are real and you don’t know if you can keep them safe.

More memories.

Then it’s the fear; the unspoken terror that one day soon you’ll lose everyone, that you’ll just watch it unfold in from you. That you’ll be the only one left, doomed to loneliness and emptiness. That you’ll watch as everyone you love is taken from you; by illness, or violence, or such an innocuous looking fungus.

You’ll be left all alone and then they’ll find you.

Tendrils of anxiety twist around your body, constricting with each thought, each memory, each possible future, until you feel like you’re suffocating and your heart is racing and surely you can’t wake up from this.

It’s not real.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Joel asks placidly as you walk over to the bench, your rucksack casually slung over one shoulder. It’s clear that he’s been here for a while already but he’s left one side clear and ready for you.

“Just here for the view,” you say calmly, stuffing your hands into your pockets as you try and push away the lingering unease from your sleep.

“Aren’t we all?”

You sit next to him, playing your bag by the edge of your feet.

It’s been more than a week since he first came to your bench and since then you’ve had more run-ins with Tommy’s brother. The two of you have seen several sunrises together in a wordless peace. Neither of you have truly acknowledged each other outside of the bench, nothing beyond polite nods in the community hall at mealtimes and the pleasantries you both would surely afford to any other member of this community.

You’ve spent each night on the bench observing Joel. You’ve quietly noticed his features; the freckles and sun marks, the way his eyes warm when he smiles or and the depths in them when he’s avoiding a subject.

There’s a lot you still don’t know about him.

Neither of you have talked much about the substance of your lives before Jackson. It’s to be expected though. These days, it’s safe to assume that if you’re still alive, it came at a cost and perhaps you don’t need to dwell on that.

You know Joel a little more now - each of you have given small hints about the person you are. Not a lot, not everything, but it’s just enough that Joel feels more real to you.

“I heard it was a rough patrol yesterday,” you say after a moment. Beau had told you all about the horde of infected they’d bumped into. He told you that him, Bonnie, Tommy, and Joel had almost been surrounded at one point.

Sometimes you almost forget about the infected. For a little while anyway.

For the past twenty years, most of the true terror you’d felt was at the hands of humans, not cordyceps. Were you frightened of losing people to it? Of course. Had your few encounters with clickers or runners been terrifying? Yes. Were you terrified of the world you’d leave your son one day? Naturally.

It was just in the QZs, in the worlds you’d moved in between then, you always encountered more humans than infected. The outbreak had changed everything and it had amplified so much; there was no court of law now, no shallow allusions of propriety no order outside of dictatorial QZs, so in some places, the anticipated lawlessness and loss of humanity was your true fear.

Jackson is an exception.

Joel looks down for a moment after you speak and you wonder if you shouldn’t have bought up the patrol at all.

“It was fine,” Joel says gruffly.

“Okay.”

“Do you go on a lot of patrols?” he asks.

“Sometimes,” you say. “Only when it’s my rotation. I’m mostly based in the library and sometimes I help Sean in the greenhouses too.” You pause and wonder if you should add more that you’re good with a bow and arrow now, but you still freeze in close contact.

After a while, as the breeze reaches your fingers and you regret not packing gloves, you reach down and pull a thermos out of your rucksack. You take a long sip, savouring the hot liquid and warming your fingers on the container.

You look over at Joel and then down at the flask in your hands.

“It’s just chicory coffee,” you say, offering the thermos to him politely. “A little dandelion root too I think.”

He looks at you curiously.

“Why?”

“I’m getting chilly, and it seems rude to sit here and drink coffee and not offer any to you.” Jackson has burrowed its way under your skin now; there’s no way you would have done this a year ago. Or perhaps it’s the bench, the magic of this place in the middle of the night. It’s like the rules you’ve built over the years can ease slightly here. The air feels just minutely lighter.

“Thanks.” Joel accepts the battered thermos, takes a long look at it, and then takes a tentative sip of the drink.

“Still nowhere near as good as the real thing,” you say wistfully. “And it’s caffeine free, but sometimes I can pretend it isn’t.”

“Better than nothing, I guess.”

“Exactly.”

“Where do you get it from? I know FEDRA had regular supplies and they grew it out in one of the QZs.”

“It grows wild around Wyoming and Sean’s cultivated a patch of it in the gardens too. Esther, in town, she makes it all. Esther’s definitely a good person to befriend if you want to keep a supply of it. She’s nice too.”

“Yeah, Tommy mentioned her.”

You smirk, imagining exactly the nature of the conversation between the two brothers.

“What’s that for?”

“Nothing.”

“Sure it is. Just you really seem to be settling into Jackson now.”

Joel shakes his head with a smile. “Don’t you start.”

“Okay, I won’t. So, how’s Ellie? I saw her in the library today, well, yesterday now,” you say lightly.

“Oh yeah?”

“Uh huh, she’s going through our space section pretty quickly. We’ll have to see what we can find on patrols.”

“Yeah, she’s really into space.” You can hear the affection in his voice; the deep love he has for her and that sense of pride that he knows this about her, knows about her interests.

“If any new books come in, I can put them aside for her.”

He looks at you with an unreadable expression. “Thanks.”

“It’s nothing.” You pause. “I think I get it. I never had a space phase, but I spent several months really fascinated with deep sea exploration when I was a kid. We moved to the coast and suddenly it was right there and I’d never thought about it before. I mean that I get where she’s coming from.” You have no idea where this sudden burst of honesty came from and you feel your face heat at what you’ve said.

“We’re a long way from the coast now,” he says softly. “Don’t think I’ve seen a beach in years.”

“No?” You smile sadly. “Me either. We’ve mostly only travelled inland since - well, since everything and sometimes I really miss it. Sean and I, we’ve been friends since we were kids and we used to just spend every weekend by the water.” You remember the start of your dream and fold your arms around yourself.

“What about you?” you ask, eager to change the subject and curious about the man beside you. “What was your thing?”

“I um,” Joel pauses as though he’s genuinely bewildered by being asked this question “I was into, uh -” He looks away from you. “The usual stuff, football and uh, all that.”

“Really? Just football?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Joel asks, folding his arms.

“Nothing, nothing at all.”

He exhales and stretches his long legs out on the bench more. You follow the line from his feet up to his body and eventually his face. He looks uncertain, as though there’s something he wants to add, but he’s not sure.

“I wanted to be a writer, or to work with books, or words in some way. Had all these ideas about being an investigate journalist, or an editor, or just ... I think I just wanted to make art of some type. It’s probably why I’m so focused on the library now.”

“Music,” he whispers. “I was really into that.”

“So, you played … something? Guitar?” You look at him and decide he was most definitely a guitarist. He has the look, might even have the hands for it.

“Maybe,” Joel says,

“Please tell me you were in a terrible garage rock band at one point?” You smile at the image this conjures of the broad and elusive man next to you.

“In high school, for a brief moment. Then uh, things changed for us all and I - I had other priorities in my life than music.”

“That’s a shame.”

“It was the right call.”

“Still, if you loved it … it’s never too late? Did you know, they sometimes do open mic nights at the Tipsy Bison, but it’s … ropey, some of it.” You grimace at the memory of the last one that Sean and Beau had dragged you to a few months ago.

“You’re really selling this to me, sweetheart.”

“Hey, until you’ve heard Seth sing karaoke, you truly haven’t hit rock bottom.”

Joel scoffs, a small smile on his face that crinkles his eyes and warms every feature.

You thought you would hate sharing your bench, or having an intrusion on your solitude, but you don’t.

Over time, you’ve perfected sneaking back into this house. There’s a way to shut the back door just so to prevent anyone hearing you wander in. You avoid the bottom stair which creaks, and the other creaky floorboards on the landing.

Every time you do this, you feel like a teenager again. You grew up reading books and watching movies where teenagers snuck out to and from parties, but that had never been your life. You were studious, deferent to the rules. Your focus was singular; college, success, making a name for yourself. Sean used to try and persuade you to join him at parties or even just when he and his friends would hang out at the beach in the evening after surfing. You had thought you had time.

The world had different plans for you all though.

By the time you’ve crept back to your room, changed, and got ready for the day ahead, you can hear the familiar sounds of cupboards being opened and closed in the kitchen below.

“Mornin’ sweetie,” you say, squeezing Gabe’s shoulder as you walk into the kitchen.

Your son squirms but smiles lightly when he meets your eyes. The last twenty years have been an unending endurance test, painful and exhausting, but now you have Gabriel. You weren’t ready for him; you felt too young, too scared, too everything. He means everything to you now though.

He wears so many of your features and mannerisms, or features you remember seeing in your family. You find it uncanny; that mix of uniqueness and familiarity all at once.

“Is anyone else up yet?” you ask, stifling a yawn as you scan the kitchen for additional cups or plates, any sign the others are awake.

“Beau’s still asleep but Sean said he’d be down in five -”

“Which means he’ll be down in ten,” you both say together.

You were offered separate houses when the four of you first arrived in Jackson. There was an entire house that Maria told you could just be for you and Gabriel. After almost a decade of living in a small, crapped apartment in Kansas with too thin walls and continual threats it had seemed unbelievable. Sean and Beau had been offered the house opposite you too. Maria had recognised how close you all were.

There’d been too much death along the way though; too much loss. You and Sean had been together so much of it all too. You were close friends before the outbreak and now hopelessly and hideously co-dependent on each other. Even back in Kansas, your apartment had been next to his and Beau’s. For more than a decade, you haven’t had more than a single wall separating you.

The idea of being so separate, of being more than a wall away, in a new community prettified you. You were frightened about what Jackson really could be; what it could be hiding, how quickly you may need to run. You felt like a deer in the headlights, a wild animal being stalked by prey. For the first weeks in Jackson, the town itched your skin and filled you with anxiety. There had to be a dark side, it couldn’t be that simple. You all needed to be ready to run.

The four of you had decided to stay together, to stay close, just in case. It was meant to be temporary.

It’s been two years now.

It also means you never have to worry about Gabe when you sneak out at night, it means your son has his uncles in his life every day. It means you’re not alone throughout everything.

They’re only people you have left now - the family you both found and made. They are the ones who have shaped the last twenty years of your life.

You take a sip of your tea and smile at your son.

“So, small bit of news I asked if Uncle Beau could take me on patrol next week,” he says quietly after a moment. “He said yes.”

“No. Gabriel, you’re -”

“I’m sixteen.”

“I know.” You swallow and look at him carefully. You remember him being so small you could hold him in one hand but now he’s sitting opposite you and he looks both so young and like a man all at once. Patrols? That’s normal for him now, that’s the way of life in Jackson. He’s still so young though.

You hear a creak on the staircase and listen carefully as your son continues making his case.

“It’s time I started learning about this and Beau will watch out for me if you’re worried. He said the route next week is the best to get started with,” he says, brow furrowing with concern at your reaction. “I’m ready though.”

“I’m sure you are. I know Uncle Beau will be there with you, I’m glad of that.” It’s better if he goes with Beau. You know him, you trust him and he will ensure that your son is safe.

“So how do you feel about that, patrol? Is this your idea or have you been volunteered?” Your son starting on this path is one thing if it’s his choice, but if he’s only going along with this because he thinks he’s supposed to, or because of teenage peer pressure? Well, the consequences are a lot worse in your son’s world, than chunky highlights or double denim could ever have been.

“It’s my idea. I’m fine with it,” he says quickly, avoiding your gaze.

You put your cup down and raise an eyebrow at him.

“Ergh, look, okay Jesse did his first patrol last week. Please - I can do it, I know I can. I want to.”

You’re tempted to reply, ‘and if Jesse walked off a cliff, would you?’ If you say it out loud though, there is no way you can deny you are turning into your mother, so instead you take a long sip of your drink.

It feels like a losing battle. Patrols are part of normal life in Jackson. However, if he’s with Beau then maybe that’s okay. If you know anything about Beau it’s that he is fiercely protective of the people he cares about. These days, that’s pretty much only Sean, you, and Gabriel.

“If you feel you’re ready and if Uncle Beau agrees and it’s a sensible patrol route … It needs to be in daylight, and just a short one.”

“Absolutely.”

“Okay.”

He beams in response.

“I’ve got classes, I better go.” He stretches and stands up, downing the rest of his drink.

“Okay, I’ll see you later. Love you. ”

“Yeah, you too, mum.” he says quickly, looking around as if one if his friends could secretly be listening by the window. He looks back at you and his face turns softer before he quickly moves away. “Hey Uncle Sean,” he says as they cross in the doorway.

“Morning Gabe.” Sean looks over at you and says good morning to you, says your name with a cheerful smile as he pours himself a tea and then sits down opposite you at the kitchen table.

“How much of that did you hear?”

“I started eavesdropping when Gabe mentioned Beau and patrols. I thought you handled it beautifully, by the way.”

“You’re only trying to make me less mad at Beau.”

Sean raises his hands in mock surrender and then leans back against his chair.

“Anyway, are you going to tell me about where you went last night?”

“Where I went?”

“Heard you leave, sweetie.”

“I … shit. Sorry, I thought I was quiet.”

“You are.” He sighs heavily. “So, where’d you go? Got a late-night Jackson booty call I don’t know about?”

For some unknown reason an image of Joel fills your mind, his unruly hair particularly. He often comes to the bench with mussed up hair from where you imagine he was in his own bed, trying to sleep. You imagine other ways his hair could get messy like that; your hands in his hair as he ...

No.

Absolutely not.

“You do have a hook up?” Sean asks incredulously.

“No. No. I don’t. I just go for a walk is all.”

“Alone?” Sean waggles his eyebrows mischievously.

“Yes.” Technically you walk to the bench alone and then you and Joel only walk back together so that doesn’t count … and his house is before yours anyway It really doesn’t count, right?

“Okay,” Sean says, frowning. “Are you having nightmares again? Do you need to talk about it?”

You shake your head, biting your lip. “Do you?”

“I’m okay.”

You and Sean have been friends since you first moved to the beach town you spent your teenage years in. The bond between you is irrevocable. He’s your brother, your best friend, one of the people you love most in the world.

You share scars.

The same turmoil and trauma and ghosts have buried under both of your skins in different ways. He’s been there through it all for you. You’ve been there through it all for him.

He’s the only person in the world who will ever understand the parts of you that you keep locked in boxes you can never open. And for him? For him, you know the secrets that he hasn’t even told Beau.

“Gabe … he’s been asking me and Beau about … before. He’s asking questions again,” Sean says after a moment, looking around the kitchen carefully and speaking in a low voice. “I wondered if this patrol thing was about that at first, about what we all said and … it’s getting harder to not give him any specifics.”

“Me too, but I think it’s because Jesse went on his first patrol recently.” That’s what you’re hoping anyway.

“Huh, how about that? Look, it doesn’t matter because this isn’t going away. He’s going to keep asking.”

“This all seemed so much easier when he was a baby.”

Sean raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, I remember sixteen years ago, I wouldn’t say any of it was easier back then. It’s just the kid believed whatever we said with no questions.”

“Sean, tell me he still thinks …”

“Yeah. He just needs some details, honey. I know it hurts to talk about, but you have to give him something. He’s almost a man now and he’s got valid questions. I can - I would have been the same, so would you.“

You swallow and look out of the window. “I’ll handle it, Sean.”

You don’t flinch when you hear the crunch of Joel’s boots. You’ve come to expect it, anticipate the sound.

It makes you smile.

The bench doesn’t quite feel the same without him anymore.

“Howdy,” he says, the slight twang of his southern drawl more pronounced than usual.

You wave for him to come and join you on the bench.

“I didn’t see you here yesterday,” Joel says softly.

“Oh, I uh - was wiped out and I - I guess I just slept?” You notice how surprised your voice is there; you’re surprised you had a good night’s sleep for once, and you’re surprised that Joel noticed you weren’t there. In fairness, you had been due a night’s sleep as the exhaustion from your insomnia finally won out over your overthinking and anxiety. Gabriel had been on patrol with Beau that day and you’d worried yourself to the point of complete exhaustion.

Joel noticed though. He noticed you weren’t here.

“Were - were you here?”

Joel nods.

“Guess I’ve got sorta used to you being here too now.”

“I mean, it’s more the other way around. This was technically my bench first.”

“Really?” he says your name in a low, teasing voice. “You really wanna go there, huh?”

“I’m just saying. I’ve been here longer, technically and I’m saying this as a mere technicality, I have dibs on this bench.”

“An’ here I thought no-one truly owned anything in Jackson.”

“Benches are exceptions, everyone knows that.”

The two of you laugh, it’s light and somehow more soothing to you than the cup of herbal tea you’d drank before bed in the hope of repeating the night before and sleeping for once.

“I’m willing to consider joint custody or a small timeshare though,” you say.

“Oh wow, I’m real lucky.”

“I know. I wouldn’t bestow that right on just anyone.”

“I hope not.” Joel smiles and oh, you love it when he smiles. It’s so captivating.

“It got me thinkin’ though-“

“Sounds dangerous.”

“You know it. Anyway, I was thinking,” Joel looks away from you, towards the horizon and he wrings his hands together. “I guess it reminded me we have this whole world outside this bench.”

You’d thought the same thing, but you can’t say it. The words fall heavy on your tongue, your mouth feels like it’s filled with cotton.

“I wondered if maybe, you wanted to get a drink one day?” He’s not looking at you. “It’s a stupid idea.”

“No, no, it’s not. Why? Why would you want that with me?”

“Maybe I just want a drink with you,” he says.

You pause. Deflection is your standard response to something like this. The idea that Joel could want to spend time with you outside of your insomnia ridden nights surprises you. Why would he want that?

You can’t lie to yourself though; there’s something about Joel that draws you in. He’s easy to talk to and despite appearances and town mumbling, you can tell he’s not a bad person. He’s kind to you, thoughtful and you’ve thought about him.

You’ve thought about him a lot.

“Technically we’ve shared my thermos of coffee multiple times now,” you say weakly.

“That doesn’t count, sweetheart.”

“Wow, now you’re spurning my chicory coffee now, huh? That’s not good enough for you?”

“A real drink.” You can hear the meaning behind his words and it doesn’t fill you with the caution you would normally anticipate.

“And does this drink happen to be served somewhere this isn’t this bench?”

“As long as it ain’t karaoke night.”

“You drive a hard bargain, Joel Miller.” You pause for a moment, tilt your head in mock contemplation. “Okay, a drink.”

You meet Joel’s smile this time.

Tag List

YHIM: @orcasoul @pedropascalsbbg @yoursoulsunbreakable @iamskyereads @genetics4life @everyth1ngfan @frickatives @perennialdoll247 @darkroastjoel @noisynightmarepoetry

Everything Pedro tag-list: @harriedandharassed @pedrostories @hiroikegawa @pedrosaidsheispunk @pastelnap

If you want to be added to (or removed from) one of the tag lists, let me know or you can get notifications for @thelightsandtheroses-fics if you prefer. If you do not have an age or age range showing you are over 18, I will not add you to this list. I block ageless and blank blogs

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal character #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #your hand in mine fic

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tiredly101 · 1 year

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Worst thing is she didn't hear part 2

Pairing: Wally Darling x Replaced!Female reader

Part 1, Part 3,

Illustrated Au, picture doesn’t belong to me! R/n stands for random name peeps! Took my time writing, still have a bunch of request to answer but here you go!

It has been years since last time Wally saw F/n, he couln’t find her no matter what he did. Or that is at least what he thought…

Wally was walking down the street of Welcome Home and was surprised to see a new path that took him somewhere that wasn’t the forest but somewhere new. Curiosity picked at him in an almost annoying way but he didn’t try to ignore it and so he followed the path.

Wally walks what feels like hours until he stumbles into a beach, he really doesn’t remember a beach ever being there but his attention is throw towards the black and white house that was there but with striking resemblance to F/n’s so he walks towards the house and opens the broken door making the door let out an awful pitched noise but Wally ignores it and carries on.

Wally enters with doubt but soon regret feels him since static starting sounding in his ears but he carried towards the living room recognizing it, it was exactly like F/n’s… he walked on until he ran towards F/n’s room where he saw her sitting against a wall with her head down, like a rag doll.

“F/n! I’m so glad I found you…,” started saying Wally to stop talking all together, F/n seemed dull. Her once bright colors faded into whites, blacks and grays, her eyes looked empty, in one of her legs were sewed the words “R/n replace” and her arms and legs had strings thrown in the floor as if she was ripped multiple times and sewed again, but her lips were sewed into a smile making Wally’s own smile fall.

“Oh, what happened to you my darling?”

Tags:

@lovingyeet @w-s-f-w-w-s-f-j @justyuki1st @mikomi-the-clown @bloodmoona-eclipse @etherealyblue @zukkosworld @majestichugs

#welcome home #wally darling x reader #wally darling x female reader #tiredly jackie writes #tiredly jackie replies

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hopefuloverfury · 6 months

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Elliott Scrap 🦀

Elliott being a smitten man, as usual. Fem!Farmer, she/her pronouns. No other warnings necessary. I'll find a place for this scene eventually.

Elliott’s boots thunk softly against the stone bridge leading into town, his route illuminated by warm yellow light. He looks up at the rusty lamp posts, his breath puffing out into clouds of vapor in front of his face. It’s two days into Spring already, but frost still clings to the emerald green grass framing the cobblestone path, and Elliott tucks his nose low into the collar of his jacket.

The windows of the saloon burn a fiery orange, and Elliott picks up his pace. After hours of staring at ink on half-empty pages, and with no solace found in the sounds of waves kissing the shore outside of his home, he needs a distraction.

Tied to a post outside of the saloon is a horse, its ears flicking back and forth as it grazes on the overgrown grass breaking through the cement. Its coat is dusty brown, with a dark brown mane, and a very new looking saddle strapped to its back.

The horse picks its head up, sensing his presence. Its ears flick again, and if Elliott knew anything about horses, he might say it looks curious. He doesn’t though, so he walks past without a second glance, and up the steps.

He pushes the door open. It’s not a slow night by any means, but it’s not loud enough to drown out the cheery jingling of the bell above the door as Elliott pushes inside. The warmth from the fireplace hits him square in the face, and he relishes the way it melts the chill settled into his bones. Gus looks up to greet him, and Elliott knows it’s more out of habit than anything else. Just standard, to welcome a guest.

Elliott looks around, expecting to see Leah at their usual table next to the jukebox, but surprisingly, she’s nowhere to be seen. He frowns, resigning himself to a night of drinking alone, when something catches his attention.

The farmer stands alone at the bar, loosening the strap of her shoulder guard.

The last time he saw her was at his shack on the beach, two weeks ago. He’d poured his heart out into a heap on the floor of his shack, and she carefully placed every piece back into his palms. She’d been wearing overalls and brown work gloves, with steel-toed boots and the straw hat she won the spring prior for achieving first place in the egg hunt. She’d looked like a proper farmer, and a little like an angel.

But here, in the flickering firelight of Stardrop Saloon, she looks like she’s stepped out of an adventure novel. Dressed like a heroine whose only goal is to slay foul beasts and protect those weaker than herself, there’s a small array of leather holsters criss-crossing over her torso, cuts and bruises on her arms, and fresh white bandages wrapped around her knuckles. There’s a large black stain on the front of her shirt, and he wonders what the hell she’d done to get it.

She looks up, and their eyes meet.

Recognition passes over her face, and then she smiles.

He makes a beeline for the bar, the restless buzz in his chest getting louder with every step, like a swarm of cicadas in the summer.

“Hello, Farmer,” Elliot says, the buzz starting to make his ears ring. “What a pleasant surprise.”

“Elliott. I was hoping I’d see you tonight,” she says softly, a smile spreading across her lips. Elliott blinks, and thoughts he’d never dare entertain flicker like firelight over the inside of his eyelids. She’s so pretty. Why is she so pretty? “I thought about stopping by your cabin, but I figured I should check here first, just in case.”

Elliott feels lightheaded. “You were looking for me?”

She hums, nodding as she turns away to search through her bag. “Last time I dropped by, you looked like you were running out of ink.”

“Ah. I was planning to purchase a refill from Pierre in the morning.” Elliott winces. He’d put it off for too long, and his plans to write well into the night were dashed when his fountain pen ran out of ink in the middle of a chapter.

“No need. I collected some for you.” She turns around, a glass inkwell standing proudly in the center of her palm. “I hope this is enough, but if it isn’t I can bring more later.”

Elliott’s lips part on a breath as he plucks the bottle out of her hand. The glass is heavy, sturdy between his fingers and sapphire blue. He whistles softly, a reverent sound. “It’s lovely. Where did you get it? The ones at Pierre’s don’t look like this.”

“Oh, no, I made it.”

Elliott jerks his head so fast he nearly gives himself whiplash. “You made this? All of it?”

“Well, not really. I harvested the ink from squids, but I had leftover corks from my wine bottles, and the bottle is made out of glass shards I collected from the beach.” She chuckles, tapping her fingertip against the glass. “Who knew smelting furnaces were great for glassmaking?”

#stardew valley #sdv #elliott #sdv elliott #stardew valley elliott #scraps #blurbies #sdv farmer #stardew valley farmer #elliott brainrot is bad rn #flowery language #because this is elliott we're talking about #long post

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staycalmandhugaclone · 8 months

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You'll Have to Go Through Me Pt 6

Part 6 of You'll Have to Go Through Me, the next arc of Doc's Misadventures! If you're new, start at the beginning with Touch Starved!

So... just a heads up: this is actually the end of this arc. Aaaand I intend to spend the next week or so working through a couple Asks. Sorry it took so long to get out - feel like I kinda struggled a bit with it, but I do be having some interesting thoughts (courtesy of a collab braining session with my hubby) for what happens next (because I clearly don't have enough upcoming Doc stories lol)

Warnings: Mild PTSF, guilt, reference to torture/gore, profanity, heated kissing

WC: 4,340

The sound of those crashing waves again lulled me into a false sense of nearness as I followed the well-trod path toward the beach, endlessly believing I’d finally glimpse a stunning expanse of oceans upon cresting the next ridge only to find another dune stretching out before me. The Marauder was empty when Crosshair and I had reached it, but he’d urged me to continue alone as he ducked inside with a parting “Try not to start another fight until I get there.”

Alone, there was no blessed freedom from my thoughts, nothing to distract myself from the ache each step sent shooting through my hip nor the way my hand throbbed, and I quickly found my strides quickening if only to escape that haunted isolation. Acknowledging that I’d had no real choice in what I’d done offered little reprieve from the nauseating guilt brought on by the memories, and I quickly found myself so lost in those thoughts that I might have run mindlessly into Hunter before noticing him had he not reached out to grab my arms first, wide eyes studying me expectantly as I turned up to him with a quiet gasp.

“I was just coming to find you.” He said after a moment’s hesitation, words drawn out with an unspoken question. He glanced briefly past me before those worried eyes turned back to mine.

“He’s at the ship.” I answered, straining to force my breathing to slow. I knew it was pointless, that he could hear the rapid thudding of my heart and quickly tried to change the subject. “Couldn’t have landed closer to shore?” Hunter barely acknowledged the feigned annoyance in my words. “Usually, people go to the beach to relax, not for a workout.” He was still for just a moment longer before yielding beneath my silent plea with a gentle smirk.

“And here I thought you were tougher than the other nat-borns.” He teased, and relief fluttered through my chest. “Need me to carry you, princess?” I scoffed and tread purposefully around him.

“Don’t tempt me, Mr Big, Scary Clone Commando.”

“‘Scary’?” He sounded far too pleased with himself as he fell in step beside me, shoulder bumping lightly against mine. “I can think of a couple better ways to describe myself.” There was nothing forced in the chuckle that escaped me as I looked up at him.

“Yeah? What? Like cocky? Vain? Over-a-” The word cut off with a squeal of laughter as he threw me over his shoulder.

“Sorry, what was that?” He hummed fingers intentionally toying with the oversensitive skin at my sides any time I tried to speak. “Can’t quite hear you over all that giggling.”

“Hunter!” I shouted, eagerly ignoring the flash of pain as my hands latched onto the thick muscle atop his shoulder blades to steady myself. “Put me down!”

“And risk wearing out our precious med’ika? Boost would never forgive me.” My cheeks flared red.

“Hunter!” I shrieked again, but he merely shook with his own laughter as he continued along the trail a few more strides before finally setting me down, haughty grin toying with his lips as his touch lingered on my arms to steady me. I tried to glare at him but couldn’t restrain my mirth for even a fleeting moment as I tried not to think on the ease with which his powerful frame carried me.

“What’s with the… Doc!” The concern in Wrecker’s voice instantly shifted to excitement as he looked down at us from atop the dune, and I sent him a warm smile that quickly broke into laughter once more as he skidded down the hill, plowing into me with a breathtaking hug that forced out a quiet “oof” as he lifted me off my feet.

“Yuh had me so worried!” He said, and I could hear Hunter’s quiet chuckle beside us. “An’ then you were gone when I woke up, and I thought-” He suddenly stopped and carefully put me back down, blush flaring up his neck. “You, uh… sorry if I… made yuh uncomfortable…” His loud voice faded into an almost embarrassed murmur. “Didn’t really seem like yuh wanted me to let yuh go, so I just…” He lets his words fade with a shrug.

“Wrecker,” I called softly, heart jumping when he hesitantly met my gaze. “Thank you for helping me last night... I think I really needed it.” His blush deepened, but his lips pulled into a shy grin.

“Jus’ glad it helped.” He replied softly, and he paused for just a moment, watching me with that knowing softness that spoke volumes of the darkness he knew lingered just beneath my smile, but he allowed me to hide from it in the warmth of his presence. “Now, come on! If yuh thought the last fish we roasted was big, wait ‘til yuh see this one!” My brow hitched in interest as he turned and guided me over that final dune, arm draped casually around my shoulders.

I’d never seen water so clear. Even from afar, bursts of color shown through that crystalline blue from endless stretches of elaborate coral reefs through which I could just make out blurred streaks darting in and out of sight as countless fish thrived in the immaculate landscape hidden beneath the gentle waves. A comforting wind toyed with my hair, carrying the scent of sun-warmed sands garnished with a salty tang that was somehow far more subtle than I’d anticipated. The nearly white beach stretched out in a graceful curve to my right before vanishing beyond the tree line, while ivory cliffs blocked passage to my left, great boulders from which protruded elegantly from the water where the current crashed against them in great flurries of sparkling droplets.

“Worth the hike?” Hunter goaded with that haughty smirk.

“Depends. Am I going to get eaten the second I dip my toes in?” I asked, shooting a sideways glance at him.

“Probably not.” The utter ease with which his smokey voice murmured those words drew a huffed scoff from me, eyes rolling slightly.

“Nothin’ out there we can’t deal with, at least!” Wrecker chimed, pulling me forward once more.

Nestled just within the shadow of palms near the base of the cliff, they’d dug a pit into the sand from which I could just glimpse the glow of coals beneath a familiar metal grate, and I didn’t doubt Wrecker had hauled it from the Marauder the instant one of his brothers suggested they prepare a meal. He was right. Only half of the massive fish they’d somehow caught fit atop the grill, the remaining half hung from a nearby tree, flesh protected beneath a layer of broad leaves, and it was easily twice as large as the one we’d cooked on Devaron.

“No swimming… Got it…” I muttered, noting the row of sharp teeth nearly the length of my hand, and Wrecker let out a warm chuckle.

“Predators such as this tend to prefer feeding at dawn or dusk, making it highly unlikely one would attempt to target you in the next several hours.” I turned to find Tech reclined against the trunk of one of the swaying trees. A pile of tool and parts lay at his side, gaze turned toward his datapad though it didn’t appear as though he was truly looking at it so much as looking away from me, and that realization made my heart drop.

“So, you’re saying there’s only a small chance I’ll lose a limb.” I replied, gentle smile warming my voice in a silent plea, and that smile grew when his eyes flicked briefly to mine, lips just twitching in a grin of his own.

“It’s unlikely, but, yes, there’s a non-zero probability.” He yielded reluctantly.

“I’ll go with yuh!” Wrecker offered.

“Maybe after breakfast.” His eyes lit up at my response.

“A’right! I’ve been dyin’ to try this thing!” With that, he released me to trot toward the freshly cooked meal with Hunter following shortly behind.

“How are you feeling?” I asked quietly, moving to sit down a few feet away from the Tech.

“I do not believe I’ve suffered any long-term effects from the electrocution.” He answered, gaze again shifting toward me for a fleeting, almost shy glance that piqued my curiosity.

“Given that ‘short-term’ technically includes anything up to a month, would you care to elaborate?” I drawled, turning knowing eyes toward him, and I couldn’t help but warm at the way his lips bunched up.

“There’s some lingering fatigue and occasional muscle weakness, but it is minor enough that I anticipate it to resolve without the need for intervention.” His fingers tapped against the screen, but his attention remained somewhere just beyond whatever data lay within the illuminated surface.

“I’m glad.” I sighed in relief. His jaw twitched, but he seemed to think better of what he’d nearly said and quickly silenced himself. I ducked my head pointedly toward him, waiting, and I watched his fingers fidget anxiously with the seem of his gloves.

“Hunter… told me that you… well, that you carried me… again…” I almost couldn’t believe the sight of red creeping up his neck. “I apologize if it’s been burdensome.” Beneath a guilt that made my heart twist, there was a note of… something in his voice… excitement maybe? I found myself eager to lean into that underlying emotion rather than let him drown in a guilt that had no place between us.

“Stand up.” I instructed suddenly, already pushing myself to my feet as well, hands absently swiping at the sand clinging to my legs.

“Excuse me?” That confusion broke whatever aversion had kept him from meeting my eyes, and I had to bite back the relief upon finally seeing that brilliant burnt honey looking back at me.

“Stand up.” I said again, hand flaring out for emphasize. He stammered a moment longer, mind racing to understand my motivation before hesitantly moving to obey me. Without giving him time to object, I tread across the single step between us, crouching down to hoist him over my shoulder in a single, smooth motion. His datapad fell half-buried in the sand as his hands darted out to my back, a sharp gasp catching in his throat, and Wrecker’s laugh boomed across the dozen yards separating us from the grill.

“See?” I called, voice free of strain despite the way my hip balked from the effort. “This is what I do, Tech. It’s not a burden – you’re not a burden.” I bounced gently on the balls of my feet for emphasize and couldn’t help but grin at the way his breath caught in his throat.

“Y-yes; quite; you… you can put me down now.” He stammered, long legs stretching for the ground.

“Nah. I think he likes it up there.” Hunter teased as he approached us, thoughtlessly cleaning his knife of fish residue. Though I couldn’t see the expression on his face, I felt Tech turn sharply toward his brother and didn’t doubt the rage surely burning through his eyes.

“I told yuh she’s stronger than she looks!” Wrecker boasted. He was carrying a massive chunk of flaky meat atop one of the tree fronds, but his attention rested solely on us, pride shining in his eyes that drew a huff of laughter from me. I knew the pilot could have easily forced himself free, that he only refrained out of either respect or a reluctance to risk hurting me in the process. Regardless, my intent was merely to prove a point so, rather than dragging it out, I carefully lowered him back down.

Face a vibrant red, he quickly straightened his blacks indignantly. With a gentle smile, I retrieved his datapad and held it out for him. His blush only deepened in that brief moment of glancing toward me before accepting it, but he let out a short breath and nodded, jaw taut against what looked like the threat of his own smile, and I couldn’t help but wonder if Hunter was right…

Before my thoughts could wander over that possibility, the Sergeant’s expression suddenly dropped into an unimpressed stare, attention locked onto something just passed my shoulder.

“Ah.” Tech’s brief murmur held the same dismissive resignation as I followed their gazes and had to bite back the grin that tried to pull at my lips. Crosshair had finally caught up with us, armor apparently left behind on the Marauder along with his shirt. There wasn’t an ounce of shame in his eyes as he looked at each of his brothers in turn before letting his gaze rest on me, and I couldn’t begin to feign indifference.

There was something feline in the way his body moved, the tantalizing interplay of immaculately sculpted muscles emphasizing his every stride, and I couldn’t help but remember how perfect they felt beneath my hands as he towered over me in those moonlit woods, the strength of them as his weight pressed me into that scratchy blanket. He was paler than most clones, but the soft caramel of his skin held a warmth that still left me craving its touch, its scent, his taste.

Swallowing back the flare of want, I finally yielded, looking at him with the hunger he’d so effortlessly sent burning through me, and the smirk that instantly lit his face robbed me of any doubt that he’d known exactly what he was doing when he left the ship like that.

“Hope you put on some sunblock.” Hunter called, voice almost bored, but the taunt did nothing to deter the sniper’s pride. Crosshair’s lips pulled into a sneer, but before he could offer a retort, Wrecker interrupted them.

“Ah, you guys can bully each other later. Let’s eat!” I let out a quiet chuckle before pausing, glancing first toward the beach and then into the trees.

“Wait… Where’s Echo?” I asked, and the simple confusion in my voice twisted into a haunting dread at the way Hunter’s jaw tensed.

“He’s at the ship.” Crosshair answered, and I just caught the hard glare he shot his brother before schooling his face back into a nearly impassive disinterest. “Didn’t want to deal with the sand.” I could have pressed. I could have demanded they tell me the truth, admit that he was avoiding me rather than play into the lie, but I knew nothing would come of it. He didn’t want to see me. Nothing I said would change that simple hurt.

“Guess someone’ll just have to bring him some fish later.” My vain attempt at nonchalance fell painfully short, prompting a heaviness to the air around us that made my skin crawl. Drawing a quick breath, I turned my attention to the pile of meat Wrecker had carried from the fire. “Let’s not let it get cold.”

“What are you working on?” Short conversation had murmured between the brothers as we ate regarding empty speculations on where we might be sent next, if we’d be granted time to rest before the next mission, muttered complaints about how long it had been seen we’d found ourselves in an actual city, but as the meal ended, a less oppressive quiet settled between us.

Wrecker, stomach full and body warmed beneath the brilliant sun, lay dozing nearby while Hunter was busying himself with climbing the nearby cliff for a better view of the island. Crosshair had seated himself just near enough to me for his knee to occasionally brush mine, though he offered no reaction to those hidden touches as though they’d occurred by mere chance, so I pointedly turned my attention to the now nearly completed device in Tech’s hands. His eyes darted toward me for just a moment upon hearing my question before returning to his work.

“A tester scomp of sorts.” He stated absently, attention focused on piecing the remaining sheath atop the intricate series of wires. “This should grant us some warning against another malicious failsafe such as what we encountered at the outpost.” My interest instantly piqued, relief pouring through me for a worry I hadn’t realized I’d had. There was a time I would have been shocked that he’d been able to create something out of whatever lay about the Marauder, but I’d long since learned not to think such limitation to be a hindrance to the man before me.

“You think it’ll be able to trigger whatever trap that was?” I asked, voice hushed beneath a desperate hope.

“I’ll need to test it first… but, yes. While I doubt they’d attempt the same strategy twice, I believe caution is the appropriate tactic going forward.” Some of his words were drawn out, as though he’d nearly forgotten he was speaking as he finished attaching the final piece. Before I could reply, he pushed himself to his feet. “Excuse me – I’ll need to use the Marauder to verify it’s efficiency.”

With that, he quickly disappeared among the trees. With Hunter mere feet from the distant lip of shockingly pale stone and Wrecker making barely a sound as he slept, my mind revolted against the silence. It was too easy to fall back into the memory of those screams, to hear the crunch of bone in the sound of waves crashing against sand. As though I could feel him studying me, I glanced over to find Crosshair’s eyes trained on mine, and I briefly feared he could hear the way my heart raced.

Dismissing that worry, I hid my panic beneath a tiny smirk and let my gaze flick pointedly into the rich rainforests blanketing the island before looking back toward him, intent clear in my gaze. His brow twitched ever so slightly, jaw tensing beneath a want I was too eager to lose myself in. Without a word, I silently pushed myself to my feet, relieved to hear him following in my wake.

Barely a half dozen yards separated us from the tree line before his arm wrapped around my chest, and I couldn’t hold back the thrilled gasp as he pulled me flush to him, hunger instantly bursting through me at the heat of his powerful form. My hands automatically darted up to clasp his forearm, head tilting back to rest atop his shoulder as my lips readily pulled into a wide grin. I expected him to kiss me, felt myself shifting eagerly in anticipation, but he merely held me like that, watching me with a quiet that I couldn’t help but still beneath. His free hand slowly reached for me, fingers trailing lightly along my jaw.

Only after my body relaxed into him, intoxicated by the gentleness of his touch, did he kiss me, and I instantly found myself relishing in how quickly the world around us faded. It was effortless; forgetting the very existence of reality beyond that moment as I hid in the euphoria of his taste. Seeing him from afar, watching the sharpness of his glare, how readily that impatient scowl stole over his unapologetic face, assumptions of rough hands and sloppy lips were easy to imagine, but Maker, nothing was further from the truth.

Even now, despite my clear willingness for him, his every move held a reverence, as though convinced each second was its own revelation of some treasured secret revealed only through soft touches and the subtle dance of his kiss, and how could I not lose myself in him when he held me like that? The conviction of his worship forbade even a whisper of self-doubt. I felt cherished in a way I’d never before known, and it left be breathless, floating weightless in his embrace.

When he pulled back, haunted eyes searching mine for something I couldn’t begin to understand, I found myself torn, desperate for more of him while grasping for some means of ridding those amber eyes of whatever worries drew that subtle crease between his brows.

“You going to tell me what happened on the beach?” It wasn’t quite a whisper, but there was a softness to his raspy voice that would never cease to send that burst of heat through my chest. Still, I couldn’t begin to reach for an answer, mind still lost in the rush of his kiss. “You looked like you were about to start pacing.” He pressed, and I would have turned from him if I could remember how to feel shame over the want burning through me.

“It was too quiet.” I murmured, and from the way his gaze darkened, I didn’t doubt how thoroughly he understood.

“Not sure how I feel about you only coming me to when you have something you need to forget.” The regret that coiled in my stomach nearly ruined me, instantly sobering me of that thoughtless need as I withered beneath the threat of hurt in his voice.

“Cross…” His name fluttered from my lips absent any hope of finding some means of quieting his heartbreaking betrayal as I turned to face him, hands reaching up to whisper against his jaw, but I couldn’t deny what he’d said, and he knew it. I wanted to sob at the hesitation vainly hidden beneath a growing annoyance.

“Wait…” I barely breathed the hushed murmur before forcing some memory of strength back into my voice as his eyes turned pointedly away from me. “I… You’re right.” I loathed the way those words clawed up my throat. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to belittle this… us…” The fleeting urge to remind him that he’d offer me exactly that: a distraction, sat atop my tongue, rancid and bitter as I ached beneath the guilt of allowing him to feel like this when he’d so effortlessly filled me with that perfect bliss.

“I did look to you as a way to get away from…” Unwilling to force the nightmares into words, I motioned vaguely toward my head before returning my hand to his cheek. “But I swear, Cross… I don’t just want you for that… I want you.” My fingers shifted carefully against the rough stumble, subtly willing him closer to me. “I want you.” I whispered those tiny words with the full breadth of love that danced beneath my skin from his every touch, with the wonder and glee that burst through my chest at even a brief glimpse of his smile.

He didn’t fight me as I gently pulled him down to let my forehead rest against his, and I savored the intimacy of that closeness, thumbs gently sweeping across the ridge of his cheekbones. I didn’t try to claim his lips again, nor did I move to covet the tantalization display of his toned physique laid bare before me. In that moment, I needed nothing more than for him to believe me, that whatever relief his body might grant mine in a fit of passion paled beneath this; the simple act of holding him, of yielding beneath my want for his nearness and knowing he gleaned the same comfort in holding me, and when his arms slowly wrapped around my waist, I couldn’t suppress the shuddered breath that tumbled past my lips, my own arms instantly reaching out to lock around his broad shoulders.

“Do you want to go back to the beach?” I didn’t pull away as I let the words flutter through his hair after granting us a long while to merely bask in each other’s embrace. Without a word, he shook his head, and then his mouth was on mine. A tiny gasp caught in my throat as the sudden touch but found myself desperate for it, breath faltering in a whimper as his earlier tenderness quickly ceded beneath that hunger I’d so wanted to succumb to just moments prior.

He pressed harder into me, crowding me until I had to lean back, frightfully dependent on his touch to keep from falling, and I didn’t try to quiet the moan at that first caress of his tongue. His hand dropped down my waist to slide around my thigh, tugging the limb up to wrap around him, and I could feel the way he smirked at how easily he had me clinging to him.

“Say it again.” It was meant to be an order, but I could hear the need in it, and I offered no hesitation.

“I want you, Cross.” Murmuring the words against his lips, my fingers tangled into his hair, grip tightening just enough to emphasize my desire. Arm tightening around me, he stood up, hauling me effortlessly from the ground. Ignoring the ache of those barely sealed wounds, my other leg jerked up to lock around him as well, barely noticing the deceptively rough bark of a palm tree pressing against my back as my core burned from the heat radiating off him. Just as his hand began creeping beneath the hem of my shirt, a voice called out from the beach, rudely sending reality crashing back around us.

“Keep your clothes on.” Lips twisting into that familiar snarl, Crosshair let out a nearly growled breath, obstinately refusing to set me down.

“The kriff do you want, Hunter?” He shouted, refusing to so much as glance in the direction of his brother.

“We have to head out – wheels up in ten.” Disappointment replaced whatever embarrassment had begun darkening my cheeks, teeth catching about my lip as my body sank beneath a heavy sigh.

“What?! Why?!” He demanded, finally twisting his head back to stare at the foliage still protecting us from view. I tried to free my legs, but his grip only tightened, so I merely waited for his denial to cave.

“Orders came in.”

“We aren’t back from our last orders.” It was a useless objection, and he knew it, but his frustration forbid him from yielding so easily.

“Yeah… these aren’t for us.” Something about the reluctance in Hunter’s voice sent a chill down my spine, and I could feel Crosshair tense with that same apprehension. “They’re for her.” His annoyance instantly vanished, gaze darting to me with a confused dread that I couldn’t help but mirror.

Continue Reading (Extra Scene)

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readyplayerhobi · 1 year

Text

Because, I Love You | 10

; Genre: Fluff, smut

; Word Count: 3.1k

; Warnings: Discussion of outdoor/public sex, oral sex

; Synopsis: According to society, Jeon Jungkook should not be with you. He should be with a younger, hotter and thinner girl instead of wasting his time on you. It’s a good thing Jungkook doesn’t care what society thinks then.

; A/N: So this is just a fluffy one but...I swear you’ll all love it! Please reblog if you enjoyed it so that others can find it too...and leave me comments or send me asks to let me know what you think! I love hearing your thoughts and what you think about this story and the characters!

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Letting out a deep sigh, you close your eyes and simply enjoy the peaceful atmosphere. You didn't know where Jungkook had found this cabin - you'd tried searching on Airbnb - but you certainly weren't complaining.

Set at the edge of a field, bordering woodland and facing a series of empty fields that ended in a dramatic cliff face with the sparkling jewel of the ocean just beyond, this log cabin looked like some kind of fairytale setting. If you ignored Jungkook's Mercedes parked outside. But it was isolated, with each breath giving you the clean and fresh scents of nature, from the dew-soaked grass in the mornings to the sun-drenched ground in the evenings. Combine that with the sweet sound of birdsong and the gentle rustling of leaves in the wind, it was perhaps the best place you'd ever visited.

Like all your stress and worries drained away into the soil and left you with the feeling of calm that only nature could give.

It was perfect, and not at all what you'd expected when Jungkook had asked you to book this week off for vacation. He'd decided that you two needed to go on your first vacation together to celebrate your first anniversary. A belated anniversary, because that had been three months ago but you appreciated the sentiment.

You'd thought Jungkook would want to go somewhere abroad. Given his energetic nature and love of thrill-seeking, you'd fully expected him to choose somewhere like New Zealand for all the physical activities it offered, or as a compromise to you then maybe Greece or Barbados. Somewhere you could relax whilst he still got to do his adrenaline junkie stuff.

Instead, he'd packed up his car and driven you both a few hours until you'd ended up in a rural area where the roads would only fit one car at a time. And then he'd finally stopped at the end of one tiny road, more a path really, with the cabin at the end of it and grinned at you.

Turned out, Jungkook just wanted to spend a week with you without the interruption of people or work. There was no phone signal out here, but there was a television and Jungkook had secretly packed the PS5 and Switch, which meant you'd both played games together each evening. A stocked kitchen meant that you'd cooked dinners together, and he'd even shown you how to bake his favourite cookies. Apparently the only baking recipe he ever remembered.

As well as that, you'd napped a lot with him on both the couch and the bed, taken some long walks through the woods and even ventured down the, albeit terrifying, cliff steps to the beach. And, of course, you'd had a lot of great sex with him.

For the first time in your life, something Jungkook had been very proud of, you'd had sex in public. Okay, sure, the beach was empty and there wasn't anyone within sight but it had been outside where anyone could see! You'd had a cool breeze on your clit whilst Jungkook had thrust into you from behind, the two of you giggling at how the sand kept making him lose his balance. Though sand was a fantastic surface to kneel on when you're sucking the life out of him. Then you'd discovered how uncomfortable the ground was on your bare ass whilst he ate you out in the middle of a goddamn meadow.

But still, you wouldn't deny that they'd been unique experiences and you'd happily do them again. You'd also admit that they were just a little bit romantic.

Because that's precisely what Jungkook was - a goddamn, certified romantic. He'd even packed a whole picnic, by himself, for the meadow trip. Sure, he'd probably imagined fucking you on the blanket instead of being so horny he'd ended up railing you on the ground before he'd found a spot he liked, but it's the thought that mattered.

The sound of shoes crunching on the gravel path in a steady beat interrupts the chirping of birds, and you keep your eyes closed as the sound gets closer. You don’t need to check whether it’s Jungkook or not, the likelihood of some random person running up to this isolated cabin is slim.

As if he can read your mind, Jungkook calls out with a slightly concerned tone to his voice.

“Please tell me you didn’t fall asleep outside when you’re all alone in a cabin in the middle of nowhere! What if some random serial killer found you?” There’s genuine worry in his words, but you can sense the teasing in him as well. Just like you, he knows that the chances of this are slim-to-none, but he’s always been a bit more alert to danger than you. Not that you ignore it, but he just seems more attuned to stuff sometimes.

“Good job you’re not a serial killer then.” You call out, opening your eyes to find him standing in the middle of the path in front of the cabin, just a few metres away from the steps. He’s breathing heavily from his run, and a glance at your phone tells you that he’s been out for an hour now.

“And you’re one to talk, what if you got murdered whilst running on your own in the middle of the woods? Who would protect little old me then?” You flutter your eyelashes at him, causing him to snort in amusement. It immediately makes your eyes trail down his body, appreciatively taking in the solid muscle of him that contrasts against his timeless baby face.

He’d gone out in just some shorts and his favourite pair of running shoes, taking advantage of the isolated area and the warm weather. It wasn’t too hot, and there was a lovely breeze that blew in from the ocean that probably felt nice on his sweat-soaked skin right now. The sweat made him look damn good though, and you bit your lip as you enjoyed how his ab muscles became even more defined with each heavy breath he took in.

How the hell had you managed to end up with this prime specimen of a man?

Scanning up his torso, and making a mental note to lick every part of him tonight for giving you this beautiful image, you make it to your favourite part of your boyfriend - his face. As much as you loved his sculpted body, it was his face that truly made your stomach go fizzy with happiness. He gave away so much with his eyes, and right now he was looking mighty proud of himself thanks to your blatant ogling.

You’d let him have it.

“I think your smart mouth would protect you well enough,” He smirks, and it takes you a moment to remember the previous conversation. “But it’s a moot point as if a serial killer could take me on.”

At that, he immediately poses by flexing his arms and tensing up his abs. It makes you bark out a laugh, and you grab your phone to take photos of him. He gives you one or two poses before simply standing straight and raising his arms into the air, grinning as he throws peace signs. It’s a great shot of him, with the gentle green grass of the fields behind him and the glinting blue of the ocean far in the distance.

Smiling to yourself, you immediately set it as your home screen wallpaper before looking up at him and gesturing to him in general.

“Cute.” You say, grinning at the way his nose immediately scrunches.

“Sexy.” He responds, shaking his head and rubbing at his sweat-drenched hair. To your delight, he’d been letting it grow over the last few months and it was long enough now to tie into a small ponytail, as it was right now.

“Cute.”

“Hot.”

“Sexy.”

"Cute."

“Adorable.”

As expected, he gives up and rolls his eyes with a snort. Jungkook never wins this game with you, but he doesn’t complain either as he climbs up the steps and toes out of his shoes. You’d demanded he leaves them outside when he does his runs here because you didn’t want them stinking up the cabin and he’d agreed without any complaint.

“M’gonna shower.” He says, leaning over to press a kiss to your forehead before disappearing inside.

You only get to enjoy the peace and quiet by yourself for five minutes before he’s back, rubbing his long wet hair with a towel and wearing his usual oversized black Nike shirt and some plain grey sweatpants. He sits down next to you on the upholstered bench and lets out a deep sigh as he practically sinks into the padded cushions.

“Good run?”

“Mmm, it’s so nice here. I could live here if it wasn’t for the fact it’s a million miles from anywhere, you know?” Jungkook hums to himself, letting his head fall onto the back of the bench and closing his eyes.

“Yeah, it’s nice to get away to somewhere like here but…I actually like being able to get to a store within ten minutes and not having to drive over forty minutes. Maybe that’s just because I’m used to being lazy or something. We’re definitely spoiled humans.” Laughing, you hand over the glass of water you’d been holding to Jungkook and watch as he gulps it down greedily.

A comfortable silence takes over between you both for a while, and you contemplate it for a moment. Being around Jungkook isn’t like being around other people, for you. With others, you spend time with them and then get the urge to just go and take time by yourself. They take energy to be around, as much as you love them. But with Jungkook, it’s like he gives you that energy instead.

Sure, you don’t want to be around him all the time, but when he is here, he’s a welcome addition to your life. You don’t feel the need to please him or talk to him, nor do you feel stressed and want him to leave. If you could explain it better, then you would. But all you know is that being around Jungkook doesn’t feel like a strain or a burden.

Glancing over at him, you take in his casual appearance and feel that same sense of fuzziness that you had earlier. Giving in to the intrusive thought in your head, you shuffle over and wrap your arms around his bicep, cuddling it tightly to your chest before resting your cheek on his shoulder.

“You’re my favourite person.” You state, not a hint of questioning in your voice. Jungkook clearly isn’t expecting it, as he jerks with a laugh before shifting to look at you. Or as well as he can do, given you’re this close. It pleases you that even Jungkook gets a double chin at this angle.

“You’re my favourite person, too.” He responds, and you smile happily.

“Good.”

Sinking back into silence, you close your eyes and enjoy his solid warmth whilst the breeze provides a little coolness. You’re pretty sure you’re going to fall asleep, though the amount of napping you’d done over the last few days meant that you should probably at least try to stay awake.

“You awake?” Jungkook asks suddenly, nudging his shoulder and you murmur a response. Part of you wants to pretend, but you instead shift and open your eyes.

“So, if I’m your favourite person,” He starts, and you wonder what weird statement he’s going to come out with next - last time had been a serious discussion about whether you’d love him as a worm. “What are the chances you say yes if I ask you to marry me?”

It takes a few seconds for his words to properly sink in, and you blame it on the fact that you’d almost been asleep only a minute before. Sitting upright, you turn wide eyes on him and take in the utterly serious expression on his face.

“What?”

He looks nervous now, looking away from your gaze as one hand moves to rub the back of the neck. For a moment, he stays silent before he does that familiar head tilt that indicates he’s about to do something and he’s not sure if he’ll be able to do it.

“I know we’ve not even been together a year and a half, but I’m being serious. I want you to marry me, I don’t have a ring because I wasn’t really intending to do this but when you know, you know. And I know. That I want to marry you. We were going to have a baby together and that’s way more permanent, you know? But I just…I love you, I love being with you and I just…I can’t explain it. It feels right to me. But we don’t have to if you don’t want to. Or we could have a long engagement or something, whatever you want.” Jungkook is word vomiting now, and the way he stutters over some of his words and lisps on others gives away just how anxious he is.

Still, you need to fully understand what he’s just asked you.

“Jungkook…are you…are you sure? I mean, you’re only twenty-six and as you said, we’ve not even been together a year and a half. I’m not even your longest long-term relationship! You might change your mind and marriage is serious, it costs money to get divorced. Your mom will lose her fucking mind.” You blurt out, pointing out all the potential issues without even thinking.

There’s a slightly hurt look on his face, and as much as you want to take that away, you can’t. Marriage is serious like you’d said. You didn’t want to end up a divorcee in a few years because he was just enamoured with the idea of it but unhappy with the reality. Jungkook was a romantic, and you didn’t want to be the reason that bright spirit became bitter.

Turning slightly towards you, Jungkook takes your hands in his and gives you his full attention. His hands are trembling slightly, and you reflexively tighten your own to provide him support.

“I’m sure. I wasn’t intending to do this now, or here, but it’s something I’ve been thinking about. I’ve not randomly said it, and it really is something I want. Yeah, you’re my shortest long-term relationship, but you’re also the one that I know is it. I’ve never been with someone I love as much as you, and I genuinely can’t imagine a future without you. Maybe I’m moving a bit too fast but…this is what I want. I wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t. But it’s up to you. If you don’t want to get engaged now then…that’s okay too.”

Biting your lip, you scan over his face and take in how utterly serious he is. He really does want this, and you can’t ever say that Jungkook has been someone to rush into things. If anything, he seems to take too long to decide. It once took him a month to decide he wanted a specific type of speakers, because he ‘didn’t want to waste his money on a bad decision’. So if he was asking this, then you had no doubt that he’d been seriously thinking it over.

And he was right, in that you’d both been willing to have and raise a child together when you hadn’t even been in a relationship for a year at that point. Sure, a divorce cost money but a child would have tied you both together in a way that could never be undone.

Going quiet, you look away from him as you take stock of your own feelings about it. You’ve known that whenever you imagine the future now, Jungkook is there. You’d imagined marrying him and having babies with him, watching him chase around your children and growing old together. It was natural to think those things when in a serious relationship - especially after you’d gotten pregnant. Sure, the thought of him as a dad had an added painful twinge after the miscarriage, but it was still something you wanted to see.

His mom would be angry, but she was angry with anything he did when it came to you. The both of you had come to the sad realisation that she probably would never like you for taking her baby boy away, so whether you got married tomorrow or ten years down the line, she’d have the same reaction.

Jungkook himself was a stable person, he enjoyed his work as much as he could and he earned a decent salary. He contributed his share towards the utilities and never complained about his own household chores, if anything he seemed to actively enjoy some of them. As a boyfriend, he was kind and sweet, always supportive and encouraging you with your decisions. As a housemate, he was considerate and clean.

“Okay. Yes, I’ll marry you. But I think we should probably be engaged for at least a year or so, you know? So we can save money for the wedding and the honeymoon.”

For a second, you’re not sure that Jungkook has actually heard what you’ve said. He’s staring at you blankly, nothing going on behind those eyes and you go to repeat what you’ve said. But then they widen and his lips spread into possibly the biggest smile you’ve ever seen.

“You’re telling your mom, though. I do not want to be there when she finds this out.” You tease, unable to not smile back when he looks so happy. Jungkook snorts in amusement, rolling his eyes before giving you a conspiratorial look.

“How about we tell her the day before the wedding? Or hell, maybe even the day after. I don’t trust her not to do something. But forget about her, we’re engaged!” He practically vibrates as he whisper-hisses the last two words, the excitement palpable in him.

“Oh my god, we have to go get a ring. You can pick out the ring! I was worried that I’d pick out the one you hated or something, but now you can get one you love. Should I get an engagement ring? Can men get one? I kinda want one.” He babbles on, that face that you love so much practically lit with excitement and happiness.

Laughing softly, you cup his cheeks and squeeze slightly. Jungkook’s far too deep into his ramblings to really notice the way you’re just admiring him, and he only stops when you press a soft kiss to his pursed lips. You smile at him when you pull away, stroking the softness of his cheeks with your thumbs affectionately.

“Like I said, adorable.”

#armiesnet #networkbangtan #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #bts fluff #bts smut #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader

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a-killer-obsession · 1 month

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Wavelengths [Killer x Reader, Heat x Reader]

🔞 Minors DNI 🔞

A search for a rumored Vegapunk weapon leads the Kid Pirates to an unexpected new crewmate, with a bloodlust that rivals their own and an incredible power.

CW: Please check AO3 for all current warnings, but general warning for smut, slow burn, serious gore, and really dark themes. AFAB reader, she/her pronouns.

Masterlist || AO3 || Chapter 1

Chapter 5 - Giftwrapped

You get Heat a present, and also do night watch. Things get a little messy.

WC: ~4k

Taglist: @h0n3y-l3m0n05

Nothing was as unsurprising as the splitting headache Heat woke up with the next day, laying in the damp sand on the beach with his head against a log and a half empty bottle of beer in his hand. This wasn't the first time he'd woken up like this after a Kid Pirates party and it wouldn't be the last time. He groaned and stood on wobbly feet, brushing the sand off his clothes. The beach was covered in pirates that would soon wake with equally grueling hangovers. Killer was already making his way through, waking them with kicks to the side, rolling some of them over with his boot. Breakfast duties had already been skipped, as they often were after a piss up, but the log pose was reset and it was time to get their shit together and set sail.

Killer called over to Heat as he made his way through the sleeping pirates. “Oi, go make sure Yin's all good will you? We're setting off soon”

“On it,” Heat yawned, throwing his bottle into the cold fire pit and heading to the ship. They were pirates after all, the thought of cleaning up the beach before they left didn't even cross their minds. He made his way up the gangplank and passed the working henchman who were preparing the ship to leave, through to the converted cabin where you slept.

He knocked on the door with a heavy rap of knuckles, but got no reply. “Oi, Yin, you alive in there?” No reply. “Yin?” Silence. “Okay this is your warning, cover your tits I'm coming in”

He hesitantly cracked open the door and peered inside, opening it further in confusion when he found the room to be empty. ‘Huh, maybe you already woke up?’. He checked the commander's bathroom, ‘nope, not there’. He checked the galley, ‘nope’. He even checked the navigation room, and the balcony that rested between the jaws of the dinosaur skull on the front of the ship, and the lower storage rooms, you were definitely not on the ship.

He made his way out to the deck, scratching the back of his head nervously. Killer had finished waking the crew and was back on the ship, watching over disembarking preparations. His mask turned towards Heat, seeing his clear agitation and a distinct lack of you. “Where's the girl?”

“Not on the ship,” Heat shrugged.

“What?” Killer opened his observation haki and searched the ship for you, finding Heat to be correct, “that can't be right, she wasn't on the beach. Didn't you put her to bed? I didn't see her out on the ship this morning when I woke up”

“Yeah, I did,” he replied, “beds empty though”

“Well fuck,” Killer grumbled, “if she went rogue I really will drown her”

With the worst timing possible, Kid appeared on the deck with Double. They'd been in the navigation room making last minute plans for the route they were about to take. Mentions of a ship recently going down after a sea king attack nearby had them altering the course slightly as a safety precaution.

“Everything all set out here?” Kid asked his first mate as he came to stand beside him.

“Yin's missing,” Killer told him with an annoyed tone.

“The fuck you mean missing?” Kid growled, clenching his fists, “fucking find her”. Just his luck they'd spent months searching for the bitch, only for you to go walkabouts the first chance you got.

“Ain't that her?” Double interjected, pointing to a girl appearing at the edge of the forest that lined the beach, where the path to the town began. They could only see your back, since you were apparently walking backwards, but your purple hair was unmistakable.

“Killer, go get the bitch,” Kid scowled, unimpressed that you'd clearly gone off on your own in secret, but at least relieved that you apparently hadn't made a run for it. Killer quickly jumped from the ship onto the beach and hurried over to you. His strides were long and fast, it didn't take long for him to reach you.

As he got closer he realised you were walking backwards because you were dragging something - some sort of large burlap sack, with something large inside it. Whatever it was was heavy and you were struggling to drag it. You let go and wiped your brow as he approached, sensing the change in vibrations in the air as he got closer.

“Backup, thank fuck,” you sighed, turning to greet him, “can you pretty please help me get this on the ship?”

“Why would I do that,” Killer deadpanned.

“Because it's a gift for our dear Heatie,” you explained, “come onnnn Killer, pleaseeeee? I'm so out of shape, my arms are dead. Some of us have been a starved prisoner for years you know?”

Killer sighed and grabbed the sack, flinging it over his shoulder. The sack yelped and wriggled and he almost dropped it again in surprise. “Okay what the fuck”

“Like I said, its a gift for Heat,” you gave the world's most unhelpful explanation, giving him a cheeky smile.

“Kids pissed with you, by the way,” he told you as he started back to the ship, you following close behind, almost skipping to keep up with him.

“What? Why? What the fuck did I do?” you grumbled.

“You went off on your own,” he told you, “Kid has a rule about that on unfamiliar islands. You never know when a bounty hunter or marine is gonna show up, if you go out on your own and something happens, nobody will ever know where you went.”

“Oh,” you replied, “sorry, I thought it wasn't a big deal”

“Just apologise to Kid and don't pull that shit again,” he said as he approached the gangplank.

You skittered up to the aforementioned pissed off redhead as soon as you got on the ship. “Sorry Captain! I didn't know about the lone wolf rule, I won't do it again!” you cooed, giving him your best puppy dog eyes, not that he could see them past your mask anyway. He grunted and smooshed his large hand against your visor, pushing you aside. He looked at the burlap sack with a raised eyebrow as Killer dropped it unceremoniously on the deck.

“The fuck is that?” Kid asked.

“Gift for Heat, apparently,” Killer told him.

“Huh?” Kid grumbled. Heat looked between you and the bag expectantly as you knelt to open the sack. You unsheathed your dagger and slid it inside the opening of the burlap sack with the sharp side up, slicing open the bag with one swift movement of the well sharpened blade and revealing the badly beaten woman inside.

“You got Heat a woman? You know we don't fuck with rape here,” Kid scowled.

“She's not for raping, silly, shes for torturing!” you squealed gleefully. For normal people it would have been psychotic, but for this group it came off as adorable. Heat's face turned to an ecstatic smile as the woman tried to roll over and he realised who it was.

“Holy shit, really Yin?” He laughed, “You're the fucking best” he slapped you on the back playfully as he crouched to look at the woman. She had a broken nose and split lip, and one of her eyes was swollen shut.

“What am I missing here?” Kid looked between the woman and the two smiling commanders with annoyance.

“This bitch called me a freak yesterday,” Heat explained, “and a zombie. And she fucking made me drop my food. Yin wanted to go kill her but I said I'd just do it today if I got time, didn't want to cause a scene in town yesterday when Yin still needed to buy so much shit”

“So you went and got her yourself?” Kid was looking at Yin expectantly, a little bit proud of her.

“Yeah,” you nodded with a smug smile, “wasn't hard to find her, just kept my ear out for the whiniest bitch in town, broke in, melted her boyfriend's brains, and behold, one skank, gift wrapped for my sweet Heatie~”

“Aw Yin, you shouldn't have,” Heat laughed, giving the woman a solid kick to the stomach, “I love the present, thanks babe.” He grabbed the arm of a passing henchman to get their attention, “Drag this bitch down to the brig, I'll deal with her after we raise anchor”

The henchman grabbed the woman by the hair and dragged her away. It was clear now that she also had a badly broken arm, and one leg was bent the wrong way. She screamed as she was dragged away, her silent, tough girl facade broken as she realised that this would be the last time she saw daylight. The commanders on the deck laughed, Kid roaring with amusement and wrapping his arm around you. His touch made you uncomfortable but you grinned and bore it, still beaming with pride, letting that be the main emotion you felt.

“You're one funny bitch,” he laughed, “go get cleaned up, you're on the next watch”

“Really? Not night watch?” you asked curiously.

“Why would it be night watch? Nobody wants nightwatch,” he questioned.

“Oh, I thought Killer explained my mask functions to you-” you looked between Kid and Killer's expressionless mask, “I can see in the dark, and even under the surface of the water. Putting me on a daytime watch would be a waste of my skills”

“Oh,” Kid stroked his chin and looked at Killer, who had seemingly forgotten to share that tidbit of info. Killer shifted his weight uneasily, “alright then, night watches only for you, starting with tonight. Double, that means you're on next watch after her”

“Fine by me, I fucking hate night watch,” Double replied nonchalantly as he walked away.

You were busy in your room organising the shopping bags that had remained covering every surface since yesterday. You'd spent the last few hours listening to the screams of Heat's gift from the brig, fuck could that woman scream. You were a little disappointed when they stopped, but it was no surprise that a weak bitch like that couldn't survive long. She was all bark, no bite. The screaming had stopped maybe half an hour ago, and you were sure Heat would come find you when he was done cleaning up, otherwise you would go find him to see how it went.

As expected a knock came at the door, followed by the door opening slowly and Heat's head peeking around the wood. You gave him a warm smile and he returned it, letting himself in and sitting on the edge of the bed, watching you fuss with your purchases. You pulled the last item out of the shopping bag in your hand and threw the empty plastic in the corner where a pile had accumulated, before deciding to climb teasingly into his lap. He almost imploded when you settled on his knees, too far back to properly straddle him but close enough to be intimate.

“Did you have fun?” you smiled.

“Uh, yeah,” he coughed, trying to keep his shit together and putting his hands on your waist as casually as he could, “she squealed like a fucking pig!” he laughed.

“I heard!” you giggled, “give me the highlight reel,” you slid off his lap and settled at the head of the bed, spreading your legs and patting the space on the bed between them to invite him over. He kicked off his boots and laid back on the bed with his head between your legs against your abdomen. You giggled looking down at him and traced his jaw with your finger. His heart fluttered at the innocent teasing.

“Oh! The best shit happened,” he grinned up at you, “Killer caught a hog yesterday and was gonna butcher it for the commanders tonight, and he let me have its brains!”

“No fucking way, Heat you didn't!?” you laughed.

“You should have seen how much she gagged when I forced her to eat it! Raw, too!” Heat roared.

You threw your head back with laughter as Heat recounted the torture, “fucking hell Heat, that's fucking hilarious, creative as shit, that'll fucking teach her,” he could almost see your eyes under your visor as you leaned forward again, almost. “You're a fucking funny guy, Heat”

“Hey, you're the real gem here,” he smiled, “I can't believe you snuck out and dragged that bitch all the way here with those scrawny ass arms of yours!”

“Don't remind me, they're still aching,” you stretched your arms out in a show of discomfort, “but it was worth it for this smile,” you said as you looked down at his beaming grin. “I'm guessing she's dead now right?”

“Yeah, fish food,” he replied, “hoped she'd last longer after all the effort you put in to get her here but stupid bitch bled out”

“Damn, that's a shame,” you mused, “well I'm glad you got some fun out of her anyway while she lasted”

“Next time a guy pisses you off let me know and I'll gift wrap ‘em for you,” he told you with a sly wink.

“Aww thanks Heatie,” you lifted one of his hands and gave it a chaste kiss, and you shared a quiet moment just looking at each other. It was sweet, Heat didn't actually expect to convince you to be his girlfriend but it was starting to feel like you were already. Things felt easy with you. It was early days though, he wasn't going to spook you by suddenly getting heavy, he was a gentleman afterall, he would woo you the old fashioned way. He knew right now you just needed a friend, and he was happy to be of service to you. He knew you'd had a lifetime of loneliness, you deserved a friend.

He sighed and started to sit up, very much against his will, “as wonderful as hanging out with you is, I've got shit to do. I'll catch you at dinner, yeah?”

“Of course~” you cooed, spreading out on the bed, “I should probably try get some sleep anyway, I didn't get much before I snuck out and I'm on nightwatch”

“Oh yeah, I forgot with all the fun I was having,” he smiled, sliding his boots back on, “have a good nap doll, I'll wake you for dinner”

“Thanks Heatie~” you yawned, sliding under the covers and removing your mask, grabbing your seastone from the side table, “see you then”

Right on time, you appeared at the foot of the mizzenmast that held the crows nest at ten o'clock on the dot, ready for your first watch. You grumbled a little at being signed up for a chore, but the longer you spent on the ship, the more you felt like you wanted to be part of this crew and pull your weight like everyone else did. You wanted the respect of the other commanders, and the watch was important, only ever entrusted to the commanders. Being included in the rotation meant the others had at least some semblance of trust in you. You moon stepped vertically up the mast to the crows nest, landing delicately on the railing to greet Wire, who had been on the afternoon watch.

“Right on time,” he said as he stood, “did someone give you the rundown?”

“Killer said to wake him if something came up,” you replied as he started to climb over the edge to make his way down the ladder rungs that were attached to the mast.

“He doesn't like using the bell at night unless we really have to,” Wire added, “the crew needs their sleep, he likes to take a look himself before he pisses Kid off by waking him”

“Fair enough,” you mused as you took his place in the crow's nest, “I bet Kid sleeps and wakes like a grumpy bear”

“Yeah, that's about right,” Wire grinned, “waking Kid is basically asking to lose a limb. Anyway, good luck on your watch. Make sure you check every angle, not just ahead of the ship. Seakings can come from anywhere”

“Noted, have a good sleep, Wire,” you smiled.

“Thanks,” he replied with a yawn as he disappeared down the ladder and left you to the watch.

It was a clear night, only a few clouds lingering and no sign of storms on the horizon. The air was brisk, still in reach of the autumn island you'd just come from. You were prepared now though, with your usual jacket and a pair of recently purchased thick fleece leggings, though if it got too cold you could always head into the little cabin that sat atop the main mast. You sat on the small stool that rested against the mast, switching your visor to a mode that allowed for better vision in the dark and let you see to the ocean floor. It was a useful ability, you would see any seakings or enemies long before they would see the Victoria Punk.

It must have been about three in the morning when you noticed a large, dark form in the water. You watched it for a short while, tracking it to determine where it was heading, and approximate its size and speed. You sighed when you realised it was definitely heading towards the ship, and would likely notice it in a few minutes. You quickly jumped over the railing of the crow's nest and moon stepped once before you hit the deck to soften your landing, before power walking to Killer's room.

You knocked hesitantly on the door and waited patiently for a response. An annoyed groan and shuffling of blankets was heard on the other side, followed by footsteps far too light for a normal person to hear. Killer opened the door with a grumble and you bit back a gasp. He was wearing nothing but his hastily grabbed mask and a pair of grey sweatpants. You knew he was ripped but fuck, every tight, perfectly sculpted muscle was on display, and you were glad the visor was masking where you were staring while you soaked in the image of the Adonis in front of you.

He cleared his throat, not at all surprised by your open ogling - your eyes may be hidden but Killer knew a fair bit about hiding behind a mask. You swallowed hard as you tried to bring yourself back to reality and forced yourself to look away from his bare chest.

“Uh, seaking, about four clicks northwest,” you reported, “I can take care of it myself but you said to wake you, and I need backup that can actually swim in case I fall in the drink”

“Right, let me grab my shit,” he said, closing the door in your face. You took the hint and headed back out to the deck. The seaking was definitely closer now, but still didn't seem like it had noticed the ship yet, still lazily moving about as it scanned the water for its next meal. It was moving almost casually, you knew from experience during your time in the marines that it would move faster if it had decided to engage, but it was only a matter of time before it noticed you.

Killer appeared on the deck, with a shirt, and his scythe gauntlets attached to his wrists. He gave you a nod and you took off, moon stepping out towards the beast. You needed to draw its attention to get it to surface. While your ability allowed you to destroy humans with relative ease, seakings had thick, dense exteriors that were difficult to get past. Your usual method of killing them was well rehearsed though, albeit a bit rusty: bait the seaking to the surface, meteor wave its skull. The beast would receive significant force trauma and die instantly. During your time with the marines you'd had ample opportunity to perfect the method, but years of letting your skills rust made you admittedly a touch nervous.

The easiest way to draw a seaking's attention was to piss it off, so you heated the ocean around it, forcing it upwards. It was definitely angry now, and Killer watched from the ship with curiosity as the seaking breached the surface and roared. You didn't even flinch, in fact you looked almost bored as you moon stepped in place above it. As soon as it was breached you moon stepped upwards, and he recognised immediately that you were mimicking what you'd done the day they found you, he guessed you intended to take it out with the same powerful move.

You moved quickly, you had to attack before the seaking went back under the water, so as soon as you had gained enough height you flipped yourself, moon stepped, and dove down as fast as you could, driven down by the force of the moon step and gravity.

“METEOR WAVE!” you called as your heel made contact with the beast's head. The sharp crack of its thick skull reverberated over the water with a visible shockwave and thoroughly impressed Killer, before the skull caved in and the beast's brains exploded everywhere. He was glad you were so far from the ship, because brain matter scattered for miles in every direction. He swore he could hear you shriek in disgust from even this far.

The seaking's corpse slumped back into the water, and you raced the shock waves back to the boat, which swayed a little in the rough waters before you landed elegantly on the deck. You were covered in sea king brains, bits of it dripping on to the deck it wet slaps, and looked pretty fucking unimpressed. Killer just stared at you, a smug aura rolling off him as he took in your disgusted frown.

“They don't usually explode like that,” you pouted, “stupid thing must have taken a couple of cannonballs to the skull recently or something”

You shook your hands and more splatters of brain matter landed on the deck. Killer's shoulders moved up and down in silent laughter at your expense. “Go have a shower, I'll keep watch while you clean up” he wheezed.

“Thanks Kil,” you frowned as you walked away. you didn't miss the fact that he didn't berate you for the nickname for once. “I'll try and be quick”

“Take your time, you did good out there,” Killer told you as he started his climb up to the crow's nest, “Kid will be impressed”

“That'd be great to hear if I wasn't covered in brains right now,” you grumbled as you disappeared into the cabins.

[NEXT CHAPTER]

#one piece fanfiction #one piece smut #killer one piece #killer x reader #massacre soldier killer #heat one piece #heat x reader #kid pirates

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silkylovey · 9 months

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Uncharted Waters

The Outer Banks was a place where the line between privilege and struggle was as distinct as the division between the Pogues and the Kooks. Rafe Cameron, a son of privilege, was known for his wild parties, reckless behavior, and devil-may-care attitude. Y/N L/N, on the other hand, was a Pogue, fiercely independent and determined to make her own way in the world.

Their paths crossed one summer night at a beach bonfire, where sparks flew in more ways than one. Rafe and Y/N were drawn to each other like magnets, and in the heat of the moment, they shared a passionate kiss that ignited a fire neither of them could extinguish.

But they were like oil and water, two people from different worlds, and they both knew it. So, they struck an unusual arrangement, a dangerous dance on the edge of desire and disdain. They became enemies with benefits, seeking solace and pleasure in each other's arms while keeping their hearts locked away.

For months, their secret rendezvous continued, hidden from the judgmental eyes of the Outer Banks' tight-knit community. Their encounters were passionate and intense, fueled by a mixture of lust and resentment. They fought as fiercely as they loved, their arguments echoing through the walls of Rafe's beachfront mansion and Y/N's modest Pogue dwelling.

But beneath the passionate encounters and heated arguments, something deeper was brewing. They couldn't deny the growing attachment, the way their hearts ached when they were apart, and the emptiness that filled them when they weren't tangled in each other's arms.

One stormy night, as the rain poured down outside, Rafe and Y/N found themselves entangled in yet another heated argument, but this time it was different. There was a raw vulnerability in their words, a confession of feelings they had been trying to bury for months.

"I hate you," Rafe shouted, his voice cracking.

Y/N's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I hate you too," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the thunder.

Their passionate hatred had turned into a passionate love, and they both knew it. But admitting it was a step neither of them was ready to take.

In the days that followed, they tried to distance themselves, to break free from the tangled web they had woven. They went weeks without seeing each other, attempting to return to their normal lives. Yet, the void they left in each other's hearts was impossible to fill.

One night, unable to bear the silence and the longing any longer, Rafe showed up at Y/N's doorstep. His eyes were haunted, his voice trembling as he confessed, "I can't do this anymore, Y/N. I can't pretend I don't care about you."

Y/N's heart raced as she let him in, her own confession trembling on her lips. "I can't either, Rafe. I've tried, but I can't stop loving you."

Their love was a turbulent sea, unpredictable and fierce, but it was undeniable. They knew the journey wouldn't be easy, that their love was fraught with obstacles, but they were willing to navigate the treacherous waters together.

As they held each other in the dimly lit room, the storm outside raged on, echoing the tumultuous love that had brought them to this point. They were no longer enemies with benefits; they were two souls desperately in love, ready to face whatever challenges the Outer Banks threw their way.

Their love story was far from conventional, filled with pain, passion, and uncertainty, but it was theirs, and they were determined to make it work, no matter the odds. In the Outer Banks, where the line between privilege and struggle was blurred by the power of love, Rafe Cameron and Y/N L/N were ready to chart a new course together, into uncharted waters.

#silkylovey #rafe obx #rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe fluff #rafe cameron angst #rafe x y/n #rafe cameron imagine #rafe outer banks #obx fic #obx fanfiction

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minarixx · 11 months

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𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 ✯ 𝐀.𝐌𝐢𝐲𝐚

"𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚'𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙠𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 𝙚𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝"

PAIRING. Miya Atsumu x f!Reader

CONTENT. Angst, ADULTERY, unrequited love, childhood friends to NOT lovers.

A complex and emotionally charged story that revolves around the intertwined lives of Y/N and Atsumu and their affair

WC. 4.3k

A/N. Okay I'm going to put it straight. Y/N is dependant on Atsumu which makes it why she appears so 'weak' or wtv. Atsumu doesn't love Y/N, kind of explained in the story which is why this one is super long. This is probably one of my deep deep one shots and there's reasons for their actions. Not defending cheating and I've said it before, this is going to be a deep one. Also its heavily inspired by Takumi and Reira's relationship.

Masterlink - Songs Unwritten

The soft rays of the morning sun bathed the small coastal town where Y/N and Atsumu grew up together. The sound of crashing waves served as the backdrop to the story of two childhood friends who shared an unbreakable bond that even fate couldn't sever.

Y/N and Atsumu had been inseparable since they were little, finding solace in each other's company. Atsumu's childhood was marked by tragedy when he lost his mother at a tender age. Grief weighed heavy on his young heart, and he faced a rough path ahead. But amid the darkness, Y/N stood like a beacon of light, guiding him through the shadows.

When the news first broke of his mother, she found him sitting alone on the beach they had spent countless hours playing as children. The usually lively and energetic boy seemed like a mere shadow of himself, lost in the depths of grief. Y/N approached him quietly, her heart aching at the sight of her dear friend in pain.

"Atsumu," she whispered, her voice filled with gentle concern.

Atsumu looked up, his tear-streaked face meeting her worried gaze. He didn't say anything, but the unspoken anguish in his eyes told Y/N everything she needed to know.

Without a word, she sat down beside him, wrapping her arms around him in a comforting embrace. She didn't try to offer empty words of consolation; she knew that nothing she said could take away the pain he felt. Instead, she simply held him close, allowing him to lean on her for support.

As the waves crashed against the shore, Y/N stayed by his side, offering him the solace he desperately needed. Time seemed to lose its meaning as they sat there, the world around them fading into insignificance. Y/N understood the power of silent companionship, and she was determined to be there for him in his darkest hour.

"It hurts so much, Y/N," Atsumu finally choked out, his voice breaking with emotion.

"I know," Y/N replied, her voice equally choked with emotion. "I can't take away your pain, Atsumu, but I promise you won't have to face it alone."

Atsumu looked at her, gratitude mingling with sorrow in his eyes. "Thank you, Y/N. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You don't have to worry about that," Y/N said, her voice firm with conviction. "I'll be here for you, no matter what. We've always been there for each other, right?"

Atsumu nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, we have."

In the days that followed, Y/N kept true to her word. She stayed by Atsumu's side, offering him a shoulder to lean on and a listening ear whenever he needed it. She helped him make funeral arrangements and stood with him as he bid his final farewell to his mother.

Through it all, Y/N remained a pillar of strength for Atsumu, guiding him through the storm of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. She reminded him of the happy memories they had shared, and together, they found solace in the knowledge that his mother's love would always be with him.

As time passed, Atsumu's wounds began to heal, but the memory of his mother remained etched in his heart. And through it all, Y/N continued to be his rock, the one constant presence in his life, just as she had been since their childhood.

Their bond grew even stronger, cemented by the trials they had faced together. Atsumu knew that he could always count on Y/N, and she knew that her place in his life was irreplaceable.

From their earliest memories, Y/N had been the pure entity in Atsumu's life. She possessed a quiet strength that calmed the storm in his heart. The two of them spent countless hours playing on the beach, building sandcastles and chasing seagulls. But as they grew older, Atsumu's shared passion for volleyball became the center of their universe.

Atsumu discovered his love for the sport during his elementary school years, and Y/N became his muse and inspiration. Because of that, Atsumu soared to new heights, earning a spot in the national team and eventually securing a place in the pro Olympic team.

Throughout their journey in the world of volleyball, Y/N stood by Atsumu's side, managing every aspect of his career. Her unwavering support and dedication were unparalleled. She managed his schedules, arranged training sessions, and took care of all the logistical details, allowing Atsumu to focus solely on his game.

As the years passed, Y/N’s admiration for Atsumu grew deeper, but in the pursuit of their dreams, the world presented them with a harsh reality when Atsumu’s one night stand, Emi, was pregnant.

Atsumu's heart felt like an impenetrable fortress as he delivered the news to Y/N. He revealed Emi's pregnancy with a cold detachment that left Y/N reeling. She had always hoped for a different outcome, but the reality was far from her dreams.

"Y/N, I wanted you to know that Emi is pregnant," Atsumu said flatly, his gaze avoiding her eyes.

Y/N's heart sank, and she struggled to keep her composure. "Oh, I see."

Atsumu continued, his voice void of emotion. "We've decided to get married to avoid any potential scandal. It's the right thing to do."

She tried to hide her hurt, burying her feelings deep within. "I understand, Atsumu. It's important to consider what's best for everyone involved."

But her heart was breaking, knowing that Atsumu didn't care for her the way she cared for him. He saw their night together as a mere blip in the grand scheme of things, while she held onto it like a precious memory she couldn't let go of.

As the days passed, Y/N watched Atsumu prepare for his impending marriage with a heavy heart. She couldn't help but feel a sense of betrayal, knowing that he was marrying someone he didn't truly love, while her love for him remained unrequited.

One evening, as the sun set over the horizon, Y/N found herself seeking solace in their favorite spot on the beach. Atsumu found her there, his face expressionless as he approached.

"Y/N, are you okay?" he asked, his voice tinged with a hint of concern.

She forced a smile, masking her true emotions. "I'm fine, Atsumu. Just thinking about everything."

Atsumu sat down beside her, the distance between them feeling vast and insurmountable. "I know this isn't easy for you, and I'm sorry for that."

Her heart clenched at his words, knowing that he was apologizing out of obligation rather than genuine concern. "It's not your fault, Atsumu. You have to do what's right for you and your family."

Atsumu looked away, seemingly unable to confront the reality of their situation. "I hope you'll still be there for me, Y/N. You've always been my rock."

Y/N fought back tears, her voice soft but resolute. "Of course, Atsumu. I'll always be here for you, no matter what happens."

And in that moment, she knew that her love for him would never waver, even if his heart belonged to another. Y/N understood that she couldn't force him to feel something he didn't, but she also couldn't abandon the one person who had always been there for her.

As the waves crashed against the shore, Y/N found strength in knowing that she would continue to be Atsumu's source of comfort, even if he could never return her love.

He couldn't abandon Y/N, not after all she had done for him. His conscience struggled with the guilt of leaving her behind. Still, he couldn't deny the responsibility he held for Emi and the child growing inside her. The weight of responsibility bore down on him, and he decided to marry Emi, promising to care for her and their child.

Y/N, though heartbroken, put on a brave face and continued to support Atsumu as his friend. She knew he needed her now more than ever, and she refused to abandon him, just as he refused to abandon her. But deep inside, she couldn't help but hope that someday, he would see her as more than a friend and manager.

Y/N understood the complexity of their relationship. She knew Atsumu used her presence and affection to fill the void in his heart, but she couldn't bring herself to deny him. She loved him unconditionally, even if it meant being the second choice in his life.

One day, as Y/N was going through Atsumu's schedule and emails, she noticed a particular message that caught her eye. It was an invitation to Atsumu's wedding. Her heart sank as she read the words on the screen, and a mix of emotions overwhelmed her.

For a moment, she felt a wave of jealousy and heartbreak, knowing that the man she loved was about to marry someone else. But beneath those emotions, she also felt happiness for him, knowing that he had found love and a family of his own.

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes as she closed the email. She couldn't bear to think of a life without Atsumu by her side, but she had always known that this day might come. He deserved happiness, even if it wasn't with her.

With a heavy heart, Y/N decided to confront Atsumu. She found him at the training facility, sweating and focused as he prepared for his next game. She took a deep breath, steadying herself for the conversation ahead.

"Atsumu," she called out, her voice tinged with both sadness and resolve.

He turned to her, a warm smile lighting up his face. "Hey, Y/N. What's up?"

Y/N tried to smile back, but the weight of her emotions made it difficult. "I saw the email," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Congratulations on your wedding."

Atsumu's expression softened, and he approached her, sensing the heaviness in her words. "Thank you, Y/N. I wanted to talk to you about it."

Y/N shook her head gently, not wanting to burden him with her feelings. "It's okay, Atsumu. I understand. You deserve to be happy."

His brow furrowed with concern, Atsumu reached out to cup her cheek. "Y/N, you mean the world to me. You know that, right? You've always been there for me, and I'll never forget that."

A single tear escaped Y/N's eye, and she leaned into his touch, savoring the comfort it brought. "I know, Atsumu. And I'll always be here for you, no matter what happens."

He pulled her into a warm embrace, holding her close. "You're my rock, Y/N. I couldn't have achieved any of this without you."

As much as Y/N wanted to confess her feelings at that moment, she held back, not wanting to put any burden on Atsumu before his big day. She cherished the closeness they shared, even if it was tinged with a bittersweet ache.

The day of the wedding arrived, and Y/N stood at the back of the venue, watching as Atsumu and his bride exchanged vows. Her heart swelled with both joy and heartache as she witnessed the love between them. She couldn't help but wonder if she would ever find a love like that for herself.

Amid the celebrations, Y/N found herself stealing glances at Atsumu, his happiness radiating from him. He caught her eye at one point, and a soft smile played on his lips, as if he could sense her turmoil. It only deepened the ache in her heart.

The aftermath of Atsumu's wedding was a tumultuous time for Y/N. She tried to suppress her feelings for him, burying them deep within her heart while continuing to be the dedicated friend he relied on.

As time went by, Atsumu found it increasingly difficult to keep Y/N at a distance. She had been his sanctuary, his escape from the harsh realities of his troubled childhood. She was the one thing that made life bearable, the pure and soothing melody amidst the cacophony of his past.

But as he matured, he realized that he couldn't keep clinging to the illusion of Y/N as his saving grace. She was a person with her own desires, dreams, and emotions, not just a figure in his life to bring him comfort. He wanted her to be happy, but he struggled to face the reality that maybe he couldn't be the one to give her that happiness.

Atsumu tried to find his own path, embracing his passion for volleyball, pursuing a career as an Olympic athlete and now a married man. He discovered a purpose beyond just relying on Y/N, but deep down, he knew that her feelings for him hadn't disappeared.

Yet Y/N couldn't help but yearn for more from Atsumu. As they grew older, she wanted to be seen not just as his source of comfort but as a woman with her own identity. She wanted to share a genuine connection with him, beyond their childhood bond. Her love for him only intensified as she saw him flourish and succeed, but she also knew that she couldn't sacrifice her own desires and happiness for his sake.

One evening, as the sun set over the beach, Y/N and Atsumu sat side by side, the waves gently lapping at their feet. The atmosphere was calm, and the air was filled with a comfortable silence.

Y/N spoke softly, her eyes fixed on the horizon. "I'm happy for you, Atsumu. I really am. Emi is a wonderful woman, and I know she loves you deeply."

Atsumu smiled, his hand reaching out to pat her on her head, stroking it. "Thank you, Y/N. Your support means everything to me."

Y/N's voice was tinged with vulnerability as she finally mustered the courage to address the unspoken tension between them. "Atsumu, I need to talk to you about something important."

Atsumu's face remained impassive, his guard firmly in place. "Go ahead, Y/N."

Her heart sank but she pressed on, determined to bring their feelings to light. "I’ve been in love with you for so many years now. I don't think I can see you with another woman and live the life I wanted with you!"

Atsumu's eyes flickered, a distant look in his gaze. "Y/N, you're important to me, but you're overthinking things. We're friends, that's it."

Her heart shattered, but she refused to show weakness. "Friends... is that all you see me as, Atsumu?"

He sighed, as if her emotions were a burden he'd rather not carry. "I don't want to deal with this right now. Can we just drop it?"

Y/N bit her lip, holding back tears as she nodded. "Sure, Atsumu. We can drop it."

The silence that followed felt suffocating, filled with unspoken words and shattered dreams. Atsumu's distance was like a cold wall between them, and Y/N felt herself retreating further into her own world of unrequited love.

As the days passed, Atsumu remained aloof, avoiding any conversations that delved into their emotions. Y/N tried to maintain their friendship, but the pain of his indifference was becoming too much to bear.

One evening, as they found themselves alone after a volleyball game, Y/N couldn't contain her emotions any longer. "Atsumu, I can't keep pretending that everything's okay. You're so distant, and it hurts."

Atsumu glanced at her, his expression unchanged. "I have a lot on my plate right now. I can't deal with this emotional drama."

Her voice trembled, her pain slipping through her defenses. "It's not just drama, Atsumu. These are my feelings, and they matter."

He sighed, frustration creeping into his tone. "Look, Y/N, I don't know what you want me to say. I don't feel the same way, and I can't force myself to."

The weight of his words hung in the air, a painful admission of their mismatched feelings. Y/N felt like an intruder in her own heart, unwelcome and rejected.

As the distance between them grew, Y/N felt like she was losing the one person who had always been her anchor. She couldn't bear the coldness that had replaced the warmth of their friendship, but she didn't know how to bridge the gap between them.

In the depths of his heart, Atsumu knew that Y/N had fallen deeply in love with him. Her unwavering support and the sacrifices she made for him were undeniable signs of her feelings. He was aware that she longed for him to see her as more than just a friend, to acknowledge her as a woman, and to reciprocate the love she held for him.

Atsumu was no stranger to the fact that he was the reason for Y/N's dependence on him. He couldn't forget how she had been his haven during their tumultuous childhood, the one person who had believed in him when nobody else did. She had been his comfort, his refuge, and his muse for volleyball, unknowingly becoming the foundation upon which his life was built.

Guilt gnawed at him as he realized that he owed so much to Y/N. He felt an obligation that he couldn't just abandon her even after all the times she had been his guiding light. However, in his conflicted heart, he couldn't find the same depth of emotion for her that she had for him.

Every encounter with Y/N was tinged with a bittersweet sense of duty. He wanted to give her the experience of being seen as a woman, to make her feel desired and cherished, even if it was just for those stolen moments. But deep down, Atsumu couldn't deny that his heart belonged elsewhere, to a woman he was legally bound to and the child they were about to have.

He knew he couldn't deny the truth any longer – Y/N needed to be seen, loved, and cherished as the woman she was. The walls he had built around his heart began to crumble as he saw the pain in her eyes, and he knew that he couldn't keep her caged in the role he had assigned to her.

One night, after a particularly emotional game, Atsumu sought solace in Y/N's presence. They were alone in his hotel room, and he sat on the edge of the bed, exhaustion etched on his face.

Y/N approached him, concerned in her eyes. "Are you okay, Atsumu?"

He looked up at her, his guard lowered, and vulnerability shining through. "I'm just... tired, Y/N. Tired of pretending that I'm happy when I'm not."

Y/N sat beside him, offering her shoulder to lean on. "You don't have to pretend with me, Atsumu. I'm here for you, always."

Atsumu turned to her, his gaze intense. "You're the only one who truly understands me, Y/N. You're my comfort, my refuge."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat, but she swallowed the lump in her throat, not daring to reveal her own feelings just yet. "You mean a lot to me too, Atsumu. You always will."

The tension in the room was palpable, and for a moment, it seemed as though they might bridge the gap between friendship and something more.

Their guard slipped, and the boundaries between friendship and desire blurred. The passion that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long erupted, and they found solace in each other's arms.

In the heat of the moment, they forgot about the world outside, the consequences of their actions, and the pain that would inevitably follow. For a brief time, they shared an intimate connection, but it was far from what Y/N had hoped for. She yearned for more than a fleeting encounter; she longed for Atsumu's love and devotion.

Their affair was a complex dance of emotions, built on a foundation of dependence, gratitude, and unrequited love. Atsumu's actions were driven by a sense of indebtedness, while Y/N's heart was entangled in the love she couldn't help but feel for the man who had become her everything. The affair was born out of a desperate desire to give Y/N what she wanted, even if he couldn't offer her the love she deserved. Atsumu knew that he could provide her with fleeting moments of passion and physical closeness, even if it wouldn't heal the wounds of her unrequited love.

With the weight of their emotions pressing upon them, they gave in to temptation, having an affair that only heightened the complexity of their relationship. Atsumu grappled with guilt and confusion, knowing that he couldn't offer Y/N the love she deserved. Their connection was intense, but it lacked the depth she craved.

When Y/N finally woke up fully, she found herself alone in the hotel room. Atsumu was gone, leaving behind only the faint traces of their fleeting intimacy. The reality of the situation hit her like a tidal wave, and the weight of her unrequited love settled heavily upon her heart.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she realized that nothing had changed between them. Their night together had been a momentary escape, but it hadn't altered Atsumu's feelings for her. He had sought comfort in her arms, but it wasn't love that brought him there; it was his need for solace and a temporary escape from his responsibilities.

The realization crushed Y/N. She had allowed herself to believe, if only for a brief moment, that their connection had deepened into something more. But the truth was evident now – Atsumu's heart belonged to another, and she would forever be relegated to the role of a friend, a manager, and nothing more.

With trembling hands, Y/N wiped away her tears, determined to regain her composure.

For Y/N, it was both a bittersweet moment of passion and a heart-wrenching realization that her love for Atsumu might always be unrequited. She felt like a songbird trapped in a cage of her own making, unable to spread her wings and be her own person.

Y/N struggled to find her own identity outside of Atsumu's shadow. She knew that she deserved more than being a source of comfort whenever he needed solace. She yearned to break free from the cage she had willingly entered and find her own happiness, even if it meant letting go of the one person who had defined so much of her life.

The pain of unrequited love weighed heavily on her shoulders, she found herself unable to let go of Atsumu. The affair they had embarked upon only intensified the conflict within her, as it became a bitter reminder of his emotional unavailability.

Despite the heartache and knowledge that Atsumu didn't truly love her, Y/N couldn't resist the allure of their stolen moments together. She craved his touch, his presence, and the temporary illusion of being loved, even though deep down, she knew it wasn't real.

In the stillness of the night, after each encounter with Atsumu, she would find herself crying, her tears mingling with the tumultuous emotions within. She knew she was just a placeholder, a fleeting escape from the reality. But she was powerless to resist, chained to her love for him like a captive to her captor.

The affair had turned into a double-edged sword, providing moments of ecstasy intertwined with the bitter taste of her unrequited love. Atsumu's distance outside of their encounters became more pronounced, leaving her feeling isolated and alone even in his presence.

Each time she saw him with his wife, Emi, or heard him talk about their future together, it was a painful reminder of where she stood in his life – a secret, a guilty pleasure. The disparity between her feelings and his indifference was a chasm that seemed impossible to bridge.

Y/N knew she was losing herself in this affair, but the love she felt for Atsumu was a relentless force, pulling her back into his arms time and time again. The brief moments of passion only served to amplify her heartache, leaving her feeling more broken than ever.

And yet, she couldn't find the strength to break free. The fear of losing the one connection she had with him, no matter how flawed and unfulfilling, was too great. She clung to their encounters like a lifeline, even as it dragged her deeper into the abyss of unrequited love.

In the quiet solitude of her own space, she would cry silent tears, mourning the love she could never have while convincing herself that this was better than nothing. Her heart may have been shattered, but her love for Atsumu burned bright, a painful flame she couldn't extinguish.

Navigating the complexities of love and heartbreak, clinging to a love that seemed destined to remain one-sided. She found herself entangled in a web of emotions, torn between holding onto Atsumu and finding the strength to let go. But in the depths of her heart, she knew that her love for him was a double-edged sword, both her salvation and her torment.

Trapped in a web of love and dependence. She clung to the stolen moments with Atsumu, even though she knew they weren’t out of intimacy or love. Her heart ached for his love, but she couldn't bear to let him go, not when he was the very reason for her existence.

In the quiet moments after their encounters, when the passion had faded and reality crept back in, Y/N would find herself crying tears of both joy and despair. She cherished the memories of their moments together, yet she couldn't escape the pain of knowing that Atsumu's heart belonged elsewhere.

The bittersweet truth was that Y/N knew that she would forever remain the other woman, a melody destined to play in the background of Atsumu's life, never to take center stage in his heart.

©Minarixx 2023 - please don't copy, repost or translate without my knowledge credit or permission.

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goingtreasure · 11 months

Text

whitebeard and the blackbeard's son | p.jw

pairing: park jeongwoo x reader (f)

word count: 8.3k

genre: angst, adventure, slowburn.

warnings: violence, death, toxic relationships, mention of kidnapping.

synopsis: jeongwoo embarked on a quest to prove himself to his father, blackbeard, by attempting to kill his nemesis, whitebeard. however, he was unaware that whitebeard's true identity would completely alter his path.

author's note: after two years since my last update, i'm back! i wrote this fanfiction some months ago and decided to post it now since the reboot is coming (i'm so excited!). i think of this as a origin story for pirate jeongwoo hehe. i hope you enjoy it as much as i did!

author's inspirations: show - our flag means death (max). song - i bet on losing dogs (mitski)

Jeongwoo had finally accomplished it. After years of meticulous research, tracking ships in secret, studying combat skills, habits, and victims, he had gathered almost all the information he needed to defeat Whitebeard, one of the most notorious pirates of the sea. This was his chance to avenge his father and prove himself once and for all.

As the son of Blackbeard, the infamous pirate, Jeongwoo had grown up in a world of ruthlessness and violence. Blackbeard had collected countless enemies and was feared by even the most dangerous pirates. However, when a new pirate named Whitebeard emerged in the Caribbean, he became Blackbeard's worst enemy, taunting him with his name. Determined to confront the newcomer, Blackbeard engaged in a battle at sea.

During the fight, Blackbeard's crew seemed to have the upper hand, but Whitebeard's intelligence and strategic prowess turned the tide. They damaged Blackbeard's ship, disabled his strongest crew members, including Blackbeard himself, and plundered all the treasure. Whitebeard, however, never showed his face or set foot on their ship, maintaining a mysterious identity. Many believed he suffered from a terrible disease that prevented him from engaging in direct combat. Now, Jeongwoo was about to uncover the truth.

Under the guise of trading treasure on a nearby island, Jeongwoo secretly planned his move. He knew that Whitebeard's crew frequently replenished their supplies on a small island to the east. After carefully avoiding attention and hiding in the island's woods for several days, he spotted a large ship docking on the beach. Observing from a distance, he became certain that it was Whitebeard's ship.

Waiting for most of the crew to disembark, Jeongwoo infiltrated the ship, incapacitating anyone who stood in his way. He intended to execute a silent assassination, killing the captain and escaping and leaving behind a letter signed by himself. Jeongwoo was confident that Whitebeard, who never left his room, would be there. However, as he cautiously opened the door, he discovered an empty room, devoid of any presence.

"Where could he be hiding?" Jeongwoo whispered to himself, feeling a mix of relief and unease. This was the moment he had prepared for all his life, yet something felt off.

He scanned the room, filled with disarray—clothes, medicine, and books scattered around. A large world map adorned one wall, while a plush bed covered in fabrics and blankets dominated the center. Suddenly, he noticed a slight movement coming from beneath the blankets—a rhythmic rise and fall. There was no doubt about it; Whitebeard was concealed there.

Jeongwoo steadied his weapon, standing before the bed, prepared to end the man's life. However, a strange feeling compelled him to see the face of his father's greatest adversary before delivering the fatal blow. With trembling hands, he slowly pulled back the blanket, but the sight that greeted him was unexpected.

Instead of Whitebeard, he found a young woman with white hair, dressed in a beige satin dress with long sleeves. The boy was momentarily paralyzed by the sight before him. This innocent girl had been mistaken for the fearsome pirate captain.

"A girl?" he murmured to himself, unintentionally waking you from your slumber. Your eyes opened slowly, leaving him with no chance to hide within the cabin.

"Hello," you greeted, your voice filled with sleepiness.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" Jeongwoo asked, his voice filled with surprise, unable to comprehend the calmness in your demeanor despite the danger you were in.

"You seem nervous." you remarked, observing his reaction. “My name is Y/N.”

"I came here for Whitebeard." Jeongwoo stated, trying to make sense of the situation.

A faint smile graced your lips. "Well, then you found him. I'm Whitebeard."

Jeongwoo's heart pounded in his chest as he processed the unexpected revelation before him. The girl with white hair, Y/N, claimed to be Whitebeard—the very person he had intended to kill. The tremor in his hands intensified, betraying his nervousness. He took a step back, struggling to comprehend the truth. It seemed inconceivable that someone so young could hold the title of a feared pirate captain when he himself struggled to gain respect among his own crew.

"You're lying! Where is Whitebeard?" Jeongwoo demanded, unable to accept the reality unfolding before him.

Your laughter filled the cabin, carrying a hint of amusement. "I'm not the lying kind. The truth is, my name was originally intended to be Whitehair, but people misheard it as 'beard' and I went along with it. I must say, I'm quite surprised you managed to reach here without facing punishment from my crew. You must be a formidable pirate."

Jeongwoo's confusion deepened even more, his conviction wavered. He found himself unable to act upon his murderous intent as he looked upon the spirited girl who awaited her fate.

"I don't understand," Jeongwoo stammered, his disbelief evident. His grip on the knife loosened, his hands dropping to his sides. The confusion within him battled against the impulse to carry out his revenge.

Chuckling lightly, you settled onto the bed, examining the young man before you. "I can see why you're surprised. Most people react the same way, especially new crew members. By the way, that's a good choice of weapon you have there. Sharp and effective for breaking bones. Luckily for me, I've been feeling like dying these past few days. So, what are you waiting for?" you asked, your gaze fixed upon him.

"I... I can't do it. You're a woman," Jeongwoo confessed, his voice laced with uncertainty.

A glimmer of curiosity danced in your eyes. "You've never killed a woman before?"

In fact, Jeongwoo had never killed anyone before, regardless of their gender.

From a young age, Blackbeard had trained Jeongwoo to embody his strength and eventually succeed him as captain. However, the weight of taking a life was a burden Jeongwoo couldn't bear. Fear gripped him, rendering him unable to follow in his father's ruthless footsteps. Consequently, Blackbeard became increasingly ashamed of his own son, distancing Jeongwoo from perilous battles and treacherous islands, effectively dismissing any notion of him becoming his successor. The once-promising young pirate had been reduced to a mere kitchen assistant.

The very reason he was driven to prove himself, came from his father's relentless pursuit of molding him into a fearsome assassin of the seas.

The absence of a response made it clear to you that he wasn't a killer. Despite your preference for staying in your room, you had a knack for understanding people through their behavior due to all the books you’ve read. The boy, who was around your age, appeared scared and confused. It had been a long time since you last talked to someone young. It made you question if this was how you were expected to behave. Should you also be afraid of life and death just like him? You wondered what those emotions were like.

"Well, if it makes you feel more at ease, I could take my own life and you can pretend it was you," you suggested, trying to ease his discomfort.

"What? Why? Why would you do that?" Jeongwoo asked, bewildered.

"Why wouldn't I?" you responded with a nonchalant shrug.

Jeongwoo felt like you were toying with him, playing games with his mind.

"Cause... you're Whitebeard! You possess wealth and power beyond imagination," he argued.

"I can understand why you might think that," you replied calmly. "But having everything doesn't guarantee happiness or fulfillment. There are things in life that money and power can't provide."

Your words brought a pause to the conversation as Jeongwoo tried to process this perspective. The idea that there could be something missing from the life of someone as influential as Whitebeard intrigued him.

“For instance, I've never had a pet dog because I’m afraid it might fall into the sea. Why would I live if I can't have a dog?”

Wanting to die because of a dog? It didn't make sense to him. After all, many ships had dogs as companions, and the fear of losing one to the sea seemed excessive and irrational. The boy couldn't help the thought that perhaps you were just a crazy person, he found it difficult to take your words seriously.

You rose from the bed, stepping onto the wooden floor with your bare feet, standing directly in front of Jeongwoo. The boy remained frozen, unable to move in your presence. Your intense gaze made him feel self-conscious.

"Will you do it?" you asked, your voice filled with anticipation.

"No..." Jeongwoo admitted, his voice filled with resignation. "I can't."

"Coward." you snapped, your anger replacing your previous calm demeanor.

Without warning, you forcefully pushed the knife out of Jeongwoo's grip, catching him off guard. A struggle ensued as both of you fought for control of the weapon. You pushed the knife towards your own neck, while Jeongwoo desperately resisted, pushing back.

"Stop it immediately!" Jeongwoo pleaded, his voice filled with fear.

"No! I want to die!" you exclaimed, your voice filled with frustration and despair.

The fight abruptly stopped as you both heard the sound of an explosion coming from outside. The sudden noise caught your attention, momentarily distracting you from the intense struggle and bringing a sense of uncertainty to the room. Momentarily stunned by the unexpected blast, you released your grip on the knife, which clattered to the floor. The urgency of the situation overshadowed your previous conflict as you instinctively turned your attention towards the chaos unfolding outside the cabin.

"The ship is on fire!" one of your crewmates screamed, her voice filled with panic, as she desperately tried to open the door to your room. Despite her efforts, the door remained stubbornly locked.

Jeongwoo's eyes widened in alarm, and he turned to you, searching for answers. But instead of panic, he found you smiling to yourself, a strange gleam in your eyes.

"The ship is on fire," you repeated softly, almost in awe.

Confusion and concern filled Jeongwoo's voice as he asked, "What are you talking about?"

Ignoring his question, you hurriedly rummaged through your belongings, searching for something specific. Your hands found a large box of gunpowder, and without hesitation, you tossed it onto the floor of the room. The contents spilled out, forming a dangerous circle of flammable material.

Realizing what you were about to do, Jeongwoo lunged forward, desperately attempting to stop you. But it was too late. The room was already filled with thick smoke, making it difficult to see and breathe.

A struggle ensued between the two of you, the suffocating smoke clouding your senses and heightening the chaos. You fought against Jeongwoo's attempts to restrain you, pushing him away with a desperate strength fueled by a strange determination.

In the chaos of the struggle, Jeongwoo lost his footing and fell to the floor, his body slumping unconscious. The smoke continued to billow around the room, its suffocating grip tightening with each passing second.

Jeongwoo had made many mistakes in his life, but none compared to the decision to kill Whitebeard. Despite knowing that it could lead to his demise, he had hoped for an honorable death, a valiant battle against one of the revered kings of the sea. Now, he was dead, and his crew would remain in perpetual waiting, unaware of his fate.

However, as Jeongwoo surrendered to the embrace of death, a peculiar sensation washed over him. Instead of the anticipated darkness and stillness, he felt a gentle breeze upon his face, carrying with it the unmistakable scent of the ocean. In the distance, a captivating voice sang a haunting melody, unfamiliar yet oddly comforting. It was not the symphony of death, but something entirely different.

Slowly, Jeongwoo opened his eyes, his surroundings shifting from darkness to a blinding brightness. And there he lay, not in the clutches of death, but on the sandy floor of a beach, safe and unharmed. Beside him sat Y/N, the source of the melody that had captivated his senses.

Confusion and relief washed over Jeongwoo as he struggled to comprehend his current state. "Am I alive?" he questioned, his voice filled with a mix of astonishment and gratitude.

You turned your gaze towards Jeongwoo, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. "No, my friend, we both died and unfortunately, we didn't make it to heaven. Welcome to hell." you joked, adding a playful smirk.

Jeongwoo looked at you, slightly taken aback by your remark.

"No, we're not dead. Well, at least you are not dead," you clarified, your tone now more serious.

As Jeongwoo settled down, his eyes adjusting to the sunlight, he couldn't help but inquire about the fate of your ship. "What happened to your ship?" he asked, evident worry in his voice.

"Oh, it burned down completely. I had to carry you all the way up to the beach cause you refused to wake up." you explained, a tinge of exhaustion in your voice. "My crew already gave up on trying to find me. Whitebeard is finally dead."

The weight of your words lingered in the air, mingling with a sense of irony and regret. Jeongwoo absorbed the gravity of the situation, his thoughts drifting to the consequences of his actions and the unpredictable path that lay before them.

"What are you going to do now?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.

"I don't know," you replied, your eyes tracing the vastness of the ocean. "But I'm happy I'm not really dead. And now you can say that you killed Whitebeard as well.”

Jeongwoo clutched his knees tightly as he contemplated the implications of your words. A mixture of guilt and disbelief washed over him, realizing the weight of his actions and the role he inadvertently played in Whitebeard's demise.

"Can I ask you something?" Jeongwoo said. You nodded, signaling your willingness to answer.

"Your room was full of medicine, what is that for?" he inquired, his eyes reflecting genuine interest.

"Oh, that. I have a weak body, you see. That's why I never actively participated in battles. The medicine I had in my room helped me manage the pain and discomfort that came with it." You maintained a positive demeanor, even when discussing serious matters. "I should've thought about that before I burned my room down. Now I have no access to those medicines anymore."

Jeongwoo listened intently, realizing the extent of your struggles and the sacrifices you had made. It deepened his understanding of who you were beyond the legendary figure of Whitebeard.

"Can I ask you something too?" You said with a hopeful look in your eyes.

"Of course," Jeongwoo replied, curious about your request.

"Could you take me with you on your ship?"

Jeongwoo's eyes widened in surprise. "What?"

"See, I want to experience life as a pirate without being the captain. I've always been sheltered and protected, spending my days confined to that room because my crewmates feared for my safety. I want to be a regular crewmate and see what life is like beyond my previous duties. Please, bring me along to your ship."

Jeongwoo hesitated, taken aback by your request. "I'm sorry, but..."

"Please, I promise I won't be a burden. I was always the brains behind our quests, I can help out if you need it. I'll be good company, and once I find a new place to live, I'll leave, I promise!"

"Y/N," he interrupted, seriousness in his voice tone, "I'm a Blackbeard pirate." He braced himself for your reaction, unsure of how you would take the news.

But instead of being devastated or shocked, you looked at him with a knowing smile. "Oh, I already knew. The moment I laid eyes on your knife, I recognized it. That type of blade is exclusively crafted for Blackbeard's crew. I intentionally left yours in my room to make it look like you're the one who caused my death."

Jeongwoo's eyes widened in surprise, his secret now out in the open. "You knew all along?"

You nodded, a playful glint in your eyes. "I told you I'm smart."

"And you still want to join my father's crew?" Jeongwoo asked, concern etched on his face.

"Father? Oh, that's news to me," you replied with a hint of surprise. "But yes, I do!"

"Listen, if he finds out you're Whitebeard, he might do something drastic. I am his son, but I have no idea what he's capable of." Jeongwoo warned, his worry palpable.

"That's a risk I'm willing to take. After all, I'm already familiar with pain." you said, a tinge of determination in your voice as you alluded to your health condition.

Jeongwoo carefully considered the situation, contemplating his father's nature and your resolute spirit. Finally, he made a decision.

"Alright. You can come with me. I'll help you get the medicines you need and we'll disguise your appearance so that your crewmates won't recognize you if they happen to come across us. Having white hair won't exactly blend in well with my crew."

You listened attentively, ready to fulfill your part in the plan.

"But there's one more thing," Jeongwoo continued. "We will have to convince my crew that I killed you, I mean, Whitebeard. It's crucial to ensure your safety. Can you do that?"

A mischievous smile crossed your face as you accepted the challenge. "Consider it done. Together, we'll weave a convincing tale that even Blackbeard himself won't question."

With an agreement in place, you and Jeongwoo embarked on a journey filled with secrets, transformations, and the unpredictable dynamics of a notorious pirate crew.

The crew of Blackbeard was going about their usual activities. Some pirates diligently cleaned the deck, others sharpened their weapons, and a few studied maps. Amidst this routine, the sharp-eyed navigator, Jaehyuk, spotted a tiny boat approaching their ship. He recognized it instantly—Jeongwoo had returned after two long months.

"Jeongwoo is back on the ship!" Jaehyuk’s voice echoed through the air, grabbing the attention of the sailors.

The crew quickly gathered, eagerly awaiting their comrade's arrival. As Jeongwoo stepped onto the deck, he was warmly embraced by his friends.

"Welcome back, mate!" Jihoon, Blackbeard's trusted right-hand man, exclaimed with joy.

However, Jeongwoo's demeanor betrayed a sense of terror rather than excitement. He surveyed the surroundings, his father conspicuously absent. Soon, he would have to reveal the lie he had planned.

"Where's the captain?" Jeongwoo inquired, his voice tinged with apprehension.

"Blackbeard is in his cabin. We're preparing to dock at a new island." Jihoon responded, noting the unusual behavior displayed by the young pirate. "Is something the matter?"

Without uttering a word, Jeongwoo swiftly made his way towards his father's quarters, leaving Jihoon with unanswered questions.

"Well, look who we have here..." Doyoung, the ship's chef, remarked with a sly grin as he peered down at the boat beside the ship, catching sight of you.

Jeongwoo hesitated for a moment before mustering the courage to knock on his father's door. He did it and Blackbeard's voice boomed from within, "Who is it?"

"It's me, Captain. I'm back." Jeongwoo responded, his voice slightly shaky.

There was a brief pause before Blackbeard granted him entry. Jeongwoo pushed open the door and stepped into the room, which resembled more of an office than a living space. A large desk cluttered with papers and boxes of weapons dominated the room's center.

"Hello, Father," Jeongwoo greeted, standing before the imposing desk. Blackbeard remained engrossed in his maps, not bothering to look up.

"I have something important to tell you," Jeongwoo continued, his voice earnest. "I lied about going to trade treasure. In truth, I've been working on a plan to eliminate a rival captain. And... I succeeded. I killed him and burned his ship, leaving one of our knives as proof. I'm certain the news will reach you soon."

"I understand. But you didn't mention the crucial part," Blackbeard stated, his voice laced with curiosity. He fixed his intense gaze on Jeongwoo, waiting for the revelation. “Whom did you kill?”

Taking a deep breath, Jeongwoo summoned his courage and spoke, his voice tinged with both apprehension and resolve. "I... I killed Whitebeard, sir," he confessed, the weight of his words hanging in the air. The significance of his action was not lost on either of them.

He looked down, awaiting his father's reaction, but to his surprise, Blackbeard remained focused on his maps, seemingly unperturbed by the revelation.

"Father?" Jeongwoo stammered, seeking acknowledgment.

Without looking up, Blackbeard replied with a dismissive tone, "I heard you. If what you say is true, then I will wait for the news to reach me in due time."

"Additionally, I brought someone back with me to the ship. I hope that's not a problem." Jeongwoo said.

"Your guest is your responsibility. Now, return to your usual duties. "

Jeongwoo's heart sank at his father's lack of response. It seemed that his confession had fallen on deaf ears. He couldn't help but wonder what lay behind his father's impassive facade.

After leaving his room, Jeongwoo hurried to the boat to bring you up to his room. However, to his surprise, you were no longer there. His crewmates had already taken the initiative to escort you to Jeongwoo's quarters. As he entered the room, he noticed Doyoung lingering by your side, a flirtatious smirk on his face.

"Here's some clothes from our shortest crewmates. These are men's outfits, but it might fit you for now!" Doyoung said, placing the garments in your hands. He made a subtle move, his hand briefly brushing against yours in a flirtatious manner.

Jeongwoo's annoyance grew as he witnessed Doyoung's advances. It seemed that his friend couldn't resist flirting with any woman he encountered.

"Oh, Jeongwoo. Hi!" Doyoung greeted, his playful tone evident. "Did Jeongwoo tell you he's my assistant?"

"I think that's enough, Doyoung" Jeongwoo interjected, his voice tinged with annoyance.

Noticing the tension, you decided to break the ice. "Hey, how did things go with your father?"

Jeongwoo glanced at Doyoung and then turned to you. "Doyoung, could you excuse us for a moment? I need to talk to Y/N privately."

Doyoung shrugged, his flirtatious demeanor fading slightly. "Sure thing, Jeongwoo. I'll catch up with you later."

As Doyoung left the room, Jeongwoo closed the door behind him, creating a sense of privacy for your conversation.

"Did you tell him?" you asked, your curiosity piqued.

"Yes, I did. But he didn't believe me," Jeongwoo replied, frustration evident in his voice. He paced back and forth within the confines of the small room, trying to process his father's disbelief.

"I see," you nodded, understanding the situation. "Let's not dwell on it for now. It's only a matter of time before news of my... his death spreads throughout the Caribbean."

Jeongwoo sighed, releasing the tension in his brow. "I hope you're right," he murmured, his thoughts preoccupied with the uncertainty of their plan. He shifted gears, changing the topic. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm doing well," you replied, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. "The medicine we got on the way is helping a lot with the pain. Your crew has been welcoming and friendly."

Jeongwoo's expression softened, glad to hear that you were finding some comfort amidst the unfamiliar surroundings.

He took a better look at you, taking in your changed appearance. The clothes you wore were clearly mismatched and of questionable quality, and your long hair was concealed beneath a knit cap. The shoes on your feet seemed ill-fitting and out of place.

"Once we land on a commercial island, I'll make sure to get you proper clothing," Jeongwoo assured you, his voice filled with determination.

You nodded appreciatively, grateful for his consideration.

"This is my room. It's very small compared to yours, but it's the only one on the ship. At least I have one advantage as the captain's son," Jeongwoo chuckled, a hint of self-deprecating humor in his tone. "You can keep it to yourself."

"Really? But where will you sleep then?" you asked, concerned about his sleeping arrangements.

"With the other crewmates on the deck," he replied nonchalantly.

"Well, if you can sleep on the floor with them, you might as well sleep on the floor here," you suggested.

"I'm fine, don't worry," he assured you.

"Come on, we've been camping together all these past days. There's no difference between that and sharing a room," you reasoned.

"Fine, I'll think about it. But for now, I have to attend to my duties. Stay here, and we can talk later," Jeongwoo said, his attention turning to his responsibilities.

"Your duties as the cook's assistant?" you teased playfully.

"Hey, stop it!" he exclaimed, a faint smile gracing his face as he left you alone in the room.

The rest of the day deviated from your usual routine. In your previous life as Whitebeard, your days were consumed by studying and strategizing. However, in these past few days with Jeongwoo, you had taken on the role of his mentor, teaching him the art of combat and imparting your knowledge. It has been an enjoyable experience for both of you.

Now, with a moment of solitude, you seized the opportunity to remove your knit cap, allowing your hair to cascade freely. As you explored Jeongwoo's belongings, you stumbled upon a knife. Remembering his words from earlier, you made a decision. Determined to embrace this new chapter in your life, you courageously chopped off all of your white, long hair, leaving it shorter than Jeongwoo's own hair. It symbolized a fresh start, a declaration of your commitment to this new identity.

When Jeongwoo returned to invite you to dinner, he was taken aback by your new visual. The sight surprised him, but it also reassured him of your determination and commitment to this new chapter. You informed him that you weren't hungry at the moment, so he kindly brought you a plate of food to enjoy later.

As the night settled in, Jeongwoo made the decision to accept your request to become roommates. He settled himself on the floor while you took the bed, contemplating what the future held in store for both of you.

The next morning, a loud knock on Jeongwoo's door jolted him awake. Doyoung's voice came through, urgently informing him that Blackbeard wanted to see him. Panic surged through Jeongwoo as he realized you were no longer in your bed. He sprang into action, hastily making his way to the deck, anticipating the worst.

To his astonishment, instead of a tense confrontation, he was greeted with lively music and jubilant celebrations. The crewmates were in high spirits, reveling in the festivities.

“He’s awake!” Doyoung called out, drawing everyone's attention.

Blackbeard turned towards his son, his eyes filled with pride and joy. He opened his arms, welcoming him with warmth.

"My son," he said, placing a hand on Jeongwoo's shoulder. "Last night I sent Jihoon to the nearest island to verify the information you shared. He found this." Blackbeard retrieved a newspaper from his coat and handed it to Jeongwoo. The headline read: "Pirate Whitebeard killed by a member of Blackbeard's crew."

Jeongwoo looked up, his confusion deepening as he saw his father's wide grin. "I am proud of you, son." Blackbeard proclaimed, turning to address the rest of the crew. "My son has killed Whitebeard!" His words were met with cheers and applause, filling the air with jubilation.

Jeongwoo stood in disbelief, his emotions swirling. The truth had been accepted, and his father's pride washed away any doubts he had carried. It was a moment of validation and a turning point in his journey as a pirate.

"Where's Y/N?" Jeongwoo inquired, scanning the surroundings.

"Your new companion? She's over there, reading books to the boys!" Blackbeard pointed towards the stairs where you sat, engrossed in storytelling for the crew members. "It's a rare find to have someone so smart and well-read among us!"

Jeongwoo's heart swelled with a mix of emotions as he watched you captivate the crew with your storytelling. Gratitude, pride, and a lingering sense of guilt churned inside him. He had never felt valued by his crew before, and his father had never expressed pride in him until now. The conflicting emotions gnawed at him, but he couldn't deny the happiness that bloomed within.

Doyoung, ever exuberant, nudged Jeongwoo towards the festivities. "Let's celebrate!" he exclaimed, urging him to join the merry chaos unfolding around them.

And so they celebrated, laughter and music filling the air throughout the day. Jeongwoo revealed the joyous atmosphere, savoring the newfound recognition and acceptance. Yet, underneath it all, the weight of his guilt remained, a constant reminder of the choices he had made.

The following day, Jeongwoo found himself relieved of his duties in the kitchen. Blackbeard had a different plan for him - to train his battle skills under the guidance of Jihoon. It was a clear indication that his father saw potential in him beyond being a mere cook's assistant.

Meanwhile, you were slowly carving out your own place on the ship. Your ability to read and your intelligence had garnered respect from the crewmates. You found yourself aiding them with your knowledge, and even Blackbeard himself sought your assistance. In return, you received new clothes more suitable for a female pirate, as well as supplies of medicines and books to feed your thirst for knowledge.

Jeongwoo, too, experienced a transformation. He was bestowed with a new sword, a stylish monocle, and a pirate hat that accentuated his growing stature within the crew. Everything seemed to be falling into place, almost too perfectly.

As the months passed, Jeongwoo vowed to prove himself even more, to earn his place honestly and make his father truly proud. Yet, deep inside, despite the newfound recognition and joy, he couldn't fully embrace it without confronting the truth that simmered beneath the surface.

"Land ahoy!" Jihoon shouted, breaking the silence in the ship.

Blackbeard, standing beside Jeongwoo, turned his attention to his son. "Do you think that's the right island?" he inquired, testing Jeongwoo's knowledge and instincts.

"Yes, sir." Jeongwoo responded confidently, his gaze fixed upon the island ahead.

You, too, recognized the island. It held a special place in your memory, as it was rumored to be the location of an ancient treasure. However, you had never had the opportunity to search for it, as your fellow sailors deemed it too dangerous for you to venture ashore.

“Let me see…” Blackbeard assessed his crew, pondering who should accompany him on this expedition. After a brief pause, he made his decision. "Jihoon, Junghwan, Jeongwoo... and Y/N," he announced. "The four of you will join me. The rest can remain on the ship."

The crew members were taken aback by his decision to bring you, a girl, along on the expedition. They were well aware of the island's dangers, knowing that other pirates might be lurking there. However, despite their surprise, no one dared to intervene or question their captain's choice.

Blackbeard's trusted right-hand man, approached you with a serious expression. "Can you handle a sword?" he inquired, assessing your combat abilities.

"I'm actually better with guns," you replied confidently, recognizing your own strengths.

Jihoon nodded in understanding, reaching into his pocket and retrieving a gun, which he handed to you. "Good choice." he remarked, acknowledging your preference and arming you accordingly.

As you accepted the weapon, a sense of determination washed over you. “Thank you.”

You noticed Jeongwoo stealing glances at you with his familiar anxiousness. Understanding his concern, you nodded reassuringly, silently communicating that you were prepared for the journey ahead.

After the ship docked on the island, the five of you disembarked and ventured into the forest. The dense vegetation made progress difficult, but Blackbeard and the other two crewmates forged a path ahead, diligently following the directions on the map while clearing obstacles along the way. Jeongwoo and you trailed a few steps behind them, engaged in a quiet conversation.

"You should have said you didn't want to come," Jeongwoo voiced his worry.

"Why would I? It sounds like an adventure," you replied with a hint of excitement in your voice.

"But it's dangerous, especially for you." he expressed his concern.

"Don’t underestimate me, Jeongwoo. Despite my limitations, I still possess a wealth of experience." you assured him confidently. "I was once a great fighter before my health condition started to manifest. In the early days of my crew, I always embarked on new adventures.”

Jeongwoo's apprehensive expression softened as he took in your words. He couldn't help but appreciate your bravery and determination, even if it worried him.

"I'm actually glad you came with us..." Jeongwoo admitted. "I don't think i could do it without you."

"Absolutely, we're a team now," you replied. "A crew within the crew!"

The boy couldn't help but think about how different you and Blackbeard were. While you were known for your kindness and care, Blackbeard was renowned for his strength, brusqueness, and his position at the forefront of battles. The juxtaposition of your gentle nature and his fierce demeanor struck a chord with Jeongwoo, prompting him to realize that not every captain had to conform to the same mold.

As you continued your trek through the dense forest, a sudden shift in the atmosphere caught your attention. Your instincts heightened, and you swiftly halted your movement, causing Jeongwoo to turn towards you, a questioning look on his face. With a finger pressed to your lips, you silenced him, your senses alert and focused.

A strange, almost imperceptible sound reached your ears, causing a shiver to run down your spine. It was a sound that didn't belong in the natural rhythm of the forest. Gripping the gun that had been entrusted to you, you prepared yourself for the unexpected.

Breaking the silence with a commanding voice, you called out into the surrounding wilderness "We know you are here! Show yourselves!"

The declaration startled not only Jeongwoo, but also Blackbeard, Jihoon, and Junghwan. They turned their heads, scanning their surroundings with wide eyes, suddenly aware of the imminent threat.

In a matter of moments, the once seemingly tranquil forest came alive with movement. Figures surged from the foliage, surrounding you and your crew in a threatening formation.

"I see you have a map here," one of the enemy pirates jeered, a mocking laugh escaping his lips. "Give me that, big boy," he taunted.

The audacity of the pirate's words sent a ripple of amusement through the crew, as they witnessed someone daring to challenge the infamous their captain. Blackbeard's laughter echoed through the air, a deep, menacing sound that reverberated with power.

Without hesitation, Blackbeard drew his sword and his crewmates followed suit. The clash of steel filled the clearing as the two opposing forces collided in a fierce battle.

You and Jeongwoo fought side by side initially, hwever, the sheer numbers and tenacity of the opposing pirates overwhelmed you. In the chaos of the skirmish, you found yourself pushed back, stumbling and falling to the forest floor. But Jeongwoo remained in his protection, his unwavering loyalty shining through.

The battle raged on. Each swing of a sword, each evasive maneuver, and each determined strike propelled the conflict forward. The forest floor became a battleground, marred by the footprints of those engaged in the struggle.

Despite the enemy's relentless assault, Blackbeard's crew fought with a ferocity and skill that set them apart. The enemy pirates, though formidable, paled in comparison to the experienced warriors under Blackbeard's command.

Finally, the tides of battle began to turn in your favor. The enemy pirates, weakened and disheartened, succumbed to the relentless assault of Blackbeard's crew. The forest grew quiet, the heavy breaths of combatants punctuating the stillness.

As the final enemy pirate fell, defeated and broken, a sense of triumph and relief washed over the clearing. The remaining combatants stood tall, their bodies bruised and bloodied, but their spirits unyielding. Blackbeard's crew had emerged victorious, their reputation for strength and indomitable willpower reaffirmed.

Blackbeard firmly grasped the pirate who had dared to speak insolently before, his powerful hand closing around the young man's neck. Bloodstains marred the defeated boy's battered face, yet he still managed a defiant smile through the pain.

As you struggled to rise from the forest floor, Jeongwoo hurried to your side, concern etched across his features. He noticed that your white hair, previously covered by a knit hat, was now exposed. A sense of urgency filled the air as you frantically searched for the lost hat amidst the sand. Jeongwoo, ever attentive, joined in the search, determined to find it for you.

However, before the hat could be retrieved, Blackbeard's commanding voice broke through the commotion. "Jeongwoo? Come here, son," he beckoned, his grip on the pirate tightening as he pressed him against a nearby tree.

Jeongwoo obeyed, making his way towards his father's imposing figure.

As Jeongwoo stood beside Blackbeard, his father's piercing gaze bore into the captive pirate. Blackbeard's free hand reached into his coat, retrieving a knife adorned with the unmistakable mark of Blackbeard's crew. The knife, reminiscent of the one he had used when he first encountered you.

"Take this knife," Blackbeard commanded, placing it in Jeongwoo's hand. "Let's teach this kid a lesson. Show me exactly what you did to Whitebeard."

Jeongwoo's heart pounded in his chest as the weight of his father's expectations settled upon him. He tightened his grip on the knife, his fingers trembling ever so slightly.

Blackbeard callously dropped the defenseless pirate to the ground, creating a space for his son to reenact a murder that had never occurred. His request bore down on Jeongwoo, leaving him disoriented and unable to think straight. He had never imagined his father would be capable of demanding such a horrific act, yet deep down, he knew he shouldn't have been surprised.

"Go ahead, son," Blackbeard urged, his voice cold and demanding. "Kill this bastard and burn his body afterwards. Show us that you're capable of being my successor."

Jeongwoo stood frozen, his mind in turmoil. Every fiber of his being rebelled against the notion of carrying out his father's command. The weight of the knife in his hand felt like an anchor, dragging him into an abyss of moral conflict.

Time seemed to stand still as a deafening silence enveloped the forest. Blackbeard's frustration boiled over, his anger erupting in a primal scream that reverberated through the air.

"SHOW US!" Blackbeard bellowed, his voice filled with rage and disappointment.

But Jeongwoo couldn't bring himself to carry out such a heinous act. He refused to become a mere pawn in his father's ruthless game, to succumb to the darkness that Blackbeard represented.

"I won't..." Jeongwoo whispered, his voice barely audible.

"What? What the hell did you say?" Blackbeard seethed, his face contorted with anger.

Summoning his courage, Jeongwoo spoke with a newfound strength. "I said I won't kill him!" he declared, his words clear and resolute.

Instantly, his father's fist collided with his face, a brutal punch that sent Jeongwoo sprawling to the ground. The force of the blow reverberated through the air, the sound of impact echoing in the silence that engulfed the scene. The crew stood frozen, their gazes fixed upon the fallen young man, a mixture of shock and disbelief etched upon their faces.

"Enough!" a commanding voice rang out, cutting through the tension. Surprisingly, it was you.

Standing tall and defiant, you aimed your gun directly at Blackbeard himself.

"Put an end to this madness, Blackbeard," you demanded, your voice steady and unwavering. "Your son has made his choice, and you will respect it."

A stunned silence descended upon the forest as all eyes turned to you, the unexpected voice of reason in this chaotic scene.

"Who do you think you are to talk to me like this?" Blackbeard screamed, his voice filled with fury and disbelief.

"Whitebeard..." a voice interjected, joining the tense conversation. It was the defeated pirate whom Jeongwoo had refused to kill. He spoke slowly, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "I've always heard whispers on my island, rumors that a young girl was kidnapped from our church to serve as a scribe on a pirate ship, but instead she became the captain. The girl with the unmistakable white hair. Now I see, my people were right all along.”

The revelation hung in the air, casting a spell of astonishment over the assembled crowd.

Blackbeard's face contorted with a mixture of emotions—shock, denial, and a flicker of recognition. The realization that the formidable Whitebeard, revered as a fierce male pirate, was in fact a kidnapped child who had seized her own destiny.

In that moment, the power dynamics shifted, eroding the foundation of established hierarchies.

As the crew stood frozen in shock at the revelation, the fallen enemies seized the opportunity to strike back. Swiftly, they immobilized Junghwan and Jihoon, their movements deft and calculated. Meanwhile, Jeongwoo remained sprawled on the ground, still recovering from the forceful blow he had received.

Blackbeard regained his senses and unsheathed his sword, charging towards you with lethal intent. His eyes burned with rage and his sword gleamed menacingly in the sunlight. But before he could reach you, a resounding gunshot pierced the air, causing Blackbeard to halt in his tracks.

He clutched his chest, his hand stained with crimson blood, as his body crumpled to the ground.

The source of the gunshot was not you, however; it was the defeated pirate who had found an opportunity for redemption. He had chosen to intervene, taking justice into his own hands.

You rushed to Jeongwoo's side, your hands cradling his face gently as you tried to convey the depth of your emotions. The confusion in his eyes slowly gave way to clarity as the reality of the situation settled upon him.

"Jeongwoo..." you whispered, your voice trembling with a mixture of sadness and compassion.

He looked at you, his gaze filled with uncertainty and searching for answers. "Y/N... What happened to my dad?" he asked, his voice tinged with apprehension.

"Jeongwoo..." you began, your voice catching in your throat as tears welled up in your eyes. "I'm so sorry..."

Before you could finish your sentence, the assassin who had intervened earlier, stood before you, interrupting the somber moment. He addressed you respectfully, seeking confirmation of his suspicions.

"Milady," The boy spoke, his tone filled with reverence. "Was I right? Are you the girl who was kidnapped from Pueblo Esperanza?”

You nodded amidst your tears, acknowledging the truth. "Yes. It is true."

"My name is Haruto. I lived there as well. I think I recall seeing you when I was young. A white-haired girl like is not easy to forget.” He said, extending his hand towards you. "We should leave. Their crew is now aware of our presence, and they'll come searching due to the gunshots. I can guide us to safety."

Your gaze shifted briefly to Jihoon and Junghwan, who were bound and held captive by Haruto's crewmates. Then, your attention returned to Jeongwoo, his expression clouded with conflicting emotions.

"Jeongwoo, please, come with me." you pleaded, tears streaming down your face.

"Did you kill him?" He asked, his mind still confused because of the attack he suffered.

"I didn't kill your father. I never wanted any of this."

Jeongwoo's eyes narrowed as he processed your words, the weight of his own emotions evident. He uttered his thoughts slowly, his words heavy with regret and pain. "I should've killed you first."

The anguish in his voice pierced your heart, and you recoiled as if struck by his words. Desperate to reach him, to bridge the growing chasm between you, you moved your face closer to his, your voice filled with a mix of sorrow and determination.

Desperately, you pleaded with Jeongwoo, tears streaming down your face. "Please, listen to me… I can't do this without you…" you begged, your voice filled with anguish.

But Jeongwoo's response was a soft whisper, barely audible. "Don't touch me."

The weight of his words struck you like a blow, leaving you stunned and heartbroken. Slowly, you rose to your feet, your eyes devoid of any remaining hope or emotion. In that moment, you felt a profound emptiness settle within you.

You turned to Haruto and accepted his outstretched hand. "Don't kill them," you uttered, your voice barely a whisper, but filled with a resolute plea.

Haruto met your gaze, his expression unreadable. "As you wish," he replied, his tone tinged with a mix of understanding and restraint.

As you bid farewell, there was a bittersweet feeling in the air, knowing that your time together had come to an end. And thus, your journey took a different path from Jeongwoo. The circumstances had led you to part ways, each pursuing your own destiny.

After regaining his senses, Jeongwoo found himself confined to his father's bed on the ship. For two weeks, he secluded himself in that room, needing time to process the overwhelming events that had unfolded. Memories and emotions swirled within him as he struggled to come to terms with the loss of his father.

When he finally mustered the strength to step out of the room, the crew's solemn faces confirmed the grim truth—Blackbeard was no longer alive. The weight of grief settled heavily upon Jeongwoo's shoulders, a reminder of the void left by his father's absence.

In the midst of this somber moment, another revelation awaited Jeongwoo. The crew had chosen Jihoon as the new captain, recognizing his strength and leadership qualities. However, Jihoon surprised everyone by stepping down from the position. He declared that Jeongwoo had always been the true successor, even if his father had never explicitly acknowledged it.

Jeongwoo's heart swelled with a mix of emotions — grief for his father's passing, astonishment at Jihoon's unwavering support, and a newfound sense of responsibility. The weight of his heritage and the expectations of the crew now rested upon his shoulders.

For his first order as the new captain, Jeongwoo didn't request weapons or treasure. Instead, he had a different goal in mind. He gathered the crew together and instructed them to bring forth all the maps they had in their possession. It was time to embark on a quest to uncover a specific place, a place of significance.

As the crew members spread out their maps on the deck, Jeongwoo's eyes scanned the collection. He studied each map carefully, searching for a particular name that held deep meaning to him.

"I found it..." Jeongwoo spoke the words aloud, his voice filled with a mix of anticipation and determination. With a steady hand, he traced the outline of a small island on his own map, marking its location.

Pueblo Esperanza, the village you were born in.

You awoke in a cozy bed, the gentle breeze and melodious chirping of birds filling the air around you. As you rose from the bed, the cool touch of the concrete floor greeted your bare feet.

Casting a glance at the mirror, you took in your appearance. Your hair had grown, cascading down to your shoulders, and you wore a comfortable nightgown. With a sense of purpose, you reached into your bag and selected a simple dress, swiftly changing into it. Slipping on a pair of shoes, you completed your morning preparations.

Exiting the room, you made your way to the living room of the house. There, seated at the table, was a woman dressed in a religious outfit. As she patiently waited, a warm smile graced your lips.

"Good morning," you greeted her, your voice filled with genuine kindness.

"Oh, good morning, dear," she responded kindly. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes," you replied. "I'm still adjusting to being on land instead of the ocean, though."

"Well, you better not get too used to it if you plan on returning," she responded, a hint of amusement in her voice. "Haruto seems quite eager to come back to the sea."

You contemplated her words for a moment before expressing your thoughts. "Well, he only came here to visit, but... I still haven't decided if I want to continue my life as a pirate."

The woman nodded with a sense of understanding. "That's perfectly alright, my dear. You are welcome to stay here at the church for as long as you need."

"I appreciate that," you replied, a sense of gratitude in your voice. "I have a feeling that Pueblo Esperanza has many things in store for me."

author's note 2: i'm so sorry about the sad ending T-T... please don't be mad a me haha. i'm thinking about writing a part 2, but i'm still not sure... anyway, i'm sorry again!

#treasure scenarios #treasure imagines #jeongwoo imagine #park jeongwoo scenarios #park jeongwoo imagines #jeongwoo scenarios #yg treasure #treasure #hyunsuk #jihoon #yoshi #junkyu #jaehyuk #asahi #doyoung #jeongwoo #haruto #junghwan #trsr

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janaem · 14 days

Text

Let Me Rule You

Jareth x f.reader

This is chapter 1 Synopsis: She never imagined that she would once again be drawn into the enchanting world of fictional characters, a place she had not ventured into for many years. However, on a warm summer Saturday night, everything changed as she found herself captivated by the enigmatic goblin king, Jareth, while watching the mesmerizing film "Labyrinth." Word count: 5.4k (20 pages)Warnings for this chapter: swearing and arguments Key: Y/n= your name | L/n= last name | M/n= mom name | d/n= dog name For visual purposes, here is the house you are living in. Author note: It's sure been a while since I wrote something as long as this. I hope you all enjoy this first chapter as much as I did! I don't intend for this to be a slow burn, but I'm sure not rushing to the climax either. Things will definitely start to progress in the chapters to come at a reasonable pace since I'm aiming for this to be only a few chapters. I will also be publishing this on ao3 and wattpad:)

The dusk was calm, and the only movements were the swaying of the trees in the warm midsummer breeze. The dark green leaves of the trees fell sporadically on the fresh pavement street of Evansville. It is a typical upper-middle-class suburb located on the outskirts of the great city, beyond its beautiful lake. During the summer, Evansville is usually bustling with life. Kids can be seen racing on their scooters while their parents watch from the front lawn of their craftsman and single-family-style homes. Teenagers speed down Sherhigh Avenue by the Lakefront with their windows rolled down, blasting music and singing the lyrics. The beaches are always full from morning till nearly midnight.

Nestled close to the tranquil lakefront was Nordstin Street, which exuded an air of a close community feel. From afternoon till night, the neighborhood was painted with playful children and their parents' laughter on their lawns, the jingle of ice cream trucks, and frequent splashes from small backyard pools.

But once dusk faded away, it was different. The winds picked up abruptly around four thirty and leaves started dancing in a choreographed frenzy while flower petals broke free from their delicate confines. The windows of these sturdy homes rattled, adding a discordant note to the chaos. The tides of the lake were more than violent, threatening to engulf anything in their path. The crashing waves against the cluster of boulders are reminiscent of clashing symbols.

In the heart of Nordstin, a grand single-family home exudes warmth and elegance. The gray fiber cement exterior, adorned with white accents, perfectly complements the intricately decorated gray brick roof. The beautiful porch is a work of art, supported by sturdy white stone pillars, making it both practical and stunning.

In the vast living room downstairs, an eighteen-year-old, Y/n, lounged on the cream sectional sofa, surrounded by plush beige pillows of varying textures. With one pillow snug against her torso, she tuned into the news forecast, her gaze fixed on the screen as she observed the latest updates.

The male news reporter's voice filled the room, his words a solemn warning. "The winds are blowing at 26 miles per hour," he announced, his tone carrying a sense of urgency. "It's best to stay home if you don't need to be outside, especially away from water."

Suddenly, a harsh voice from the kitchen shatters the tranquility, disrupting Y/n's peace of mind.

Y/n’s mother, m/n, walked urgently from the kitchen and halted at the entrance of the living room, wearing an unpleasant expression. She holds a meticulously cleaned empty Tupperware container in her left hand.

“Y/n, did you eat the last of the lasagna?” She asked, shaking the container so it was brought to Y/n’s attention.

Y/n looked over at her displeased mother and replied dryly, "Yeah."

Her mother gives her a repulsed look, “Why? What makes you think it’s okay to eat up everything in this house and not leave anything left for anyone?”

Y/n gave her a look of offense, sitting up from her leisure posture, her voice remained level, “Those were the only leftovers I ate. And you told me that I could help myself to whatever I wanted today.”

“That doesn’t mean you eat a whole thing of lasagna, Y/n. You can’t always think about yourself!”

“It wasn’t even half of a container mom, relax.”

“Don’t tell me to relax. I know what was in there.”

“Can you please stop yelling?”

��I’m not yelling! This is how I talk.”

Already feeling fatigued from the ongoing conversation, Y/n released a small, exhausted sigh, grabbed the remote, and switched from the news channel in search of something else to ease her mind.

However, the fuming woman continued, “You could’ve called me asking if you could save me some because that is a lot for one person.”

“It wasn’t.” Y/n had completely given up.

“Okay, Y/n,” m/n scoffed, walking back into the kitchen, “This is ridiculous, you think about nobody else but yourself. Your dad and I are already paying for your college, and the least you can do is not act selfish all the time!”

Y/n turned up the volume of the television, finally finding a show that piqued her interest. Unfortunately, she could still hear the immature mutters of her mother’s complaints.

“It’s all about Y/n, Y/n, Y/n…never thinking about anyone else…that’s sad…this is ridiculous!...eat something healthy…never seen anything like it…eighteen years old…”

“So fucking extra,” Y/n huffed, turning down the volume of the television. She throws the pillow from where it landed with the other pile of pillows on the couch and walks up to her room, considering watching a movie there instead. Maybe she’ll Facetime her friend to vent about how unbearable her mom was acting again.

It wasn't uncommon for Y/n and her mother to engage in disputes, which seemed to arise almost daily, creating an atmosphere of constant tension. By now, Y/n was used to it, maintaining a more composed demeanor. However, there are times when she'll mirror or even exceed her mother's outbursts. Their relationship wasn't entirely negative, but it was far from fulfilling. As for her father, Y/n's connection with him was characterized by neutrality with a more manageable dynamic. He was currently on a trip with her uncle and a few friends at Turks & Caicos and won’t be back for another five days.

Y/n walked into her room, paying no attention to the insistent buzzing of her phone on her eider white desk. She sank into her plush queen-sized bed, surrounded by a sea of pillows and stuffed animals, and disappeared under the soft covers, letting out a long sigh of satisfaction.

She didn't want to get too hot under the covers in her oversized hoodie, so she shifted to a more upright position, reached under a nearby pillow, retrieved the remote, and switched on the television. The clock on the top right-hand corner of the starting page displayed 9:45 pm. She then clicked on one of the streaming apps and started browsing through the movies, uncertain of her current mood.

Y/n, with a deep appreciation for classic films, gravitated towards the 80s-90s subcategory. The screen was filled with a vibrant array of movie covers competing for her attention. As she scrolled through the seemingly endless list of movies, Y/n's eyes eagerly scanned the colorful and nostalgic offerings.

She scrolled through rows and rows of movies of all kinds, eventually getting bored and heading over to the sidebar for a better selection. There, subcategories of the 80s and 90s movies appeared: Action, Romance, Documentary, thriller…

Fantasy.

It has been a while since Y/n watched any fantasy-related films, especially older ones with effects that she found to be somewhat uncoordinated and eerie. However, curiosity got the best of her, so she clicked on it, and a series of other subcategories dropped down: Animation, Fairy Tale, Steampunk, Vampires...

Cult films.

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows at the name, “Cult?” she whispered as if she was sounding it out for the first time.

As she clicked on the remote, a rush of warmth and excitement filled her chest. Her eyes eagerly scanned the screen, searching for a familiar movie. Despite having watched The Neverending Story countless times, she scrolled past it along with other movies like The Dark Crystal, Short Circuit, Big Trouble in Little China, and The Goonies.

Yet, an inexplicable urge drove her to keep searching. After a few more minutes, she suddenly paused, as if an unseen force prevented her thumb from clicking the arrow button, and her gaze settled on a movie she had never come across before.

Jim Henson’s Labyrinth.

Y/n felt an overwhelming and unexplainable sensation coursing through her body as she gazed at the movie cover and its title. It seemed to evoke a powerful wave of nostalgia, captivating her as she fixed her eyes on the glowing screen.

She clicked on the movie, reading its summary.

“Sixteen-year-old Sarah is given thirteen hours to solve a labyrinth and rescue her baby brother Toby when her wish for him to be taken away is granted by the Goblin King Jareth.”

“Poor girl,” Y/n commented as she pressed play, where the credits roll while a white barn owl flies around. Her dog, D/n, shoved the door open with their nose and climbed into bed with her, lying at her legs.

Y/n was captivated by the film's cinematic elements and grainy aesthetic. In particular, she found the character Sarah Williams, to be incredibly gorgeous. Despite her beauty and gentle appearance, Y/n observed that Sarah's behavior didn't align, from her furious stomping into the house to her tendency to catastrophize minor inconveniences.

Y/n grimaced at the first appearance of the goblins, all jumbled up as they awoke from their slumber. Their raspy and grating voices matched their grotesque appearances. When they emerged in the bedroom after Sarah's brother went missing, they appeared in various parts of the room--- under the bedsheets, inside closets, behind the door. Sarah looked around frantically, unable to catch a break. Then, suddenly, the same white barn owl from the movie's beginning barges into the room through the balcony doors and lunges at Sarah. Startled, Sarah shields her eyes, and then a human shadow emerges at Sarah's feet.

The once barn owl had been mystically transformed into a human being. Y/n took in his lithe stature, which stood in a way that excluded flamboyance and regal confidence. His long, dark, and dramatic coat, adorned with intricate designs and embellishments, billowed in the wind as he made his captivating presence known on screen.

"You're him, aren't you? You're the Goblin King."

The Goblin King tilts his head, offering Sarah a proud smirk. Y/n couldn't help but notice his untamed, tousled blond locks that framed his face, enhancing his unconventional and otherworldly allure.

"Sarah…go back to your room. Play with your toys and your costumes. Forget about the baby."

His voice flowed like honey, smooth and melodious. Y/n had heard that voice before, possessed by others, yet the Goblin King made it uniquely captivating with its rich, velvety timbre.

"I've brought you a gift."

"It's a crystal, nothing more."

The Goblin King outstretched his gloved hand, and a translucent ball appeared out of thin air. Y/n's eyebrows raised in awe as he effortlessly juggled it about his hands in a way she'd never seen before. It rolled from one hand to another, from his fingertips to the palm of his hand.

"But if you turn it this way and look into it, it'll show you your dreams."

As the film played, Y/n was entirely captivated by the intricate and fantastical journey unfolding before her. She couldn't help but admire Sarah's courageous interactions with the strange and repulsive creatures, except the adorable worm at the beginning. Fairies, goblins, and monsters filled the screen, leaving Y/n in awe of the film's grungy artistry. She started taking a liking to Hoggle, although he is a coward, he truly cared for Sarah and her wellbeing, which is the type of friend that anyone could need in such desperate times. However, above all the characters Y/n found remarkable, the enigmatic Goblin King, Jareth, captured her attention every time he appeared.

The ballroom scene, in particular, mesmerized Y/n, watching as Jareth's intense yet affectionate gaze lingered on Sarah in a way that set Y/n's nerves ablaze, leaving her breathless. Amidst the dancing figures and smooth song, Y/n couldn't help but imagine herself in Sarah's place, enveloped in the lingering sensation of Jareth's possessive regard.

As she watched, a soft sigh escaped her parted lips, tinged with wistfulness. She pondered what it would be like to be looked upon with such desire in a crowded room, to be longed by someone you secretly desired, as you sought them out in the hopes of meeting their eyes again. She briefly fantasized about being in Sarah's place, feeling the electricity of Jareth's presence, drawing her closer every second.

Y/n's growing desires and anticipation danced amongst the sea of masked faces and whispered secrets. What would it feel like to be carefully handled the way Jareth did Sarah at that moment as she nearly lost herself in his eyes? She wondered this throughout the rest of the film, as the last scene with Jareth played on screen.

“Just fear me. Love me. Do as I say, and I will be your slave.”

A sickening sweet feeling aroused in the very heart of Y/n’s chest, causing her breath to abruptly become shallow as if it were her first time trying to breathe. Eyebrows furrowed and lips parted, she took in the lithe being presented on screen in front of her. Everything in her room surrounding her began to fall and fade away—all she could see was him.

“Yes,” she subconsciously whispered, “say yes.”

“You have no power over me.” Sarah’s voice rang triumphantly, as the goblin king gave in, taking the form in his owl self once again.

As the film came to a close and the end credits started rolling, Y/n sank further into her pillows and covers.

“I feel like there should’ve been more to the film,” she said to herself, “something’s missing. I’m not satisfied.”

D/n stirred in their sleep, not paying mind to a work y/n just said. The girl sighed, seizing the remote once more to watch something different.

That was until the door flew open and her moments of peace were shattered once again by the sharpness of m/n’s tone.

“Why didn’t you help me with dinner,” she questioned, “let alone, make dinner?”

“It’s too late for dinner,” Y/n replied, “plus I’m not hungry.”

“So, you disregard everyone else in the house after you ate two servings of lasagna?”

“I guess so.” Y/n deadpanned, refusing to fuel the fire with the rebuttal about the lasagna being enough for one person.

“Unbelievable,” M/n huffed, putting her hands on her hips and looking around the room, “your room’s a mess.”

“Okay.” Y/n replied dismissively.

“No, I’m being serious, Y/n. You’re going to have a roommate in college and I sure hope you two get along through all this mess.” Her mother turned on the lights abruptly, waking up d/n and irritating Y/n.

“Mom, what the heck,” Y/n fumed, getting out of her bed, and rushing to the wall to turn off the lights, the room went dark once again, “It’s eleven o’clock!”

“I expect you to get up tomorrow and clean this room,” m/n declared, walking to the food frame, “I’m going to bed, and I want you to think about ways you can use your time more productively.”

Before y/n could fire back, M/n was already gone, shutting the lights of her room off.

The eighteen-year-old girl couldn't catch a break even before bedtime. M/n, while not overly strict, had this unspoken rule that Y/n should just think like her. It led to endless clashes between them, leaving Y/n feeling weighed down.

Talking to friends helped a bit, but the constant disagreements with M/n still felt like a heavy burden on Y/n's chest. Trying to find common ground with someone who seemed to see the world differently was tough, and Y/n knew there was little to do about it.

"It'll all be over in a few months," Y/n told herself while she returned to her bed, submerging into the covers once more, turning off the television, and falling into a deep sleep, searching for peace of mind.

It was well into the morning when Y/n woke up to the sound of a mourning dove, the clock just nearing 10:45 am. She knew her mother was already awake, perhaps reading a book and having breakfast in her room. She planned to say good morning to her later.

D/n, who was once at the foot of her bed, was now propped up, wagging their tail in excitement to see Y/n, who smiled as she melted into the dog’s soft and loving gaze as she ruffled their fur.

Y/n decided that this morning she would clean up her room and place all the unnecessary things in a giveaway bag. She immediately went downstairs, grabbed a garbage bag and a glass of water, and rushed back upstairs to get to work in her considerably well-kept room.

She wasn’t doing this because she wanted to; she was doing this so she wouldn’t be greeted by a nagging mother.

D/n remained on the bed, peering over at Y/n curiously as she continued. Y/n opened the cabinet of her desk and began rummaging through items she’d touched in recent months, setting aside everything except for one particular item. Tucked away at the back of the stacks of read novels and old workbooks rested a pristine bin.

She tossed the workbooks aside, intending to dispose of them, and placed the novels on top of her desk next to her computer, calendar, and another smaller stack of books. She then reached for the bin she hadn’t seen in over a few years. It was a simple clear plastic bin with a turquoise lid.

As she eagerly lifted the lid, a rush of nostalgia engulfed her senses. Beneath the lid lay a jumble of crumpled lined papers adorned with intricate drawings, stacked on top of older notebooks, comics, and mangas, which in turn rested upon other well-loved books from her middle school days. It was a veritable treasure trove of memories that Y/n found impossible to resist. Without hesitation, she reached for the first item on top - a character sheet.

Growing up, Y/n's love for storytelling and creativity knew no bounds. She had especially displayed a remarkable talent for crafting complex characters and their elaborate backstories. While progressing in her budding artistic skills, her true passion lay in building and immersing herself in fantastical worlds. She was engrossed in the worlds of anime, mangas, and fiction which surpassed the typical interests of children her age. Her mind was a treasure trove of knowledge, brimming with insights into various fandoms, literary works, and both contemporary and classic fantasy films.

“No way!” she chuckled, flipping through a notebook full of her drawings of characters she’d seen in anime along with anime characters she'd made up. Each page was adorned with meticulous side notes containing non-canon theories, potential romantic head-canons, and intricately woven backstories that she had crafted from her boundless imagination.

As Y/n spent the next twenty minutes soaring down memory lane, she felt a sinking in her chest, leaving her feeling empty and yearning for that same sense of creativity to ignite within her once again.

She continued sifting through the pile of memories until she reached the bottom, where she found a black velvet notebook with plain white pages. Upon picking it up, she discovered that it was empty. Feeling a bit disappointed, she placed all the objects back into the bin, carefully arranging them in the small compartment.

As she did so, she recalled the various stories she had created in the past - witches, vampires, fairies, and superheroes. She especially missed the sense of accomplishment she felt upon completing each small project, as well as the innocent crushes developed on fictional characters from specific scenes and fan fiction.

Y/n missed how she didn't have a care in the world between what was real and what was fake.

She got up and ascended the stairs once more with the garbage bin at hand and placed it at the bottom of the back door. She figured that once her father came back he’d drive it over to the Salvation Army warehouse. She walked into the kitchen welcomed by the blaring sound of the blender her mom was using to make a smoothie.

M/n stopped the blender and poured some of the smoothie into a glass cup, handing it to Y/n with a “Good morning sweetie.”

“Good morning, Mom,” Y/n replied, taking a small sip of the berry enriched smoothie, “how did you sleep?”

“Oh, I slept fine,” M/n replied, unplugging the blender and setting it aside on the kitchen’s white valley granite countertop, “the bed feels empty without your dad in it.”

“I’m sure.” Y/n agreed leaning against the counter and taking another sip.

“Did you sleep alright?” M/n asked.

Y/n nodded.

“Good,” M/n noted, about to sip her smoothie once more; she then stopped, “Where’s D/n?”

“Upstairs,” Y/n replied.

“You should always take your dog out for a walk in the morning.” M/n inputted, setting her smoothie down.

“I know, but she was asleep and I was cleaning my room and disposing of things I didn’t need.”

“So, you were up this entire time and didn’t bother to walk your dog or make us any breakfast?”

Y/n studied her mother’s furrowed expression, not sure of what to say.

“Your room would have waited, Y/n. You need to start—”

“Mom, I don’t wanna hear it, it’s too early.” Y/n interrupted, feeling her boiling blood course through her veins.

M/n disregarded her daughter's advances, “It’s nearly noon, Y/n and we’ve barely eaten. I need you to start thinking and be able to multitask and take the initiative. What you’re doing right now won’t get you far in your career.”

Y/n had heard M/n repeat this thousands of times, using as many things to say back in previous times, Y/n was now worn out.

“Whatever.” She uttered making her way to the kitchen’s exit.

“Excuse me?” M/n’s tone was sharper now.

“Nothing, Mom.”

“Y/n, I tell you these things so you can become more mature. The behavior has gotten too far. You’re eighteen years old and it’s ridiculous the way you act at such a grown age. I constantly have to repeat myself—”

“Then don’t,” Y/n argued.

“Then give me a reason not to,” M/n fired back, “I’ve never seen your age treat her mother the way you do and act selfishly and dismissively.”

Y/n sighed, “This is so unnecessary. All of this over breakfast.”

“You belittle everything, Y/n. Grow up.”

“You can relax now.”

“Grow up.”

“Telling me to grow up won’t do anything.”

“What I’m saying, sweetie is that you–”

“Okay, mom. I get it. I’ll do better.” Y/n surrendered, not wanting to ignite the flame any further. She was already getting a sickening feeling in her stomach.

She exited the kitchen and rushed up the stairs and back into her room, shutting the door behind her. She set her smoothie down on her desk and paced her room feeling a lump forming in her throat.

“It’s like she always has to start a problem no matter what I do!” She hiccuped feeling her eyes sting with tears.

“Can’t she just let me live for once, God, for fucking once!”

Tears streamed down her face, hanging at her chin, she looked outside at the clear blue sky with the sun well overhead.

“Y/n! Walk your dog!” Her mother yelled from downstairs.

“Okay!” Y/n’s seething voice cracked, “shut up.” she muttered sniffling.

“Now!”

“Give me a minute!”

More tears started spilling down Y/n’s face. She sobbed and hiccuped quietly, continuing to look out her window, which was only a few feet away. Her heart was aching, and her throat was twisted in a knot of sorrow; her chest heaved with exhaustion. She started to cry harder after she attempted to swallow her tears; she knew M/n was going to notice her tear-stricken face.

Y/n grabbed her phone and trudged over to her bed and plopped down on her back, sighing in defeat. She figured that before she walked D/n she would at least distract herself from the pang of sorrow that knocked at her chest.

She opened her web browser and typed in “labyrinth 1986,” and thousands of search results appeared, including links to websites, articles, videos, and even books and comics.

The girl's eyes widened in disbelief as she clicked on the first image that showed the same book with a striking red cover that Sarah had been carrying at the park.

“No way, there’s an official novelization of the labyrinth,” she gasped as she further searched. To her surprise, there were comics and mangas as well.

The pain Y/n was feeling suddenly subsided, replaced by a sense of wonder and excitement as she eagerly read through the summaries and reviews for each comic, book, and archived piece available.

“Finally back in print and for the first time in hardcover is the novelization of LABYRINTH written by A.C.H. Smith and personally overseen by Jim Henson. This is the first in a series of novels from the Jim Henson Archives.”

“Labyrinth: Coronation is a 12-issue comic book series written by Simon Spurrier and illustrated by Daniel Bayliss, published by Archaia from 2018 to 2019. It is a prequel to the 1986 film Labyrinth that takes place in 18th-century Venice and tells the story of how Jareth became the Goblin King.”

“You’re lying” Y/n muttered, enticed by the various series of books presented before her, she clicked on the official novelization first, seeing that it was available in her local bookstore for $30, seeing that there was only one in stock, she made a reservation to pick it up today on her walk with D/n.

“I have to have it.” She said putting in her online payment, which had been successfully authorized.

Thank you for your purchase! The book you have requested will be available within 20 minutes. You have two days to pick it up.

“Oh, shit I gotta go.” Y/n gasped frantically getting out of her bed. She rushed to her closet and grabbed a pair of gray sweats and a simple scoop navy blue cami top, throwing on white socks. She grabbed her mini purse with her wallet inside and made her way down the stairs, D/n followed.

“I’m going to the library, D/n is coming with me,” Y/n said as she passed the living room where M/n sat on her computer.

“Okay. Take the car of course.” M/n replied in deep concentration on whatever was on screen.

Y/n unlatched the garage door, the sound of its metal creaking filling the air as she stepped inside. She slipped on her comfortable slides and made her way to her car, with D/n following closely behind her. The afternoon sun poured into the garage as she settled into the driver's seat, and D/n took their place in the passenger seat. Y/n rolled down the windows, feeling the warm summer breeze on her skin as she carefully reversed out of the garage and onto the driveway. She made her way down Nordstin Street, making a right onto Seems Street, she marveled at the vibrant activity around her, knowing that the lakefront was only a couple of streets away. It was nearly one o’clock, and the streets were alive with the energy of people going about their day.

It didn't take long before Y/n reached the library. Finding a snug parking spot near the entrance.

She turned to D/n, letting all the windows up, leaving the passenger’s side slightly cracked.

“I’ll be right back, the window will be cracked for you,” she said leaning in and giving her sweet dog a peck on the nose.

She quickly exited the car and walked up to the library and opened the dark wooden doors, where she paid no attention to her surroundings as she marched straight to the front desk, which was occupied by a lady cashier. They greeted each other warmly.

“My name is Y/n L/n and I purchased Jim Henson’s Labyrinth today.” She spoke clearly.

As the lady behind the counter heard Y/n's request, she paused, her fingers dancing across the keyboard as she searched for the book. With a few swift clicks to confirm the order, she leaned down and carefully retrieved the treasure Y/n had sought. The rich, crimson book with the elegant golden title "Labyrinth" embossed on its cover was presented before the younger girl, its allure captivating her gaze.

“You’re all set Miss L/n, have a good day!” She chirped sweetly.

“You too!” Y/n returned as she made her way to the front door, her heart hammering in her chest in anticipation as she made her way back to the car. Luckily, there was a park just across the street from the library.

Y/n opened the car door and let D/n out, the leash making a jingling sound as the dog shook its fur. Y/n shut the door and grabbed hold of the leash, holding the book in another hand and the two made their way to Gillson Park.

Gillson Park was one of the more popular parks in Evansville because it was known for its stunning natural landscapes that are cherished by both locals and visitors alike. Characterized by lush greenery, serene ponds reflecting the sky, and winding walking trails on steep hills. Tall trees provide a cool respite from the summer sun, while colorful blossoms add vibrancy to the surroundings. Many may describe it as a meadow away from the bustling suburban life.

Y/n found a nice bench by an open field, letting D/n’s leash to wander about the grass and flowers. She propped herself so that she was lying across the bench comfortably, her elbow resting on the arms of the bench. She opened the first page and began to embark on her reading journey.

“Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, I have fought my way here to the castle beyond the Goblin City, to take back the child you have stolen.” She read aloud, attempting to capture the determination in Sarah’s voice, she chuckled to herself.

“For my will is as strong as yours, and my kingdom as great…”

An Owl glided over the sky unnoticed as it emerged amongst Gillson Park. A creature of pure elegance in the backdrop of the midday scenery. His plumage, a pristine canvas of a bold white, seems to shimmer with an otherworldly luminescence, catching the last rays of the afternoon sun like a cascade of fire woven into feathers. He settled on a branch of the tree that was hovered over Y/n, as she continued to focus on the compelling words in the book.

His large, dark eyes were fixed on her as she sat with rapt concentration. Her lips were slightly parted and her eyes moved swiftly across the crisp, white pages. Her hands were holding the book motionless on the crimson red cover as if she was hesitant to disturb the stillness of the moment.

The Owl’s trance was interrupted by the barking of D/n, his heart shaped head turned to the direction of the galloping dog making its way to Y/n, who looked up from her book, set it on her lap, and petted D/n softly.

“This is a good book so far, D/n,” she said with a smile, “I appreciate its detail.” she leaned down and ruffled the dog’s fur, smothering her pet with the love and affection they deserved.

Unbeknownst to them, the owl had been silently observing Y/n's every move from the highest branch of the nearby tree. Y/n shut the book and got up from the bench to grab D/n's leash. As Y/n closed the book and rose from the bench, the owl maintained its vigilant watch, its piercing eyes following their every step. Y/n secured D/n's leash, and the two began their stroll back towards the library's parking lot, the owl gracefully gliding from tree to tree, never losing sight of them.

Once both were in the car, the owl perched on the concrete edge of the library's roof, its keen gaze fixed on the departing car as it merged into the occupied street.

Only when the car disappeared from view did the owl spread its feathered wings and take to the sky again, disappearing into the horizon.

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