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blossom-hwa · 3 years

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Brave - CHAN

I honestly still can’t believe I’ve finished this? There was a time I didn’t think I’d get to writing this fully until 2021 lmao?? And now it’s the longest fic in the whispers of nature series I need to go lie down

Dedicated to @wingkkun because screaming to Kai was like 95% of the reason I wrote this so fast <3 I also appreciate your fanart SO MUCH you are the entire reason tbz has such a presence in this fic!!

(reposted for... the second time without gifs AND links if it doesn’t work I'll cry)

Pairing: Chan x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, angst, nature spirit!au

Triggers: mild descriptions of violence (nothing graphic)

Word Count: 12.9k

Through tears, heartbreak, and a bit of love, Chan teaches you how to be brave once again.

SKZ Masterlist | Whispers of Nature

Red is simultaneously a color of love and a color of death. It is the color of passion, the color of a bride’s dress and the roses she carries down the aisle, but also the color of blood seeping slowly out of an open wound.

Right now, watching the wedding, surrounded by pale red flowers and silks and draperies, you feel as though you’re sitting at a funeral.

Your dress isn’t red, of course. No matter how much you wish you could leave the elegant hall and run away forever, you wouldn’t disrespect the bride in such a fashion. Not only is she the crown princess of your kingdom, she is also kind, a gentle, intelligent, bright woman who will be a brilliant queen when she is crowned tomorrow.

No wonder she is the love of your best friend’s life.

Something in you itches to just start screaming, to draw your sword and ruin the festivities. But you have no sword, only a sparkling ivory gown chosen by the kind princess herself. Today, as Jacob said, you are here as a friend. Not as a knight, not as a guard, not as a protector. A friend.

Somehow, that word feels so much worse than a cold “protector” would.

The dress is shimmering white, pale and beautiful, dotted with small crystals that shimmer like clouds and stars. It should make you feel lighter than air, light with happiness for your best friend and the woman he is marrying.

But the soft fabric feels cloying on your skin, heavy and strange and choking. It’s not that you can’t wear a dress – no, you’ve gone undercover many times at balls and galas as an unseen eye to protect Jacob, after he took his place as his father’s heir. It’s the situation.

This gown was made with good intentions. The heaviness in your heart has dragged those good intentions away, replacing them with dread, anger, guilt, and sadness.

At the altar, somewhere simultaneously very close and very far away, Jacob smiles at his bride-to-be, holding her soft hands between his rougher ones, reciting the vows that will bind them for the rest of their lives. You stifle the urge to place your hands over your ears.

Oh, spirits.

He says the word “love,” and you have to fight the visceral flinch that threatens to tear through your body.

His bride’s words are not quite as painful as his. You didn’t know her as well as you knew him (does she know his favorite color is burgundy, a red between scarlet and purple, the color of roses on the darkest night?), so her vows don’t sting as much. But there’s pain just the same – throbbing, subtle, never harsh but ever present.

The neckline of your dress feels too hot against your skin.

With sick dread, you listen to her voice taper away, see the trembling smile on her face as she stares into the face of the nobleman’s son. Jacob stares back with all the stars of the sky in his eyes.

(Did he never notice that you looked at him the same way?)

The priest takes their hands, guides them through the “I dos.” They are a radiant couple, pure red covering pale skin and silky hair.

Your heart, smothered in innocent white cloth, cries.

The priest’s next words ring through your head, rattling around your mind with a force to rival the club that gave you last year’s concussion. “You may kiss the bride,” you hear, muffled as though he is speaking through water.

The red-covered couple leans in close. One of Jacob’s hands cups her cheek almost reverently, while the other gently grasps her fingers. He looks at her like she hung the moon that illuminates the red roses of his night.

You’re a knight. You’re one of the Guard. You’re brave, courageous, able to face down any foe without hesitation, ready to fight to the death for your country and the people that you love.

As their lips touch, you close your eyes.

(You’re a coward.)

. . . . .

Your boots echo loudly on the hard marble floor. As you approach the throne, the large, wooden doors swing shut behind you with a soft thud. You sink to your knees, head bowed.

“Rise,” your queen says, her voice lilting and sweet and perfect in the shining chamber. Her king consort, your best friend (is he still your best friend? You aren’t quite sure), sits by her side.

Respectfully, you stand, careful to hide any vestiges of pain on your face. It’s been several months since the wedding, and you’ve gone back to the Crown’s Guard, assigned to protect the king and queen and train the guards for their duties.

The metal of your armor, though heavier than the ivory dress that still hangs in your closet, feels lighter on your body. It is protection, from swords and words and emotions.

“We received the request for your leave of absence,” the queen says. Her eyes convey the perfect amount of sadness and wisdom. “We would be sorry to see you go.”

Jacob looks at you beseechingly. He wants you to change your mind, to stay as his friend and protector. Your mind tells you that you should stay – after all, you know little of the other kingdoms, of the lands you have decided to travel and explore. Staying in the country you know best is the safest option, for you and for the royal family.

But your heart tells you to go, and on this matter, you will listen. You wouldn’t be able to live here long, watching Jacob and his queen rule happily together for the rest of your days. You wouldn’t be able to stomach seeing their children romp around, watching them dance together at balls, hearing the cries of the common folk singing praises of the royal couple.

“However, though it pains us to see such a trusted member of the Guard gone, it is your life, and we wish for you to live it to the fullest.” The queen smiles gently, holding out a folded letter. “This contains a copy of your signed request, as well as a letter of recommendation to any future employer you may seek.”

She’s kind. So kind. Your throat closes up as you take the letter, and you can barely choke out a “thank you, Your Majesty.”

“And do remember,” Jacob adds, “that you will always have a place in our guard, should you choose to return.”

“I thank you for your kindness, Your Majesties.” You bow low, touching your hand to your head in a gesture of utmost respect. “I, too, am sad to go. However, I do not doubt that I leave you in very capable hands.” A ghost of your usual smirk appears on your lips. “And I am sure, Your Majesty, that the King Consort has enough skill to keep the two of you safe.”

The queen, being the wonderful lovely woman she is, chuckles slightly. “If he was taught by you, I am sure he will.” She smiles. “We wish you the best, Protector of the Crown.”

. . .

Jacob catches up to you later, just as training has finished for the day. As you bid goodbye to the last recruits, he enters through the back door. You recognize his footsteps and put on a smile as you turn around.

“I could’ve been an attacker, you know,” he says, slipping into the easy banter you’ve established over a decade of friendship.

“You think I don’t recognize your footsteps by now?” The smile stays on your face more easily now, not because the pain is any less, but because you’ve had more practice.

A short silence hangs in the air. Sweat from your hair drips onto your leather tunic, while not a speck of dust lies on the rich silk that clothes your best friend. It reminds you of how far apart you are now.

“Is there really no way I can persuade you not to leave?” Jacob finally asks. His mouth is downturned in the slight pout you’ve grown to love, while his eyes hold the hope that made you fall.

Your mind screams yes. Your heart shouts no.

“Not this time, Cobi.” The nickname slips out before you can even think. “I’ve made my decision. It’s time for me to go.”

Jacob sighs. “Could you at least tell me why?”

You could. Speaking words isn’t as hard as other people think it is. It’s just that once you say them, you can never take them back.

Should you tell him?

His eyes are earnest. They’re honest. They want the brutal truth that you’ve grown accustomed to giving him over the years.

But the easiest lies are those that carry a hint of truth.

“I’ve never traveled.” The untruth falls easily from your lips. “Sure, I’ve gone to the countries where we were called to battle, and I was around when you had to go places for business, but I never got to really see anything. I want to explore, see the world before I’m too old.”

He doesn’t completely believe you. You know that for sure. You can see it in the downturned quirk of his lips, the suspicion as he blinks, but he knows better than to question it. He knows you would tell him everything if you could.

(This time, you can’t.)

“And here I was, thinking I could find you someone in court to repay you for all you’ve done for me.” Jacob smiles, completely unaware of how his words are stabbing holes into your heart. “Visit, all right? You’ll always be welcome here.”

You can almost hear your heart shattering, the pieces breaking off bit by bit as they fall to the floor. But you smile. “I’ll try,” you say, because here you won’t lie and say that you will. You won’t give your best friend, the love of your short life, a promise you may not be able to keep. “I’ll try.”

He hugs you, staining his silken shirt with the sweat of your tunic. You hesitate a moment, then fall into the embrace, taking a final comfort in the strength of his arms. It hurts, but it’s a memory. And even though you want to escape, you don’t want to forget Jacob. Ever.

“I’ll see you off when you go,” Jacob says when you break apart. “Tell me when, all right?”

Should you tell him? you wonder. Will him seeing you off do anything but hurt you more?

It won’t. But your pain means little in the face of Jacob’s, not when you’ve already hurt him so much with your desire to leave. You’ve injured him enough. “I will,” you promise.

Later that night, you wonder if you should have told him the true reason you were leaving. You wonder if you should have confessed everything, laid your heart bare and told him how much he truly means to you.

No, you eventually decide. You’re glad you didn’t. Better to not ruin his happiness with his wife or his remaining memories of you.

(Or maybe you were just too scared to tell him.)

. . .

You set out early in the morning, just as the sun is beginning to peek over the horizon. A part of you hoped that Jacob would be too tired to send you off, but you knew he could never do that. He cares for you.

Just not in the way you care for him.

He meets you at the stables, where you’re outfitting your favorite horse for the journey. In his loose tunic and trousers, it almost feels like the two of you are in your teens again, waking early to train for your positions in the Guard.

Those were the good days, you think. There wasn’t a worry in the world besides making it past the next test. Jacob’s father wasn’t dead, and he didn’t have to leave the Guard to take over his household’s duties. Meanwhile, you had no idea of your feelings. There was no heartbreak.

Better times.

Words aren’t necessary, not this morning. Jacob helps you saddle your horse and store your belongings in silence. If he notices you stiffening – just barely, mind you, you’re much better at hiding it now – when his fingers brush against yours, he doesn’t say anything.

When everything is finished, you linger for a moment more. It hits you that you’re really leaving the place and the people you’ve called home for so long with no intention of coming back.

Jacob’s eyes are sad but tinged with hope when he finally speaks. “You’ll always be welcome here, you know that, right?”

Your chest tightens. You know he’s asking, one more time, for you to stay.

Last chance to tell him, you think. Last chance to clear the air.

But you’re still a coward.

“I know,” you reply. “But I have to go, Jacob.”

He doesn’t ask you why, not this time.

You wrap him in a hug, one last hug before you set off forever. A piece of your heart shatters when he puts his arms around you, squeezing your body to his in that secure, soft hold that’s just so him. So caring, so sweet, so Jacob.

It takes all of your effort not to cry.

“Safe travels, Y/N,” he says as you swing yourself onto the horse. His eyes sparkle. You know he’s holding back tears, too.

You give him one last smile, imprinting the memory of his voice saying your name in your mind. “Thank you, Jacob.”

When you ride away, you only look back once. Jacob smiles in the distance, hand raised in farewell. A small tear on his cheek barely glints in the morning sunlight.

You wave back.

. . . . .

Travel is liberating, truly – though you loved being a knight, there’s something so free about not wearing armor all the time, not having everyone recognize you as one of the Crown’s Guard. You don’t have to listen to anyone, you don’t have to watch out for constant danger. You don’t have to worry about anyone, now, but yourself.

There’s a little guilt in this pleasure, as well as some unease. It’s strange not to follow the strict routine you’ve held yourself to for over a decade, and it’s even weirder not to have someone you are charged to protect.

Well, you have to protect yourself, you guess. But that just… doesn’t come as naturally.

You eventually force yourself stop thinking about it. Thoughts like these weigh down your mind and take away from the joys of exploration, you firmly remind yourself. So you content yourself with roaming small towns and villages, meeting the people, picking up new skills with which to make a living.

(You never knew you were so bad at cooking, but at least you get better.)

The spirits treat you kindly for the first few years. The money from your work as a knight keeps you afloat as you learn to make a new living (you avoid using the queen’s letter – that would draw attention, and you don’t want any of that now), and when that runs out, you put your newfound abilities to use wherever people care to pay you for them.

It’s not a rich existence. Nothing is certain in this life, not the way it was when you lived in the palace barracks and your basic needs were always met. Here, you can rely only on yourself for food and water and shelter.

But it’s enough. Everywhere you go, you meet new people – rich and poor, rude and kind – and it only enhances your wonder at the world around you. Truly, you think, you lived in a bubble before. Now, even though you’re poorer, you can see everything your eyes glanced over as a knight.

(And if you sometimes miss Jacob’s warm smile, even if it never spoke of love as deep as yours, it doesn’t matter. You’ve made your decision. You won’t go back.)

It isn’t like you’re losing your fighting skills, either. You still have your sword, something you refuse to part with no matter how little money you have. There’s plenty of danger – bandits, thieves, rich boys who think they own the streets – and as such, plenty of opportunities for you to keep your senses sharp.

It’s after one of these fights that you meet the moon child, Changbin. He appears in the dark alley after you’ve knocked the last man out and takes concern with the bleeding wound on your upper arm.

“I’m fine,” you try to tell him as he firmly guides you away from the alley and towards a dark patch of trees. “I’m fine – hey, please let go of me.”

Hearing the urgency in your voice, he drops your arm. Your hand immediately goes to the sword at your hip. “Where are you taking me?” you snap, eyes flickering toward the trees.

He reddens. “I’m so stupid,” he mutters to himself, rubbing his forehead. “I stay in the woods,” he explains. “If you’ll let me take you there, I can help you clean your wound.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “You stay in the woods?” you repeat, incredulous. “Why –”

A breeze shifts his hair away from his ear, revealing a pure white flower dangling from a slim chain, glowing in the moonlight.

A moon child.

Oh.

In all of your years of traveling, you never thought you would truly meet a spirit.

“My Lord,” you say, dropping hastily to your knees. “I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you earlier.”

“Please, none of that.” The moon child tugs you back up, looking distinctly uncomfortable. “I’m just a moon child, none of the ‘my Lord’ stuff. My name is Changbin.”

Changbin doesn’t turn out to be a bandit masquerading as a moon child, thankfully, so you allow him to clean your wound in his makeshift hut in the middle of the trees. He introduces himself fully as a wanderer. Not a traveler, he clarifies, because travelers roam the world for pleasure. He does it out of necessity.

(The look of desolation in his eyes convinces you not to ask.)

He becomes your companion for months, nearly a year, walking with you from city to city until he decides to part ways in a small village near a forest. By that time, you’re sad to see him go – he’s been a wonderful friend – but like Jacob never asked the reason for your departure, you honor Changbin’s desire for silence.

He does leave you with one piece of advice, “traveler’s wisdom,” he calls it (you punch him in the arm when he says that in this high, haughty voice). “Villagers will tell you that these woods are dangerous,” he says once the two of you have calmed down. “They’ll say it’s haunted by spirits. And there is danger, it’s true, but there is also safety.”

You listen carefully.

“In the heart of the woods, there is a shrine. If ever you find yourself lost or in trouble, go into the forest at the break of dawn and find the shrine. The priestesses will take you in. If you can’t find the shrine by dark, though, leave as fast as you can.” The seriousness in Changbin’s eyes tells you he isn’t joking this time. “The forest isn’t nearly as dangerous during the day as it is during the night.”

So you travel for another year, keeping Changbin’s words in the back of your mind. As you continue, though, money begins to get scarce. These villagers are more suspicious than others you’ve met and aren’t as quick to hire a newcomer, especially one so poor but who bears such a sword (you’ll never sell it, not ever). Their suspicion is understandable, but it doesn’t make anything better for you.

You’re lost, now. You sold your horse and fine clothes a long time ago, leaving you with nothing from your old life but your memories and your sword. You’ve become a wanderer, not a traveler – forced to roam for no reason other than you must.

Several times, you mull over returning to the Guard. Jacob said he would welcome you back, and the thought of a full stomach and a place to sleep almost make up your mind on the worst nights.

But even though you want to see Jacob again, want to remember his warmth and kindness, a green snake twists its way around your heart, sliding up your throat every time you think of going back to him. He’ll never accept you, not truly, the snake hisses. He’ll never love you the way you love him.

And try as you might, you can’t stomach the thought of facing him again, not when you made the choice to leave.

So you remain a coward, a blind, stupid, stubborn coward. Instead of going to a place you know, a place where you would find care and acceptance, you throw your lot into Changbin’s advice.

You decide to find the shrine.

. . .

You’re on your last coins when you finally make it back to the village where you and Changbin parted ways. As dawn breaks, you take a breath, summoning your last strength, and head between the trees.

It’s eerie, a bit, but so beautiful. As the sun rises, the sky turns a beautiful shade of blue that melds with the trees’ greenery. It almost distracts you from the fact that you legitimately have zero idea where you’re going – Changbin only told you the shrine was at the heart of the forest, nothing else. You’ve been marking your path with stones you picked up along the way, but something tells you that won’t help much if you’re being chased by… an evil spirit. Or something.

(It’s embarrassing and slightly scary to say it, but you don’t think you have the strength anymore to outrun such a spirit, much less fight one.)

Luck seems to finally be on your side, though, because after exhaustedly pushing through a crowd of bushes, you come face to face with a beautiful shrine, surrounded by wild gardens and small stone buildings.

Several young men and women – a few barely older than children – look up at the rustling of leaves. For a few moments, they stare at your undoubtedly grimy, gross face. You only stare back.

It feels like an eternity has passed before one of the young women stands and walks up, a gentle smile on her face. “Hello, traveler.”

“Hello,” you manage, voice croaking with disuse. You clear your throat, face hot. “I’m sorry for intruding. I just… I met… I don’t know if you know him, but I met a moon – a man named Changbin –”

“You met Changbin?” Her eyes take on a new intensity and a sliver of joy.

“Um, yes.” You try to smile. “He told me if I was lost and needed a place to stay, I could try to find the shrine.” Looking down at your dirty hands, you bite your lip in shame. “I’m sorry. I can leave if you want, I’ve just… I don’t have a place to stay. I can cook, clean, anything you need help with. And, um…” You hold out the remaining coins in your pocket. “I have these?”

A rough hand closes your fingers over the money. “Keep your coins, traveler.” The woman smiles widely. “Changbin would only tell a true friend about the shrine, and a friend of Changbin’s is always a friend of ours.”

As she leads you into the shrine, the only thing you feel is guilty, overwhelming, crushing relief. Relief that you won’t have to face Jacob once more. Relief that you won’t have to face your heart once more.

The mere thought of your cowardice makes you cringe.

. . .

The shrine, you learn, is a very busy place. You wake up pretty early the next day, unused to the fact that you have an actual futon now and not just the ground, but already the other two girls in the room are getting dressed. Feeling distinctly out of place, you start to follow suit.

“Oh, you don’t need to get up just yet!” One of them smiles. “You’re a guest, traveler. Take some time to rest.”

“No, it’s all right.” You smile back, hoping it isn’t as awkward as it feels. “I’ve never been able to sleep too late, and I don’t feel right intruding on your hospitality without giving something back in return. Is there anything I can help with?”

So you find yourself in the garden after breakfast, sweating under the sun with a boy around your age named Kevin. He’s cheerful. Very fun company. Somehow, he makes the monotonous task of pulling weeds enjoyable, even takes your mind off of how out of place you feel in this quaint shrine.

Walking back into the shrine after spending the day in the garden, you wave off Kevin’s offer to bring you dinner, telling him you’re going to take a shower instead. But because you’re an idiot, you forget the fact that you have no idea where the showers are.

Kevin’s already walking away, and you honestly feel too embarrassed to call after him and ask. So, ignoring the curious stares you’re garnering from the other girls and boys, you start walking in an arbitrary direction.

It’s a mistake. As the sun sets, you feel like you’ve wandered the grounds at least four times, but you can’t even find a semblance of a shower room in the whole shrine. You’re about to give up when the priestess who welcomed you walks out of a nearby building, followed by a young man with curly blond hair.

You really don’t mean to catch his eye. In fact, you’re drawing away, about to walk in the other direction, when he looks up and fixes your gaze with his. His eyes narrow.

You suddenly feel very uncomfortable.

The priestess – what was her name? Priestess Yang? You think that’s it – turns around and sees you there, immediately breaking into a gentle smile. “Oh, hello, Y/N!”

Sheepishly, you wave. “Hello, Priestess.”

“You welcomed the sword-bearer?” the man interrupts.

What?

You’re not even carrying your sword. You left it back in the room, thinking it might be viewed as a threat if you brought it around. And you’ve never seen this man in your life. So how does he know that about you?

The priestess gives him a scolding look. “Chan, the shrine welcomes those who are lost.”

“But a sword-bearer?” he – Chan – argues. “You do remember what kinds of damage they cause?”

Indignation rises in your chest. He doesn’t even know you, and he’s already making assumptions? “Hey –”

“Changbin told her to find us if she was lost,” Priestess Yang cuts in smoothly. “If Changbin can trust this sword-bearer, I’m sure you can find it in yourself to do so too, Chan.”

Chan just looks at you with undisguised suspicion in his eyes. You glare back. How dare he assume such things about your character?

“Were you looking for someone, Y/N?” Priestess Yang asks, pulling you out of your annoyance.

“Well, no.” The sheepish smile finds its way back to your face. “I was, um, looking for the showers.”

“Oh, they’re just over there! I’ll show you the way.” She pats Chan’s shoulder. “I’ll see you, Chan.”

Chan smiles briefly, then disappears into the air, leaving behind the faintest scent of grass and springtime.

The priestess laughs at the shocked look on your face. “Chan is our forest guardian,” she explains, leading you onto a dirt path. “He helps keep us safe.”

Uneasiness crawls up your spine. “Is that how he knew I had a sword?”

“Yes.” She nods. “He sees everything, knows of all those who travel the forest. It’s part of his Sight.”

A ripple of annoyance passes through your mind.

All that sight, and he couldn’t help me once? you grumble internally. Thanks a lot, guardian.

Suffice to say, even though Priestess Yang encourages you to have an open mind, your opinion of Chan isn’t the highest.

. . .

The discomfort of being the “new traveler” at the shrine stays for a week or so. By then, most of the residents are more or less used to your presence (you just ignore Chan whenever he gives you one of his suspicious looks), and you’ve carved out a small niche for yourself, taking care of the shrine children.

There are more than you expected, surprisingly. You would’ve thought the shrine was primarily made up of older teens, if anything, who could find their way here. When you mention this to Kevin, he gets a faraway look in his eye. “The shrine opens its arms to the lost,” he says in reply. “It makes itself easier to find for children, because they often can’t journey here themselves.”

“Abusive families?”

Kevin bites his lip. “Yes.”

This knowledge only makes you want to protect them more.

As much as you enjoy talking with Kevin in the garden, it’s so much easier to work with the shrine children, you find. They’re sweet and kind, if rambunctious, and you make it your duty to keep them occupied and safe while the older kids and priestesses work.

“Y/N, Y/N!” One of the older children, Yuna, comes running up one afternoon. “Priestess Jeon said you could take us into the forest for a walk!”

“Who else?” you ask. “Not just you, right?”

“Chaeryeong, Sunwoo, and Eric want to come too.” She looks at you with wide, pleading eyes. “Please?”

Your eyebrows furrow as you weigh the merits and dangers of a walk. It’s going to get dark in a few hours, so you can’t stay out long, but if one of the head priestesses agreed, it couldn’t be too bad of an idea. The kids aren’t too young, either. They’ll listen if something goes wrong.

“If you get one of the messenger boys to come, we can go,” you eventually decide. If something happens, at least you’ll be able to send someone off to get help quickly. Just in case, though, you strap your sword to your side.

Juyeon meets you with the four kids at the shrine’s entrance. Your heart sinks a little – you hoped Yuna would find Kevin – but Juyeon is pleasant enough. He returns the smile you flash at him, anyway.

The walk is uneventful, for the most part. Eric and Yuna pepper you with questions about your work as a knight while Sunwoo and Chaeryeong listen in rapture. Really, it hurts a little to talk about your life in years past, but for the kids, you’ll do it. The smiles on their faces are worth it.

When you start walking back to the shrine, though, the air changes. It doesn’t ripple right – the wind feels strange, somehow evil. Juyeon clearly feels it too, from the way his eyes are darting around the trees. With an unspoken agreement, you begin herding the kids along faster.

There’s barely a change in the wind when the thing – whatever it is – swoops down. Only the blur of a wing in the side of your vision alerts you and you shout, pushing Eric out of the owl’s range and drawing your sword.

“What the fuck is that?” you snap, brandishing your blade.

Juyeon’s face is white as he gathers the children. “Screech owl!”

“Screech owl?”

Then the thing – screech owl, you guess – dives down again, and there’s no time to talk.

“Juyeon!” you yell. “Get them out of here!”

He doesn’t argue, just herds the children together and races away. Smart boy.

You’ve never fought an opponent in the air before. It isn’t fun. The owl is fast, too fast, almost like a damn mosquito racing through the air as you try to squash it, only a million times bigger and fiercer.

Your sword slashes through the air as you duck and twist and hide behind trees, feathers fluttering to the grass all around you. Awful shrieks ring through the air and you honestly can’t tell if it’s you or the bird – all of your senses are jumbled up.

Adrenaline courses through your veins even as the sun sets further, washing the forest in pale evening light. The bird seems to take delight in the onset of night – it swoops faster, hoots louder, and is in general just a much bigger asshole than before (if that was possible).

“ARGH!” A claw slices the top of your shoulder. If I had my armor…

But you don’t, so you duck behind another tree. Think, Y/N, think, you tell yourself as you heave deep breaths. Wait, no, don’t think. Thinking gets you killed.

Just listen.

The air is still. You don’t move a muscle.

Then –

The faintest brush of wind on your left.

Your sword cuts through meat and bone, and the owl falls, dead, at your feet.

For a moment, you just stand there, gasping, staring at the blood dripping off your blade and pooling from the owl’s body.

Gross.

“Thank you.”

For not the first time that afternoon, you let out a deathly screech and leap away. Clapping a hand over your heart, you glare at the newcomer.

“… Chan?”

“That’s my name.” The forest guardian raises an eyebrow, looking faintly amused. “Thank you for killing the owl.”

You just look at him, eyebrows fully wrinkled in annoyance and confusion. “If you wanted the owl dead, why didn’t you kill it yourself? You’re the forest guardian, surely you have the power to do that much.”

“I can’t kill things just because I want to,” Chan replies. It should sound antagonistic, you think, but the look in his eyes is softer than he’s ever looked at you. Appreciative, maybe? “It would upset the forest’s balance if its guardian killed one of those who live in its domain. I can only defend the forest against those that mean it deadly harm, not those that are merely dangerous.”

Wiping your sword on the edge of your tunic, you mull that over. “But if the screech owl was too dangerous, wouldn’t that upset the balance of the forest in the end anyway?”

“We weren’t at that point yet.” Chan raises a shoulder in a half shrug. “But you killed it, so we’ll never know if that would’ve happened.”

“You make that sound like it’s a bad thing.”

He laughs. It’s a surprisingly cheerful sound – you thought it might sound like, you don’t know, someone croaking (look, you never had the greatest opinion of Chan until this point, and that’s still in the air). “I don’t think it is,” he finally says. “And I’m sorry. I was wrong about you being like all of the other sword-bearers who came to this forest. You clearly care for the shrine children.”

An apology. That’s something. Grudgingly, you force yourself to see Chan in a better light. “Apology accepted.”

For a few seconds, you just stand there, feeling the air turn more awkward by the second. “Um –”

“Do you need the way back?” Chan interrupts, a knowing glint in his eye.

By all the spirits, why did you have to meet him when you were lost at the shrine? Now he thinks you’re bad with directions, which you swear you’re really not, you just hadn’t been at the shrine long enough to figure it out.

Embarrassment creeps up your skin as Chan’s smirk grows. “… Yes.”

(And, okay, the forest guardian is a little infuriating and you find yourself wanting to hit him several times on the way back. But really, he isn’t that bad. Though you’d rather die than let him know you think that of him.)

. . .

Chan comes back the next day. You don’t expect him there, especially because he never visits the shrine more than one day in a row, but he surprises you with a smile and the offer of a walk.

“This isn’t your plan for killing a sword-bearer without anyone finding out, is it?” you ask, raising a nonplussed eyebrow as you follow the guardian out of the shrine. You’re not sure why, but it’s so easy to fall into banter with Chan the way you used to joke around with the other knights in the Guard.

Chan snorts. “As a centuries-old guardian of the forest, wouldn’t you think I’d have a little more wisdom than to kill you after several people at the shrine witnessed you leaving with me?”

You very visibly keep a hand on your sword just in case.

“So why did you invite me on a walk?” you ask after several moments. Chan’s bare feet are silent against the grass, but your boots make slightly louder thumps as you step over stones and fallen branches. “I know it wasn’t because of my scintillating personality.”

He stops walking. “I’ve heard you used to be a knight,” he says bluntly. “I wanted to know what kind of sword-bearer you were to leave such a prestigious position and even befriend Changbin, of all people.”

“What’s wrong with befriending Changbin?” you ask, desperately dodging the first part of Chan’s implied questions. “You make it sound like he hates… sword-bearers. He literally dragged me away after I beat up a bunch of men in an alley with my sword so he could clean the one wound I got on my shoulder.”

“Ah. That explains it.” Chan nods. “He saw you do good things with your blade.”

“… Yes?”

“Sword-bearers killed the girl he loved,” Chan explains. “Well, archers, really, but swords were involved.”

You swallow. That explains his wandering tendencies. “Oh. Who sent them?”

“The king of Adment.”

The title brings a scowl to your face. “Oh, him.” You spit. “That would explain it.”

Chan looks at you curiously. “You hold a grudge towards him as well?”

“He was never the friendliest to my kingdom,” is your brief reply before diverting the topic again. “So, is that also the reason you hate sword-bearers in your forest?”

“Whenever sword-bearers trespass, they almost always bring destruction.” Chan’s face turns hard. “I’ve learned not to take chances.”

The ages-old anger in his eyes speaks of a wisdom far older than the youthful form Chan takes. You narrow your eyes. “How old are you, exactly? You said centuries, but how many?”

He smirks, though there’s something weary in his gaze. “I’ve been alive for over a millennium.”

“What?”

“I can tell you more about that another day,” he says, teasing. You want to complain that he can’t leave you on a cliffhanger like that, but the sun is beginning to set, and you have things to do at the shrine. “Do you need an escort?”

You resist the urge to punch him, forest guardian or no. “I’m not that bad with directions,” you grouse. “You just caught me on a bad day. I can find my way back.”

He walks you back to the shrine anyway. And day by day, after every conversation you have, he walks you back as well.

Kevin, when you meet him in the garden, remarks that you seem more cheerful after a few weeks. “You look like you’re anticipating something exciting,” he clarifies when you only dignify him with a confused glance. His lips curl into a smirk. “Something about Chan?”

Kevin probably expects you to hit him or roll your eyes, maybe say something snappy in response. Instead, your face only drops as the meaning of his words hits you.

Do you feel something for Chan?

Well, you love to hear about his life. There are some really exciting stories he’s had after living so long. He’s also pleasant to hang around, and you enjoy talking to him.

It’s just curiosity, nothing romantic, you tell yourself. There’s no attraction. Just a slight friendship, maybe. Nothing more.

Nothing like what you felt for Jacob.

“Y/N – hey, Y/N!”

You blink to see Kevin staring at you in concern. “Are you all right? You zoned out for a minute.”

No, definitely nothing like Jacob. You try to smile at Kevin, pushing thoughts of blond hair and kind eyes out of your mind. That’s stupid – you would never let yourself be swayed so badly again. “I’m fine,” you say, hoping you’re telling the truth. “Let’s go get dinner, yeah?”

. . .

As the weeks pass, you begin to wonder just how much was truthful in what Kevin said.

Walks with Chan have become a regular occurrence, now. When he shows up at the shrine entrance every other afternoon, someone immediately calls for you.

And the worst thing is, you feel excited when you hear your name being called, when you’re with the children or scrubbing dishes or working in the garden. Everyone around gives you a knowing glance and maybe a teasing smile as you rush to see the forest guardian.

One part of you wants it. You want to be able to freely enjoy these walks, feeling the soft earth beneath your boots as you listen to Chan speak. The forest itself is interesting – he shows you the overgrown faerie ring, the water nymph’s pond and the accompanying willow tree – but you think his stories are even more intriguing. You like hearing Chan’s voice. You think you’d like to keep hearing it.

The other part of you doesn’t want this, though, doesn’t want the budding warmth that you feel with the forest guardian, even as the months begin to grow colder. It’s not that it doesn’t feel nice – in fact, this is precisely because it does feel nice. Too nice. You’re starting to feel a stirring in your heart that reminds you of how you felt for Jacob. Though it’s small, very small, it’s there – you can recognize it from the years of heartache you spent watching Jacob fall in love with someone else.

You don’t want that again with Chan.

It shames you to want to run away again, to run away from a place that has provided you with so much comfort in the months past. You love the children, truly, and the friends you’ve made are wonderful. You’ve even started giving Juyeon lessons with your sword. But what other course of action is there? There’s no reason a forest guardian with so many centuries of wisdom would fall for a young, naïve human like you. Here, a love story is even more impossible than one with Jacob.

The decision curdles in your stomach, fills your throat with bitter, hot shame, but it’s necessary, you tell yourself. Better to cut everything off right now, before your emotions grow out of control.

You’re not that important to the shrine, really. You’ve only been there a few months. They’ll survive without you.

You just can’t go through the pain you felt with Jacob ever again.

. . .

You debate avoiding Chan. If he were human, you might actually have chosen that path. But just like you couldn’t avoid Jacob when you fell in love – you were too close, he definitely would’ve noticed – you can’t avoid Chan. He’s the forest’s guardian – he’ll know you’re purposely trying not to be found.

So you decide to cut things off on one of your walks. It feels so simple in your mind – get away from the shrine, then tell him you’re leaving. He won’t care, you tell yourself. It won’t matter to him. And as much as the thought hurts, it’s the better option.

It should be easy, really. Chan gives you the perfect opening – “Why do you look so sad today?” he asks, stopping you by Hyunjin’s pond. The nymph himself doesn’t appear, which you’re very thankful for.

Well, no time like the present. You steel yourself. “I’m going to leave the shrine.”

Chan’s face switches expressions several times within seconds. You watch, feeling a sick sense of dread and relief pooling in your stomach. It’s out there. You’ve said it.

But spirits, why does he look so upset? So angry?

Like you mean something to him?

“Why?” he finally asks.

“Well,” you stammer, his unprecedented reaction sending all of the rehearsed words flying out of your mind, “I – I’ve overstayed my welcome, haven’t I? I’ve been here for months already, and I’ve used the shrine’s hospitality long enough.” His incredulous expression sparks indignation in your chest. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Do you realize how much you do for the shrine?” he snaps. His footsteps, usually so silent, pound on the earth as he steps up to you. “You think you’ve overstayed your welcome – do you know how much I – how much the shrine needs you now?”

How much I?

How much I need you?

How much Chan needs me?

Slip of the tongue. You shake your head, trying your best to ignore it. “All I do is help with the children, work with Kevin in the garden! Chan, I’m easily replaceable – I’m just a poor traveler who was fortunate enough to find the shrine! I’m lucky that you’ve all been so welcoming, but really, it’s time for me to move on.”

“And what about the children? Your friends?” He crosses his arms. “What about me?”

“They’ll live!” you snap. “And what do you mean, what about you?”

Chan growls under his breath. “Are you really trying to say that I mean nothing to you?”

His words hit you like a punch in the gut, like that time Jacob accidentally rammed you in the stomach with the pommel of a sword.

So… not a slip of the tongue.

“Why does it matter that you mean something to me when I don’t mean anything to you?” you finally say.

“And here I thought you were smart,” Chan snaps.

Anger flares in your chest. “I’m serious, Chan! Why would I ever think I meant something to you?” You gesture wildly at the expanse of trees surrounding you. “You’re a millennia-old guardian of a forest of magic. I’m a human who ended up here out of luck. Why, even if I ever felt anything for you, would you feel anything for me? What have I done to merit your attention?”

Chan’s eyes soften slightly. “So many things.”

Taken aback, you flail for words. “Elaborate.”

“You’re a sword-bearer. A kind sword-bearer. A sword-bearer Changbin trusts, enough to divulge his name and travel with for almost a year. A sword-bearer he believed was pure enough of heart to find the shrine – and don’t stop me there, if he hadn’t thought you would be able to find it, he wouldn’t have told you of its existence.” Chan stares at you with that same soft look, that soft look that pierces your heart and makes you feel guilty, so guilty, because you’re not as good, not as kind, not as pure as he thinks you are. “You carved your place in the shrine the first day you spent there. Without anyone asking, you took care of the children and helped Kevin in the garden. You did everything you could to give the children a bit of the love they never might’ve experienced otherwise and protected them from a threat you knew nothing of, something that could have torn you to pieces if you weren’t as trained as you were. You –”

“Stop.”

Chan looks at you, confused. “What –”

“I’m not – I’m not even near the brave person you’re describing,” you snap, tears starting to well in your eyes. “Stop talking about me like I’m some – some spirits-damned martyr, or something –”

“But –”

“And even if I was this, this noble and amazing person you think I am,” you interrupt, tears fighting to slip past your eyes, “how many other men and women at the shrine are the same? Kind, gentle, whatever you want to use to describe me? I’m not special, Chan. I’ve never been.”

Jacob didn’t think you were, at least.

“Y/N, why – just – did you not hear anything I just said about you?” Chan tries to take your hand, but you shy away, pretending the hurt in his eyes doesn’t send knives into your chest. “You earned the trust of a moon child haunted by those who carry blades in a matter of months. Those at the shrine took years to gain his full acceptance. You proved me wrong about sword-bearers. You showed me you were fearless, brave, kind – you are special, Y/N,” he insists, forcing you to meet his eyes. “You’ve shown me that, shown me so much –”

“Stop.”

Your chest is heaving, the tears have spilled out, and you’re fighting for breath. It hurts, it hurts so much that Chan thinks this much of you, but all you are is a coward running away your feelings. “You don’t know,” you gasp, “you don’t know what kind of a person I am. I’m not what you see. How can you –” you angrily brush a tear away – “how can you not see that?”

“Then tell me,” Chan says. “Tell me why you’re so different. Convince me.”

You don’t want to. You don’t want to convince him, you want him to always have that beautiful image of you in his mind – a brave, gentle knight dedicated to protecting those who cannot defend themselves. But he deserves the truth.

And the truth is that you are a coward.

“I left my kingdom because I was in love with my best friend,” you spit. “He married the queen, and I couldn’t do anything but watch. I left because I couldn’t stand to see them so happy together, knowing I would only be on the sidelines of their love for the rest of my life. I left because I couldn’t bring myself to tell him how I felt, couldn’t bring myself to clear the air. I left because I wanted to run away instead of facing my problems, Chan! And even when I knew Jacob would always welcome me back with open arms, even during my darkest moments, I still chose to run away! I chose to find the shrine instead of letting my feelings go and reconciling with my friend. I chose to find the shrine and run away a second time because I couldn’t stand to face him again when I was the one who chose to leave.” A choked sob escapes your lips. “And now I’m running away again, because I thought you could never care for me in the way I’m beginning to care for you. Only you apparently do, but I can’t just stay here and let you love this perfect, noble character who doesn’t exist.”

Silence fills the air. Surely the birds are chirping, the leaves rustling, but you can’t hear anything over the pathetic sounds of you trying to control your tears.

“So now you know,” you croak. “You know the truth behind the coward this knight really is.”

You can’t even meet Chan’s eyes.

“You’re right,” Chan finally says. “For a knight, you’re an awful coward.”

His words stab you in the chest.

“Courage doesn’t constitute running away.”

You can feel the blood dripping out of your heart.

“It means facing your challenges head on, doing what you must.”

You clench your teeth, resolutely looking down at your feet. It’s the truth, you tell yourself. It doesn’t matter if it hurts. It’s the truth.

Then Chan’s trousers enter your vision. You stiffen, ready to back away, but Chan’s already tilting your chin up with one gentle finger so that you’re staring into his eyes. “But you’re brave, Y/N,” he murmurs. “You’re brave when it comes to protecting others, defending the innocent from those who would bring harm.” A small smile curves his lips. “You’re just not too good at protecting yourself.”

You burst into tears. And this time, when Chan presses you into his chest, letting you inhale his woodsy smell of fresh grass and sunlight, you don’t pull away.

. . .

“You don’t have to run away from attachment,” Chan tells you on the walk back to the shrine. “You don’t have to run away from familiarity, from caring about people. We care about you, truly. The children would be heartbroken if you left. So would Kevin and Juyeon and everyone else.” He gives you a gentle smile. “I would be, too.”

Keeping his words in mind, you put away your thoughts of leaving the shrine and try to open your eyes to how much people actually enjoy your presence. Some days, when the self-loathing rises and you don’t want to do anything but run away, it’s hard.

But Chan always finds you, if not the same day, then the day after. He takes you into the woods and tells stories until your sides ache from laughter and the sparkle – or so he tells you – is back in your eyes. With his slow, careful help, you begin to see the small, but visible effects you have on the shrine.

Eric’s and Chaeryeong’s eyes light up when you walk into the room. Sunwoo and Yuna fight for your attention. Juyeon’s calm face breaks into a smile when you show up for his daily swordplay practice, and Kevin laughs with abandon when you crack jokes in the garden. They’re small things, but you realize that leaving the shrine would’ve caused a lot more damage – to you and to them – that you didn’t realize before.

So you cement your place in the shrine, throwing yourself into the daily life of the place you’ve tentatively begun to think of as something deeper than a mere shelter. Juyeon’s interest in swordplay gives you the idea to begin training some of the girls and boys in defense. The priestesses agree after a little convincing – after all, you argue, even if the shrine isn’t threatened very often, dangers like the screech owl crop up every now and then. And if anyone decides to leave the shrine in the future and make their own life, defense could be a very useful skill.

Chan embraces your idea with more warmth than you’d imagine, given his aversion to sword-bearers. When you ask him about it, he just gives you that teasing smile that infuriates and calms you. “I trust you, don’t I?” His smile turns gentler. “You’re a good, brave sword-bearer. I think you’ll be able to keep your pupils from going… astray.”

You certainly do your best. Over several years of training, you watch Juyeon, Kevin, Yeji, and Lia grow into formidable opponents. Sunwoo takes more of an interest in archery after you fashion him a crude bow and arrow, practicing with the (kind of terrible) weapons until you buy him proper set in town.

Life goes on, and it goes well. Shrine life is peaceful as new residents enter – the newest resident, Haknyeon, is adorable – and you grow into yourself as the months go by. Chan never presses his feelings, only treats you the same way he always did until you’re ready to accept his care.

“Are you sure?” he asks when you tell him, eyes sparkling with hope and love and uncertainty all at once.

Your heart blossoms with love for the forest guardian. “Yes.” You smile. “I think I love myself enough to allow you to love me too.”

His lips taste like spring, like golden sunlight filtered through verdant leaves. Pressed against his chest, you feel safe, delicate in the touch of his fingers splayed gently across your back, strong in the warmth of his arms around your waist.

Oh, Chan makes you feel loved, loved in a way that slowly erases the self-loathing you’ve carried for so long, in a way that makes you feel brave enough to remain standing with each passing day. And even though you’ve still got a long way to go, you take comfort in the knowledge that Chan, your forest guardian, will always be there for you.

. . . . .

News doesn’t come often to the small village just outside the forest, so when there’s gossip that doesn’t pertain to the whereabouts about one villager or another, it’s worth listening to. This time, it’s a kingdom at war with another.

“Which kingdoms?” you ask idly, examining an apple.

“One is Adment,” the shopkeeper replies. You snort, a sentiment he laughs with. “Which was the other, honey?” he yells to his wife in the back of the stall.

“Was it Callia?” she yells back.

You don’t laugh when the apple drops from your hand.

Trying not to visibly show your distress, you wave off the shopkeeper’s worry at your expression and hurry to finish the shopping. To your luck, when you make it back to the shrine, Chan is already there, conversing with one of the priestesses.

“Y/N!” His smile drops slightly when he takes in your expression. The priestess quietly excuses herself. “Did something happen?”

“Callia – Callia is at war with Adment.” You swallow hard, trying to steady your voice. “Jacob’s kingdom. At war with the one that killed Changbin’s love.”

Chan’s face turns hard. “I see.”

“I – I feel like I need to do something.” You gaze at him, begging him to understand everything you can’t put into words. “Chan, I feel like I have to go back and help, somehow.”

Chan’s eyes are gentle but unreadable as he grasps your hand firmly in his. “You should do what you think is right,” he says quietly.

What I think is right.

What do I think is right?

Your mind races with panic, but one thought emerges, crystal clear in certainty.

“Yes,” you whisper, more to yourself than Chan. “I’ll do what is right.”

. . .

The priestesses give you their blessing to return to the kingdom you used to call home. Juyeon, Kevin, Lia, and Sunwoo volunteer to come with you as well, even though you try to dissuade them repeatedly with how dangerous it’ll be. They could die, you stress – this is war, after all. But they insist.

You put off saying goodbye to Chan until the day before you leave. He’s the one who finds you, actually – he has something to say, apparently, before you go.

It feels so strange, walking with Chan through the forest with the knowledge that you may never come back. It’s not like you’re a stranger to the evils of war – every time you rode into battle as a knight, you knew there was a high likelihood that you would die.

But it’s different, now. Jacob and your fellow Guards knew the risks of war – you were all seasoned fighters, trained in tactics and stealth and strategy. Here, you only have a very small group of fighters – reasonably good for the amount of training they’ve had, but lacking in true experience. They won’t understand the true horror of battle until they’ve experienced it themselves.

There’s something else, too. You’re leaving behind someone you love for the first time, someone who cannot come and fight by your side.

“Can I go first?” you ask, stopping by Hyunjin’s pond. You want to see the still waters one more time before you leave.

Chan nods. “Of course.”

“I…” You look down, mustering your courage. “I wanted to tell you that I love you.”

For a moment, there’s just silence. Then a sudden flush spreads across Chan’s cheeks.

It bolsters your confidence. “I know I don’t say it often,” you continue, enjoying the shyness on your guardian’s face, “but I really do. I wanted you to know that I’m not going off to help Jacob’s kingdom because I love him the way I used to, but because I still care about him as a friend.” You gaze into Chan’s clear eyes. “I love you very much, and I wanted to tell you that before I left.”

He presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “I never thought you were going to war out of romantic love for Jacob,” he says quietly. “You don’t need to worry about that, ever. I trust you.”

Your heart explodes with warmth. “So what is it that you had to tell me?”

“I never told you how forest guardians are chosen, did I?” Chan asks.

You shake your head. “No.”

“Well, sit down, and I’ll tell you now.” He smiles. “It’s a long story.”

Chan tells you of his first life as an oread, a mountain spirit settled in the craggy cliffs not too far from the forest. He tells you of the last guardian before him, a teasing fae named Jaebum.

“A fae?” you interrupt. “Isn’t that… not a good idea?” As lovely as Han and his lady are – you’ve met them several times by now – you wouldn’t exactly call him a suitable guardian. You’d say the same and more for his more sinister counterparts.

“Jaebum was different,” Chan says. “He cared deeply for the forest. After the two centuries I knew him, he found someone to love, to grow old with over time. He asked me to be forest guardian after he died.”

“So the current forest guardian chooses the next when they feel their time is over?” you clarify.

Chan nods, gazing into your eyes. “Yes.”

And all of a sudden, you understand.

“Chan, you –” You have to clear away the emotion rising in your throat. “You want to pass on the guardianship for me? To whom?”

“I’ve spoken to Changbin.” Chan smiles. “He was very receptive to the idea.”

“But – Chan, for me?” The old uncertainty starts to plague your mind. “Chan, I’m just… I’m just me.”

“Exactly.” Chan takes your hands in his. “You’re you. And I want to grow old with you. Live life with you. Don’t try to argue with me – this is something I know I want.”

You can’t even speak through the tears running down your face. “Chan –”

“Come here.” He wraps you in his warm arms. “I love you, Y/N. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

For how long you stay there, crying into Chan’s embrace, you don’t know. By the time you’re coherent enough to pull back, it feels like it’s been an eternity.

“So now you have to come back.” Chan smiles, though you can see a glimmer of fear, of uncertainty in his gaze. “You have to stay safe and come back for me, all right?”

“Yeah.” Hyunjin suddenly appears from the pond and you literally shriek, toppling backwards onto the grass. “You have to come back to Chan, or he’ll mope around for millennia and send the forest into ruin.” The nymph smirks, though you can see real concern hidden in his eyes.

“Like you moped for centuries over your cloud nymph?” Chan retorts, lips curved in an exasperated smile.

Hyunjin sniffs. “Details,” he says haughtily, already sinking back into his pool. He sends you a glance, though, that’s full of meaning.

You must come back. Don’t leave Chan waiting.

You make a silent promise that you won’t.

. . .

The next day, your cohort wakes up early. After yawning through a quick breakfast, you quickly gather your belongings and meet up at the front of the shrine. Several of the priestesses cluck over you like mother hens checking on their chicks, and you dutifully take their warnings and cautions with as light a smile as you can muster.

Chan shows up just as you’re about to go. The others thankfully leave you two alone for a bit (though you scowl at Kevin’s smirk and Lia’s whistle).

You don’t talk much, just stay wrapped in each other’s arms for several minutes. Eventually, though, dawn breaks. It’s time to leave.

“Be brave,” Chan whispers as you pull away.

You smile. “I’ll come back.”

With one last kiss that tastes of spring greenery, you leave the shrine. When you look back, Chan’s already disappeared.

. . .

It’s a long two years spent away from the shrine. The pace is difficult on your friends, who have only known the shrine as a home for so many years. For you, it’s a bit easier – you’ve been a traveler for a good few years, and it doesn’t take too long to settle back into the wanderer’s mindset, moving around, never staying in one place too long.

But they don’t complain. They’re strong, resilient, and resourceful – more so, really, than some of the knights you knew on the Guard. With their help, you launch quiet strikes at the border of Adment and Callia, taking down Adment’s forces small legion by small legion. Your group becomes known for your silent ambushes, though you take care to keep your identities hidden.

It’s like being a knight again on a smaller scale – planning attacks and carrying them out, knowing that you might lose your life or your friends along the way. It isn’t entirely unwelcome. Fighting still gives you that adrenaline rush, that grim, satisfying knowledge that you’re doing something to protect the people you love.

At the same time, though, it isn’t as fulfilling as it used to be. This life of fighting battles isn’t for you anymore. Yes, you will fight to defend, but you’ve found other ways to protect your loved ones, too.

It just cements the fact that you don’t think you’ll ever come back to Callia to stay.

Finally, Adment surrenders. You’re glad, truly – you’re ready to return to the shrine, as are your friends. As you begin the trek back through some of the rural villages, though, a few posters catch your eye. They spell out a request for the unknown border attackers to come forth to the palace and be honored for their aid in the war.

They know your story, Lia, Juyeon, Kevin, Sunwoo. It was only fair that you told them – how could you lead them to possible death without knowing why you came in the first place, why this was so important to you?

So you ask them. “Do you want to reveal yourselves?”

“I don’t think it’s a question of us,” Juyeon says quietly. “It’s about you.”

“Yes,” Lia echoes. “We’ll follow you, whatever you decide.”

Their trust still astounds you, even after so many years spent trying to dilute the self-loathing that used to plague your brain. “Give me a day to think,” you eventually say. “If you say you’ll follow me, I’ll let you know tomorrow.”

You stay up all night, debating. Your friends have already spent so long away from their home, fighting a war on your behalf. Is it worth it to take the extra few weeks spent traveling to and from the palace? Would it be fair to ask them to journey with you for even longer?

No, Y/N. You shake your head. They asked you to decide, which means they want a decision based on your feelings, on your desires. They’re kind enough to know that this must be your choice to make.

You sigh, leaning back against a sturdy tree. Why are you so hesitant about seeing Jacob again, anyway? You don’t love him anymore, not the way you used to. It doesn’t hurt you as much to think of him. Spirits, you even came all this way to help him in a war you weren’t even involved in.

Maybe you’re afraid that you’ll fall in love with him again, a tiny voice in your head suggests. Maybe you’re afraid that you’ll want to stay.

Oh.

That’s probably it.

Pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes, you sigh again. You love Chan. You love the shrine. You’ve realized that fighting battles as a knight isn’t the way you want to spend the rest of your life. But you’re still afraid that seeing Jacob again will awaken feelings for him once more.

Wait. You sit up, frowning into the darkness. For your feelings to awaken, they would still have to exist.

You don’t love Jacob anymore. The thought of him doesn’t make your heart thump anymore, doesn’t choke your throat with emotions anymore.

Logically, rationally, seeing him again wouldn’t hurt the way it used to.

But love isn’t rational, the oh-so-helpful part of your mind pipes up.

You scowl. Stop making this decision harder.

As the fire dies to glowing coals, as your friends quietly snore throughout the night (except Sunwoo, he snores very loudly), you sit there, mind warring with fear.

By morning, you’ve made your decision.

. . .

The palace is almost the same as you remembered – high, polished stone walls surrounded by a bustling marketplace and lush gardens. The grass looks a bit wilted and the market chatter sounds subdued, but the kingdom has just gone through a war. You would be more worried, really, if everything looked exactly as beautiful as it used to be.

Anxiety bursts in your chest as you slip through the crowds, face covered in a scarf, getting closer and closer to the palace. Three of the Guard stand sentinel at front gates, and even though you’re too far away to see their faces, you’re sure you’d recognize at least a couple of them up close.

“Breathe,” Kevin whispers helpfully next to you. “You’ll be fine.”

You nod shakily. “Yeah.”

Two of the Guard cross their spears over the gates as you approach. The third steps forward, meeting your gaze.

Your heart skips a beat at the sight of an old friend. Changmin!

“State your business,” Changmin says, eyes unmoved. It stings a little that he doesn’t recognize you, but it’s understandable. You’ve both changed over the years – you’ve grown out your hair, while he’s cut his shorter, and he’s lost the last baby fat from his cheeks – and you have a scarf covering half of your face.

“I have business with the king,” you reply, heart hammering in your chest. “I believe my presence was specifically requested, along with that of my friends from the border.”

Faint recognition lights Changmin’s eyes, though they also narrow in slight confusion. He looks at you for a second, gaze piercing yours.

“Is something wrong?” you ask. “We can leave our weapons at the gates, if you wish.”

Changmin shakes his head, shoulders slumped in resignation. “No, I just thought you sounded like someone I once knew.” He looks down. “She had a sword like yours, too.”

Your heart hammers at your old friend’s words. What would he say if he did know it was you?

His voice cuts through your panicked thoughts. “May I have a name by which to introduce you to His Majesty?”

Last chance, you tell yourself. Last chance to turn back.

You won’t lie – the choice sounds appealing, at least to your pounding heart. Glancing up at the high stone walls, you feel the old urge to run away.

You could. You could turn away from the gates right now, leave Changmin remembering someone who will never return. You could travel back to the shrine and forget this ever happened.

But Chan told you to be brave. And being brave doesn’t only apply to war.

You pull down your scarf, smiling at the incredulous expression spreading over Changmin’s face. “You can tell him an old friend’s come back to visit.”

. . .

After yelling at you for never visiting and punching you at least ten times (your arm is so, so sore, but as he reminds you, you should just be glad he didn’t challenge you to a duel right then and there), Changmin brings you into one of the waiting rooms. “I’ll find you and bite you if I come back and see that you’ve disappeared again,” he threatens before heading back into the halls.

Sunwoo raises an eyebrow, looking mildly disturbed. “Bite you?”

You snort, smiling widely. “Long story.”

Too soon, though, there’s another set of footsteps echoing outside of the room. The smile slowly starts to slip off your face, and your heart, previously calmed by Changmin’s characteristic welcome, starts to pound again.

Be brave. Chan’s voice speaks in your mind. Be brave.

You steel yourself.

Then Jacob appears in the doorway, and the room feels like it’s falling away.

. . .

By the time your mind has caught up to the present, you’re wrapped in Jacob’s strong arms, in one of those Jacob hugs that you used to yearn for every day. It’s comforting, warm, but to your pleasant surprise, there’s no hurt. No pain.

You only feel happy.

“You came back,” Jacob whispers, more to himself than to you. “You came back.”

You just laugh, squeezing your best friend harder. “I did.”

Thankfully, your friends understand that you need some time with Jacob alone. Changmin leads them out, already bickering with Sunwoo (how they became friends so quickly, you’re not sure you want to know). In the silence of the room, you and Jacob just stare at each other for a moment.

“I –”

“What –”

You burst into laughter and Jacob joins in, feeling heady with absolute bliss and relief that your worst fears haven’t been realized. You haven’t fallen back in love with Jacob at first sight. His mere presence doesn’t make you want to stay.

“You first,” Jacob finally says when you’ve calmed down. “You first.”

The laughter disappears from your throat as your smile dims. “I never told you the full reason why I left.”

Jacob is a good listener, a fact that you’re grateful for. If he’d interrupted you at any point, you aren’t sure you would’ve been able to continue. Still, though, it’s harrowing, recounting the love you felt for your best friend for so long.

“When I left the first time, I didn’t have any intention of returning.” You state the harsh truth with a bitter taste in your mouth. “I couldn’t bring myself to tell you about what I felt, so seeing you only hurt. I didn’t… I didn’t want to feel any more pain.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Jacob’s eyes are cloudy, filled with pain on your behalf. “I’m so sorry. If I’d known…”

“Stop.” You put a hand on his shoulder. “One reason I didn’t tell you was because I knew you’d blame yourself. It isn’t your fault. None of it is.”

Jacob sits in silence for a moment. “But you did come back.”

“I did.” A small smile curves your lips. “I found a place that took me in, allowed me to try and find myself once more. I found someone who helped me heal. So when I heard about the war, I didn’t have qualms about coming to help. It was something… I knew it was something I had to do.”

Jacob’s eyes clear. “I see. Your someone, your, um…”

“Husband,” you offer. It’s the closest thing to what Chan is to you that Jacob would understand.

He nods. “Your husband didn’t come?”

“No.” You shake your head. “I came with friends. We have our own things to protect, back at home.”

Home. That word surprises you as it leaves your lips. Home.

The forest, the shrine is your home.

It’s the first time you’ve made this connection. With the realization, a sudden burst of warmth fills your chest.

“I see.” Jacob leans forward, looking genuinely happy for you. “Things are going well, then?”

Briefly, you wonder if you should tell him about the shrine. You decide not to. That’s your secret to keep, at least for now.

“Yes, they are.” A smile involuntarily spreads across your face. “Very well.”

For a moment, the two of you just sit in comfortable silence. Then Jacob speaks. “Can I persuade you again to stay?” he asks, though from the look in his eye, you’re pretty sure he already knows your answer. “You can bring your husband and friends. There will always be a place for you here.”

It feels like you’re being thrown back in time to that day in the training room, just a few months before you left. Your answer is still the same as it was then, so many years ago.

But you have something else to add.

You shake your head. “Not this time, Jacob.” Your smile grows smaller, but softer. “Though I do promise I’ll visit you again.”

. . .

On the horses Jacob gifted you, it only takes a few weeks to return to the forest. You see the children and the priestesses first, waiting at the front of the shrine, followed by the other maidens and messenger boys. Their shouts of welcome bring a smile to your face.

Then Chan appears when you’re riding up to the gates, crushing you in a hug almost before you’ve leapt off your horse.

You lose yourself in your guardian’s warmth, in the strength of his arms wrapped around your body. It feels so similar to Jacob’s hugs, so comforting and soft and strong, but also so uniquely Chan. You laugh into his chest, tears beginning to stream down your face.

“I’m back,” you gasp between the tears. “I’m back, Chan.”

“I know,” he whispers, only holding you closer. “I know.”

A blissful eternity passes, wrapped in Chan’s arms, until he pulls back the slightest bit, just enough to press a long-awaited kiss on your lips. “You’re back,” he says one more time, as though he still can’t quite believe it.

“I am,” you confirm. “I did it, Chan.”

He knows. He knows, looking into your eyes, what you mean by “it.” He knows you don’t just mean that you fought Adment, that you came home alive. He knows there’s something more.

Something involving a certain past love.

Warm, warm pride blooms in Chan’s eyes. “Were you brave?”

Memories race through your mind – staunching bloody wounds, trekking through the forests at the border – but you know that isn’t what Chan means. He knows you can be brave in the midst of battle, brave in protecting those you love the most.

He wants to know if you were brave with him.

Your eyes twinkle as you remember the palace gates, seeing Changmin again, landing in Jacob’s arms once more. You remember his soft voice, his kind eyes full of real, platonic care, a memory you’ll treasure for years to come.

Where you once might have grimaced at the thought of your old home, now, the smile on your face only broadens with every passing second.

“Yes.” Your laughing gaze sparkles into Chan’s proud eyes. “I was.”

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willowbird · 3 years

Note

HEY for the prompt game: au 7, trope 3 (i love chaos), and very specific location 2? i'll leave the pairing up to your whimsy i just saw the combination of au and trope and HAD to request it lmao

Foxes as kids, foxes WITH kids, INSIDE ANDREW'S CLOSET.

Guys guys guys there were SO MANY WAYS I wanted to do this that my brain kinda exploded for a moment before I decided to go this route. Hope you enjoy!

---

"Oh no oh no oh no oh no!!!!!”

Andrew looked up at the ceiling, where the small, modern chandelier above the kitchen island swung in time with the distressed shouts and several ominous thumps. He looked over to where his husband was flipping pancakes and rose a single brow in question.

Neil shrugged, as if to say 'How should I know?'

A brief staring contest ensued, continued chaos still racketing upstairs. Finally, Andrew lifted one hand and curled it into a fist. Neil lifted his own, and after a brief round of rock-paper-scissors Andrew sighed to his loss and pushed away from the counter.

Neil caught the edge of his shirt as he passed him, tugging him in for a quick kiss. "I'll put extra chocolate chips in the pancakes."

"Bribery is unnecessary when you won fair and square," Andrew grumbled back.

Neil raised his eyebrows. "You turning down more chocolate? I mean okay, if you're-"

Andrew cut him off with a kiss. "Too late to take it back." Then he turned and headed out of the kitchen, only to be nearly mowed down by a wide-eyed eight-year-old.

"Watch yourself there, Kev," Andrew cautioned as he prevented the gangly child from sending them both to the ground.

The kid's big bottle-green eyes were wide with alarm. "Dad! He's going bonkers! I dunno what's wrong with him." He wrinkled his nose. "Well, there is a lot wrong with him. But I mean I don't know what's wrong with him today."

Andrew sighed, more because he was pretty sure he did know what was going rather than because he didn't. It was honestly better if Kevin just thought his brother was being weirder than usual for as long as possible. He had a feeling that if Kevin could get any leverage on his spazzy older brother he'd turn into even more of a terror than he already was.

Andrew ruffled his younger son's hair and gave him a nudge. "I'll check on him. Go help your dad with breakfast."

Kevin perked up. "Pancakes?"

"Pancakes," Andrew confirmed with a solemn nod.

"Do you think dad'll make one in the silhouette of a dead French guy?!”

"If you ask him, maybe."

That's all it took, and the kid was taking off like a shot again. Andrew watched him go, grimacing at the thought that they would probably have to enroll him in sports this year if only to help him burn off all that damned energy. He was just as bad as Neil.

A scampering upstairs followed by the slam of a door drew Andrew's attention back to matter at hand. The slammed door did not come from either of the boys' rooms, but rather the opposite end of the hall, where Neil and Andrew's room was. In all, this wasn't all that surprising - at least not when it came to his fourteen-year-old. He'd been hiding in Andrew and Neil's closet whenever he got particularly upset since he was four and Neil had performed a "magic ritual" to make the closet a "bunker against all evil".

Andrew climbed the steps and made his way down the hall, stopping once he came to the closed closet door. From inside he could hear the muffled mutterings of an anxious teenager. He lifted a hand and knocked with just two knuckles.

When there was no answer, he knocked again and asked, voice mild, "Can I come in?"

Then he waited, giving his son time to process that he was here for him, whatever the issue was. Almost a full minute passed before a tight, watery voice said, "Y-you can come in."

Permission granted, Andrew swung open the door to find Nicky curled up in the corner, cheeks flushed and brown eyes full of tears. Nicky was technically Andrew's much younger cousin on his biological mother's side, but he and Neil had adopted him when, at two, DCFS took him away from his parents due to a severe case of neglect. The first few years had been tense - because Luther and Maria had tried to fight it - but Andrew's adoptive mother was a child psychologist and Neil's foster sister a renowned family lawyer.

Even without the connections they would have fought to the death to keep Nicky, though. From the second they brought him home, he was theirs, and they were the only real parents the boy had ever known.

"H-hey pops," Nicky stammered through a poorly-attempted smile.

Andrew waved away the bravado and took a seat next to his son. "Should I talk to Grandpa Wymack about getting us a bigger closet? We aren't both going to fit in here much longer," he said lightly, a soft opening for Nicky to tell him what had him so upset.

Nicky laughed, a more genuine sound, then sniffed and rubbed at his eyes. "N-no. I'm sorry. I just..."

Andrew shook his head to stop him. "I would rather pay to have the closet expanded than take away a place you feel safe when you are upset."

As he watched, tears filled Nicky's eyes again, then he launched forward and it was honestly probably a good thing that the closet was a tight fit, otherwise Andrew might have gotten knocked over by the force of the hug. As it were, he was able to catch his son, patting his back only slightly awkwardly as Nicky let out a choked sob and began to ramble:

"..and then I told him that I liked his EARS oh my god Pops I am such a MORON why couldn't I tell him that I liked his eyes like a normal human or even that I liked his mouth or something!? That's sexy right? Oh my god this is terrible. And then! AND THEN I went and I liked about ten of his posts IN A ROW LIKE A CREEP and he NOTICED and then he MESSAGED ME and oh my god I can never show my face again.."

There was very little that Andrew could do other than listen, so that was what he did. As he did, though, he felt a warmth pool in his chest. A warmth that his son felt so safe and comfortable in his and Neil's space that he came here to hide when he felt upset. A warmth that he felt so comfortable, so safe with Andrew that he invited him into that space with him. That his son would cling to him and ramble about his boy problems without fear of judgement. That the biggest problems Nicky had right now were typical teenaged woes, not all the horrors that both Andrew and his husband were far too aware of existing in the world.

"I just don't know what to DO. Oh my god my life is OVER," Nicky finished with a flourish, pulling back and looking up at him with wide dark eyes.

After a thoughtful pause, Andrew finally gave a hum and said, "Well, that depends."

"Depends?"

Andrew shrugged. "Does he really have cute ears?"

Nicky made and high, defeated sound, burying his face in his hands. "They are ADORABLE, Pops. A-dor-a-ble."

"Ah." Andrew nodded his understanding and patted his son on the shoulder. "Then I think that definitely calls for extra chocolate chips in the pancakes."

And, because Nicky was a teenaged boy with boy problems - but he was also still a teenaged boy (and moreover, he was Andrew's son), his head went up and his eyes brightened. "Chocolate chips."

"And whipped cream."

"Oh!" Nicky scrambled to his feet and bounded out of the closet with a flourish, only to come up short when Andrew snagged the back of his shirt.

"And Nicky, those crashes from before..?"

Nicky blushed brightly and glanced out the bedroom door toward his own room and quickly back again. "Um.. I'll clean up after breakfast?"

Andrew put on his most impactful Dad Stare, then gave a firm nod before letting go. "You better. Now hurry on before Kevin eats them all."

Nicky yelped in an entirely new kind of distress, all but sprinting out of the room. "KEVIN DON'T YOU DARE YOU LITTLE MONSTER!"

Andrew watched him go and didn't bother to stop the smile that crawled onto his face from a hidden chamber somewhere in the center of his heart. There was once a time he might have resisted it, when he was younger and wounded and angry, his teeth bared against a world that had only ever hurt him. Now, though? Now there was so much fierce, protective warmth inside of him - so much pride, so much adoration, so much love, that he no longer saw the expression of joy as a sign of weakness.

Shouts and scuffling downstairs pulled him out of his thoughts and he sighed to himself, but he was still wearing the smile as he headed down to breakfast.

#aftg prompts #asks #aftg #aftg fanfic #andrew and neil as dads #because i can #don't @ me #idc if it seems OOC #these are fun fluffy ficlets of randomness

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minerva--mcgee · 2 years

Text

there's a pretty rare side effect associated with my mood stabilizer where too much of the drug builds up in your bloodstream and makes you incredibly sick. in the most extreme cases, it can cause coma or death. in mild to moderate cases, it causes nausea, vomiting, headaches, and neurological symptoms. the half life for this med is very short, so the drug leaves your body completely after a few days and symptoms resolve unless you've had a severe case. i have been on this medication since june.

i currently have toxicity. this is the SECOND time i've had it. the first time, my doctor and i concluded, was because i was working in a pizza parlor for seven hours a day 5-6 a week when the ac went out in the middle of august and i became grossly dehydrated, which caused my levels to skyrocket. i was out of commission for a few days, but i was fine after about four days. this go around, the best guess we have for what happened is that i am very forgetful about my meds, and i frequently need to reassess in the late morning and walk through my steps to figure out if i had taken my meds. this happened both saturday and sunday morning. both days i came to the conclusion that i had NOT taken my meds that morning, and took them again. we think that maybe one or both days i double-dosed, and because the therapeutic window for the level of this medication in your blood stream is so narrow, and i am on an already high dose, it tippped me over the edge and made me sick again. i got my levels checked, and sure enough, i was toxic.

i asked my psychiatrist, "so, how many patients do you have on this medication?"

she said, "so many!"

i pause, and say "and how many cases of toxicity have you seen?"

she goes, "molly, you're not gonna believe this, literally ZERO."

so i guess that i'm just ✨special✨ and have incredibly shit luck. the worst part of it all, though, is this: on monday, while i was on my hands and knees on the main lawn of campus after class, dragging my way to my car like a zombie in the walking dead and repeated throwing up what was just stomach bile at this point, people kept coming up to me asking if they could help me. i found this to be annoying, so i called my mother to try and make it look like i already had help and people would stop approaching me (in my defense, it worked.) i told my mom i was throwing up, and IMMEDIATELY she asks me if it's toxicity. i told her don't be fucking paranoid, that's so rare and i'm not dehydrated, there's no WAY i can be toxic. she insists that i reach out to my doctor and my doctor called me an hour later. after explaining the situation, she says it's better to be safe than sorry, and to get the bloodwork done. FUCKING SURE ENOUGH, my mother was right.

anyway, i had to call my mom and open myself up to her "i told you so" lecture, and to her credit, she didn't say that, she was just upset that i was sick, and it makes her nervous for me to be on such a high dose of a dangerous drug.

sorry this is so long and i definitely don't expect anyone to read all this lmao, but like god damn??? my doctor has never seen a case of this and i've had it TWICE IN A YEAR??? what the hell is my life???

#molly does psychiatry #kathleen #fuck my life

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iamnightduchess · 3 years

Note

Hai Queen, can you make HC of ReiKasa's secret fetishes? (Lmao I'm so embarrassed) or if they uhm BDSM, what will they do?

Hello luv, thank you for the Ask! Happy belated birthday in advance. I am so sorry for the delayed wish 🙏 Here's hoping this will be a good belated gift for you 💖

Reiner x Mikasa (ReiKasa) Extremely Kinky Sexy Times Modern AU (R20+) Headcanon #12

(A/N: ‼️WARNING‼️Graphic/Explicit Description of very dirty smut with potentially provocative images ⛔ Please don't click Keep Reading if you're below 20 🙅‍♀️ Sorry kiddos! To my more adult readers, please absorb this post's content with appropriate discretion & maturity)

Ring the alarm because it's going to get extremely fiery in this zone 😳🔥🔥🔥 If i'm going to horny jail, I'm taking you guys with me haha

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Reiner & Mikasa have a very comfortable (and vanilla) sex life. However, they do have some secret kinks that they share behind closed doors. The kinks are only discovered after they've been together for at least half a year based on the trust they have built through their relationship. Reiner and Mikasa would at least go on between 10-15 dates before they become intimate with each other & exploring the more physical aspects of their relationship. These two don't f**k. They make love; slow, tantric, gazing into each other's eye kind of loving. When their bodies fuse, so do their souls.

BUT, after months of getting comfortable with each other's bodies, that is when they know they are both ready to bring in more colors into their sex life and ready to take it to the next level. It takes some time on Mikasa's end because this woman has some insecurities with the way her body is built. Yet Reiner helps her build her confidence a lot by giving her the space and the time she needs to truly let herself go with him and he is the kind of man that embraces HER body type the way she is. But if Reiner could describe Mikasa's body with one word, it'll be with heaven-sent.

Secret Fetishes

Muscle Kinks (Both)

No, not the literal muscle kink 🤣 Mikasa admires Reiner's body very much - his strong and sturdy shoulders and his large Nordic build reminds her of the statue of Ares she had once saw in Greece. His biceps are her most favorite go-to body parts of his (during sex especially) when she wants to sneak in quick affectionate touches, kisses or squeezes (apart from his butt!). Mikasa expresses her feelings better through touches. Let's just say she can't keep her hands away from his a$$ when they're in private. Reiner has also learned to know that the tighter her grip is on his biceps while he's inside of her, it means he's hitting her sweet spots just right.

Meanwhile for Reiner, he doesn't have a very specific favorite on Mikasa because he loves every part of her! Although he's developed an affinity for her breasts and abs. He'd jokingly say that he'll eat off her body if he could (like those kinky sushi bars haha) 😏 But, to Mikasa, Reiner knows exactly how to suck her soul out of her body through certain sensitive points of hers using his sinful lips.

Fellatio (Reiner)

Like most men, Reiner loves getting blowjobs. He finds himself in bliss yet being extremely defeated every time Mikasa goes down on him. This woman, apart from having a pair of strong grips, rather unexpectedly, has a strong jaw muscle and exceptional gag reflex control. She swallows too ;) He'd almost instantaneously comes when she pulls double jobs on him (mouth & breasts) at the same time. He also loves running his fingers through her hair and seeing the intensity in her gaze when they lock eyes while he's deep inside her mouth. Mikasa devours him like she would with her favorite ice-cream: lots of tongue, sucking and loads of slurping.

Cunnilingus (Mikasa)

Mikasa isn't a very loud lover but only Reiner is able to make her whimper helplessly with his mouth and fingers. Reiner sucks so well (pun intended) that she'll end up being a heaving mess when he's done with her. Mikasa has become an acquired taste for Reiner. He knows exactly the right amount of pressure to apply using his tongue and teeth on that sensitive spot of hers until he drinks her dry. These two love the receiving and giving aspect of their lovemaking. So, yes, they enjoy doing the 34+35 a lot ;)

Mild Kink - Foreplay, hair pulling, loads of biting & scratching (both)

As referenced in this post, Reiner & Mikasa are both biters. He likes pulling her hair if he takes her from behind and she'll grip his back or his arms so hard that her nails would always break his skin if he's taking her in missionary. BUT, the sweetest part of their lovemaking is always their foreplay. Reiner loves running his fingers along her thighs, hips and back and takes pride when he can make her shiver with tiny prickling goosebumps on her skin. That way, he knows he's making her feel really good. Also, when he gets her all wet and gushy. *Bixby, play WAP by Cardi B & Megan Thee Stallion 😳

Asphyxiation (both)

We're almost getting into BDSM territory. Depending on their mood for lovemaking, Reiner and Mikasa injects a li'l bit of mild asphyxiation while they're in deep penetration mode; just a little bit & not too much. They have a strong level of trust between them that they've never accidentally gripped too hard on or hurt the other. Their safe word for this: ACE.

Roleplay (Both)

Even after years of being together (even after the children comes into the picture), Reiner and Mikasa enjoys frequent roleplaying. Usually takes place during their wedding anniversaries to keep their marriage fresh and spicy. From pretending to be strangers meeting in a hotel bar, to hot plumber and the sexy housewife and to reliving their highschool tropes, these two have no qualms in putting on some disguises while getting their freak on.

Public Sex (Reiner) / Risk-taker (Mikasa)

Now, Mikasa is an extremely private, introverted person and her definition of public is more of having the risk of being heard of than the location itself. At the beginning of their exploratory phase, the furthest location beyond the bedroom that she's ever been comfortable in would be their house kitchen in broad daylight.

Even then, she'd be the one who'd make the first move because Reiner once shared that it'll be interesting to try sneaking a quickie when/where they're not supposed to.

Reiner wears reading glasses when he works at home and Mikasa always finding herself feeling a little turned on when he does. There's just something inexplicably sexy when she sees her gorgeous man getting all engrossed in serious work mode.

One time, Reiner was in a Zoom call with Magath and his Warrior unit and suddenly his woman just walks out of their bedroom with nothing but his tshirt on, sans underwear. Mikasa intentionally reaches for things in the top shelf and bending over the kitchen counter a little bit more than usual just to tease him. Well, it worked and he had to maintain a straight face when his vidcam is still on with his raging hard-on or while she's sucking him off from underneath their kitchen table. As soon as the Zoom call ends, Mikasa's getting the pounding, I mean, the punishment that she deserves.

There was also that one time when he was in an online gaming party with Armin, Jean and Connie, while an almost naked Mikasa was riding him hard at the same time. The boys still couldn't explain why Reiner was suddenly silent in-game (he said his mic was being weird) and why he was voluntarily sacrificing his character repeatedly while they're in the middle of a boss fight during that session haha

If they're in the kitchen, expect some edibles to add on a little more spice such as ice on his pecs and abs as well as whipping cream all over hers.

BDSM (Both) - including Blindfold, Bondage, Spanking, Dom & Sub subtext

Reiner is a man of strict discipline and Mikasa is a woman with a fixed routine but their sex life reflects both authority and flexibility that balances with their pre-planned kink-exploration techniques. Reiner and Mikasa both take turns to be the giver and receiver. Seriously, the level of trust and carnal attraction between these two are phenomenal.

When she's the one receiving, Mikasa would surrender all of her self control to Reiner's hands and hot damn, when this man is in his dominating mode, Mikasa would end up screaming and biting into the pillow because Reiner can be extremely firm in delaying her gratification. Playing with her like a skilled musician would to his instrument, Reiner knows how Mikasa's body works and responds to his touch. He likes raising her limits higher every time.

This man can be scary manipulative when he's the dom and he will leave her begging for his mercy. He has amazing hands made for comforting massages and well, orgasmic spanking. Their safe word when he's the Dom: DIAMONDS.

Reiner tried addressing himself as 'Daddy' with Mikasa one time before spanking her. Needless to say, she ended up rolling on the bed laughing. That session failed gloriously. She'll made a point, however, to use that specific endearment years down the lane as their secret keyword in front of their kids when Mummy's in the mood for some heavy bonding with Daddy 🙈 In the end, she still calls him 'Daddy' for sex? 🤷‍♀️ orz

When he's the one receiving, he will be the most hard-to-break sub and lucky for him, Mikasa is a persistent dom. He loves it when he can let go and just be fully vulnerable with her. She will make him kneel, she will make him beg and Reiner loves it when she takes control over him.

He pretended to resist against his restraints even more just so she would inflict on him harder. Although, Reiner has some underlying emotional issues and has some repressed self-aggression with innate desires that need to be 'reprimanded' in a sense. He's a physically strong figure in the public eye but he is emotionally and psychologically vulnerable due to some issues that began in his childhood that was only addressed professionally later on in his young adult life. He also has some attrition to pain that needs to be channeled safely and Mikasa is the only woman who he can be open and honest with, who has strong impenetrable limits to receive and hard resolve to inflict on him when he truly needs it. Their safe word when she's the dom: SPADES.

Usually, after a very intense session, these two would soothe each other with a long, warm embrace or just hold each other for far longer in the showers before pulling themselves back into their neutral zone. They'll usually slip into something much more comfortable afterwards with some comfort food, weighted blanket and streaming services. Reiner and Mikasa both are physically and emotionally built perfectly for each other that it's so surreal. Their bond, love and trust just run even deeper with each passing day that he believes when they sleep, their souls would still be looking for each other.

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Sorry it got even longer than I expected but I had super fun thinking & working on this! Thank you so much for the Ask & I hope you've had a memorable celebration this year ❤ xoxo

#ReiKasa #ReiKasa asks #ReiKasa smut #ReiKasa reimagines #ReiKasa headcanons #ReiKasa sexy headcanons #ReiKasa unadulterated #reiner x mikasa #strictly ReiKasa #reiner braun #mikasa ackerman #ReiKasaverse #ReiKasa modern AU #ReiKasa kink!time

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sneezefiction · 4 years

Note

hello! I've been going down your masterlist and I love your writing! most of them are so sweet 🥺 could I request a hc of reader dating daichi, but he lives with kuroo and bokuto so she spends a lot of time with them. maybe what your friendship is like with kuroo and bokuto separately, how daichi reacts to you being so close to those 2, and how you guys hang out as a group/what kinda trouble they get you into since you're the only girl in the group 😅

Daichi x fem!reader // Kuroo and Bokuto x reader - Headcanons

description: dating Daichi basically means dating his roommates, Kuroo and Bokuto too. here are some fluffy separate and group dynamics between you and these 3 babes. you’re def dating Daichi tho, hun. just to be clear~

a/n: ahh this was so fun to mess around with!! it was a nice break from regular headcanons. separating them into categories and elements was interesting. it got a bit long & wordy for a headcanon, sorry heh. it’s basically an everyone x reader at this point lmao apologies, Daichi thank you tons for the request and for the compliments <33

warnings: slight cursing

total wc: 1000

---

Let’s start with these star boy roommates and work our way from there~

Kuroo and Bokuto:

Okay, so they get that you’re taken and all that

But that doesn’t mean they’re gonna lay off of their teasing and flirty habits with you

You’ll walk into their apartment, searching for Daichi and immediately be bombarded with stuff like,

“Damn, y/n, you’re lookin good tonightttt. Where you headed?”

Just all kinds of flirty commends from Kuroo. It won’t end.

Bokuto definitely peeks around the hall after hearing all this, golden eyes glowing in the dark

You just laugh as Daichi pokes his own head out of the kitchen with a look that could kill a man

“Just out with Daichi, Kuroo, leave me aloneeee.” You’ll beg, still giggling

He’ll leave you be for awhile, but when you and Daichi get back from your date, he’ll jokingly ask you to take him out instead next time since, “I’m way more fun than that wet blanket of a boyfriend.”

Kuroo gets points for great pick up lines and scarily specific knowledge about romcoms

On the other hand, Bokuto is super confident with being physical around you

He definitely finds ways to play with your hair and will give you the best back massages

He’ll rope you into sitting with him by telling you that he has important news or a great story from his day

As he distracts you with his words, Bokuto’s hands will find their way to your hair or to your shoulders

You naturally lean into his touch and enjoy the soothing closeness with the spiky-haired boy

After a mild cuddling session with Bo, his energy becomes electric no matter what time it is

Like, it’ll be 1am and you’ll be laughing at something he said and place your hand on his chest to push him away playfully and he’ll just be all “AJldjsdlsjJKKD”

You’re definitely invited over for movie nights with just these two whenever Daichi is out late

You make them popcorn and they pile blankets on you and check every once in awhile to see if your okay or if you’ve fallen asleep

They joke that if Daichi ever leaves or does anything to hurt you, they’ll beat him up and take his place in a heartbeat

You know they would never interfere with your current relationship, but that doesn’t mean they won’t be there if it doesn’t work out ;) (Daichi is so ready to knock some sense into these kids)

Both boys will always have a slight crush on you, them’s the facts

Daichi:

So the other two babes are great, but the whole reason you even met those goobers is thanks to your hero of a boyfriend

Daichi made sure you knew the boys really well before suggesting you come over

You’ve made many great choices, but becoming friends with your boyfriend’s besties has been one of the most rewarding

Relationally and communally

You’re definitely grateful that you’re dating Daichi though

Kuroo and Bokuto are wonderful, but you fell for someone with a more chill persona for a reason

You’d been looking for someone who was wanted to make you feel safe and warm, who could sit in comfortable silence with you, and wanted you for more than just what you looked like

Yeah, Daichi was more your speed. He could joke, he can sass, but the man can also get serious… and you find that pretty sexy

If Bo or Kuroo start overstepping boundaries, Daichi turns into what you like to call “Jealous Dad-chi”

He’ll wrap his muscular arms around your waist, no matter where you are, and lift you away from their grasp and prying eyes

If you’re at home he’ll drag you back to his room, giving the boys a death glare, receiving snickers of victory in return

“Y/n… I know you don’t seem to realize this, but they’re all over you again.” He’ll explain, “I know we both love em, but stop letting them take advantage of you, okay?” He sighs

“You’re too cute for this world.” He covers his eyes with his hands in exasperation

“Somebody’s just jealous, that’s all.” You decide, but still reach toward his face, prying his hands off his eyes

“You’re the only one I have eyes for, Daichi.” You smile, tilting your head

This man will be so flustered and won’t let you go for the rest of the night

Group Dynamics:

Being the only girl in a group of 3 boys is never very easy

When you first met Bo and Kuroo, you just hoped you wouldn’t bore them and that your interactions would be smooth and not awkward

Sorry kiddo, but this arrangement was never meant to be smooth and is better suited for the words flirty, chaotic, and baffling.

But just because it isn’t smooth doesn’t mean it isn’t fun and invigorating

These boys have been your best friends, your counselors, and your protectors ever since you decided you join their funky lil crew

When Daichi, Kuroo, and Bokuto find you getting hit on by some creep, damn do they pounce

You’ll never see anything more intimidating than 3 tall, fit, intense guys approaching at once

Also can we talk about how obnoxious the boys humor gets when it’s just the 3 of them

They’ll be up late cackling like hyenas and snorting over inside jokes

Don’t even get me started on the level of testosterone in this apartment ugh

Whatever game they play, argument they get wrapped up in, or competition they come up with, it won’t end for hours… sometimes even days

And trust me, it’s not pretty

But that’s why you’re here. You refresh, excite, and intrigue them, taking their minds off of their usual boyish, unrefined lives

Being around you brings them a sense of calm and care that they’d never have known if you hadn’t shown up

They adore and savor your presence and opinion, wanting you to be apart of their discussions and asking you to join them for all of their group outings

you’re the sweetest girlfriend and the most wonderful friend to each of these messy, adorable boys

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #daichi x reader #daichi sawamura #daichi #kuroo x reader #kuroo testuro #kuroo #bokuto x reader #bokuto kotaro #bokuto #hq headcanons #daichi headcanon #kuroo headcanon #bokuto headcanons #sneezefiction

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forhereyesonlyyy · 4 years

Text

for you. // itzy, syn. // one-shot.

in which your childhood best friend tries to distract you from the fact that you’re totally flunking all of your classes by taking you to the places you considered were special to you when you were younger, and you remember why they were so close to your heart in the first place.

word count: 4.8k

author’s note: writing this was really fun, i hope you all enjoy 💓 i apologize for the inconsistency of my updates, i don’t have a scheduler, i literally just drop these out of nowhere and call it a day,,, as for the requests, i will get them done eventually! i am sorry for the long wait, i swear i am just,,, lacking inspiration lately lmao.

genre: high school au, fluff all the way baby, friends to lovers (although, the ‘lovers’ part isn’t specifically stated anywhere.)

tw: mild violence, brief mention of blood.

“(Y/N), I believe you have a clue as to why you're here when classes have concluded?" The guidance counselor, Ms. Jung, said as her assuming eyes traveled from a piece of paper to your eyes. You sat quietly across from the older woman, anxiously bouncing your leg and scratching the cushion you were sitting on. Being called to the guidance counselor's office was something that hasn't happened to you before and not knowing the reason why you're there makes everything just a tad bit more scarier.

On a normal day, you would be walking home with your best friend at this time of day. And speaking of your best friend, you dreaded seeing the look on her face when you meet her by the school gate so late. You had promised to treat her to some ice cream after getting the results for the important test you both took today.

Oh, yeah, that's why I'm here, you thought. You couldn't help but sigh deeply at the realization of it all. You completely butchered the test, and now you were getting the talk from the counselor.

"Your teachers always talk about how you're a well-mannered student who is loved by everyone since the day you entered this school. However," Ms. Jung pushes the piece of paper towards you. You leaned forward to look at the paper and feel your head spin at the sight of so many... failed tests. "You don't make an effort to try at all." The counselor said.

You leaned back on your chair and stared at the bulletin board behind the counselor's desk in an attempt to avoid the older woman's gaze. You could not tell her that you have been trying to get your grades up ever since the first time you got a C+ on a test because you realized that you would just sound dumber than you already look.

You felt your heart swell at your wasted efforts and oh, you just wanted to go home and shut yourself off from the world for a little bit to clear your head, but you know that it wouldn't do anything to your grades. Now you were regretting rejecting an older student's offer to tutor you.

I really shouldn't have brushed off that opportunity. There's no way Jisu can make time for me now. She's a graduating student, I know she must be busy with more important things, you thought. You dread for the time when you have to go home and show your parents your current grade. They never really showed mercy at these kind of things.

You left the guidance counselor's office with a heavy heart. What would your best friend think of you now? The two of you were competing to beat the other into getting the higher grade this school year, there's no doubt that she'll make fun of you because of this.

You can already see her big, toothy grin in your head and if you weren't so devastated, you would've laughed because your best friend's face really puts you at ease. But for some reason, it was doing the opposite at the moment.

You walked past the doors of the building and from the top of the five steps that lead to the door, you could see your best friend's tall figure standing near the school gates.

Shin Yuna, looking cute as ever, had a pout on her face as she leaned against the gates. Her long, lustrous blonde hair was pulled up in a tight ponytail and she wore a big grey jacket on top of her school uniform. It was your jacket. Her tan legs stretched out from under her plaid skirt and you still can't wrap your head around the fact that she was nearly two heads taller than you and the two of you are the same age!

As you walked closer to the gates, you watched as Yuna kicked a pebble solemnly. She hated waiting. It makes her anxious, especially if you don't say anything beforehand. But then again, it's not like you were expecting to get pulled into the guidance couselor's office at the end of the school day.

Yuna turns her head and almost immediately, her frown was replaced with a big smile, "There you are!" She says.

You try to mirror her smile, "Sorry. I got held up by Ms. Jung." You replied, letting your eyes wander to the bright pink hair tie that held Yuna's golden locks together.

"The guidance couselor? What for?" Yuna asked. You flinch at her question, you were hoping that she would whine about you being late and totally ignore how miserable you looked at the moment. You avoid your best friend’s gaze for a minute, staring blankly at the tall trees across the street. You let out a heavy sigh and flashed Yuna a lazy smile, followed by a shrug.

For most people, you were a mystery. Mainly because you never really talk to anyone except for a select few. But for Yuna, you were like an open book. You have been friends since elementary school, so of course you know everything there is to know about each other.

And when you’re being stubborn about hiding what you’re feeling, Yuna makes it her mission to bring it out of you.

Surprisingly enough, however, Yuna doesn’t say anything this time. As weird as it is, you appreciated it. You weren’t in the mood to talk about it anyway.

“Well, whatever then. You didn’t forget your promise, right?” Yuna asked, grinning as she looped her arm around yours. She started dragging you away from the school gates and the two of you were finally out into the streets. You feel the early evening breeze kissing your face as you treaded the pavement. Your tense shoulders finally relaxed as you felt Yuna resting her head on top of it.

You turn your head slightly, “Of course not. And even if I did, you’d make me remember.” You said. Yuna giggles, she knows you’re right. As the two of you walked towards the small ice cream parlor down the street, you realized that you were still holding the piece of paper that had your grades on it. No doubt that Yuna hasn’t seen it, but you still slipped it inside your school blazer. You could see your best friend staring at you from the corner of your eye but you ignore it, staring into the distance.

“Hey,” Yuna tugs on your sleeve, successfully getting your attention. “Are you cold? You can have your jacket back if you like.”

You shake your head, “I’m okay, Yu.” You replied weakly. You were close to the end of the street and across from the little stoplight there was Yuna’s favorite ice cream parlor, but all of a sudden, you felt yourself getting pulled back.

“We’re going somewhere else,” Yuna said. You can tell that she was starting to get bothered by your recent behavior. “I’m not really craving ice cream right now.”

You allow yourself to get dragged around the streets and you realized that your best friend was taking you to the underpopulated part of the town. This section of the city belonged to those who weren't doing very well in terms of money and therefore the quality of the houses, and pretty much everything else, were less than ideal.

Your family used to live here and while your childhood wasn't always pleasant, you still found ways to enjoy every moment of it. Mostly because there was this unnecessarily tall kid that never failed to make your day better just by being herself.

"Yu, why'd you take me here?" You asked as you looked around. It was quiet, but that doesn't mean that it was safe. The scariest things happen in this part of the city, you were lucky that you didn't experience any of them when you were younger. "Oh my God, did you get yourself involved with shady people now? I told you to stop hanging out with Ryujin! Like, I get that she's hot but she's bad news!"

Yuna sputters. "What?! No! Wait," She stops walking and looks at you like you grew three heads. "You think Ryujin is hot?" She asked.

You tilt your head to the side, "You don't?" You didn't get an answer. Instead, Yuna keeps walking forward, muttering something about how she didn't even know what she was trying to do at the moment. You jog up to her side and catch her hand with yours, locking your fingers together.

It's not that you hated this part of the city. The only things you really remember were the worst things. Like that time your puppy passed away, or those numerous times your parents fought, or that time when you didn't catch the string of your balloon fast enough to stop it from flying away to the sun.

The first stop was an old park that was squeezed the numerous run-down apartments in the neighborhood. The fountain at the center of the park had stopped working and vines covered most of it.

"I think... this was where I saw you cry for the first time," Yuna speaks. She staring at the fountain blankly. It was like she was reliving that exact moment on the spot. You don't remember that though. You cried a lot, and you don't exactly keep count. "You were upset because some dumb boy from our old elementary school called you names."

You chuckled lightly, "Oh, that. Didn't you get in trouble for punching him the next day?" You asked.

"It was worth it." Yuna replied with a cheeky grin.

Yuna came to your house late in the afternoon that day. There was a cut on her lip and she bled quite a lot. She tried to look tough but you didn't miss the single tear that squeezed out of her eye when your father patched up her lip. That day, you wondered why Yuna would go through such lengths for you, but that was before you realized that you would also punch a boy twice your size just for her.

“Didn’t we make this our unofficial hangout spot?” You asked as you stood on the fountain. Now you were able to see the top of Yuna’s head, for once. You remember a time where you could still look at each other eye-to-eye, but then she suddenly grew. And then she grew again. Maybe she will never stop growing!

“Yeah, but only because whenever you do that,” Yuna said and pointed at you with a smirk on her face. She suddenly put her hand on your arm and pushed you gently. You let out a yelp as you try to maintain your balance, but you failed and you feel yourself falling forward. You closed your eyes, ready to embrace the pain, only for it to never come. You slowly opened your eyes and of course, Yuna caught you in her arms. “I can do this.” She whispered with that mischievous glint in her eye.

You pushed Yuna away and hopped off of the fountain, “You suck. What if you hadn’t caught me in time?”

“That’s impossible. I’ll always catch you when you fall.” Yuna replied almost immediately, as if she predicted your previous statement. You adjusted your school blazer, making sure that not one spot was dirty, ripped, or folded. And then you reached inside, searching for a certain piece of paper. Your heart nearly dropped down to your stomach when you couldn’t feel the familiar material in one of the pockets.

You looked back at the fountain and of course it was right there for the whole world to see. You quickly snatched it, hoping to the gods that your best friend didn’t see it.

Your wishes ended up being ignored, however. “What’s that?” Yuna asked.

There was basically no point in hiding it. Even if Yuna doesn’t feel like asking you about your feelings now, there will always be that small voice in her mind that will keep reminding her that you were upset about something in this particular day, then she’ll bring it up and you will have no choice but to answer.

You slowly turn around, only to see your best friend eyeing the piece of paper that was trapped between your fingers. “This little thing? Uh, i-it’s nothing. Just... trash, haha.”

Yuna stares at you with an incredulous look on her face, and you sigh, finally giving in. You unfold the piece of paper and handed it to Yuna, your eyes glued to the ground to avoid any more humiliation.

You could see your best friend come closer to look at the paper and a second later, you hear her laughing. Your head snapped up at the sound of her beautiful laugh but you didn’t feel like laughing with her. Instead, you felt frustration building up inside you and you toss the paper towards Yuna, hitting her in the face.

You started walking away. “No! Wait! (Y/N), let’s talk!” You hear yell from behind. You ignore her calls and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t stop tears from falling down your face.

“(Y/N), please, don’t go.” You could still hear Yuna giggling and when you stop to face her again, her smile was replaced with a look of sadness mirroring yours. She immediately ran up to you and reached out her hand, attempting to touch your face and wipe your tears away. However, you don’t give her the chance to do it, you swat her hand away.

Yuna persists, reaching out again with both hands and of course, you were just as stubborn, so you pushed her hands away again. You sobbed as you dodged her attempt to comfort you, blinded by sorrow and anger.

“(Y/N), just let me hug you!” Yuna said, stepping closer. You started to push her away with more strength, but of course you had to get tired. You had to stop resisting Yuna and allow her to embrace you, and you did exactly that.

“I needed you... to say something nice but you just laughed.” You sobbed into her shoulder.

Yuna started caressing your back, “I’m sorry.”

“You can be so mean sometimes.” You added, hitting the taller girl’s hip weakly.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

After that, Yuna led you to an abandoned playground. You remember just how many... interesting things have happened in that exact playground. The one you vividly remember was the one time you, Yuna, and some other kids from the neighborhood played tag. Yuna scraped her knee when she fell while running away from the tagger and you had never seen her cry so hard. You ended up taking her to your house to clean the wound.

You thanked the gods for making your father a nurse because if he wasn’t, then Yuna would probably have a lot of scars at present. She wasn’t the most careful kid back then. Whenever you met up with her in the park or in this playground, she would always have a bruise or two because she either fell from the monkey bars, tripped on air, or got into a petty fight.

If the park was where you shed a lot of tears, then this playground was definitely where Yuna shed hers the most.

“So,” Yuna started as she watched you carefully. The two of you sat on the swings, and yes, this was one of the very many places where Yuna fell flat on her face. “Why are you so upset?” The tall girl asked.

The paper has now been discarded so you couldn't see shoved it up to Yuna's face, "Did you not see my grades? I am flunking my classes, Yu. All of it." You said.

"It's not the end of the world! You can do better next year," Yuna replied. "And you will do better! If there's one thing you can do, it's picking yourself up and pushing past your limits."

You groaned and buried your face in your hands, "Yuna, I love you, and your optimism, but can we be realistic here? I can't keep on going like this. You know that." You lamented.

You feel Yuna's gentle hands pry your hands away from your face. She was kneeling down in front you, wearing her signature goofy grin, and you felt your heart skip a bit when you saw that familiar wonder in her big bright eyes.

"Times like this is when we need to be unrealistically optimistic the most! We need to set up a goal or something! Like, if you manage to do this, then I'll reward you that!" Yuna exclaimed, holding your hands tightly.

You look away and pouted, "Well, clearly I can't do anything, so..." You sighed. You hated being a pessimist, but you really couldn't help it in this situation. Studying hasn't always been your forte, mainly because you thought that you didn't need to do it. You always managed to get decent scores on tests and quizzes without studying. It wasn't until this school year that your grades started getting lower and lower.

"I'm so stupid." You muttered.

Yuna makes a sound of disapproval, "Don't be like that! You know you're smart! You just have to get back on your feet." She said. She started listing out the things the two of you can do to bring your energy back and get you out of that sunken place you were stuck on, but you barely listen.

You thought it was cute how Yuna would gasp loudly when she thinks she thought of the best idea ever. Her eyes would just shine with excitement and she would start bouncing, then she would yell at you to get up and get going.

At that moment you just wanted to hug her tightly, but for some reason, you thought that it would be too much.

Random hugs were cute back in the day, but something about doing them now, in this time and age, makes it weird. And not the good kind. At least not for you.

When you were younger, you loved the feeling of Yuna's embrace. You still do, and you always will, but things a bit... different. You always find yourself wanting to stay close to her for at least a second more, and sometimes you just want to stay in her arms forever.

Her scent puts you at ease and the feeling of her warmth makes you think that nothing can go wrong ever again. It was a dangerous feeling, and you didn't know what to do about it.

"Wanna know how I did in my test?" Yuna asked, sitting back down on the swing beside yours. She grabbed her backpack and pulled out a paper from it with a wide grin on her face. You didn't know what you were expecting, but you definitely didn't predict that Yuna, of all people, would get a D.

Seeing how much your eyes widened, Yuna lets throws her head back laughing.

"Yuna! What the hell happened?!" You asked, hitting your best friend in the arm lightly.

The taller girl slipped the paper back inside her bag and let out a shaky breath. She anxiously fiddled with her hands, and it was almost as if she didn't want you to know. Yuna slowly lifts her eyes from the ground and onto you, "I... I wanted you to win that stupid challenge." She said.

You blinked, "So you can treat me instead? Yuna, you know that I'd buy you ice cream regardless, right?" You asked, chuckling.

"I know! But... I like seeing you smile when you win," Yuna averts her gaze to the ground again, biting her lip out of embarrassment. "God, what am I saying?" She muttered.

You shake your head, still laughing, "You really didn't have to purposely fail an important test just to see me smile, you know."

"But it's you." Yuna replied. You didn't know what to say to that. What does that even mean? As much as you wanted to ask, you were afraid that your best friend might combust at the spot, so you simply did not respond.

(Unbeknownst to you, Yuna was regretting letting those words slip out of her mouth.)

A sudden burst of wind suprises you, and you couldn't stop yourself from shivering. You let out a breath and suddenly you were being pulled to your feet by Yuna, who wore an unreadable expression on her face. "Come with me. There's one more place I want to visit before we go." She said in a soft voice.

Yuna led you to an unfamiliar street. It’s either you have never passed by this part of the area or it was just your bad memory acting up once again. Your hand once again finds Yuna’s, you hadn’t even realized that you were holding your hand until you felt your palm dampening. You look at Yuna and saw that the tips of her ears were reddening as seconds pass. Weird.

Eventually, you realized that Yuna just walked you through another road to your old middle school. It shut down weeks after your graduation and a new and better one was built near the road that connects the shabby and honorable parts of the city.

“It’s a little sad how they don’t even try to demolish these old places. They just leave them here to rot on its own,” You said as you and your best friend neared the building. There were graffiti all over the walls, they looked amazing. “At least it’ll rot with art on it.”

From the other end of the wall, you hear Yuna laughing, “Hey, (Y/N), take a look at this.” She said, waving you over. You stood beside Yuna and followed her gaze. You couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of ‘RYU was here’ written near the bottom of the wall in big dark blue letters. Yuna takes out her black marker and writes ‘Hey, Ryu :) - Yuna, (Y/N)’ right under it, snickering at the thought of her friend spotting it one day.

“So, did you take me here to commit a crime? I thought we weren’t supposed to do that until like, third year of college when we’re sad, miserable, and regretting ever being born?” You asked, following the taller girl to the back of the building. You can see the way Yuna’s cheeks hunched up, indicating that she was smiling and definitely up to something. You just hope that neither of your parents will pick you up at the police station by the end of the day.

Right. I still have to deal with their initial reactions to my petty excuse of a grade, you thought, sighing to yourself.

“We’re here,” Yuna says as she stops walking. In front of you was a small hill that you and some other students from the school used to hang around in. On the other side of the hill was just another part of the area, so there wasn’t anything special about it. But you do remember laying down with Yuna and falling asleep while staring at the clouds. You have never felt so at peace. “I kind of wrestled a lot with Ryujin here which led to a lot of detention and suspension warnings. I’m sure you remember that part!” Yuna explains while pulling you towards the hill.

You hum in agreement, “Ah, yeah. Ryujin went here too.” You said. The two of you haven’t always been on each other’s good side. Ryujin hated how you allegedly forced Yuna to do all these goody-two-shoes things and you absolutely despised how Ryujin would get in trouble and drag Yuna down to hell with her. And until today, both of you still feel the same towards one another, but you have do doubt that you’d jump to defend Ryujin with your life when someone opposes her. She would do the same too, but she doesn’t tell you that.

Yuna lays down on top of the hill, using her backpack as her pillow, and pulled you down to join her. Her sweet cinnamon scent filled your nose and you already felt your nerves relaxing as she puts her arm around you shoulders, pulling you close. She rested her chin on top of your head (where you couldn’t see her beet-red cheeks).

“Do you feel better?” Yuna asked. You nodded, although you were still unsure of what to feel at the moment. You feel your heart racing uncontrollably, almost as if it wants to break out of your ribcage and leap out of your chest. Whenever you were this close to Yuna, it always happened. You always kept yourself still, afraid of the stupid thing you might do if you even move an inch.

(Yuna feels the same.)

“You know, when we were little brats, we promised each other that we won’t keep any secrets from one another no matter how horrible they are,” Yuna says as she slowly caressed your hair, feeling each lock between her fingers. Your eyelids started getting heavy and all you could do was nod weakly while you fought against the temptation to fall asleep. “Well, there’s this one thing I’ve been hiding from you for a while.” Your best friend continues.

Your eyes snap open upon hearing her words, “How long?” You asked.

Yuna pauses and takes a deep breath, “A few years.” She admitted.

Truth to be told, you were more surprised than pissed. Yuna never shuts up once she finds something interesting to talk about, so for her to keep a secret from you, who can basically pass as her other half, is something that has never happened before, ever. You were excited to find out what your best friend could be hiding all this time. A few years is a long time after all.

A wide grin spreads across your face, “This better be good, Shin Yuna.” You said.

“That’s up to you,” The taller girl muttered. She swallows thickly before starting her little story. “Towards the end of our first year here, we were laying down on this same spot. You felt tired from all the stupid work and games we did during recess, so I told you that you can rest with me. While you slept, Ryujin suddenly came up and... teased me, but I told her to shut up because I didn’t want you to wake up... since you looked so beautiful when you’re at peace like you were back then.” She spoke softly and carefully. She has always been afraid to spill way too much emotion than needed, you knew that. But you also knew that this was probably something she has been wanting to get off her chest.

You looked up, your heart beats a little louder when you meet Yuna’s gentle eyes, “Is... that it?” You asked.

Yuna releases a silent laugh and continues, “No. While you were sleeping, I thought about... about how I just wanted time to stop at that moment so that I can keep you in my arms forever, away from all the bad things out there, from Ryujin, and everybody else. I thought that it wouldn’t be so bad if I get to... spend the rest of my days with you. It sounds ridiculous because we were like, I don’t know, twelve that time... but that’s how I felt. And that’s how I still feel.”

It was weird. The way you felt exactly the same as Yuna, the way you would occasionally get lost in her eyes, the way everything seems to slow down just for you and her. Everything was weird, and it felt surreal.

Your breath hitches when Yuna lifts her hand and pushes your hair back, her fingers grazing your skin just a little and leaving a trail of goosebumps. “Then... I kissed you. Right... here.” She taps your nose with her index finger and smiles nervously.

You take her hand in yours, intertwining your fingers, and leaned closer, “The only bad thing in all of this is that I missed that kiss since I was passed out.” You said as blood rushed to your cheeks at the realization of what you were trying to do.

Yuna pulls you closer and she embraces you tighter, now you could feel how her heart was racing as fast as yours were, “Can I do it again, then? Properly this time?” She asked.

Your eyes fluttered close and that was the only answer Yuna needed. She leans down and plants a sweet kiss on top of your nose. At the same time, butterflies invaded in your stomach, making you laugh all of a sudden and hide your face on the crook of Yuna’s neck.

Yuna laughs with you, she was just as embarrassed but hearing your laugh made everything seem a little better.

“Hey, Yu?” You lean back to look into your best friend’s eyes again. She raises her eyebrows, prompting you to continue. “Thank you.” You say.

Yuna smiles brightly, and it was like thousands of suns were shining down on Earth, “Anything for you.”

#itzy imagines #itzy scenarios #itzy reactions #itzy oneshots #yuna imagines #yuna reactions #yuna scenarios #yuna oneshots #girl group imagines #girl group reactions #girl group oneshots #girl group scenarios #itzy yuna #shin yuna #itzy blurbs #itzy fanfic

110 notes · View notes

vinniekpop · 4 years

Text

✨💫Masterlist💫✨

Hello! I’m Vinnie. Welcome to my Kpop Writing Tumblr. Focus is mostly on ATEEZ at the moment, but I’ll be writing for other groups in the near future. There is definitely heavy 18+ fic content beyond the break so be advised.

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SEONGJOONG:

Title: Take Me Home

Rating: Explicit

Side Relationships: Jung Wooyoung/Choi San, Song Mingi/Jeong Yunho, Choi Jongho/Kang Yeosang

Format: One-Shot

WC: 12,358 (Completed)

Summary:

Somebody, take me home I don't wanna be alone anymore That place of my dreams Somebody, take me there...

Tags: One Night Stands, Pining, Strangers to Lovers, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Light Bondage, Lingerie, Collars, Alcohol, Mild Breathplay, Semi-Public Sex (this tag is for woosan), Hongjoong Has Tattoos, Nipple Piercings (he has those too lmao)

AO3 Link

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Title: Charnel

Rating: Mature

Side Relationships: Kang Yeosang/Jung Wooyoung

Format: Chaptered

WC: 16,760 (WIP/Hiatus)

Summary: Surgical Intern Kim Hongjoong, for the first time in his life, is living on his own. At twenty-six, this might seem like something that's been long over due... and Hongjoong couldn't agree more. He's managed to find a place close to work, family, and friends. Where he can finally have his dog, even. So what if his landlord, the mysterious Park Seonghwa, has forbidden him from ever going into the basement? He has a whole house all to himself! It's only after he starts having vivid hallucinations and finds himself inexplicably drawn to the locked basement door that he begins to worry.

Tags: Mystery, Horror, Psychological Horror, Thriller, Alternate Universe - Medical, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Psychic Abilities, Ghosts, Haunting, Unsolved Murder, Possession (Demonic and/or Spiritual), Medical Jargon, Medical Procedures, Witchcraft, Paganism, Losing Time, Gaps In Someone's Memory, Discussions of Mental Illness/Anxiety, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, No Major Character Death, Background Relationship: Yeosang/Wooyoung, They're Medical Students Y'all, No dogs were harmed in the writing of this fic, Hongjoong & Yeosang's Gay Moms, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

A/N: This fic is currently on hiatus while I focus on other commitments but it is not abandoned ♥

AO3 LINK

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JJONGWOO:

Title: Phobos

Rating: Explicit

Side Relationships: Choi San/Kang Yeosang

Format: Chaptered

WC: 27,048

Summary: Jongho didn’t remember who he was before he died. Or even if he had died. He supposed he had to have died, or had to have been very near death, to agree to the pact that made him what he was. Part of the deal was forgetting everything about yourself, but what did it matter if you forgot? As long as you continued to live.

Tags: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Witch!Jongho, Banshee!Wooyoung, Demon!San, Demon!Yeosang, Major Character Death - Temporary, techincally wooyoung is a banshee so he's already dead but his death is depicted on screen in a flashback, Immortal!Jongho, Illusions, Fear, Jongho is a bit of a morally grey character, the witches in this verse live off of fear, Dark Magic, Horror, Body Horror (some injuries that heal magically in a fairly gruesome way and of course Wooyoung is a banshee), Psychological Horror, Water Wraith!Wooyoung (oh look he has two tags what's that about), Abusive Relationships, Angst, Blood and Injury, Memory Loss, Banshees, Witches, Immortality, Demons, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Motorcycle Accident/Crash, Drowning, Spiders, Someone Falls Off A Bridge, Thunder and Lightning, Birds, Lots Of Wandering Lost In The Woods, idk if thats a phobia/trigger for some people but better safe than sorry, and then at the end!! Fluff and Smut, Love Confessions, and finally a Happy Ending :)

AO3 Link

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Title: Scream

Rating: Mature

Side Relationships: None (maybe a few are implied if you squint but :D)

Format: Chaptered

WC: 24,500 (Completed)

Summary: The boy laughed and threw an arm around Jongho’s shoulders like they’d known each other for years.“I’m Jung Wooyoung and I just saved your life.”“He wasn’t going to kill me.” Jongho rolled his eyes.“It’s a metaphor.”“A metaphor for what?”“Our relationship.”“We don’t have a relationship. I don’t even know you.”“Well let’s open that door and then you can buy me lunch.”

---

When Jongho was fifteen years old, he’d wanted nothing more than to grow up to become a Pro Hero. Somewhere along the line he lost sight of that dream, and he lost sight of Jung Wooyoung, too.

---

I wanna live, I wanna be right now I wanna scream 'til my lungs give out Oh, this is what it means to be alive

Tags: Alternate Universe - Quirks (My Hero Academia), Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Superpowers, Genre Typical Violence, Blood and Injury, Set In The Same Universe As BNHA Just Takes Place in South Korea, Friends to Lovers to Strangers, We Used to Date But Then Things Got Complicated™, Angst with a Happy Ending, Minor Character Death, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Ethics & Politics of a Superhuman Worlds as like....a genre lmao, Forgiveness & Self-Discovery

AO3 Link

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OT8 Polyteez:

Grow Up, Go Faster is an Alternate Universe - Canon Divergent series that explores the polyamorous relationship between the eight members of ATEEZ as they navigate being in a non-standard relationship alongside being idols, as well as exploring the ins-&-outs of BDSM. The series also heavily features the platonic BDSM relationship between San and his sub, Yeonjun (TXT), and Yeonjun’s relationship with his own boyfriend & bandmate, Soobin.

Grow Up, Go Faster is set up in a series of one-shots, however they are not meant to be stand alone. While you may read them out of order if you wish, there are definitely plot points that carry over from previous works in the series, so you might be confused. ♥

Part One:

Title: Sugar, Sweat, Sex, Spice

Rating: Explicit

Relationship Focus: Choi Soobin/Choi Yeonjun, Choi Yeonjun/Jung Wooyoung, Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, Choi Yeonjun/Choi San, Choi Yeonjun/Jung Wooyoung/Choi San

Format: One-Shot

WC: 14,243 (Completed)

Summary: “I had something else in mind.” Wooyoung paused and then said, “I think it’s time you got a bit more acquainted with San.”

- - - - -

It was like an itch he couldn’t scratch. They never had enough time together, they always had to rush, and Soobin… he was too sweet. Yeonjun didn’t know how to tell the other boy that he needed him to be mean to him. Pull his hair, bite him, shove him around, push and pull him until he got Yeonjun exactly how he wanted him and then fuck him until he felt like he couldn’t breathe. He didn’t even know if Soobin… could do that. Soobin was kind. He went out of his way to make sure Yeonjun was comfortable. Soobin made love, he didn’t fuck. And what Yeonjun needed sometimes was to fuck. Sometimes it was the only thing he could think about, the only thing that seemed like it would chase away the tension screaming in his muscles and in his head. He wanted someone to make him forget his own name.

Tags: PWP, Porn with Feelings, Open Relationships, Polyamory, Kink Negotiation, Light Dom/sub Dynamics, Mild Angst, Rough Oral Sex, Threesome - M/M/M, Mild Impact Play, Mild Face Slapping, Overstimulation, Hair Pulling, Biting (but just one bite lol), Bruising, Marking Kink, Dry Orgasm, Subspace, Aftercare

AO3 LINK

Part Two:

Title: Nobody Loves You (More Than Me Baby)

Rating: Explicit

Relationship Focus: Jung Wooyoung/Park Seonghwa, Choi Yeonjun/Jung Wooyoung, Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, Choi Soobin/Choi Yeonjun, Choi Yeonjun/Jung Wooyoung/Choi San, Choi Yeonjun/Choi San

Format: One-Shot

WC: 13,267 (Completed)

Summary: Seonghwa never thought he’d have room enough in his heart for so many people. Sometimes it hurt, the way the members pushed and shoved at the walls of his chest, burrowing in and making homes for themselves. Putting down roots that Seonghwa knew he’d never be able to dig up.

He didn’t know how Wooyoung had any more room in his heart, but then Wooyoung had always had a bigger heart than most… and maybe Choi Yeonjun had been there long before any of them.

Wooyoung glanced up at Seonghwa nervously, “Maybe I was a little bit afraid that if I told anyone… you’d ask me to-to, I dunno, stop being friends with Yeonjun-”

“Wooyoung, I really can’t believe you would ever think such a thing.”

“Isn’t that normal, though? When you fall in love with someone else, your partner is supposed to want you to stop hanging around with them?”

“Normal?” Seonghwa repeated, the corner of his mouth twisting up in disbelief. “Wooyoung-ah, I don’t know where you’ve been the past few years but we’re pretty far from normal in this household.”

Tags: PWP, Porn with Feelings, Open Relationships, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Light Dom/sub Dynamics, Mild Angst, Unrequited Crush, Wooyoung's Old Feelings For Yeonjun Become A Problem, Hand Jobs, Possessive Sex, Slight Exhibitionism Kink, Control Kink, Intercrural Sex, Return Of The Biting Kink (Still Just One Bite), Marking Kink, Come Marking, Mild Degradation Kink, Seonghwa Talks To Wooyoung A Bit Mean But It's Done With Love (Also Wooyoung Likes It), Non-Romantic Dom/sub Dynamics

AO3 LINK

Part Three:

Title: I’m On My Knees, Freeze..

Rating: Explicit

Relationship Focus: Choi Yeonjun/Choi San, Choi Yeonjun/Jung Wooyoung, Choi Soobin/Choi Yeonjun, Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, Choi Yeonjun/Jung Wooyoung/Choi San

Format: One-Shot

WC: 10,637 (Completed)

Summary: “Yeonjun-ah,” San said, his voice sounded graveled and rough. “Do you want to try something new tonight? Could you handle that?”

Yeonjun looked up and met San’s steady gaze.

“Yeah, sure. Wh-what did you have in mind?”

San licked his lips, his fingers flexing around Yeonjun’s wrists. “What if I tied you up?”

And, oh, Yeonjun really couldn’t be blamed for the full-body shudder he gave at that. He nodded, his mouth gone so dry he could hardly speak.

“Yes?” San confirmed, “You like the sound of that?”

Tags: PWP, Porn with Feelings, Open Relationships, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Platonic BDSM, Light Dom/sub Dynamics, Light Bondage, Rope Bondage, Rough Oral Sex, Mild Exhibitionism Kink, Biting (More Than One Bite This Time), Mild Degradation Kink, Non-Romantic Dom/sub Dynamics, Hair Pulling, Consent & Boundaries Talks, Kink Negotiation, Mild Safeword Usage, Bruising, Marking Kink, Mild Angst, But San Is A Sweetheart So Like He TAKES CARE OF THAT REAL QUICK

AO3 LINK

Part Four:

Title: breathe out and exhale like

Rating: Explicit

Relationship Focus: Choi Soobin/Choi Yeonjun, Choi Yeonjun/Choi San

Format: One-Shot

WC: 11,683 (Completed)

Summary: “Do you think I could get away with kissing you right now?” Yeonjun whispered, chin tilted up so that their lips just barely brushed together. “God, I wanna kiss you...”

Tags: PWP, Porn with Feelings, Open Relationships, Kink Exploration, Light Dom/sub, Oral Sex, Rimming, Biting, Marking, Modesty Kink, But Like ??? Not That, Inspired By The Hip Cutouts on Yeonjun's Jeans in the Blue Hour MV, This is also ridiculouly sweet like ??? they're in love, Platonic BDSM, Non-Romantic Dom/sub Dynamics, Semi-Public Sex, Canon Compliant, Idolverse, Established Relationship, just a dash of Domestic Fluff, Yeonjun's Slightly Racy Yet Work Appropriate Undergarments

AO3 Link

Part Five:

Title: You Make My Heart Shake (Bend and Break)

Rating: Explicit

Relationship Focus: Choi San/Kang Yeosang, Choi San/Jeong Yunho, Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, Choi San/Jung Wooyoung/Kang Yeosang

Format: One-Shot

WC: 17,360 (Completed)

Summary: Challenges weren’t something that intimidated him. Learning new things came second nature to him. Choi San didn’t scare easily. He and Yeosang were barreling towards the conclusion of their little game—a game more serious than they were pretending it was.

That was the thing about these scenes that they did, about practicing BDSM in general; everything about it made a person feel wickedly good in a way they couldn’t quite understand. Dark parts of the brain firing off signal after signal until everything seemed a bit bright, a bit fuzzy, like they were drunk.

A Dominant’s job was to remain in control of the situation and keep everyone safe, but right now San felt tempted to push limits, to lose control of himself. For just a moment, he felt like he needed an adult. Another Dom. Someone more adult and more Dom than him to step in and take the control away from him.

Tags: PWP, Porn with Feelings, Porn With Plot, TOO MUCH PLOT WHAT HAPPENED HERE, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Light Dom/sub Dynamics, Mild Impact Play, Degradation Kink, Face Slapping, Safeword Use, Cock Warming, Frottage, Aftercare, Submission as a Form of Aftercare, Light Angst, Dom Drop, Subdrop, Kink Negotiation, Lots of Talk About Consent, Self-Esteem Issues, Mild Anxiety Attack, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, These Tags Sound Depressing I'm Sorry There Are Some Really Sweet Parts And Some Really Sad Parts, Gratuitous Haikyuu Reference, Lots of Cute Polyteez Moments In This One, Yeonjun and Changbin Make A Cameo, Reference to Yeonbin but They're Not Actually In This One, This Entire Fic Got Away From Me I'm So Sorry

AO3 LINK

Part Six:

Title: my eyes on you

Rating: Explicit

Relationship Focus: Kim Hongjoong/Song Mingi, Choi San/Kim Hongjoong, Jeong Yunho/Song Mingi, Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa, Park Seonghwa/Song Mingi, Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, Jung Wooyoung/Song Mingi, Choi San/Song Mingi, Choi San/Jung Wooyoung/Song Mingi, ATEEZ - OT8

Format: Chaptered

WC: 25,208 (WIP)

Summary: Mingi would imagine the way San would swear sometimes, caught off guard by the way Hongjoong would fight back. The way Hongjoong would laugh and it sounded just one step shy of unhinged as Hongjoong would swear right back. The scratches curving over San’s shoulder that spoke of something a bit more deadly than simple passion. What if Mingi wanted that? He thought he wanted that. The first time he asked Hongjoong for that, Hongjoong told him no.

Tags: PWP, Porn with Feelings, Polyamory, Kink Exploration, Kink Negotiation, Light Dom/sub, between minjoong, mentions of Heavy BDSM, between sanjoong, Switch!Mingi, Mingi is subbing physically but not mentally y'all, Sex Toys, Dildos, Cock Cages, Spreader Bars, Impact Play (Mentioned/Heard Off Screen), Voyeurism, Sadomasochism, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Coming Untouched, Mutual Masturbation, Threesome - M/M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Crying During Sex, Control Kink, Authority Kink, Hongjoong Just Really Likes It When People Listen To Him Lol, Oral Sex, Rimming, Biting, Marking, Prostate Milking, Mild Angst, Introspective Relationship Pondering, Polyamory Negotiations, Polyamory Dynamics, Hotel Sex, Sub Drop, Overstimulation, Edging, Light Bondage, Panic Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Mental Health Issues, Mingi's Hiatus :(, Angst and Feels, the tags got depressing after the smutty ones i'm so sorry lmao, chapter three will be back to our regularly schedules shenanigans

AO3 Link

Part Seven:

Title: Falling Up

Rating: Explicit

Relationship Focus: Choi Yeonjun/Jung Wooyoung, Jung Wooyoung/Kang Yeosang, Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, Choi San/Choi YeonjunChoi, Soobin/Choi Yeonjun, Choi Yeonjun/Jung Wooyoung/Choi San, Choi Yeonjun/Choi Soobin/Jung Wooyoung/Choi San, ATEEZ - OT8

Format: Chaptered

WC: 23,295 (WIP)

Summary: When Wooyoung first started distancing himself, it hurt.And it was strange that it hurt, because Yeonjun almost felt like he had been dumped. Maybe it was because Yeonjun had never been dumped before that it hurt so much. Yeonjun had always been the one to call it quits on things; when he got bored, when things lost their spark, when it wasn’t fun anymore. Nothing had ever been too serious, and then there had been Soobin, so it hadn’t mattered. Now it mattered.

Tags: Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Poly ATEEZ OT8, POV Multiple, Porn with Feelings, Porn With Plot, Established Relationship, Open Relationships, Kink Negotiation, Platonic BDSM, Platonic Sex, Non-Romantic Dom/sub Dynamics, Light Dom/sub, A Little Bit of Dom Yeosang This Time :), Submission as a coping mechanism, Oral Sex, Edging, Edgeplay, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Mild Degradation, Like SO MILD really it's still praise lol, Overstimulation, Hand Jobs, Yeosang & Wooyoung Best Friends in Love (TRADEMARK), Aftercare, Mild Angst, Unrequited Crush, Feelings Realization, Idolverse, Canon Compliant, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Sexting, Sex Tapes, Chapter 2 is Yeonbin Centric feat Woosan, Biting, Marking, Rimming, technically a Foursome - M/M/M/M, but like is it really

AO3 Link

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A series of fics set within the same canonverse a/b/o setting. All fics are within the same universe, though stand alone, so you don’t necessarily need to read every fic to understand each one.

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ATEEZ:

Title: Write your name, I can do the same

Rating: Explicit

Relationship Focus: Jung Wooyoung/Lee Felix (Stray Kids), Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, ATEEZ - OT8, Stray Kids - OT8

Format: One-Shot

WC: 11,118 (Completed)

Summary: Wooyoung, like most omegas, was a social creature by nature. Getting to work with other idols, and in this case other packs, was a welcome opportunity for him to stretch his social butterfly wings. Being presented with a chance to finally get to know them one-on-one was almost enough to have Wooyoung vibrating out of his own skin. Especially Felix.

Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Pack Dynamics, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Scent Marking, Mating Bites, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Open Relationships, Alternate Universe - Canon Compliant, Omega/Omega Relationships, Omega!Wooyoung, Omega!Felix, Attempted Sexual Assault, Hurt/Comfort, Wooyoung struggles with omega attraction

AO3 Link

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STRAY KIDS:

Title: The distance grew up like the night

Rating: Explicit

Relationship Focus: Stray Kids - OT8

Format: Chaptered

WC: 57,223 (WIP)

Summary: Bambam was shaking, pressed into Chan’s side like he could physically merge them into one, single person, press them together on an atomic level so nothing could separate them.None of that stopped Jaebeom’s next words from falling like stones. “You won’t be debuting with us, Chan-ah.”

---

Chan held his tongue, unsure of what to say to the boys in front of him, the boys he debuted with. The kids who meant the world to him, meant everything to him. He finally had his group, members he loved more than anyone, would do anything for. But here, faced with their expectant looks, Chan felt nothing short of unqualified. He felt an old panic claw at his throat, the hurt of a pack leaving him behind, aching like a wound that refused to heal. He wasn't ready. He turned away, stinging, ashamed and afraid.

Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Compliant, Slow Burn, Unrequited Love, Polyamorous Pack, Angst, Polyamory Negotiations, Growing Up, Childhood Friends, Heartbreak, Found Family, Developing Relationship, Alpha Bang Chan, Omega Kunpimook Bhuwakul | BamBam, Chan Grows Up With BamBam & Then Watches Him Move On Without Him, Stray Kids Make Bang Chan Stay, Pre-Debut to Present SKZ from Chan’s Perspective, Our First Stray Kid in Chapter Four, Alpha Seo Changbin , Read Authors Notes For Additional Warnings

AO3 Link

Title: I’ve known you so long (and maybe too well)

Rating: Explicit

Relationship Focus: Bang Chan/Han Jisung (Side: Lee Minho | Lee Know/Han Jisung, Stray Kids - OT8)

Format: One-Shot

WC: 15,294 (Completed)

Summary: Jisung couldn’t get enough, would never be able to get enough. He kissed Chan once, twice more because the taste of his lips was so addictive, like the warm, burning feeling he got in his chest when he breathed too deep next to a bonfire. Crisp, warm, rich, searing and a little dangerous but full of all the comforts of a cool fall evening filled with nostalgia and home. “Satisfied?” Chan asked, dragging Jisung’s head back as the omega stared up at him with glassy eyes.

---

Maybe for Chan and Jisung, falling in love wasn’t an unexpected fireworks display going off on the banks of the Han River, it was more like the growth of a tree. Like the cherry trees that grew along the banks. They grew for years before they blossomed for the first time. Maybe they were cherry blossoms. But Jisung forgot that cherry blossoms only bloom for a short time. And Lee Minho was fireworks on the banks of the Han River, bursting into life and lighting up the night sky unexpectedly, taking your breath away, rattling your chest, dazzling your eyes. It turned out the dramas hadn’t been wrong after all, and falling in love like fireworks wasn’t something that was for other people, it was for Han Jisung, too.

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Compliant, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Pack Dynamics, Scent Marking, Mating Bites, Polyamory, Pining, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Polyamorous Pack, Established Relationship, Complicated Relationships, Kink Exploration, Boot Worship, Light Dom/sub, Oral Sex, Light Subspace/Subdrop, Cock Stepping, References to Knotting, Alpha Bang Chan, Omega Han Jisung | Han, Alpha Lee Minho | Lee Know

AO3 Link

60 notes · View notes

cheshiresense · 4 years

Note

Ok so Im going to take this chance and go wild: GiottoxMukuro + Bad Vongola AU

UM. So, I sort of just sat on this last one cuz what even lmao. I checked AO3 and omg this ship exists??? but there’s like just two fics under it. But alright, here’s my stab at this very random pairing, it doesn’t even quite get all the way to a pairing, but I gave them both page time and at least you gave me something new to try XD Sorry it’s so late.

ALSO YAY I FINISHED ALL TEN

1. Ok so! First thing’s first - how do I stick these two into the same time period? Either full AU or time travel/reincarnation fuckery. Let’s go with reincarnation. Sort of. Where Neo Primo is literally Neo Primo ;)

Tsuna is dead. They’re in the future arc, he’s being forced to take the boss trial, and Hibari suffocates him just a little too long. So Tsuna dies at the feet of his ancestors, and Giotto is forced to witness the death of a fourteen-year-old boy who had never asked for any of this bloodshed but had also never backed down from it, never folded, even under the pressure of so many Vongola bosses. And Giotto is angry. He has spent centuries watching his beloved Vongola become mired in blood and sin, built on an empire of corpses and suffering. He is so sick of it, of not being able to do anything about it, but his latest descendant is dead, and his body is empty of a soul, and in that moment, more than anything else, all Giotto wants is a chance to act, to be something other than helpless, to fix even just a little of what his bloodline has broken.

Will and Flames and desperation are powerful things when combined.

Next thing Giotto knows, he’s opening his eyes to a cold-looking training room, the remains of a cage that killed a fourteen-year-old boy splintering around him, and it barely takes a thought for his Flames to surge up and out and slam the Cloud - Hibari Kyouya - into the far wall with a viciousness Giotto had spent the majority of his first life keeping under wraps. For a split second, he almost kills the Cloud for his gall. A Guardian who could murder his own Sky - however well-intentioned or unknowingly - is no Guardian at all, but then, out of all of the Tenth Generation, as far as Giotto can tell, not a single one of them had had a real bond with Tsuna. The one who’d come closest had been the Mist, but after ten years and the weight of Vongola’s sins on his shoulders, even that connection had dissolved.

If Giotto is honest, the person Tsuna had become ten years later under the crushing pressure of that Sun Arcobaleno and the Vongola had been near unrecognizable compared to the boy Giotto had so admired. But that man is dead, at least for now, dragged under by too many enemies and too many bad decisions, and all that’s left is this younger version, dragged to the future against his will and forced to fight a war of someone else’s making.

Not even that anymore obviously, and all that’s left is Giotto, a bloody legacy to his name and too many regrets to pay for. All he can do is live out Tsuna’s life now and hopefully undo some of the damage Vongola has wrought. Tsuna wouldn’t want him killing this Cloud though, and so Giotto lets him go in the end. Hibari gets to his feet, something bloodthirsty and thrilled gleaming in his eyes, completely ignorant of the fact that he’d killed his Sky, and all Giotto can think as he recalls the way Tsuna had always had to bribe this man for him to even consider helping is how Alaude must be rolling in his grave.

“I’m done,” He says instead, slicing a cool look around the room, and then he walks out, back to his room. Nobody stops him, but Giotto wouldn’t have stopped him either, with the shadow of his Flames licking across the concrete floor.

2. Giotto does his duty. Ten years in the future is far too late to really change anything significant, so the faster he takes care of business here, the sooner they can all go home. In the meantime, it amuses him - in a funny world-burning sort of way - how none of Tsuna’s friends seems to realize anything is wrong, that the boy they profess their loyalty to is gone, and his body has been usurped by an interloper. Giotto considers himself a decent enough actor, but for a bunch of Flame-actives with Vongola rings on their fingers and Guardian titles to their names, they’re a rather oblivious lot.

(All of Tsuna’s past and present and future sits in his memories now though, and Giotto can’t say he’s terribly surprised. The person these children wanted to follow was never actually the boy Tsuna had been, not entirely. They pay attention to the parts of him that they like, and ignore the rest like they don’t exist. It infuriates Giotto, because Tsuna deserved better, but Tsuna is dead, and even if Giotto has every intention of at the very least demoting them from their Guardian positions once they’re finished here, he cannot truly harm these children Tsuna had called friends.)

So he does his duty, fights the battles people want him to fight, and smiles blandly back in the face of Reborn’s suspicious glances. That hitman at least can sense something is off, if only because his student no longer cringes or screams, but no one save the Vongola bosses knows the details of what happens in the Vongola Trial, and it’s easy enough to balance Reborn’s misgivings with that.

It’s fun though, messing with the pseudo-baby. The last time Reborn tried to shoot him awake in the morning, Giotto had set the entire room on fire and ended up singeing off Reborn’s sideburns. The resulting training session had been grueling, but it had been worth finally getting back at the man first responsible for more or less browbeating Tsuna into obedience.

Pettiness aside, Giotto does put effort into training. Tsuna’s body is in decent shape, but it could be even better, so Giotto does his best to make it so. The weapons of the future are something of a marvel too, and he smiles indulgently at the full-grown wing-adorned flame-pelted Leone di Cieli that gracefully leaps out to greet him, but in the privacy of his rooms, he lets his Flames swirl free and summons the phoenix that had been his constant companion in his first life, the soul of his Flames, his will made sentient.

“Natsu,” He names the lion, after Tsuna, and welcomes Persephone home as she does a sweep of his bedroom before landing light and delicate on his shoulder, the way she’d always done in battle.

The looks on everyone’s faces when they see her with him is enough to make Giotto smile for the next week.

3. It becomes clear soon enough that they’re going to need all hands on deck for the final confrontation against Millefiore, but even before that, Giotto begins asking some pointed questions that Tsuna had thought but hadn’t quite been brave enough to ask.

“When are we getting my Mist out of Vendicare?” He enquires one night over dinner, and smiles pleasantly as everyone freezes. “We require all the aid we can get, yes? And Mukuro has always been strong.”

“Jyuudaime!” Hayato is the first to burst out, chair skidding back with how emphatically he stands up. “We don’t need that bastard!” Giotto looks at him, not a twitch in his expression, impenetrable as ice even as he keeps his features soft, and Hayato falters. “Or- Or even if we do, he can just possess Dokuro! He can’t be trusted if we let him out!”

Giotto stirs more sugar into his coffee - rich and sweet, gave G a minor aneurysm every time he saw it - just the way he likes it. “So we make him serve, and offer nothing in return?”

Giotto waits out the confused spluttering around him. Reborn is drilling holes into the side of his head but he pays the baby no mind.

“He has been imprisoned for ten years,” Giotto continues in mild tones. “And has remained loyal all this time, si?” He glances briefly at Chrome, the younger one, who stares back, meek and mute. She is loyal to Mukuro above all others, and it would’ve been so very easy for him to influence her into betraying Vongola - betraying Tsuna - anytime.

That he hadn’t, in all this time, is… something. It’s something. The lingering threads of a frayed potential bond. The stubborn refusal to give up something he’d once perhaps considered his. A promise once given - keep my people safe and you will have my allegiance - and never broken, not by Mukuro.

People have often remarked on how similar the First and Tenth Generations are. Personally, Giotto has never seen two sets of people so different.

“I wish to free him,” He says at last, over the voices of those trying to convince him otherwise. “Loyalty deserves loyalty returned. Whatever else he used to be, he has bled in my service for ten years. Surely that is enough to justify his release?”

It is not a question, and everyone knows it. Reborn is all but glaring now. He doesn’t like this new Tsuna who does not cower even in the face of his bullets.

Giotto is spiteful enough to enjoy every moment of it.

It is Takeshi who relents first. “Okay,” He says, all easy agreement and assessing eyes, and maybe this one at least is not so far removed from Ugetsu’s blood after all. “But how are we gonna do that? Vendicare’s hard to break into, right?”

Hayato - the only mafia-raised of the lot - looks positively horrified. “It’s not hard, Baseball Freak, it’s impossible!”

“But Mukuro already broke out twice, didn’t he?”

“Yes,” Giotto interjects, smiling at Takeshi, who preens a little under the attention and is in some ways possibly the most insane of them all. Giotto does have a fondness for those who consider laws as guidelines at best. “So, I suppose we need a Mist.” He takes a gulp of his coffee. “The Varia has a new one these days, don’t they?”

Three conferences, five one-sided shouting matches, and a hefty sum of money transferred over to the Varia accounts later, Giotto has secured Xanxus’ partly baffled, mostly irritated agreement for Fran’s services. Fran turns out to be a rather… precocious young man, but he has Mist Flames and skills that almost rival Mukuro’s, and Giotto is relatively content to leave the breakout to him.

His confidence is not misplaced. Days and half a dozen more battles later, with Byakuran grandstanding across from him, Giotto’s entire ill-fitted, misfit Family is gathered, and the First Generation appears at Giotto’s silent command to unseal the Vongola rings.

(All of them know what he is, the soul peering out from behind Tsuna’s eyes. But in this one moment, not even Daemon gives him away, and Giotto is free to finally unleash his carefully controlled wrath on the Family that had decimated his.)

Millefiore doesn’t stand a chance.

4. “You are not Sawada Tsunayoshi,” Mukuro - the older one - says in deceptively light tones as he joins Giotto on the balcony. It’s late, the night before they would all finally return to the past, and the two of them are probably the only ones still awake.

“No,” Giotto confirms, because there’s no hiding it from this man. “I’m afraid Sawada Tsunayoshi perished in Kyouya’s Box Weapon when he and Reborn attempted to force a Vongola Trial.”

Mukuro, staring out at the sprawling woods before them, does not visibly react, does not even move. For a moment, it doesn’t even seem like he’s breathing, and that’s what gives him away.

Giotto does not say he is sorry. He is, for this, and for too many other things to list, but whatever connection had formed between Tsuna and his Mist had been lost a long time ago, and sorry only sounds trite in the face of such a travesty. The only reason Mukuro had never drifted away, Giotto suspects, was because the Mist had refused to let go. Mukuro himself would never admit it, perhaps never even acknowledge it to himself, but if there was one thing Giotto had always envied Tsuna for, it was his ability to earn a Mist’s devotion so completely.

(And so it had hurt all the more to watch the years go by as Tsuna allowed Vongola to convince him to leave Mukuro in Vendicare. Hurt most of all to realize, one day, that Tsuna no longer cared so long as Mukuro continued reporting in and doing as he was told.)

“What will you do with my younger self?” Mukuro eventually asks, carefully void of every emotion save for the thinnest veneer of detached interest.

“Free him,” Giotto replies promptly, seeing no need for word games here. Reborn had tried to interrogate him about his Vongola Trial, and Giotto had given him every answer but a straight one. It had been highly entertaining. “If he wishes, he will have a place in my Famiglia. If he does not, then I will ensure he is able to start a new life elsewhere with his people, without Vongola dogging their every step.” He pauses, absently considering his hands, more solid than they’ve been in four hundred years. “Even Tsunayoshi’s fear of Reborn was not enough to stop him from asking repeatedly after you. This is the least I can do for your younger self when Tsunayoshi worried about him so often.”

Mukuro scoffs, a hollow puff of air that fades to nothing. “Had he a few more years in him, you would’ve had nothing to concern yourself with.”

Giotto inclines his head in acknowledgement but says nothing more. There is probably no one who knew Tsuna - who fought him and lost to him and understood him - more than Mukuro. The Mist doesn’t need Giotto expounding on the rise and fall of one of the brightest and most short-lived Skies the world would ever see.

“You will not tell the others about me?” Giotto asks instead, more curious than any kind of anxious about it.

Mukuro tips a mocking facsimile of a smile in his direction, looking him straight-on for the first time since his arrival. “What business is it of mine, if Vongola wishes to destroy itself?”

Giotto half-smiles, half-grimaces. He supposes this is hardly a surprise either; it was never Vongola that Mukuro swore unspoken fealty to.

So instead, he reaches out, gently catching one of Mukuro’s hands in his own and knowing he can only because Mukuro allows it. Mismatched eyes watch him like a hawk, a derisive curl on his lips that freezes when Giotto presses the flickering heat of a piece of Sky Flame into his palm.

Then he steps back, once, twice, enough room to sketch an esoteric bow, too formal for this age but recognizable enough here and now if Mukuro’s sharp intake of breath is anything to go by.

Gratitude. Apology. And a dissolution of debt and duty between Guardian and Sky.

If Mukuro so wishes, even after Giotto is gone, the shard of Sky will ensure a clean break from Vongola, and not even Sawada Tsunayoshi will be able to track his former Guardian down. It is all Giotto can offer him.

He straightens, glancing at the piece of Sky now settled into the shimmering form of a phoenix feather. A new life, if Mukuro wants it.

He meets the Mist’s gaze. Mukuro is the first to look away, fingers curling around the feather, eyes on the horizon, and he doesn’t speak again.

Giotto nods, takes his leave, and he does not see the Mist again, not this version at least. Once time straightens itself out, the adult Tsuna of this universe will return, and while Millefiore is no longer a threat, Vongola - and its Decimo - will still be the same stagnant bloodstained mess.

There is nothing Giotto can do about that, but at the back of his mind, he wonders if it wouldn’t have been better after all to have let Millefiore wipe Vongola out.

5. Later, much later, after a jailbreak and Daemon and a broken curse, Giotto and his Guardians - still no bonds, but he can’t seem to find a good time to get rid of them, so maybe instead of that, he can educate them to be better - sit down for a Family dinner at the most upscale banquet hall Namimori has to offer, with the Ninth and his men, the CEDEF and even Varia. They’re in public so everyone has their law-abiding citizen face on, but (a redo of) the Inheritance Ceremony is imminent, and Timoteo smiles, sly and pleased that all the pieces have finally fallen into place. He waves Giotto into the seat on his immediate right and doesn’t even question how very little Giotto resembles Tsuna these days, ascribing the changes to Reborn’s training and recent battles and growing up, and looking no further than that.

The food is good, Italian but cooked by the best chefs on Vongola payroll. Giotto stares Kyouya into grudging silence over the fare, and then he focuses on chatting amicably with Timoteo, weaving smooth flattery into casual but attentive conversation the way he’d learned to do a lifetime ago.

Giotto watched Timoteo grow up. There is no skeleton in his closet that Giotto did not witness him stashing away. But he is old and past his prime and he will soon learn that his successor is not as easy to control as he’d hoped, as he thinks, so Giotto can smile back now and give him his momentary triumph, smile and sip his wine and not let his eyes linger on every bite of food Timoteo takes.

During a lull in the conversation, he turns and catches Mukuro’s eye. His Mist is seated beside his female counterpart, all the way at the end of the line, farthest from his Sky to any outsider’s eye. But Mukuro smirks back from behind his cloth napkin, and as the Nono’s dessert is carried in, the faint twist of Mist Flames - unnoticed by all except two - darts into the panna cotta.

Timoteo eats his fill, compliments the chef, beams at Giotto’s gently filial fussing again like the kindly grandfather he excels at pretending to be, and nobody thinks to question how masterfully Giotto draws all attention to himself and his rowdier Guardians, never letting the generally jovial mood falter, his Sky Flames a subtle pulsing encouragement beneath it all to distract them from the knife at their backs.

The whole affair is a success. At the very least, nobody threw any food, no fights broke out, and no one lost their tempers. It almost feels like a miracle.

They part ways in groups, and to their credit, Hayato and Kyouya only try to kill each other after the elder Vongola party is gone. It doesn’t take long for Ryouhei to join in, and at a glance from Mukuro, Chrome scoops Lambo up and picks up her pace to catch up to a laughing Takeshi.

Mukuro falls into step beside Giotto. Giotto had asked, after the Arcobaleno business was finally over, if Mukuro would stay. Mukuro had asked what Giotto would offer if he did.

“A place in my Family, for you and yours,” Giotto had sworn. “And a hand in toppling the Vongola Empire once and for all.”

Mukuro had smiled, ten years’ worth of another world’s memories behind it, and six lives’ worth of suffering driving his answer.

“Tsunayoshi would never have chosen this method,” Mukuro says now, voice pitched low but as idly as if he were commenting on the weather.

Giotto smiles, grim and long past the point of any return.

Tsuna was his favourite. He reminded Giotto of the man he used to be, when Vongola was still a goal wrapped in optimism and determination, before they’d become embroiled in the mafia and Giotto had spent the next four hundred years after his death watching his life’s work build itself a throne of corpses.

Tsuna was his favourite, but he was also an ideal Giotto won’t ever be again, and cannot be if he truly wants to see this iteration of Vongola dead in his second lifetime. Tsuna would’ve been eaten alive by Vongola - Giotto had seen an entire future’s worth of proof of that.

“I am not Tsunayoshi,” Giotto says, and it is another regret he will have to carry, but their world is neither kind nor fair, and Tsuna as he was would never have survived it.

Mukuro studies him, a thoughtful tilt to his head, and something like fascination glitters in his eyes. “No, you are not,” He agrees. “But that isn’t necessarily a bad thing.”

Giotto glances at him, then ahead, at children who had almost killed and been almost killed mere days ago, now roughhousing amongst themselves. “The world could do with more Tsunayoshis.”

“The world needs more of you,” Mukuro retorts just as swiftly, a sardonic sort of amusement in his smirk. “In that other future, Tsunayoshi proved beyond a doubt that everything he promised, he couldn’t keep, didn’t he? And yet here you are, Vongola Primo, poisoning your enemies over dinner, and just yesterday you had me hide you while you met with Gesso and Simon and Giglio Nero in private. You certainly don’t waste any time.” His smirk widens. “If Vongola isn’t careful, you’ll turn half of Europe against the older generation before they realize it.”

Giotto hums and doesn’t deny any of it. “You would be willing to aid me though?”

Mukuro arches an eyebrow, and his right eye flickers briefly with Mist Flames. “Have I not been doing so already?”

Giotto nods. “Yes, and I am grateful. But lending a hand now is not the same as devoting at least the next ten years of your life to a goal most would consider impossible. And I am not Tsunayoshi.”

Mukuro’s steps slow, then stop entirely. Giotto blinks and halts as well, half-turning.

“Does that matter so much to you?” Mukuro asks, peering at him with surprisingly genuine puzzlement. “Do you think it matters so much to me? That you are not Tsunayoshi?”

Giotto half-shrugs, and Mukuro shakes his head. “Tsunayoshi had a heart that I will never fully understand,” He says, blunt in a way he almost never is. “He was naive and foolish, hopeful and soft, and it made him as weak as it made him strong. I could trust him to never turn on Chrome or Ken or Chikusa, even if they or I tested his tolerance, but by that same logic, I could never have trusted him to stand firm against Vongola’s ideals, no matter what he proclaimed. And I was right, wasn’t I? In the end, Vongola destroyed him, and he became one of them.”

He pauses, his gaze sliding away, hands coming together to twist one of the rings on his fingers. Then he looks back at Giotto, and his next smirk is equal parts challenge and approval. “You though. You have witnessed the results of letting your previous Mist Guardian walk free, and spent years watching your descendants commit atrocities in the name of strengthening your organization. If I were to promise you my loyalty, and then betray you sometime down the road, you would slit my throat yourself. But at the same time, at least I know - you are both ruthless enough and determined enough to see your objectives through to the end, with a conviction that’s centuries in the making. The current Vongola would have to kill you to stop you.” His right eye flares indigo again. “So I suppose that is where I come in.”

Up ahead, the others turn a corner, still bickering. Giotto thinks Takeshi has probably noticed that he and Mukuro have fallen behind, and of course Chrome knows, but neither of them stops to wait either.

Mukuro steps back, once, twice, and Giotto’s eyes widen as the Mist lifts a hand to brush over the earring he hasn’t stopped wearing since he got it. And then… well.

The Mukuro from the future must’ve known how because this Mukuro doesn’t even look awkward as he drops to one knee and bows his head, just a dip, slow enough to look deliberate, proud enough to meet Giotto’s gaze again afterwards.

“You asked for ten years, Neo Primo,” Mukuro announces. “So, very well, I will pledge you ten years of my life, for you to use as you see fit, so long as you keep your word. We can revisit this in a decade, but for the next ten years, I will make you untouchable to your enemies and sow discord amongst them in your name.” He smiles and it’s a mad and bloodthirsty thing, the same furious hateful beast he’d aimed at Daemon Spade when he’d sought to rip Chrome from Mukuro’s side. “And should the worst come to pass and I go the way of my predecessor, may my life be forfeit at your hands.”

He reaches up, catches Giotto’s hand in his own, and his red eye glows as orange and indigo burst into existence between their fingers, a blaze of light under the night sky as they twine together, fierce and unyielding and true.

They both gasp from the surge of power that rushes through them as the Guardian bond snaps into place, the first one Giotto will ever have in this body, the first one in over four hundred years, a core of Flame that promises a home, something Daemon had never been able to give him, and Giotto doesn’t even think before he’s yanking Mukuro to his feet and reeling him close.

Tsuna had been short for his age so Giotto isn’t quite eye-level with his new Mist, but it hardly matters when he curls a near-bruising grip along Mukuro’s jaw and sees the same hunger and possessiveness he feels reflected in the illusionist’s eyes.

“A Guardian bond is not something I take lightly,” Giotto murmurs, and he knows even without a mirror that his own Flames are burning in his eyes. “You are mine now, and I do not share. In ten years, you will pledge another ten, and another ten after that, and any who dare to try and take you from me, I would run rivers red with their lifeblood.”

(These oaths are old, old and binding and near-forgotten, bastardized ten ways to Sunday but still echoing of power, and even in Giotto’s time, only G and Ugetsu had sworn them. That his new reign would begin with one, when as far as Giotto knows, none have spoken them in centuries - perhaps it speaks of the dawn of a new age.)

Mukuro inhales shakily, not at all prepared for the sheer depth and intensity of a true Flame bond. But the grip he has on Giotto’s wrist is just as tight as Giotto’s, and it only takes him another breath to regain his bearings.

“As you Will it, Giotto,” Mukuro murmurs, and it crackles over Giotto’s skin. No one has spoken his name since his resurrection.

The bond settles between them, calm now but no less potent. Giotto lets go, tickling a tongue of Sun-tinted Sky Flame along Mukuro’s skin to soothe the sting left behind. Mukuro only huffs a breath of laughter, gaze still unwavering on Giotto’s face.

“Well then,” The Mist - Giotto’s Mist - smiles, quieter, more serene, like a glass-spun secret cloaked in shadow, but exultantly bright all the same. “Long live the new King. May your reign be long and prosperous.”

#khr #headcanon meme: answered #giotto #rokudo mukuro #G69 #vongola famiglia #headcanon #there we go g69 wow i didn't think i could do it #lmfao they're both prob way ooc #but that's how it came out

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