Masterlist ୨ৎ pt1 pt2 pt3 pt4 pt5 pt5.5
The finale : Nothing is ever easy.
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Glitter 𐔌 𐦯 : guys dont shout at me i know im one day late. BUT SHES DONE! I cant believe it honestly. this has been such a whirlwind and im lowkey said its over. but I hope you will all stay with me for future projects! yay!
Warnings : SUGGESTIVNESS AT A POINT (nothing explict but still) Angsty, Female!Reader, Reader is a wife, Reader has children, bakugou is very sad, agruments, swearing, sadness, aged up characters, childern, babies.
W/C : 6.9k
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While the rush of determination felt good in the moment, now, standing outside Katsuki’s office, it’s settled into something closer to pure nerves.
You had a plan. A simple one, really. Step one: show your husband you miss him. Step two: admit you’ve both made mistakes. Step three: figure out how the hell to move forward without wrecking each other in the process. It sounded solid enough when you wrote it out in your notes app—three times, actually—but putting it into action? Yeah. Not as easy as it looked on screen.
The first time you tried was when you were dropping the kids off. For the past two weeks, it had been a no-talking, no-eye-contact type of handoff. You stayed in the house, watched Riko do all the work, carrying her sister’s bags and lugging Koharu to the door while you kept your distance. So, you figured attempt number one was simple enough—step in, carry your own kid out to the car, like you probably should’ve been doing this whole time.
So, you took some deep breaths, took Korahu from her sister's hand (paired with a weird look from the older sister) and ushered the girls to the door.
Katsuki was there, like always. Leaning against his car, looking tired. Sad, too. But still stupidly handsome, which pissed you off more than you’d admit. The second the door opened and he saw you standing there, his whole body snapped to attention. His eyes widened a little, his shoulders squared up, like he wasn’t sure what to do but he was sure as hell going to do something.
It was almost funny. Almost.
He didn’t say anything, but he met you halfway. Took Riko’s bag without asking. Looking at Koharu in your arms like it hurt him to see her there and not with him.
“Um…” Riko’s small voice cut through the moment. She hovered a little to the side, fidgeting. “Mama, are you… coming with us?” she asked, her brows pinching in quiet confusion as she glanced between you both.
And, for some reason, this question is a surprise to you. And it very quickly occurs to you also, that maybe your children shouldn't see the maybe difficult and definitely emotional conversation you are planning to have with their father. Yup. Why was that not included in the notes app plan?
You don’t say anything at first. But now Riko’s staring at you like she’s waiting for an answer, and Katsuki’s standing there, still as anything, his hand flexing around the strap of her bag like he’s holding himself back from saying something.
You clear your throat, shifting Koharu’s weight on your hip. “ um… no not today sweetheart, just saying hi is all”.
Riko doesn’t look convinced, but she nods anyway, glancing up at Katsuki. He’s already watching you, gaze steady, a crease between his brows like he’s thinking something he’s not sure he should say out loud.
“You could, y’know,” he mutters after a beat, his voice low but rough at the edges. “Come with us. If you wanted.”
“W-were just getting dinner at that place downtown, with the udon you like. And a movie, probably.”
And if every single member of your little family wasn’t looking at you right now, waiting, hoping, you might’ve groaned out loud. How did you not account for this? How did you not see it coming? And you are not about to screw this up by winging it.
“Oh,” you say, a nervous laugh catching on your tongue. It falls flat. No one joins in. “I think I’ll take a raincheck for tonight. Got some leftover work I need to finish up, unfortunately.”
You reach out to ruffle Riko’s hair. She leans into it, even smiles a little, a nice distraction from the weird tension in the air.
Katsuki doesn’t push. He never does these days. You’re not sure if that makes it easier or harder.
He just watches you for a long moment, like he’s turning something over in his head. His jaw ticks, sharp and familiar, but when he nods, it’s slow. Careful. Like he’s not trusting himself to move too fast. “Yeah,” he says after a beat. His voice is quieter now. “Okay. Another time, then.”
You offer a faint smile, one you hope looks steadier than it feels, and murmur your goodbyes. Riko gives you one last look over her shoulder before climbing into the car. Katsuki opens the door for her without breaking eye contact, and something about that sticks with you longer than it should.
And later that night, you’re still thinking about it. About the way Katsuki’s eyes followed you. About how you turned down his offer because you weren’t ready—not yet—and wondering if it sounded too much like rejection.
You hope not. God, you hope not.
~~
Kirishima’s warnings about time are still hanging in the back of your mind, like a nagging little voice. The more you think about it, the more it feels like putting this conversation off any longer is just another excuse. So, better now than later, right? What’s the worst that could happen? Well, besides everything falling apart, obviously.
Father’s Day.
It’s not intentional, not really. It just sort of happens that way. And, okay, maybe deciding to have this conversation today of all days feels a little… questionable. You could start with a positive. “Wow, you’re actually a good father these days!” Sure, the conversation could end terribly, but at least you’d have that one bit of sincerity before everything goes to shit.
A quick text to Izuku confirms what you already suspected—Katsuki’s working during the day. Of course he is. But he has the kids tonight, which means you get the rest of the evening to yourself. Perfect. Time to spiral in peace.
You spend the morning mentally preparing yourself, like you always do before any interaction with your husband these days. It's become a routine at this point—dress nice, check your reflection one more time, make sure your hair’s in place, like somehow that’ll make everything easier. You even check the gift you got him for the millionth time, just to make sure it hasn’t mysteriously disappeared or been swapped out for something less meaningful. You really don’t need any more stress right now.
You want your arrival to be a complete surprise, which means you can't just drive. That would be too easy—and also, the parking sensors at his place would give you away in a second. Katsuki would know you were there before you even stepped out of the car, and you definitely don’t want him overthinking anything. So, you opt for the bus instead. It feels a little ridiculous, but it’s the only way to guarantee you catch him completely off guard. No time for him to prepare or second-guess. You want this moment to be real, unfiltered.
As the bus rumbles along, you look out the window at the sunny day, feeling something a little unexpected—hope. It’s been a long time since you’ve felt that. It’s funny, though, but as you sit there, the memories come flooding back. It was actually this time of year, so many years ago, when Katsuki officially asked you to be his girlfriend. It feels like a lifetime ago, but the memories are so vivid. People are always surprised when you tell them he was shy back then, especially since they only see the brash, bold personality he’s built up over the years. Back then, though, he was anything but.
He suggested a walk and lunch, like any normal date. But you hadn’t even made it ten minutes down the path before he pulled you aside, cornering you against a tree. His eyes were wide, a mixture of determination and uncertainty flickering behind them. “I want to be official,” he’d said, so seriously, yet nervously—completely out of character for him. You couldn’t help but laugh, a soft, genuine laugh. Maybe that laugh made it all the more real, solidifying that this was the boy who had stolen your heart so effortlessly, and the man who was now trying to win it all over again.
And now, here you are, so many years later. The shy boy has grown into a man. Changed by time, by life, by everything you’ve both gone through. It’s funny how much time can shift a person, how it can shape someone in ways you don’t always see coming. You wonder how he’d say you’ve changed, too. Would he even recognize the person you’ve become? Would he still see the girl who laughed under that tree all those years ago? You weren’t so sure.
When you find yourself standing outside Katsuki’s agency building, you don’t hesitate. The adrenaline is already pumping, your heart racing as you push open the door, wondering if any paparazzi are lurking nearby. It’s a small but nagging thought, the price of being so connected to someone so publicly known.
You walk up to the front desk, and the receptionists look up, offering you a warm, welcoming smile. "How have you been?" one of them asks, and for a brief moment, you forget how long it’s been since you’ve actually been here. You can’t even remember the last time you stepped foot into this place. Maybe back when it was still new, and Katsuki was so excited about it. Back then, he used to pester you to come visit all the time, his proud smile, guiding you around with that quiet swagger of his.
You glance around, taking in the changes since the last time you were here. There’s a new fishtank behind the reception desk, the soft swish of water a peaceful contrast to the buzz of the street outside. You didn’t even notice it when you first walked in. When did that get put in?
Leaning in slightly, you lower your voice to a near whisper, careful not to draw attention. “Don’t tell Katsuki I’m here. I’ve got a surprise for him.” The words are almost a secret, a lightness to them that doesn’t entirely match the nervous tension growing inside you. The receptionists giggle softly, their glances exchanged behind a knowing smile before one of them gives a playful, almost conspiratorial nod.
One of them leans forward, their voice light with curiosity and a hint of amusement. “A surprise, huh?” they ask, their tone teasing but not intrusive. “Hopefully he’ll love it. Honestly, he’s been a little quiet around here... maybe he’s just been missing you.”
You nod, trying to mask the sudden tension in your chest. Off. Katsuki had been distant in a way that was hard to ignore. The words only make your nerves continue to bubble in your stomach. You hate the idea that you’ve been ruining his work life too.
Once the elevator beeps, you quietly step out and walk down the halfway, the sounds of talking fleeting in the background. Your footsteps echo softly, and for a brief moment, you wonder if this is a mistake, or if you’re doing the right thing. Why does everything feel so uncertain now?
But then you shake your head, forcing the doubts aside. You can’t hesitate now—not when you’ve come this far. You clutch the gift a little tighter, the weight of it solid in your hands, a reminder of why you’re here. Just do it.
When you finally make it to his office, you can’t help but hesitate outside the door. His blinds are down, so he hasn’t seen you coming. You glance down at your phone—no messages, no missed calls. There’s nothing to suggest he’s expecting you. Still, you hesitate. Your hand hovers above the door, but you can’t bring yourself to actually touch it.
You shift your weight from one foot to the other, the tension in your body making you feel jittery, like you're on the edge of doing something you can't quite bring yourself to start. You glance around the hall, seeing a few curious looks in your direction, and you realize just how out of place you must seem, standing here in front of his door, waiting. The longer you stand there, the stranger it feels. You can’t put it off any longer.
God, this is hard.
You knock lightly, the sound barely audible. When no response comes after a couple of seconds, you knock again, this time a little more forceful.
“WHAT,” comes Katsuki’s loud voice from the other side, as sharp as ever. You can practically feel the force of it through the door, and it makes you wonder how his staff ever manages to be around him all day without flinching. But you? You're nervous, sure, but you're not scared. You steady yourself, taking a deep breath, before pushing the door open.
To your surprise, Katsuki isn’t alone.
Izuku is there too, leaning over Katsuki’s desk with his face uncomfortably close to him. Katsuki, on the other hand, is leaning away, his body stiff and his brows furrowed as if he’s trying to put as much distance between them as possible. But no matter how much Katsuki shifts, Izuku’s still right there, talking to him like they’re in some weird, casual conversation.
As you step inside, the low murmur of their voices reaches your ears.
“Why are your under eyes so dark? Have you been sleeping?” Izuku asks, genuinely concerned, his eyes scanning Katsuki’s face.
“Get out of my fuckin’ face, Deku,” Katsuki grumbles in response, his hand coming up to swat at Izuku’s face. Izuku, as usual, seems oblivious to how much space he’s crowding, even as he nudges closer to Katsuki’s personal space.
You, on the other hand, stand frozen in the doorway, unsure of what to do. It’s a bit confusing, actually—neither of them has looked over at you even though they both know someone’s coming in. You clear your throat, a soft “hello” slipping out, just enough to break the silence.
And just like that, both of them snap their attention to you. Katsuki’s eyes widen in surprise, his body shifting almost instinctively, pushing his chair back as far from Izuku as possible. He straightens up, his posture suddenly more alert. His eyes track you, silent and intense, but there’s an undercurrent of something—maybe nervousness, maybe relief, and definitely surprise. At least your plan worked?
Izuku, on the other hand, stands up quickly, a wide, easy smile lighting up his face. “Hey!” he says brightly, completely unaware of the sudden tension in the room. “Katsuki didn’t mention you were coming today!” Without missing a beat, he takes a step forward and pulls you into a warm hug, a casual, friendly gesture that feels comforting in the moment but also slightly jarring given everything you’ve been feeling.
Katsuki watches this carefully, his face softening just a fraction when he sees the way Izuku is interacting with you.
Izuku pulls away from the hug with a grin, oblivious to any underlying tension. “It’s good to see you!” his voice light, before turning back to Katsuki.
“You too,” you say shyly, your voice quiet, your gaze catching Katsuki’s. The intensity of his stare unsettles you more than you expect, his eyes still tracking you like he’s trying to make sense of why you’re here, why you showed up today.
But before you can dwell on it too much, Katsuki’s voice cuts through the air with surprising sharpness. “Deku, leave.”
Izuku blinks, clearly taken aback. “What?! But I want to catch up with you guys! I haven’t seen Y/N in forever, and you’ve been dodging my calls—”
“Get the fuck out,” Katsuki growls again, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Izuku frowns, giving Katsuki a playful side-eye, not picking up on the tension at all. “But you see her every day! I just want to—”
“Deku.”
There’s a sudden finality in Katsuki’s voice, something that makes Izuku pause for a second before his expression shifts. It’s as though he understands something unspoken, the corners of his mouth lifting in a resigned smile. He grabs his jacket off the back of his chair, clearly about to exit.
“Fine… but I really want to see you guys soon!” Izuku says, turning back to you as he heads toward the door. “And Y/N?” he calls with a teasing grin. “Make sure he’s sleeping okay, alright? I know you two are young and in love but—”
“GET THE FUCK OUT, DEKU!” Katsuki cuts him off, his voice booming, and Izuku laughs, raising his hands in mock surrender as he finally exits, leaving you and Katsuki standing there in the thick silence.
You shift uncomfortably, unsure of what to say or do. The plan had been so simple in your head—so clear—but now, in the face of this strange and quiet moment, it feels anything but.
“I—” You start, your voice faltering before you take a steadying breath. “I wasn’t expecting him to be here.”
Katsuki says nothing, his silence hanging between you both like a heavy fog. He runs a hand through his hair, the motion almost like a reflex, and you watch as his jaw tightens, then relaxes. Still, he doesn’t speak.
You glance at the space between you, then back at him, the knot in your stomach tightening. This wasn’t how you envisioned it.
“I brought you something,” you murmur, your hand instinctively reaching for the small gift bag you’ve been holding onto like a lifeline. “For Father’s Day.”
At the mention of Father’s Day, his eyes flicker for a moment, just a brief flash of something soft and unfamiliar before it’s gone. Katsuki doesn’t take the gift from you immediately, instead watching it with a gaze that’s more distant than you expect. He doesn’t say anything for a few long beats, and you’re starting to think maybe this was a mistake, maybe you should’ve just left it alone.
But then he takes a step forward, reaching for the bag with an almost reluctant gesture. “You didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to,” you reply, your voice quiet but sincere. "It's... it's just a little something."
Katsuki gives a stiff nod as he pulls the bag from your hands, his fingers brushing against yours briefly, and though the contact is fleeting, it sends a shiver through you. He opens it slowly, and the soft crinkle of tissue paper fills the silence before he pulls out the small, simple gift you picked out for him—a picture frame. It’s of him and the girls, when Koharu had just been born and was still so tiny. You don’t think he’s ever seen this picture. You took it during one of those rare, quiet moments when he was reading to the girls, lost in the story and unaware you were watching from the doorway.
For a long time, Katsuki doesn’t speak. He simply stares at the frame in his hands, his gaze fixed on the picture. You consider that your going to be met with silence again, that this was all one big mistake and your overstepping with someone that can’t be bothered with you anymore.
“Is… is it okay?” you ask hesitantly, your voice breaking the silence.
Finally, Katsuki looks up at you, and for a moment, the distance between you seems to shrink. “Yeah. It’s fine. It’s… nice,” he says with a low soft tone to it.
You shift, unsure of what to do next, your eyes tracing the lines of his face, the hard planes of his jaw, the tension that hasn’t quite faded from his shoulders. It’s like he's lost in the memory, but also wrestling with it at the same time.
After what feels like forever, he finally speaks, and the words are barely a whisper, but they hold more weight than any explosion he could’ve set off. "What are you really doing here?"
His eyes flick up to meet yours, but they linger there for just a moment before quickly darting away, almost like he’s afraid of what he might see if he holds your gaze too long.
For a second, you don’t know how to answer. Your throat tightens, the weight of his gaze pressing down on you. It’s not an easy question to answer, not when the answer feels too complicated, tangled up with everything you both are and aren’t anymore.
But you manage to find your voice. “I—” You stop yourself, unsure how to explain it, unsure of how much to say. You try again, quieter this time. “I wanted to see you. To... give you that. To... be here.”
His gaze shifts briefly, something unreadable flashing in his eyes before he looks down at the frame again. His fingers tighten around it, but it’s not in anger—it’s like he’s holding onto it, holding onto the moment in the picture, trying to tether himself to something he can’t quite let go of.
There’s a hesitation in the way he breathes, in the way his gaze keeps flicking between the picture and you. He seems to want to say something, but whatever it is, he’s holding it back, like it’s too fragile to speak aloud.
Then—“Sweetheart…” His voice catches, a quiet hesitation there you haven’t heard before. “What does that mean?” His lips twitch into a dry, almost self-deprecating smile. “I’m a little fuckin’ confused over here.”
You huff a breath, nerves fluttering under your skin. Fair enough. You did show up unannounced after weeks of silence, acting like none of it had happened. Of course he’s confused. You would be, too.
“Yeah. Okay. Um—well!” You force a shaky exhale through a tight-lipped smile. God, why is this so hard? “I just… had some things to say and I—well. No. I guess.”
The words tangle in your mouth before they can land anywhere. You’re floundering, and you know it.
Katsuki reaches out, his hand finding your hip with a steadiness you didn’t realize you needed. His thumb draws slow, grounding circles against your side. “Breathe,” he murmurs.
You do. So does he.
And when you give him a small, grateful smile, it’s answered by a faint flush rising on his cheeks. That soft, familiar pink that makes your chest ache. Yeah… this is okay. You can do this.
“I wanted to apologize,” you say, quieter now. “For what happened… last time. When you were at the house.”
His hand falls away from your hip at that, and the loss of it makes your skin prickle cold. But you keep going.
“You were right. It wasn’t fair to you. And then I made it worse by not reaching out after I… after I threw you out.” You swallow hard, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “I guess I thought you’d message me first. Which was stupid.”
“I didn’t want to overstep,” he says quietly, staring down at his hands like they’re something he’s only just noticed. His knuckles are tight, the same hands that just held you, now clenched like he’s bracing for something.
You step closer, reaching out. Your palms cradle his face, coaxing his gaze back to yours. His eyes widen, startled in a way that makes your heart ache all over again. Like he can’t quite believe you’re here.
“I know you didn’t,” you say softly. “I think I was just feeling… insecure. Hurt. And, yeah, maybe a little petty.” You try for a smile, but it’s faint. “Not my most mature moment.”
Your fingers slip into his hair, nails grazing gently at his hairline. “I’m sorry. Okay?”
Katsuki’s quiet for a beat. Then another. His eyes search yours like he’s looking for something he isn’t sure he’ll find.
And then, barely above a breath—“Does that mean I can come home now?”
The way he says it cracks something open inside you. Soft. Uncertain. Katsuki Bakugou, who has always been brash and sure, suddenly sounds like a kid waiting to be told he’s not in trouble. Like he’s hoping for permission to want this.
Your chest tightens. “Yes,” you whisper. “I… missed you. A lot. So if you want to, yeah. Please.”
You barely have time to breathe before he’s pulling you in, arms wrapping tight around you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go. His face presses to your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin.
“I’m sorry too,” he says, his voice thick. “I hate that I made you feel like that. You’re… you’re the most beautiful fuckin’ person in the world to me. I want you to know that.”
He draws back just enough to look at you, his hands still cradling your waist. His eyes are a little red around the edges. “I’ve missed you so fuckin’ much.”
You smile. And this time, it feels real.
“Me too.”
~~~
Katsuki doesn’t come home that night.
He tells you straight, his hands firm on your hips, holding you steady like he thinks you might drift off if he doesn’t. “I… I want to come back tonight. Fuck, angel, I want to.” His thumbs press in, warm and certain. “But it’s complicated. I got arts and crafts shit with the girls, and—”
He pauses, searching your face, as if there’s something he needs you to understand. And you do. You really do. It’s Father’s Day, after all. He’s planned something fun with them—he deserves that.
So you nod. “It’s fine,” you say, even if it’s not entirely. Even if part of you aches a little at the thought of another night in an empty house.
But then his phone buzzes again. The reminder that he’s still on the clock, still pro-hero Dynamight. He mutters under his breath, answering the call with a scowl. And while he’s distracted, you let yourself slip toward the door. No point hovering.
You don’t get far before he’s slamming the phone down.
“Oi,” he calls, striding toward you. “Don’t leave without saying goodbye.”
You turn, halfway through a smile. “You’re busy.”
“Don’t care,” he shrugs, before wrapping you up in another of his crushing hugs, his chin hooked over your shoulder like he’s grounding himself. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”
“Yeah,” you murmur, breathing him in. “Let me know how you and the girls get on.”
At that, he pulls back just enough to flash a small, crooked smile. “They’ll love it.” And you can tell he means it. He’s already picturing it—Korahu’s chubby fingers smearing paint where it shouldn’t go, Riko trying to keep things under control like she’s got any chance at all.
It all goes surprisingly smooth after that. You part ways. No fight. No lingering weight pressing on your chest. Just… quiet. Simple. You didn’t expect simple.
Still, the house feels a little emptier when you get home. You tell yourself it’s karma. Fair’s fair.
So you fill the quiet with the hum of self-care—cleaning, candles, making the bed like he’s already here. Maybe it’s silly, but it makes you feel better. Like you’re making room for him.
A couple of texts drop in while you work:
[7:34 PM] Kirishima: Katsuki said you guys made up!!! 💪 Happy for u (even tho I’ll miss bro being here 😣)
[8:28 PM] Katsuki: Never letting Korahu touch paint again.
[8:28 PM] Katsuki: [Image Attached]
You can’t help the grin as you open the photo. Korahu’s covered, head to toe, in streaks of neon green paint. The grin gets bigger when you reply, because yeah… things are starting to feel okay.
You catch yourself thinking how simple it was in the end. Just… talk to him. That’s all it took. So simple it’s stupid. But it’s a start. Onwards and upwards, right?
And still… the intimacy part lingers in the back of your mind. Not the physical, not exactly. The closeness. Letting him in again, letting yourself be seen. You’re getting there. You’re proud of that.
You’re just about to call it a night when you hear the knock.
It’s late. Too late for visitors. You tread light toward the door, thinking maybe you imagined it, but then it comes again, sharper this time.
You jump. “Who is it?”
“Me, sweetheart.”
Your heart stumbles. For a second, your mind blanks, chasing every possibility. Are the girls okay? Did something happen? Or did he really take ‘come back tomorrow’ as ‘come back at nearly midnight’?
You crack the door open, and there he is. Katsuki. Standing there like it’s nothing.
“You shouldn’t talk through the door,” he says, voice low, a little gruff. “Use the cameras. Don’t let people know if you’re home.”
You barely register the lecture. “What are you doing here?”
He huffs. “Can I come in first?”
You step back, and he does, toeing his boots off by instinct before looking at you again. He’s flushed a little—maybe from the night air, maybe from something else.
“I thought you weren’t coming until tomorrow.”
“Yeah.” He drags a hand through his hair, messy already. “The girls are asleep. Told Kirishima I was heading out.”
You wait. He’s not exactly known for long explanations, but still. You wait.
He shifts, uncomfortable in a way that’s rare for him. “I know I said I’d come tomorrow. I was about to go to bed. Was gonna text you.” His hand rubs at the back of his neck, his voice rougher now. “But I didn’t wanna do that again. I didn’t wanna… not be here. So.”
A beat.
“Probably should’ve asked first,” he mutters. “Sorry.”
You stand there for a second, taking him in. The way his shoulders are tense, like he’s bracing for you to tell him to leave. The way his mouth pulls down at the corners, softened by tired eyes.
You take a step closer, your fingers brushing against his wrist before curling around it. You feel his pulse jump beneath your touch.
“Don’t say sorry,” you tell him, your voice gentler than you expected. “I was just surprised. You know I want you here.”
His breath leaves him in a slow exhale. “Okay,” he says. “Good.”
For a moment, neither of you speak. It’s comfortable in a way it hasn’t been for a while. Quiet. Easy.
Then he shifts, his grip on your wrist tightening just enough to pull you closer. “You look nice,” he murmurs.
You huff a laugh. “These are just my pajamas, Katsuki.”
“I know that.” His fingers trace lightly along your jaw, calloused pads dragging slow and careful. “Still means you can look nice, doesn’t it?”
There’s something in the way he looks at you—soft, but hungry. It’s not just that he’s missed you. It’s the kind of heat you haven’t seen from him in a long time, and it catches you off guard. Your skin prickles under the weight of it.
You laugh again, quiet and nervous, and step back just slightly. You regret it the second you do. But he doesn’t push. His mouth quirks into something close to a smirk, easy, like he doesn’t mind waiting.
“I was just heading to bed,” you say, clearing your throat.
“Let’s go then, huh?” His voice is rough, low, but there’s no push behind it—just an offer.
Later, you sit beneath the covers, watching him move around the room. He pulls his shirt off and folds it onto the chair, and your eyes catch on the cut of his shoulders, the sharp lines of muscle along his back. Familiar. Hard-earned. You’ve seen it a thousand times, but it hits you different tonight. Like you’re seeing him again for the first time.
Your face warms, and you look away, embarrassed by how much you feel like a teenager sneaking glances.
The room dims when he turns the lamp down, leaving just a wash of amber light spilling across the sheets. Then the mattress shifts under his weight as he crawls in beside you, his arm slipping easily around your waist, pulling you into the solid heat of his chest.
You let out a slow breath against him, and he answers with one of his own.
“Missed you,” he murmurs. His hand smooths over your hip, dragging slow, then curling back up your spine. “Missed this. Can’t believe I made us go without it for so damn long.”
“I’ve missed it too,” you whisper. “Missed you.”
And then he’s looking at you. Really looking. Like he used to—like he did in those early years when the world was still new between you. His hand comes up to your cheek, thumb stroking along the curve of your jaw. It’s reverent. Careful.
He leans in, brushing his lips to yours, light as a breath. It’s tender, almost hesitant. But you kiss him back. And then it’s not hesitant at all.
His hand slides into your hair as the kiss deepens, his mouth demanding now, hungry and hot. It’s messy, desperate—years of holding back spilling out in the press of his lips, the scrape of his teeth, the low sound he makes when you breathe his name against his skin. His other hand finds your hip, holding on tight like he’s worried you’ll vanish if he lets go.
When you shift, swinging your leg over to straddle his lap, he groans into your mouth, his hands immediately smoothing down over your thighs, then up, fingers splaying wide as if he’s trying to map all of you at once. You’re already flushed and breathless, but the sound of him like this, so openly wrecked for you, drives you to chase more.
The kisses don’t stop—don’t even slow. His mouth is hot, hungry against yours, and the way he groans when you grind down makes heat pool deep in your belly. His hands are everywhere now, rough palms skating over soft skin, kneading at your waist, your ass, like he can’t get enough.
Then he breaks the kiss just long enough to catch his breath, his thumb dragging across your lower lip as he does. Both of you are panting, chests rising and falling like you’ve run miles to get here.
“Fuck,” he mutters, eyes dark as they flick over your face. “You’re perfect, sweetheart. Driving me outta my damn mind.”
You can’t help the breathy laugh that escapes you, your hand still resting over his hammering heart. He’s not the only one losing it here.
“I love this,” he says, his voice rough with heat as he gives your hips a slow, deliberate push down against him. Yeah, you can tell. There’s no mistaking the hard press of him beneath you, or the way his grip tightens as he holds you there for a moment longer. “Love you,” he adds, softer, but no less intense. “But I need you to know I didn’t show up for this. Wasn’t tryin’ to make this a booty call or some shit. I just… really needed to be close to you.”
You lean in, brushing your nose against his, smiling faintly. “I know, Kats. I know that’s not you.”
“Good,” he murmurs. He tips his head back, blowing out a breath, as if he’s trying to cool himself down. “No more for tonight though.”
You blink, momentarily thrown, and then pout, full and obvious. When he cracks an eye open and sees it, his grin spreads slow and wicked. He’s enjoying this, even if his chest is still heaving like he’s run a marathon.
“Ain’t got any protection, sweets,” he says, voice low and deep. “And it’s been a long damn while. I won’t be able to hold myself back with you.”
A beat. His gaze flickers, watching your reaction, something warm and teasing in his expression—but there’s truth there, too. A warning wrapped in affection.
“So unless you want Korahu to have a sibling nine months from now,” he drawls, thumb stroking along your hipbone, “I think it’s best we call it.”
You huff a little laugh and shake your head, leaning forward until your forehead presses to his. “You’re impossible.”
He snorts softly. “Don’t blame me. I ain’t thrilled we have to stop either, princess.”
You both settle, breath slowing. The heat fades into something quieter, something steady. You roll off him and curl into his side, and his arm comes around you without hesitation, pulling you close. He presses slow, sleepy kisses to your temple, to your jaw, to your shoulder—lazy but full of something that makes your chest ache.
“Night, Kat,” you whisper against his skin.
“Night, baby,” he murmurs, and then his voice firms up like he’s gripping the words tight. “I love you.”
It comes out of you before you can think too hard about it. “I love you too.”
There’s a breath, shaky but soft. “Yeah,” he says again, his voice catching just a little. “Yeah.”
~~~
After that night, the waters begin to finally settle.
It isn’t perfect—Katsuki is still busy, still only human. But he’s trying, and when he slips up, you forgive him. And when you start to overthink things, he doesn’t let you spiral—just pulls you close, asks you softly if things are okay, if they can be better.
He leaves notes when he knows he’ll be working late, scribbled in his sharp, messy handwriting. Little things. I love you. Sleep early. Don’t wait up. Or, Miss you already. See you soon, sweetheart. And things do get better.
And it’s not just you who notices.
Riko smiles more, hugs you without hesitation. Her arms don’t feel like they’re trying to hold you together anymore—they’re just hugs, warm and happy and childlike the way they should be.
Going to Katsuki’s parents for the first time after everything isn’t as scary as you thought, either. His mom pulls you in tight, whispering a quiet thank you. But you thank her instead, and when Katsuki catches your gaze, there’s no shame there—no guilt or lingering anger. Just quiet, steady affection.
It makes you wonder how you ever went so long without it.
Because now, you’re addicted to it. Not in a naïve, honeymoon phase way—no, things aren’t perfect. There are still arguments, still sharp words and teary nights. But the love isn’t put into question anymore. That stays constant.
Life moves fast, and for the first time in a long time, you don’t dread it. You embrace it.
And then, one quiet evening, as you sit on the beach with Katsuki, watching the girls play in the sand, you’re reminded just how far you’ve come.
His chin rests on your shoulder, arms draped around your waist as you twirl his fingers absently between yours. The waves roll lazily in front of you, golden light casting long shadows across the shore.
“You know,” he murmurs, voice low against your ear, “it was three years ago today.”
You hum, still watching the girls. “What was?”
“When you left.” His voice is quiet, careful. “Up to Tokyo.”
The words land soft but heavy.
It feels so long ago now, that time in your life when everything felt unbearable. But you still remember it—how could you not?
“Wow,” you murmur, letting the thought settle. “So long ago now.”
“Yeah.” He pauses, his grip tightening around you, like he’s bracing himself.
Then, softer, “I’m still sorry about that.”
You turn slightly, glancing back at him. His gaze is distant, the light catching in his eyes, making them burn a little redder than usual.
“I—” he exhales, shaking his head. “It’s one of my biggest mistakes. Letting things get to that point. I don’t think I can ever fully forgive myself—”
“Katsuki.” You shift, turning fully now so you can cup his face in your hands. His eyes flicker to yours, sad and heavy with regret.
“I nearly lost you,” he whispers. “I did lose you. And I still can’t believe myself.”
Your heart aches at the way he says it—like it’s something that still haunts him, something he’ll never quite let go of.
But you smile, small and sure. Your thumbs brush over his cheekbones, grounding him.
“But you didn’t,” you remind him gently. “We’re here. Together.”
He lets out a slow, shuddering breath, like he’s been holding it in for years. Then, finally—he nods.
“Yeah.” His voice wobbles just slightly, thick with something unspoken.
You kiss him, soft and lingering. His hands find your waist, holding you close, and when you pull back, his forehead presses to yours, breath warm against your lips.
You turn again, settling back against his chest to watch the girls for a moment longer, listening to the rush of the tide.
Then you glance back at him, feeling brave. Feeling full.
“Where do you think we’ll be in another three years?” you ask, leaning into his chest.
He huffs a soft laugh, kissing your hair.
“Wherever you are,” he says simply. “That’s where I’ll be.”
And you believe him. It feels so good to have full promises again.
You tilt your head back, catching his lips in a kiss that tastes like salt and sun and a future you’re both ready for.
And when you pull back, he’s smiling. Really smiling.
“Come on,” he says, tugging you gently to your feet. “Let’s go get our girls.”
“Yeah,” you reply, fingers threading through his. “Let’s go home.”
And you do. Together.
.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊
it was so daunting finishing everything off, but i hope its okay!
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general taglist 🏷️ : @cristy-101 @cielito--lindo @waterfal-ling
THE NIGHT WE MET — IZUKU MIDORIYA
★ ˛˚ . a little mermaid themes, after nearly drowning and being saved by… something, you’re met face to face with your home towns legends, sending your relaxed summer break taking care of your uncle spiraling.
★ pairing: mermaid!deku x marine science student!gn!reader
★ word count: 8.2k
★ content: fluff, modern fantasy?? au, reader is in college/studying marine biology (only briefly mentioned), bestie bkg, reader is from a fishing village, swearing, mild mention of injuries, semi-graphic drowning, mentions of hospitals, eating/food mentions, fruit as a love language.
i realized when writing some of the bestie bakugou parts that i was… showing my bias just a bit :’) so to remedy it i wrote myself in as his off screen partner :) this is the first part of right below the surface mermaid series !!
YOU WERE NEVER SUPPOSED TO COME BACK HERE. You always hated this place — it was small and even when you were a child, it was dying — and you quickly find nothing at all has changed. Everything's standing still — stagnant. You hate it. You feared getting stuck, it's why you clawed so hard to get away, being just as stagnant as the rest. You'd promised yourself. You told yourself you'd graduate, get into a good college, and never look back.
But you've always been bad at keeping your promises. And when your uncle broke his leg falling off his fishing boat, forcing him to be house ridden and work less, you couldn't say no.
And so here you are, nestled in overheated sand and letting the same water you spent your whole life resenting lap at the soles of your feet. That fear, the creeping feeling of stagnation—of never being better—haunted you. The idea of standing still terrified you, watching the world grow while you were stuck in your tiny, unchanging hometown.
Though, even then, you can't help but melt in the familiarity.
"You're gonna have a damn heatstroke if you spend the whole day holed up on the rocks."
“Awww, it’s almost like you care about me,” you have to squint up at him, hand a poor shield from the sun. Bakugou scoffs, trapping the notebook he was holding against the back of your head.
“You fuckin’ wish. Just don’t wanna have to haul your ass to the doctor when you pass out in the sand. And I need you to help me run some errands.”
You groan, flopping boneless against the sand, “why me?” He doesn’t entertain the whine, pulling you up by your wrists. “Can’t you get one of your idiot friends to help you?”
“I am getting one of my ‘idiot friends’ to help me- you, dumbass.” You try your best to act as dead weight behind him, dragging your feet through the sand, “and they're errands for your uncle so you're lucky I'm doing them at all. Should make you run the boat while he’s holed up.”
“You know he hates it as much as you do, Katsuki. He’s been driving me crazy trying to take care of himself.” He’d always been that way. Stubborn. Your mother used to tell you that you reminded her of him. It didn’t feel like a compliment.
Katsuki looks back at you, fingers loosening around your wrist, like he knows what you're thinking. “Trust me, I know how stubborn that bastard can be,” his arm is hooked around your neck to drag you into step next to him, “we’re buttin’ heads constantly.”
You flail a bit in surprise before teeth sink into the juncture of his arm and he lets you go with an affronted gasp, “you fuckin’ gremlin.” Bakugou rubs at the indents roughly, “thought the city was supposed to civilize ya.”
The walk into town is longer than you remember, but maybe you just forgot how expansive the town really was. Katsuki was right, it’s uncomfortably hot, air thick and sticky — it feels like every breath takes effort. It gets worse the closer to town you get, the smell of iron and gasoline pressing down on you. The dock is empty, most boats already out for the day, but the smell lingers.
Main street is busy, as busy as the town can get, and you can already hear the cheesy nautical music being played in the little tourist shops. You always found it funny just how many there were. Little brightly coloured shops filled with novelty plates and mermaid-themed mugs and shirts. When you were little you’d always buy something absurd for your uncle, a windchime carved like a giant crab or a snowglobe whose red glitter looked morbidly like blood. He always kept them.
There’s only one grocer on the island, boxed in by countless fishing supply stores and boat shop repairs. It’s always been so overcrowded you were tempted to start up a rival just so you could get your strawberries without shoulder checking a grandmother.
“Gotta stop by the boat shop before we head back,” Katsuki says, nudging you with an elbow, “yer uncle’s needs a new cleat.”
“Aye aye, Captain!”
He rolls his eyes, pushing the door to the grocery open for you. It’s oddly empty, with no one but the distant sounds of shuffling in the back and a very sunburnt teen closely reading the back of a cereal box.
The shops are rather unchanged, sole for a couple of aisles of sugary cereals and chips, you find it easy to navigate the crates of fruits, “he give you a list?”
“Nah- here for pickup.” Katsuki’s moved to the front, flicking the little bell on the counter, “always buys the same shit anyways.”
The shopkeep, a grinning mess of familiar dark hair, pokes himself from the back. Kirishima’s stayed the same, too, you think. The same horrible cut-off novelty Hawaiian shirt he wore during summer breaks and strong arms, hoisting the heavy crate of plums easily.
“Hey!” You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face when you step up beside Bakugou. He gasps audibly, quickly moving around the counter to yank you into a hug, “I forgot you were supposed to be back today!”
He pulls away, still gripping your forearms, to do a once over.
“Kiri, it’s nice to see you again.” And it is.
“I’ll say- feels like you’ve been gone a decade.” A very apparent thought crosses his face, an audible little oh escaping him as he grips you tighter, “you should come to the bonfire with us tomorrow morning!”
You huff a laugh at the enthusiasm, “us?”
“Yeah! Mina, Denki, and hopefully Bakugou planned on going out to look for shells and teeth! It’s supposed to storm tonight, perfect weather!"
It’s sweet that they’ve kept up with that — combing the beach in a futile effort to find whole shark teeth or the decorative shells tourists seem to always leave with. You used to do it for the grocery store, back when Mina’s grandma owned it, and she’d string up the little shells and pieces of sea glass found into windchimes or bracelets.
Katsuki lets out an exaggerated groan, head tossed back, “Kirishima. The groceries?”
“Oh! Right.” Kiri ducks behind the counter and rummages around before remerging with two packed paper bags of meats and vegetables. You can see the tops of a celery stalk leaned against the little homemade cookies your uncle likes so much. When Katsuki reaches for the handles Kirishima pulls them back, “you are coming, too, right?”
“I really don’t have the patience for this right now,” his snarl doesn’t seem to phase Kiri, though, who continues to slide the bags out of his reach.
“Katsuki!” He whines, lip pulling into an exaggerated pout, “please come?” Kirishima looks pointedly at you, his little way of making you feel included, and grins, “you can come too! It’ll be like back in the day!”
He groans, scrubbing at his face roughly, “I don’t know, ‘t’s date night, y’know.” You huff a quiet little laugh, it’s nice to know Katsuki hasn’t learned how to lie since you’ve been gone.
“Date night is on Wednesdays, which means you’re free! So you’ll come, right?” Kirishima leans onto the counter, resting his chin in hand, “unless you want me to ask them? I’m sure she can give me a straight answer.”
“No- don’t! Don’t fuckin’ threaten me with that. Fine, I’ll go. But I’m home by 12.” Kirishima beams, sliding over the prior hostage groceries before turning back to you.
It’s cute how well Kirishima’s threat worked on him. But the closeness sends a little pang of hurt through you. They know each other. Now that you’re back, faced with the lives that moved on without you, you regret never settling. Even if it was just a little: trying to date or befriending more than the people you’d known since birth. Anything but burying yourself in jobs and school and breaking up with the only boyfriend you’d had so you could finally get out. Maybe then you wouldn’t be so… alien in your hometown.
“You too, right?” You’re startled by the attention, meeting Kirishima’s earnest eyes. “You’ll come?”
“Of course!” It’d be a lie to say you didn’t want the company. Or that you’d missed them after you’d left. “You know I love shore hunting.”
“Great!” He beams, revealing a third bag of groceries for you to carry, “Bakugou can give you a ride and everything! Mina will be thrilled to see you again — Denki, too.”
He flashes one last smile before disappearing back behind the shop's little door, avoiding Katsuki’s pointed hey! and leaving you to follow a fuming Bakugou to the boat shop across the street.
Maybe it’d be nice to see everyone again .
“You’re a lot of fuckin’ help, y’know,” Katsuki grunts from the hull, struggling to haul the metal cage over the side of the boat. It hits the water a moment later, sinking below the choppy waves. “I’m so glad I brought you along.”
You snort, head lolling against your shoulder so you can grin at him, “awww, you knew what you were getting into. You’re the one who said it was ‘my damn uncle’s boat’ and I needed to ‘get off my ass’,” his eyes narrow at the impersonation. “Even though, technically, I came to sit on my ass and watch my uncle’s leg heal. Not to run his crab traps.”
It was his job, technically. You'd started going with him to check the traps after your uncle got better at using his crutches. You hated to admit that it was nice to be doing something other than reading old boat manuals and eating the shrimp chips your uncle bought in bulk.
He grumbles, tossing the ropes back to the boat’s deck before making his way to the helm. You had five more traps to set before the storm moved in, stirrs up the smell of the bait and the water stays warm.
But the skies are darker than they should be. The rain wasn’t supposed to start until noon, and the wind wasn’t supposed to pick up until hours later. You had time, but you still found yourself worrying.
“Are you sure we should be out here? Why can’t the traps wait until after the storm,” you grumble, tucking your hands underneath your arms. Katsuki glares at you from where he’s steering and you can hear your uncle’s rant pooling on his tongue.
“Stop fuckin’ complain’,” he barks, tossing another rope onto the hull, “not even makin’ you do shit and you still find something to complain about.”
You huff, sitting up to glance over the edge of the boat. The water’s dark and choppy, waves slapping against the metal and hissing. Bakugou drops another cage, sending more waves against the boat's side.
The cage sinks slowly, pushing against the current as it disappears into the dark. There’s another splash in front of you, louder than the cage, and you jerk upright. Katsuki shouldn’t have dropped another trap already and it sounded too far away.
You pull yourself up, leaning against the rails as you search the churning waves. There’s nothing, any ripple from the movement hidden in the vicious waves caused by the storm.
It’s raining now, your boots squeaking against the metal floor as you chase the noise. There’s a flash of color—green, the green you’d seen on the beach—and you lean to see more.
“What’re you doin’ dumbass? Get away from the sides!” Katsuki drops the rope he was holding, gripping the railing, “gonna get yourself swept over.”
You ignore him, heart beating out of your chest as you see another flash of fins, “did you-” lightning cracks over you, and you feel the boat start to tip with the waves. It happens so quick, a wave beats against the side and spills over. Your feet, already slipping on the slick metal, are swept out from under you.
You’re too shocked to react, hands clawing at the railing but too slick to get traction as the waves drag you back. The water’s cold, shocking a gasp out as you're pushed under—even though you tell yourself you shouldn’t- that you know how to handle this.
But you don’t. You’ve never drowned and the tightness in your lungs feels ready to burst, your head hits the ground again and your ears begin to ring. You can feel yourself being pushed further to sea by the currents, further away from the boat.
Something moves above you, quick and shadowed and for a moment you think you’ve seen a shark, of all times, but it looks too big. Your vision darkens, blurred green as you feel your hands, too cold, press into your sides, something rough wrap around a leg. Eyes find yours, more green swimming against pale color and the hands start to yank, pulling you up through the water.
You want to see more, to figure out what has you — who saved you, but your vision finally darks, ringing worsening.
You're thirsty when you wake up.
They must have the window open, the saltiness of the air sheening your skin. The room’s silent when you wake up, deathly quiet. As if everyone had established an understood quiet game once you’d been situated into a bed. Your uncle is next to you, propped awkwardly in a chair and gripping at your hand.
Katsuki is behind him, leaned against the wall holding a box with a bow, one that looks suspiciously unlike anything he’d do. He’s the first to notice, straightening in his seat and nudging Kirisihma awake, with much more force than necessary — nearly pushing him from his chair, before moving to the bedside.
“You’re awake,” your uncle sounds out of breath, like he’d spent the entire morning pacing the floor. You wouldn’t have been surprised. Normally, you’d laugh at the observation — obvious — but your throat still aches and breathing hurts.
His palm finds your back when you sit up, coughs raking your lungs. It’s comforting, even if it does little to help, and you find yourself curling in on yourself. “You’re okay, everyone’s okay.”
Your hands fist into the back of his sweater, soft and loosely knitted. The iv aches at the movement and you finally look down at yourself. The skin of your arms seems greyer, as if the water had sucked the very warmth from you, and dry.
You recognize the hospital, you think, from the view. It’s a tiny little clinic downtown which can house a max ten patients at once. The room itself doesn’t feel much like a clinic, walls painted a warm green and gauzy curtains blowing over the opened window. Even the bedding, though spread over your usual hospital bed, comprises soft sheets topped with a worn patchwork quilt. It feels like you’ve fallen asleep on a friend's couch.
“Uh, I brought you flowers,” Kirishima was standing, now, though he looked incredibly out of place. He was wearing another cut off Hawaiian shirt, this time covered in pink and purple turtles, cradling a wilting bouquet of asters like a newborn. “It’s, uh,” he’s shuffling slightly as he stares down at the blooms, “they’re not really in season.”
You laugh a little, despite yourself, which he seems to take great pride in. Your uncle takes the bouquet from him and lets you dunk them in the little pitcher by your bed. “Thank you, Kiri. I love them.”
“I’m glad you’re okay.”
The little bit of laughter dies with the words. It’s as if something cold has slipped down your spine — you almost died. It’s a grim thought and your shoulders tighten at the memory.
You could’ve died.
Katsuki hasn’t looked at you yet, eyes locked on the little wrapped box in his hands. He rubs a thumb over the corner once more before finally handing it to you, “it’s, uh, brownies. I didn’t make ‘em but they’re still pretty good, I guess.”
That’s high praise, you think and if it didn’t hurt so much you’d laugh. “Tell them thank you, then.” He nods slightly, still picking at the beds of his nail. And you know what he’s thinking.
“Can I — uh, why don’t you and Kiri get me a new thing of water?” Both of them understand, you think, glancing between you and Katsuki, “since I’ve used mine as a vase.”
Katsuki doesn’t look at you until they’re gone, eyes red-rimmed and glossy, “real subtle, dumbass.”
“I wasn’t trying to be subtle.”
It’s quiet. Not that you expected him to talk first, but you’re still a little annoyed that he’s making you strain your throat this much, “Katsuki — ”
“I’m sorry.”
“What?” He’s staring at the floor again, voice so quiet you’re almost sure you missed it, “why? It’s not your fault.”
Bakugou stands suddenly, pushing himself from the rickety lawn chair, and you can see his jaw clench. “I was the one who made you come with me. I could have done it alone — I could have set those damn traps without you. But I made you come.”
“You didn’t make me do anything, Katsuki. And if I hadn’t gone, it could’ve been you that got swept off and then what? Who would’ve been able to get you out?” That was half the reason you’d gone to begin with. You never liked when your uncle went out by himself, let alone a less experienced sailor. “The storm came in quicker than it was supposed to, the sea got rougher than we expected. It’s not your fault, Katsuki, you can’t control the weather.”
He huffs, lifting a hand to scrub through his hair, and you realize you’ve won.
“Now, I do expect ice cream. And I don’t expect to pay for it.”
Katsuki barks a little laugh, “fine. But ya gotta promise not to try and drown yourself anymore.”
You hate that you need looking after, now. It’s minimal, really, considering you nearly died. But you were supposed to be looking after your uncle. Supposed to be making his recovery easier, not sitting on his couch with an icepack tucked against your ribs and earning sympathetic glances whenever he hobbled by the living room.
You hated it. You understood your resemblance, now.
Even though you’ve been cleared, now, your head still aches and your lungs sting with every intake of breath. It’s miserable, feeling so helpless.
The walk to the beach is easy, second nature by now, and you let your feet drag through the sand. The little rock path to the cove isn’t covered, letting the full force of the sun beat down on your neck and you can feel yourself already sweating. The glossy cover of the hardback book you brought along sticks to the underside of your arm and the oranges you’d picked up the week before were already sweating.
Summer hasn’t quite taken over the town, yet. Still too early to be peak tourist season but you can’t help thinking the beach does look a little picturesque — like something you’d see on a cheap motel postcard.
Finding a tree nestled between the rocks, you settle into the plushness of towels and cool sand. The ocean’s slow today, waves lapping against the rocks and pulling at the shore.
This is what your summer break was supposed to be — easy, slow, boring. You were supposed to be able to lounge on the warm sand you hate, read your novel, one about runaway lovers, and peel your oversized oranges Kiri’d made you take.
It’s odd to hear the ocean be natural background noise. You’d been so used to hearing it over a speaker, distorted, then the easy hiss of waves crashing melts comfortably against your skin.
The sound nearly lulls you to sleep, head lolling to rest against the tree's smooth trunk, until you hear a splash — heavy and loud and too close.
You sit up, a book falling from your lap, and see a flash of green — a fish? But it sounded large, larger than anything should be so close to the rocks. Pompano’s are green, but those are deepwater game fish and they weren’t that big.
You’re beginning to wish you’d stayed on the mainland and hadn’t ventured out into the cove. You eye the place where the shores connect, now totally submerged by the tide. Dumb.
“Maybe it’s friendly,” you don’t sound convinced, “most fish are skittish, anyways.”
And so you let yourself relax, settling back against the sand. You can’t keep fearing the ocean, you’ve built your whole future around the sea and you can’t let it be ripped away now.
You're not sure why the noise — a soft little blurb, like a buoy had surfaced quietly, made you look up but it did. At first you see only seaweed — dark green and soft floating amongst the waves — but then you recognize bright eyes and damp curls, clinging to sun-kissed cheeks and nose bridge.
“Hey,” the word comes out fumbled, unsure and a little dumb. You don’t remember anyone being out here or seeing a pile of someone’s belongings on your walk over. So… where did he come from? “I -”
Whatever you were planning on saying frizzles up and dies in your throat when you see it, a tail — at least five feet, maybe more, long curls over the water. It’s the same green you’d seen, paler than his hair but richer than any fish you’d ever seen. The fins, spindly stalks ending in a wide lobe, remind you of a glauert's seadragon.
You scuttle back a step when he moves further out of the water, pulling up onto one of the exposed rocks. “I’m glad you’re okay,” his voice is softer than you’d expected and he looks incredibly non-threatening with his chin perched on his own folded arms, “I was worried you’d gotten too deep.”
“So it was you, then.” His head tilts, and you clarify, “in the water, that pulled me up.”
His tail whips through the water, like he’s pleased, “of course! I was worried, your boat was the only one out on the water.”
You move a little closer, butt-shuffling until the water starts to lap at your skin again. His eyes follow you, zeroing in on everywhere the waves hit before finding your face again. He seems like he’s looking for something, checking for a sign of… something hidden in your expression.
“So… you’re… a mermaid?”
He smiles, then, all sunny and dimpled and cheeks rounding up, “yeah! But Izuku’s my name, please.”
It’s pretty, you think. Suits him. He’s still looking at you, this time brows raised expectantly. You’re about to question it when it hits you, a soft little oh before giving him your own name.
He smiles again, warmth spreading over the apples of his cheeks, and he tests the name on his tongue. The sound tightens your chest and spreads warmth to the very tips of your fingers. You like it.
His — Izuku’s — brows pinch as he spots something behind you. Looking over your shoulder you notice it. The unpeeled oranges.
“Oh, are you hungry?”
“Hm, oh! No, I just… I’ve never seen anything that looked like that before,” he lifts himself off his arms and you notice his hands for the first time, dark and short claws curling into the rock. “What’s it taste like?”
You turn, dragging the little knapsack to you and carefully peeling the fruit. Izuku watches you the entire time, wide green eyes rapt. Like he’s never seen something so interesting.
“Here!” Izuku takes the slice delicately with his knuckles, claws tucked into his palm and his nose scrunches cutely.
“It’s… squishy.”
“It’s supposed to be, it’s fruit — most of it’s squishy.”
When he finally eats it, after some overly thorough sniffing, his eyebrows pinch together. It’s almost humorous how you can see the flurry of emotions which overtake him — disgust, confusion, then interest — before his face softens back out, “I… I like it. I think.”
You snort, which makes his attention snap back to you and his smile returns tenfold. “It’s spicy but like… in a sweet way.” A laugh breaks free before you can stop it. Sour would be better, you think, but you also suppose you don’t know what anything in the ocean tastes like.
You gasp. He does.
“Wait! You’re a mermaid, right?”
“Uh, yes- yeah, I am.”
It’s like it only just hit you, that you’re only just able to connect the dots, “That’s! Oh my god, what’s it like? The ocean?” You barely give Izuku the time to breathe, “what do you eat? Is there… is there a government? Do you migrate — oh, oh, how deep can you swim?”
Izuku looks startled, completely lifted off his arms and staring at you with parted lips, “I… it’s warm and incredibly full of life.” You scoot towards him, nodding quickly, “I usually eat fish, stuff that’s already in the ocean. I like crab a lot, which is why I’m usually so close to crabbing boats.” His flush has worsened a little and he’s staring determinedly down at the rock, like he’s reading from a script. “I can’t swim all that deep down, the pressure gets really bad and it’s too cold for me.”
“We have a King, but it’s not really decided by blood, it's just whoever is the most capable!” Izuku’s looking at you know, propped up on his elbows, “which is a really good system, I think! Helps keep corruption out of power and the King right now is so good! You’d love him, I bet. He’s the coolest.” He seems to realize the rambling, but you only urge him to continue, “some of us migrate, but it’s more a personal choice! I had a friend that moved further south last year, but we’re not like turtles or anything.”
“That’s so cool,” you're not really talking to him anymore — voice so quiet only you can really hear yourself, “it’s like a mini-society.” You scoot closer to the ocean, “is there, like, species of mermaid? Like freshwater, saltwater, deep water ones?”
He nods and you notice his hair has dried, green curls bouncing with the movement, “mhm, the deep-sea ones barely ever get spotted though! They have their own little world down there, I bet.”
The idea conjures a, arguably, fantastical image in your mind. The haunting appearance of all those deep-sea fish science has captured projected onto human forms. Bioluminescent mermaids whose skin is so light it’s nearly see-through, showcasing glowing veins and bones. Mermaids with dangerous teeth and long claws dug into the wreckage they call home.
You haven’t noticed the tide rising, water now gently lapping at your hips instead of your thighs until Izuku says something, “you probably shouldn’t be in the water — it’s late.”
Something odd is lurking in his eyes as he watches the water lap at your clothes and you nod, “yeah — yeah I should check on my uncle. Make sure he hasn’t strained himself.”
You feel his eyes on your back the entire time you're packing up, tracking your every move, until you’ve crossed the quickly vanishing bridge from the mainland to the cove. Izuku’s still perched on the rock, chin resting on his arms in a deceptively lax position. You can tell he’s alert.
“I’ll — I’m gonna come back, okay?” He seems to shake whatever had bothered him earlier off, grinning brightly.
The walk back to your Uncle’s house is quiet. You can’t help but think about Izuku and the look on his face. It was like he was… worried about the water touching you, like he didn’t like you sitting in it. And the way he’d watched you until you were back on dry land. Like he wanted to shelter you.
You see Izuku practically every day after that. After getting your uncle situated for the day and running whatever errands Katsuki needed help with, you’d make your trek down to the cove.
He tells you more about the ocean and starts bringing you gifts. Little things, usually, broken shark teeth and full sand dollars. You start bringing him different foods, mostly sweet fruits or fluffy breads.
Izuku asks a lot of questions, you learn. You also learn he’s not the biggest fan of citrus, preferring the muted sweetness of a mango or peach. Though you also quickly learn to remove the pits before he gets ahold of them so he doesn’t attempt to split them on his molars.
The little walk to the cove has become routine, by now, despite being thwarted by thickets and grass, you find it easy to navigate. Your bag has a combination of kiwis — which you don’t expect Izuku to like — and mangoes, covered by a soft beach towel from when you were young.
Izuku’s there when you arrive, perched on top of a large smooth rock close to the water's edge and fiddling with something in his hands. It looks large, from where you are, and pale.
He jumps when you settle beside him, fingers tightening around the object — a shell — before he relaxes. Izuku says your name like a laugh, “you startled me.” His grip on the shell loosens and you can make out the details. It’s a conch, a beautiful swirl of pink and burnt orange and nearly half the length of his forearm. It’s beautiful.
Izuku notices your stare and holds the shell up, nodding to you, “I found this the other day and I thought you might like it.” He barely lets you process the words before his breath stutters, “you, um, you don’t have to keep it or anything! You could give it to one of your friends or sell it or anything! It just made me think of you. Not that I. Not that I think of you.”
“Izuku,” you breathe, voice heavy with mirth and adoration, “I love it. It’s so pretty.” The fins on his tail shiver against the rocks when you take it and the blush coating his cheeks deepens. “Thank you.”
He doesn’t respond, not verbally, but his tail curls up against your thigh and the fins protruding from soft curls flatten against his head. Izuku’s eyes alight and he preens under the attention, shuffling even closer. He mumbles something under his breath and you have to lean in to catch even a word of it.
You make a quiet hm? in an attempt to have him repeat it, occupying your hands with running over the notches of the shell in your lap. He jumps again when he glances at you, like he’s surprised that you’re still perched on the rock next to him.
“I,” clawed fingers flex against your calf as he stares, lip caught between his teeth, “I wanna show you something. Next time you come.”
“Oh,” you’re not really sure why you’re surprised, “like underwater?” He nods earnestly, lip still caught between sharp teeth. Your hand curls over his own, fingers slotting together, “I’d love to, Izuku. I’ll dig my old snorkeling equipment out tonight.”
He lets out a breath, shoulders sagging as he melts into your side, “thank you.” Izuku makes a soft noise, low and rough like a purr, when your thumb rubs against his knuckles.
“I have more fruit.” You say it more as a distraction, a way to ignore the puffs of air against your throat, “mangoes and kiwi’s this time.”
“Kiwi?” His head lolls against your shoulder until he can look up at you.
“It’s kinda like… an apple and an orange mixed together,” you fumble. How are you supposed to describe the taste of something to someone whose pallet is so narrow? “Like, the same texture as an apple but a little softer and a little more citrusy.”
His nose scrunches up and you laugh, “I didn’t think you’d like them all too much. But I figured you could eat the mangoes.”
You take to digging through your bag, his chin still balanced on your shoulder. The three fruits you’d brought are still cool from the grocer, sweating slightly in the sun. You’ve gotten good at cubing the fruits without anything to cut against, prying the pits from the cloying flesh. Though you suppose you’re entertaining any easy audience since Izuku usually eats fish straight from the sea.
It’s easy to melt into the familiarity, no matter how odd the situation really is, of being around Izuku. You should probably still be weirded out by him — you’ve only known him for a couple weeks — but it feels right. Spending your day laid out on sun-baked rocks eating cooled fruit feels somewhat… inevitable.
The moment’s interrupted by a noise, heavy footfalls which sends Izuku shooting up and pushing himself halfway into the water. His hand curls against your ankles and a sound, low and crackly — a hiss — you realize, erupts from the back of his throat.
Then a head of blonde hair, spiky and soft, emerges from the trees. “Katsuki?”
“Kacchan?” You don’t have time to question why Bakugou’s here, too focused on the recognition in Izuku’s voice. The nickname, you assume, sounds too personal and you’re so confused.
Katsuki ignores him, staring pointedly at you, “your uncle needs ya. Now.”
Izuku’s still halfway in the water, fins pressed flat against his temples and claws dug deep within the rock. You apologize quietly as you gather your things, eyeing Katsuki over your shoulder.
The walk back into town was quiet again. Unnervingly so as Katsuki was determined to keep his eyes locked on the ground in front of him. You do the same, just to avoid the question, and interestingly sand looks the same in every single spot you check. Cool.
“So,” you start to regret the words before you even speak them, “you, uh, you already knew about mermaids, then?”
He grunts in a way you take to mean ‘yes’ and you continue, “so did you know that’s what happened that night, then? Why I ended up close enough to the boat for you to be able to get to me?”
Another grumble.
“So… how’d you… how’d you meet?” Katsuki would’ve been the last person on the island you thought knew about mermaids. Denki maybe, who’d tried to convince you that every minor problem the town faced was aliens. Or even Eijirou who was so open-minded sometimes you worried about him catching flies.
He sighs heavily. It was a fair question all things considered. “You’re not the first one in town to get swept off a fuckin’ boat.” A muscle in his jaw spasms, “and you’re not the first one that dumbass has rescued.”
Katsuki stops talking after that, like he answered your question in any way satisfactorily. Then, he scrubs a hand over his face — pressing so hard against his eyes you think he’s trying to dig them out — before scoffing, “Just. Just don’t leave the fuckin’ beach without him around, alright?”
“Katsuki, I can swim, you know? I’m not a child.”
He pointedly ignores you, “alright?”
“Fine.”
“Planning on snorkeling later?” Your uncle’s gotten better, only needing a walking stick to be able to move around the house. You worry less about him now, too. “Didn’t know you still had those.”
“Yeah, I saw something at the cove yesterday,” you smile. It’s not a total lie, at least.
He chuffs a laugh, turning the heat down on his bacon, “you remember how much you’d begged for us to finally take you? You hated being under. Had to hold you above the surface so you could just put the mask in.”
You do. You’d always had a weird relationship with the ocean — you loved the idea of it, what it held, but were terrified of the power. The destruction you’d seen it cause to not only the village itself but the people within.
“Didn’t stop coming, though. You’re stubborn,” he turns to wink, “get that from me.”
The flippers don’t fit into your bag, bright green ends pressing against your arm and squishing the plums you’d bought yesterday. It’s earlier in the day than normal — sun not as bright and the sand cool beneath your feet.
Izuku’s waiting for you when you, his tail cutting impatiently through the water, when you finally arrive at the little cove. He schools his expression when he sees you, lifting out of the water with a bright smile and calling your name. “You came!”
“Of course I did! I promised, didn’t I?” He makes room for you on the rock, watching as you work the bright rubber flippers onto your feet. They’re uncomfortable and you can feel sand clinging to the sides of your feet.
“I was just… worried.” There’s an underlying tone that makes you think he’s not talking about you showing up. That he’s talking about this is—the water—what he’s worried about. “It’s not too far, promise.”
You’re not convinced he’s really telling you, more a reassurance for himself. But all the same, you smile down at him, “I trust you, Izuku.”
He seems to relax at that, hands coming to brace your shins as you scoot closer to the stone’s edge. It is a little unnerving, being in the water again, but not so bad with him there. His palm slides up your leg, clawed hand curving over your hip—bracing you—as you finally shimmy down the rock.
Izuku’s hand moves to the back of your head when you start to sink, cradling your skull as a wave pushes you back against the rock. “Careful,” he murmurs. He doesn’t let you go once you’re fully in the water, tucking you easily in the crook of his arm and helps you slip the mask over your face.
The water’s colder than you’d hoped, shudders racking you and you press closer into his side, “thank you.”
He swallows, visibly, and you can feel the anxious squirm of his tail against your leg before he settles. You float there, your back still pressed against the rock, for a moment before he grins again. Izuku’s grip tightens minutely before he lowers himself in the water, “ready?”
The flippers make it easier to keep up with him—a feat made even easier as Izuku refuses to let go of your hand, pulling you close to his side—and it doesn’t take much to reach what Izuku had wanted to show you.
There’s a reef, bright and colorful, just beyond the cove. The water’s colder there and bluer. The floor is covered in life, thickets of seaweed and bright clusters of pink and orange coral. The fish are smaller, but colorful and they don’t seem to fear Izuku when he pulls you in.
He still never lets go of your hand, following close behind you whenever you need to breathe. Izuku’s smile hasn’t left either—dimpled even as he watches you bob with the waves, wiping at the air slicking against your forehead.
You take to following him, cutting languidly through the water as he shows off his tiny world: bright pink plates of encrusting and fish no bigger than your palm. It’s not the first time you’ve seen it, of course, but it feels like you’re seeing it differently.
You’re grinning when you break the surface, pulling your mask up your forehead and hands gripping at Izuku’s forearms, “that’s so cool, ‘zuku.” The taste of salt is heavy on your tongue, clinging to your teeth but you don’t mind.
Izuku grins, the fins buried in green curls twist forwards, “good?”
“So good! I forgot how pretty the reefs out here are. I’m so glad you brought me,” he preens under the attention and you can feel his tail brush against your calf. You think he’s going to say something when he stops, staring at something over your shoulder, and gasps.
“One more,” his hands curl around your wrists and tug you forwards, following whatever he’d seen in the water. You have half a mind to try and slip the snorkel over your face but you don’t. You trust him.
He stops a little ways away, pulling you against him and staring down in the water, “look.”
Your grip on his arms tighten when you do—a large manta ray is below you. It’s moving slowly, wings cutting lazily through the water barely a foot beneath when you’re floating. There’s a few more of them, deeper in the water, below it and you watch as they glide easily through the waves.
You laugh, quiet and startled, as you watch the creatures disappear from sight. The sound draws Izuku’s eyes to yours and he watches you for a moment. His hands move on your back, readjusting their grip and he knocks his head against your own, “ready?”
Your legs are screaming by the time Izuku’s leading you back to the cove. He seemed to have noticed you slowing, insisting you wrap your arms around his neck to let him pull you along.
The air feels colder after being submerged for so long, and you shiver against his back. Izuku’s breathing is odd. You’ve always noticed it, it’s so much slower than your own, but the feeling’s soothing. You start to count them in your mind, letting your cheek rest against his shoulder as he moves.
You barely notice that you’ve gotten back to the cover or that he’s started to move you. You follow him sleepily, letting him tuck your head under his chin and legs into the crook of his arm.
He hoists you up onto the same rock you’d sat on before, slipping the rubber flippers off you. You don’t expect him to follow after you, arms on either side of you and hips framed by your knees, “did you like it?”
“I did,” you hum and tuck a drying curl behind his ear, “it was beautiful.”
Izuku grins again, so bright your chest tightens, and leans to press his forehead against yours. You feel his lips skim your cheek when he finally parts from you and slips back into the cove.
You wish you’d thought about this more—the inevitable—before you forced yourself to confront it. You’d always been meant to stay for just the summer. Help your uncle get back on his feet, enjoy the break before your semester started, and maybe figure out what you were going to study long term. You never planned on staying.
Izuku’s words replayed, the seemingly insignificant fact from when you’d first met. Most mermaids never left home. He’d spent his entire life here. You didn’t expect him to want to leave.
And how would that work, anyway? You didn’t think he’d enjoy living in your bathtub nor do you think you’d be able to get him back home without more than a few questions.
So the conversation had to happen. You just wish you’d prepared better. Or at least not keep avoiding it.
Izuku had started sunning with you. You’d spread out your plush towels by the water’s edge and he’d flop next to you, squinting at the sun and pressing himself into your side. It was easy, nice. And incredibly hard to think about leaving.
You’re sunning now, Izuku’s face tucked against your collarbone and curls dried against your jaw. His breath warms your neck, spreading across your chest.
“Izuku?” He hums, fins twitching minutely, “do you think about the future?” You can feel his brow crinkle and have to fight yourself from smoothing it out with your thumb. “Like… what-”
You’re not sure how to ask. How do you tell him you’re leaving, that you were never here for long and your time has more than run out.
“Are you okay?” He’s propped himself up on flat palms, peering down at you, lip caught between his teeth, “what’s wrong?”
You regret bringing it up, wishing you could sink into the very sand and never emerge. But you can’t. And you can’t keep putting off this conversation. “Summer’s almost over,” you sigh.
Izuku’s head tilts, confusion washing over him before it hits. Oh. You’re leaving. His bottom lip escapes his teeth, wobbling slightly, and he pushes himself further away, “you’re leaving?” You don’t say anything—afraid the burning in your eyes will spill over—but you nod. “When?”
Your breath is shaking when you answer, “in the morning.”
You can see the words hit him, his shoulders sloping and tears bubbling to the surface. Izuku stares at you for a moment and you can feel his slow breathing speed, tears finally spilling over freckled cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, thumbing the tears from his face and pressing your forehead to his, “I have to go back to school and my uncle’s healed but I, I’ll visit.” You’re crying, too now. “I’ll come back every break if you want me too, I promise.”
Your throat burns as you look at him, he looks so distraught. You want to fix it, but there’s nothing you can do.
“I’m sorry, Izuku.” Your thumbs continue to wipe at his cheeks, ignoring your own tears, “I wish there was a way—but I can’t. There’s nothing I can do, I can’t stay here and—”
“And I can’t leave.” Izuku’s voice is brittle when he speaks, waterlogged. You hate it.
Your forehead knocks against his, nose nudging his own, and your arms drag him down against you, “I’ll come back, I promise, anytime you want me to.” The words come out weaker than you’d hope and you hope your actions are stronger, fingers tangling in his hair. “I wish I could take you with me.”
He tenses, breathing evening out suddenly. Your phone buzzes from the beach and you glance at it, “it’s probably my uncle.” You smooth a hand over his cheek, “I’ll figure something out.” Something odd has overtaken his expression, the sureness he had before he’d given you the shell or asked to show you something new—determination.
You gather your towels quickly, avoiding the water and Izuku’s heavy eyes. You know you’ll stay if you look.
You almost leave the shell. It’s the very last thing you pack, sitting on your windowsill beside a vase of dried flowers. It’d be easier to leave everything, you think. Bury it in your childhood chest of drawers and forget this break ever happened.
But you can’t. So you wrap the shell in a soft sweater and tuck it into a corner of your suitcase.
The bags a lot fuller leaving than it was when you first arrived. Stuffed with all the little shells Izuku’d given you and the small crate of creamy chocolate bars Kiri had insisted you keep to “remember him” by. He and Sero had also surprised you with an armful of hawaiian shirts, every single one already had their sleeves cut off for you. “Saving you time!” Sero had declared when you’d sighed heavily.
You still pack them.
You’ve cleared out everything but the tiny closet when you hear your uncle talking to someone. He sounds pleased, someone he knows then, and you only recognize the second voice when they’re at your door. Katsuki.
The door is pushed open, revealing a disarrayed Katsuki whose comically out of breath, gripping your doorknob and grabbing at your forearm.
“What happened? Are you okay?”
He ignores you, pulling you out the door and down the stairs. Yanking at his fingers accomplishes very little, and complaining about your incomplete packing seems to make his grip tighten.
“Katsuki! What’s wrong?” You dig your heels into the ground, finally becoming a big enough resistance for him to huff and turn to you.
“The cove.” Izuku.
Your breath catches and you let him pull you quicker, mind racing. Is he hurt? Did something happen? You’d seen him a few hours ago, how’d it happen that quickly?
The water’s empty and still when you finally breach the trees. And you fist at Katsuki’s sleeve. Then, you see him. He’s bundled up in a towel near the shore, curls damp and dark against his forehead. “Izuku,” you gasp. You notice the lack of fins first, nothing but achingly human ears protruding from his hair, then the fact that the beach towel ends in feet, pruned from the water.
He smiles when he sees you, pained but still achingly bright and you choke on a sob, scrambling to kneel in front of him. He catches you easily, melting into your arms as soon as they find their way around him.
Your heart is still beating against your ribs as you cup his face, running your thumb over the curve of his cheek to collect the tears and saltwater. The absence of his tail becomes glaringly obvious when he shuffles closer to you, knees knocking against your own. “Izuku…why did you… what did you do?”
He shakes his head softly, curls dragging against your cheek as his nose presses into yours, “doesn’t matter.”
You laugh, bright and relieved, and he pulls you further against his chest. His lips skate across the curve of your cheek before his mouth meets yours, chaste and sweet. His arms wrap around your waist as blunt hands curl into the back of your shirt. You can feel his heart beating beneath your palm, skin warm and sticky with the sea.
He noses at your temple when you part, sighing softly, “I, uh, I can go with you, now.” He says it a little hopefully, like you’d ever say no and you nod hurriedly.
“Of course you can, ‘zuku,” nuzzling into his palms, “you’re gonna be hard-pressed to get rid of me.”
premise. perhaps in your last life, you wished for an extraordinary romance; a once-in-a-lifetime encounter, a dashing prince to kiss your hand, and an eternal love that could only be found in fairy tales. now, as you acknowledge that this story is not yours, your greatest desire is to remain out of the limelight while you watch your dearest protagonist twirl in the ballroom with the man of her dreams.
and just like every other time, fate has other plans.
word count. 7.8k
note. i honestly thought i wouldn't be able to finish this, but here we are. i hope you enjoy!
“The duke of Marechaussee is looking for a bride!”
The news spread far and wide, each new piece of gossip shared through word of mouth more convoluted than the last. But the gist of it essentially remains true—the reputable head of the most prestigious duchy in Fontaine, Neuvillette, whose abstinence from marriage had nobles speculating his intentions to practice celibacy, has now unfounded those rumors.
For others, this is an opportunity. For you, this is a cause for a headache.
Let's have a brief recount of your second life thus far. Ten years ago, you found yourself in a body that was not yours, one that was far too dainty and sickly for your liking. You were born to a powerful aristocratic family, your father bearing the title of Marquess. It was your greatest joy to find this new family of yours was loving and affectionate, bursting into tears of relief upon your return to consciousness the very first time you opened your eyes in this world. You were told you had nearly fallen to disease, and your parents spared no effort in finding the most knowledgeable doctors across the continent. Their embrace was incredibly warm, hands clutching your small body so tightly as if once they let go, you would be lost to the winds.
And, well. As far as you’re concerned, it isn't the worst life to live in. Your eldest brother is almost overbearingly protective, but he’s beyond considerate and cared for you greatly. Your second brother isn't honest to a fault, and you heard he often played tricks on you before, but ever since your worst fit of sickness, he's been incredibly careful in his treatment around you.
Life passed peacefully like this, adored and doted on by your beloved family. To repay their kindness, you wish to aid your eldest brother in the future and pursue your studies, but your parents assure you you don't have to do anything you don't want—including being bound by marriage.
For any other aristocratic family, it is a daughter's duty to secure a beneficial relationship with other houses of similar prestige. But your family spoils you rotten, and they hold no greed; why would they wish for more power when they already have everything they could possibly want in the kingdom as a Marquess family?
It is for that reason you are able to avoid the biggest red flag that could potentially lead to your demise: the engagement with the House of Marechaussee.
With how much you used to read webtoons and played otome games with the “I died and woke up in the romance novel I used to read” premise, you aren't all that surprised to realize you found yourself in that very situation. What did surprise you is the lack of daddy issues, and how easy you have it as a villainess.
You woke up in the world of “My Royal Darling,” an otome game with a plot as creative as its title. Cliche as it is, you ate that shit up back in your previous life and knew the story like the back of your hand. Your character [Name] Silva mainly appeared in the duke's route, a villainess who loved him deeply for his kindness and gentleness beneath his cold facade. As far as villainesses went in this game, you are certainly not the worst; the girl in the prince's route actively schemed against the protagonist and received a befitting punishment as a result. The worst [Name] Silva did was beg her doting parents for an engagement with the duke and use her sick sob story to garner pity.
All you have to do is avoid the duke at all costs, and you won't be part of the drama at all.
...That was what you thought before you went ahead and befriended the protagonist. Goddamn it.
“The duke is searching for a bride-to-be. Can you believe it?” Lumine giggles in all her protagonist glory, twinkling laughter as pleasant as the song of birds. Her etiquette is impeccable as ever, starting from her straight posture down to the elegant curve of her fingers as she raises her cup to sip tea. Her dress is not nearly as intricate as yours, the difference between your status glaringly apparent, but it's easy to envision her as a perfect princess. It would soon come to reality, you realize.
“And because of that, just about every girl I know is flocking to tailor shops to prepare for the social season.” You grimace, picking up a chocolate cake from the cake tower laid before you. You are currently having tea with Lumine in your rose garden, a bi-monthly arrangement where you shared gossip and traded information. “I fear I will be ridiculed for not following the latest trends soon. All of the shops are probably too busy to accommodate my order.”
“You must be joking. Who would dare refuse you?” Lumine shakes her head. “And even if they dressed up to the nines for the duke, they couldn't possibly compare to you.”
“I'm not trying to gain his favor,” you counter, poking at a strawberry on your plate. “I simply want new additions to my wardrobe, and the banquet hosted by the imperial family is coming up soon. My parents indulge me, but even I can't skip out on it.”
To avoid the love interests as much as possible, you minimize the frequency you go out to parties. Using your weak constitution is enough of an excuse to decline the invitations that pour out in the mail each day. But refusing an invitation from the imperial family is equivalent to a death sentence to your social standing, and even the protectiveness of your older brothers couldn't spare you from that.
If you have it your way, you absolutely would not go. The royal ball is where the official story starts, the prologue to a fairytale romance. All the love interests will be present, and the routes will branch out according to who Lumine will choose to talk to. Though you have no idea who Lumine will pick and you’re certain you were already ruled out as a villainess character ever since you made yourself her close confidant, you don't want to take on any risks. Alas, reality is unkind. You suppose you'll just see it as an opportunity to see the drama up close.
“Forget me, do you already have something to wear?”
“That is...” Lumine appears to be forlorn. “I plan to wear a dress I've worn before. We deemed it more favorable than purchasing a new dress I'll only wear once in my life. Besides, I doubt anyone would remember me wearing it already.”
She places too much faith in people. Nobles thrive on gossip—they find every possible flaw in everyone to gain leverage over them, and you've seen them ridicule Lumine in the game enough times to know. As the daughter of a humble Baron, she's already being picked on by the upper ranking ladies. If she goes to the banquet hosted by the imperial family wearing a gown that's already fallen out of trend, you have no doubt she will be regarded with derision.
But you won't allow that to happen.
“Do you have time this afternoon?” You smile. Lumine tilts her head in confusion yet nods nonetheless. “Let's find you a dress in the commerce street. We'll test out that theory of yours that they won't refuse me.”
Immediately, her eyes widen. She knows what you're planning. This is far from the first time you would be treating her. “No, it's fine! We don't have to go there!”
“Oh, c'mon, Lumine. Your birthday is coming up. Just think of it as me giving you your birthday present a few weeks in advance.”
At that, her shoulders slump. This is not the first time, and so she knows well there's no arguing with you once you put your mind into something. “If you insist so much…” She tries for a grateful smile, but it looks more guilty. When will she accept that she deserves nice things like this and so much more?
Just like Lumine said, you shot up the priority list of the tailor shop without much of a fuss. You make her try on numerous dresses, forbidding the tailors from telling her how much they cost if she ever asks. You end up choosing a pale blue dress that accentuates her good figure and complements her skin, and you manage to grab a couple of matching jewelry when she isn't looking.
Hopefully soon, you think as you begin to scarf down what remains of the cake tower, eager to go shopping. If she goes with the prince route, he’ll give her an entire castle. I should probably tell her about that cage in the basement from the yandere bad ending, though.
Lumine looks good in everything anyway, so it isn't a very time-consuming affair. You even have some time left to check out the merchant stalls before curfew arrives and you have to send her to a carriage back home.
“I don't know about you, but I'm craving some donuts.” You're raring to go to the best bakery in town, and Lumine laughs at your eagerness. Your family never looked upon fried food kindly, and you only have a chance of eating them when you're not within their supervision.
“Aren't you full from the pastries we ate earlier?”
“Hardly.” You grab onto your inconveniently long dress, prepared to race. “Come on, Lumine, we better hurry up before they run out!”
In your haste however, you fail to notice a child walking towards the opposite direction as you. She crashes to your leg, the impact sending her to the ground. You gasp, wasting no time in crouching down to her eye level and helping her up, uncaring of how the hem of your dress slides against the dirty floor. “I'm terribly sorry! Are you hurt anywhere?”
You pat away the dirt on her skirt, searching for any sign of blood. “No, I'm okay! I'm sorry too, miss!” The girl does a little cute bow, one that would normally make you coo if only you didn't feel so guilty. When she gives you a reassuring toothy grin, eyes shining bright with innocence, you can't help but pat her on the head with your clean hand.
“Did you get lost? Where are your parents?” You bring out an embroidered handkerchief from your pocket, wiping her hands free of grime. Lumine scans the nearby area and notices a man running over.
“Mister!” The child exclaims happily, pointing at him. You look up at his direction, momentarily at ease, until you actually see who she's pointing to.
Apprehension pools at the pit of your stomach. The man is the very picture of someone that children should be taught to avoid. Draped in a dark cloak that conceals half of his face, his attire is practically the standard getup for kidnappers in an abduction scene, the type that says cheesy lines like “hand over the gold or I'll kill your girl right now” and ends up getting decked in the face by the prince that saves the heroine.
Before you can say anything, the little girl runs toward him, her arms outstretched for an embrace. The man is quick to lean down and cradle her in his arms, reprimanding the girl for his carelessness. The severity of his words is utterly lost when he's too busy scanning the child's body up and down in search of any injuries to be intimidating.
“Didn't I tell you not to run? You could get into an accident,” the man admonishes gently as he uses the napkin in the girl's hands to wipe away the remaining dirt on her palms. “Not everyone is as forgiving as this kind lady. Did you apologize to her?”
“No, it's fine, it was my fault,” you interject, doing a quick curtsy reflexively. “I got too excited about buying donuts that I wasn't paying enough attention to my surroundings.”
The man pauses when he gets a good look at you, making you shrink to yourself. You put on commoner clothes to blend with the crowd better, but you wonder if you have something incriminating of your status on you.
“Did you get hurt?”
You blink at the unexpected question. How could bumping into a tiny child cause you any injury? “...Not at all.”
His lips curl into a smile, still visible under the shadows of his robe. “Then that's a relief. We apologize for this incident. I'm sorry to cut this conversation short, but I'm afraid we have somewhere to be.”
“Oh, of course!” You laugh awkwardly, raising a hand to wave at the child. “Be safe on the way there.”
The older man bows his head and the little girl yells an endearing “farewell!” as she's carried away by her guardian, spinning on his heel to turn to their destination.
In doing so, you catch a glimpse of the ornate sword strapped to his waist. A silver dragon wraps around the hilt, its scales gleaming under the sun. The sapphires in its eyes are a deep blue, the color as vibrant as the sea, a contrast to the dull shade of its scabbard.
You swear you've seen that sword before.
“[Name], we should hurry. The sun will set soon.” Lumine snaps you out of your thoughts, reminding you of the direness of the situation.
“The lady was really pretty!” The little girl—Mamere—begins to ramble as she fiddles with the handkerchief you left her. She's walking on her own now, but the man makes sure to match her slower pace. “I thought she would get mad when I bumped into her, but her voice was so nice and soft. And she patted my head!”
“My donuts!”
“She was very kind,” the man agrees, remembering the genuine worry on your face when Mamere fell to the ground.
“But what do I do?” Mamere pouts, staring at the intricate embroidery on the napkin. “I don't know how to return this to her.”
Her companion hums. “I don't think she's expecting you to return it. Didn’t she give it to you?”
“But I feel bad…” Mamere admires the careful stitching, her fingers lightly tracing its shape. “It looks so beautiful… she must've worked hard in embroidering it, didn't she?” Suddenly, her eyes sparkle with realization, an idea popping into her mind. “Mister, if it's you, you can return it to her, right?”
The older man blinks. “I suppose so. However-”
The girl offers the handkerchief to him. “Please give this to her when you see her, Mister!”
Conflicted, he stares down at Mamere, but he eventually folds when she puts on her best puppy dog eyes. He takes the handkerchief from her hands, his thumb brushing over the meticulous embroidery.
Only a fool wouldn’t recognize the insignia of the Silva House.
A strong gust of wind pulls down the hood of his cloak, revealing long hair the color of moonlight. The golden hue of the sunset basks his pale skin in a bright glow, his eyes soft as he gazes upon the handkerchief.
“I have a good idea when I may see her next,” Neuvillette assures Mamere, causing her smile to brighten even more.
All too soon, the day of the imperial banquet arrives.
Though whether she wants to see me or not is a different matter.
Natully, your escort to the event is none other than your protective second brother, but you'd argue he's a better choice over the eldest who'd probably glare daggers at anyone who comes within five meters of your vicinity. It's not even like you have other men in your life aside from your family and the knights at your service.
You intend to appear as inconspicuous as possible, but the nobles' curious gazes still follow after your shadow. Consequences of your actions, you suppose. You managed to dodge that eventful first meeting with Duke Neuvillette since you knew you would bump into him at a social gathering, but you had to go through the extra mile to avoid attending every party you could skip because the game was so goddamn vague and only described the scene as “The lady of House Silva fell in love with the duke the moment her eyes landed upon him at a banquet.”
Thanks to that, you’re rarely seen by nobility and thus attained a ridiculous nickname along the lines of “the precious flower of Silva” for being thoroughly pampered by your family, hidden from the rest of the world. Embellished tales of your beauty spread across society, and you can only hope they weren't disappointed to see the real thing in the flesh.
Damn it, you think grimly, the downturn of your lips hidden beneath the intricate fan you've taken to using in order to hide your expression. It's hard to approach the buffet table when they're all staring at me like this.
Truthfully, you’re grateful all they're doing is staring. If not for your eldest brother’s protectiveness, you’re sure more than a crowd of men would be vying for your hand in marriage, flooding your house with mail and wedding offers. Your second brother is not so fortunate, pinned by pointed stares from all sides by unwed women waiting for the right moment to pounce on him.
He pinches the edge of your sleeve before you can attempt to sneak your way towards the buffet table. “And where exactly are you going?” Amazingly enough, his pleasing smile doesn't falter even as he grumbles out his admonishment, still as flawless as ever.
“To eat. The catering is wasted on you socialites, no one bothers to take a bite just to talk to other people.” You’ve learned a thing or two from your brothers, and so your own polite smile doesn't twist into something more fitting for the tone of your voice.
His mouth opens again, definitely some spiel about how you should try making other connections because as much as Lumine is pleasant company, she will not be of any help to your trading endeavors, but a girl adorned in frilly lace tries her luck in hitting on him and you slip away when he's not looking.
As expected, the feast on the buffet table is untouched. You help yourself to a few plates, searching for Lumine all the while. As per true protagonist fashion, she’ll arrive fashionably late at the banquet and bring attention to herself when the grand doors reveal her in a stunning dress. Had you not intervened, she would've gotten a pretty dress some way or another anyway—it’s bound by the law of the universe. In the original game, she helped an old lady cross the street and she turned out to be the owner of a high-end boutique.
But time goes by with no sight of familiar blond locks, and you’re getting pretty full from the steak served. You’re thinking about going to your brother to spare him from the women when someone approaches you, a series of footsteps gradually becoming more audible—from a respectable distance, of course, but near enough to know they came with a purpose. You stop yourself from sighing, taking a moment to collect yourself and school your expression into something more elegant.
Your efforts are rendered useless when your jaw immediately drops upon seeing the figure of the very person you were trying to avoid.
Are you fucking kidding me?!
Standing before you is Neuvillette himself, the crowd behind him parted like the Red Sea. He’s finely dressed, crisp suit accented with his House’s signature colors blue and gold, and his long hair is fashioned into a low ponytail that rests on the side of his chest. His intimidating air rivals that of the royal family, a commanding presence that drives people to bow to him at once. Yet this time, the crowd instead unashamedly stares at the spectacle the pair of you must make, both parties that are often absent in galas now crossing paths.
The etiquette lessons hammered into your body makes you curtsy in a show of respect, starkly contrasting the crude expletives roaring in your head as your eyes lock onto a vague figure behind him. It’s hard to meet his eyes. “Good evening, Your Grace. I believe this is our first encounter.” But I worked really hard to make it never happen, you know?!
In turn, Neuvillette bows his head in greeting. “Indeed. I’ve heard much about my lady, so I am glad I have the opportunity to meet you at last.”
The smile on your face twitches, the fabric between your fingers wrinkling under your tightening grip. “Pardon?”
“Your older brother is quite fond of you. He’s been telling me stories of your family whenever we have tea.”
Which brother is he talking about???
If it was your eldest brother, he would at least take care not to harm your clean reputation, but his gushing about his cute younger sister could be embarrassing. However, if it was your much more tactless, stupid brother who still holds a grudge over you eating the last tea cake given by foreign ambassadors from a neighboring country, he’d probably tell Neuvillette everything that would make your “precious flower of Silva” title entirely undeserving.
“A… haha… is that so…” you begin fanning yourself harder, trying to keep your nervous sweating at bay. Neuvillette turns his head, looking around your surroundings.
“I believe you were escorted by your brother. Is he preoccupied?”
The corner of your mouth curls into a slight smirk. “Certainly. Women have been trying to pique his interest since the banquet began.”
At that, Neuvillette’s smile turns wry. You’re sure he relates to that a little too much, the poor guy. Even at this very moment, there are countless women observing the situation, attempting to find the right chance to jump in the conversation and steal him away. Though you do feel bad for him, you’re also wishing to find a good opportunity to leave without looking rude. After all, in the possibility that Lumine happens to like him, you’d soon be acquainted with him as his significant other’s closest friend.
Just as you’re cheering on a lady that’s beginning to approach the duke, he starts speaking. “If that’s the case…” Bowing once more, he outstretches his arm gracefully, offering his hand. The sight looks like a sparkling CG, and you’re not sure if the flowers surrounding him are really there or if you're starting to hallucinate. “Would my lady mind if I escorted you for the time being?”
Your fanning hand comes to a sharp halt. “Pardon?” you say for a second time, sounding more disbelieved than the last.
“I happen to be in a similar predicament as your brother,” his voice lowers to a hushed tone. “Though we haven’t known each other for long, I hope you can lend me a hand.”
Why is this happening to me…
And as if his pleading tone isn’t enough, he tops it off with a charming smile truly befitting a love interest in a dating simulator. “I’d also like to take this opportunity to be closer to you, my lady.”
--
You bite back the urge to sigh, lest Neuvillette think you thought he was an utter bore as a dance partner. Really, he’s nothing like that–there’s no way getting to see that handsome face up close could ever be boring. He’s a nice partner, actually; he leads the dance in a way that makes you comfortable, and you’re no dance prodigy, but you feel like you can close your eyes and dance just as well as long as you follow his lead.
Another point of thrill is the incessant glares you can feel on your back. Truly, Neuvillette’s more ambitious fans are terrifying. As the one in charge of the territory covering the boundary between the kingdom and the land of monsters, Neuvillette must be used to frightening creatures, but lovesick women must be a whole ‘nother terror for him altogether for him to ask for your help to avoid them.
Still…
He’s the only person I’m trying to avoid at this place, and now I’m dancing with him. Haha. What am I even doing here?
You feel him squeeze your hand softly. “Is something on your mind?” Neuvillette’s voice breaks you out of your trance. You look up at him, noticing he looks worried.
“I apologize. I wasn’t paying attention.” You shake your head, giving him a small grin.
He frowns. “It’s not that. If you feel tired or unwell, please tell me.”
“I’m fine! Very much so!” You suddenly feel bad for cursing him, albeit indirectly, in your head. You understand why the original villainess liked him so much, but you should avoid interacting with him unless strictly necessary… once this dance ends. “I must say, Your Grace has quite the number of admirers. This is the first time I’ve been stared at so intensely by a crowd of women.”
He hums thoughtfully as you twirl away from him as part of the step sequence, and he catches your waist with ease when you return. “I could say the same for you. Gentlemen we pass by have been eyeing me with hostility ever since we started dancing.”
“What?” You look around the ballroom, making a sound of surprise when you see multiple nobles eyeing Neuvillette with some amount of envy and detestation. You’ve been so caught up with the attention Neuvillette’s been getting that you overlooked your share of trouble.
“The son of the viscount in particular seems to be the most eager to ask for a dance.” He averts his gaze to the man standing by the buffet table who’s been glaring at the pair of you pretty hard. Farthest thing from your type.
“I suppose I’ll have to find my brother when this song is over, then.”
Silence ensues in the remaining duration of the song, but it’s a comforting one. You’re not much of a talker anyway, and it’s hard to think of things to talk about when practically everyone in the audience is looking for a chance to steal both of you away from each other. Eventually, the last notes of the violin are played, and you finish the dance with bows of courtesy.
“Thank you for complying with my request.”
“It was nothing. I’m glad I could lend a hand.” Your eyes roam over the area, securing the shortest route to get to your brother. “Our encounter was brief, but you were truly pleasant company, Your Grace.”
You plan to leave it at that, the heel of your foot already spinning to turn in the opposite direction. Okay, good. That’s just an irregularity. It’s too bad I couldn’t completely avoid him, but as long as we don’t get too involved with each other, it should still be safe-
But then you feel a gentle hand wrap around the tips of your fingers. You turn back, the initial confusion wearing off to shock. Neuvillette is holding your hand. Neuvillette is holding your hand. Slowly, he brings it closer to his face, and for a moment, you think, Oh, his eyelashes are pretty long, before you feel him press a soft kiss on your knuckles.
You hear a gasp. Numerous, you correct yourself, on varying levels of shock. You hope that god-awful dramatic one didn’t come from you, but you aren’t too sure because the only things on your mind are Neuvillette’s hand around yours, his irresistible smile, and the words that leave his lips.
“If my lady doesn’t find my company disagreeable, would you consider meeting me on another occasion?”
In your time living as a noble, you’ve somewhat gotten used to speaking in formal language. In nobility terms, that’s basically Neuvillette asking you out on a date.
“...Pardon???”
Word spread quickly throughout the social network. That’s within expectations, knowing how nosy nobles can get. By the time the imperial banquet ended, everyone in attendance already heard that Neuvillette had taken interest in a woman, and that woman happened to be the daughter from the Silva family.
Objectively speaking, it isn’t a bad match. Both families have something to gain from a marriage union, which is why the original duke from the game agreed to the engagement in the first place.
Subjectively, however…
“I’ve gathered you all here today to have an important discussion.”
Presently, you are situated at the family dining table. As usual, there’s a heavenly feast spread out on the table, but all the food remains uneaten because there’s apparently a more pressing matter at hand.
“...The duke has spoken his intentions to court our [Name],” your eldest brother says grimly, hands locked together and placed under his chin.
“You’re overreacting, he just asked me if I wanted to meet him another time.” You rolled your eyes, reaching for the garlic bread appetizer. He promptly swats it away. “Hey!”
“That’s basically the same thing,” your second brother argues. “Not that I don’t like His Grace, but it’s so sudden. Nobody has caught his eye until now, and I find it hard to believe you’re the first one ever.”
“Now you’re just dissing me.”
“I don’t see why you’re all unhappy about this,” your mother cuts in, smiling pleasantly. “The duke is an honorable man, one of the few I think are deserving of our [Name]. If he shows his loyalty and dedication to her throughout the courtship, we’ll see how well he’ll treat her.”
“That is if [Name] likes him. If she doesn’t and he continues to bother her, I’ll have to step in, status aside.” Your ever protective father frowns as he slices the steak on his plate. “Do tell us if he’s making you uncomfortable, honey.”
“Uh, no, I wouldn’t go that far…”
The only issue you have with the duke is that he’s a love interest. In the original game, him and your character would have nothing to do with each other if it weren’t for the original you insisting on being engaged to him. You don’t know what happened to her in the bad endings, but the situation probably wasn’t ideal. You thought as long as you avoided him, you could steer clear of trouble…
But if he’s the one running after you, what are you supposed to do…?!
“At the very least, you don’t dislike him, do you?” Your second brother cocks up an eyebrow.
“Not really, no.”
“Then hypothetically, if he invited you for a boat ride in the town today, would you go?”
“Hold on a second!” Your eldest brother interrupts. “We still haven’t discussed whether or not he’s worthy of [Name] yet, have we?”
“I thought we were past that.”
“We need to discuss it in detail.”
“Discuss what? The duke’s abundant treasury, contributions to the war against the dragon lord, or his reputation of being a gentleman towards all women?”
“...There has to be something he lacks.”
“What he lacks is a wonderful, caring wife,” your mother says. “And if [Name] is interested in the duke, we shouldn’t get in their way. I know you’re worried, dear. [Name] has always been stuck in the house because she’s sickly, but if a man wants to take her out to have a fun excursion, you should let her. His Grace is also very considerate of the people around him. Surely, if he notices her feeling unwell, he’ll take care of her.”
I haven’t said anything about wanting to go on a date with him though?!
“Fine. I don’t disapprove of him, but…” Your brother eyes you warily. “You best be home before sundown.”
A day passes. You hear three knocks on your door. When you allow the servant to enter your room, a maid rushes to you in a hurry, a letter sealed with the insignia of the Marechaussee House in her hands.
“Brother, I haven’t even received an invitation yet…”
--
The cake tower in front of you is magnificent. The fresh fruits topped on whipped cream are vibrant pops of color, and the frosting is piped beautifully in intricate swirls and shapes. The cakes pair well with the tea served, too, and you’re already planning to bring Lumine here the next time you’re both free to talk about the imperial knight she ended up talking to at the banquet. That route is definitely your favorite and you can’t wait to hear about the details.
Damn it.
There’s nothing wrong with the food. This pastry shop has been making its rounds in the newspapers for its delectable new additions on the menu, and they didn’t disappoint your tastebuds.
Though you have to say they’d be a lot more enjoyable if you weren’t surrounded by women eavesdropping on your little meeting with Neuvillette.
“This strawberry shortcake is delicious,” Neuvillette notes. “I’m not too fond of sweets, but they taste great. You should give it a try.”
“Oh, yes, when I finish this one…” The mango cheesecake is to die for, but it’s kind of hard to swallow with the death stares pinpointed at your direction. You hope the pastry shop allows takeout. “Thank you for inviting me to come here, Your Grace.”
“I noticed you mostly ate desserts at the imperial banquet, so I thought you would enjoy trying the food here.” He’s smiling, but when he glances over at your unwanted audience, his eyes gloss over and appear colder. “I didn’t anticipate there would be many people today. I’m sorry for that.”
Some of the women visibly twitch. They weren’t exactly caught red-handed, but it does prove that they’re guilty. Someone probably saw us here and told everyone else… Gossipmongers are scary.
“This situation is out of your control, you don’t have to apologize. And, uh, I wanted to talk to you about something, so your invitation came at a good time.” You fiddle with the edges of your sleeve, plucking at the lace.
Sensing the mood, the duke places down his fork to give you his full attention. “What did you want to talk about?”
Well. Here goes nothing. “Um… your invitation back at the imperial banquet… are you referring to a friendly chat or…” It’s sorta hard to say “Do you want to date me?” straight to his face. In the small chance you’ve gotten the wrong idea, you’d hate to appear presumptuous, so self-absorbed to think the highly-praised Neuvillette fell for you of all people. Lumine, you’d understand–the girl has a knack for melting the coldness of your heart and taking down people’s walls, and it’s why you became friends with her despite the odds. You, though… Nothing specific comes to mind.
Unexpectedly, a soft chuckle reaches your ears. You raise your head, surprised to see Neuvillette laughing. It’s possibly the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard in your life. When he catches you staring, he composes himself, but the dazzling smile remains on his face. “I was certain I made my intentions clear, but I suppose I’ll have to be more forward next time.”
A flush crawls up to your cheeks, burning hot. “No, I swear I know what you mean- just making sure, you know? I mean, I wouldn’t want to assume the duke is interested in me without knowing for certain-”
You stop yourself from rambling, feeling you’ve said too much. Fuck. Is it just you or is Neuvillette’s smile a bit wider now? You stuff your stupid mouth with the shortcake he placed on your plate. It’s good. Your acting is very much not.
He clears his throat, getting back to business. “I understand you don’t see me that way. I would like to court you, but if you tell me to stop now, I will.”
Isn’t he backing off too easily? I mean it’s great he respects my decision, but if I turn him down now, it’d probably be bad for his reputation…
“Before we… have that discussion, I still have more questions to ask.” You sip on your tea to wash down the sweet taste on your tongue. It’s silent once you put the cup on the table. Placing your hands on your lap, you look directly into Neuvillette’s eyes, searching for an answer. “May I ask Your Grace why you took an interest in me?”
The silence persists for a few seconds more. It doesn’t seem like he’s thinking of the perfect words to swoon you over; he’s thinking about how to verbalize what he truly thought of you.
He opens his mouth after careful consideration. “...It began as curiosity,” he starts, tapping rhythmically on the table. “I had my own reasons for turning down invitations to parties, so I wondered what were yours.”
You swallow. Officially, you turned those down using your health as an excuse. But your constitution has improved greatly compared to when you were young, and evidently, you’re almost just as healthy as any person. At the very least, you’re not at risk of passing out or losing breath in the middle of an event anymore. He must’ve picked up on that.
“I’ve heard about you from other people. According to their words, you were ‘the loveliest flower’ in the kingdom, with unparalleled gracefulness and beauty… but your elder brother’s stories suggested otherwise.”
I’m kicking his ass when I get back home.
“And yesterday, I met you myself. I thought you differed from how they described you.” He pauses, drinking his tea. “I’ve heard many say you were quite the stoic character, always hard to read. But you make a lot of interesting expressions behind your fan. You don’t hide your true thoughts when you speak, or perhaps you’re simply bad at hiding them. I previously found your brother’s stories unbelievable, but now I can see that the colorful personality he was talking about wasn’t very far off.”
??? “Colorful personality”?? Is that a good thing or a bad thing?
“...I understand.” You really don’t, but you won’t bother asking him for more details. Everything he said thus far lowkey sounds like a diss. “Let me rephrase my question, then.”
It’s okay. This isn’t unfamiliar territory, and you’re not stupid. Obviously, if you do different things from the original, the story will derail from its original course. That’s what always happens in transmigration manhwas, after all. You noticed that early before the plot could truly change. If so, perhaps you can control the amount of change that will happen.
You sit up a little straighter, eyes laser-focused on his reaction to what you’re about to say. “What are you after, trying to get closer to me?”
You know these tropes. If you give him what he needs, you can separate soon, no strings attached.
Neuvillette makes an expression of confusion, his brows knitted. “Your hand in marriage,” he says it like it’s the obvious answer.
“Not that! Is there anything you need help with?”
“I did say I was having trouble with the women at the banquet, but that was more of an excuse to talk to you.”
You sputter, “W-well, you need someone to fake-date or fake-marry then?” Fake-dating often leads to them actually dating, but if you’re careful, you can probably keep that from happening, right?
The furrow in his brow deepens. “I don’t want to use you to stop women from chasing me. I want to marry you.”
Goddamn it. Does this guy have his own set of dialogue choices and he keeps on picking the one that raises affection? “…Okay, I get it! You need something from my family! What is it? We don’t need to be married for me to help you.” You cross your arms triumphantly. That should do it.
Instead of agreeing, Neuvillette looks forlorn. “Lady [Name], is it really that hard to believe I want to marry you without something else in mind?”
Now Neuvillette looks like a kicked puppy and you’re solely to blame for it. Fuck!
You sigh, rubbing circles on your temple. “I just… fail to see why Your Grace is interested in me.” You’re not talking yourself down, nor do you have low self-esteem. You simply don’t recall doing anything that would make him fall for you at all. Logically speaking, there’s just no reason behind his actions.
Your eyes widen when you have a moment of eureka. Maybe talking yourself down is actually the way to get him off your trail?
“I’m sure Your Grace is aware, but I have a weak constitution…” you begin your pitiful tale, coughing softly to prove your point. “I can’t work very long, and I require plenty of rest to function in daily life. In the case that we marry, I might not be able to keep up with the tasks the lady of the house is expected to handle. Rather than support you as your wife, I might merely become a burden to you. And most importantly…”
A lot of what you just said aren’t complete lies, but you did exaggerate them greatly. Even if he isn’t convinced with those, you still have a hidden card up your sleeve, one that’s sure to discourage him.
“...With my feeble body, it would be difficult to sire you an heir for the duchy,” you state firmly, placing emphasis on this one point. Successors are absolutely a requirement for each family, because who else will inherit the title and everything that comes with it when the current head comes to pass? For this, you’re not even sure if you’re exaggerating anymore. The future of the original [Name] Silva was left unclear, so who knows if your body will improve or deteriorate with time?
Neuvillette’s face becomes stoic. This much is expected. Any moment now, he’ll take back his words…
…As you’re thinking that, you feel him touch your hand once more, not unlike the time at the banquet. You don’t know when you started fidgeting with the napkin on the table out of anxiety, but he’s rubbing a thumb over your knuckles to soothe you now, gentle touches that verge on ticklish.
“I’m prepared for that,” he says softly. “I won’t spare any expense on your treatment, of course, and in the case your condition worsens, I won’t stop finding ways to make you feel better. But I would never make you do anything to push you beyond your limits. I’ll take on everything you can’t do. Eventually, we’ll need to talk about successors, but I need you to know that I won’t force you or put you in any risk. If needed, I’ll talk to my relatives and figure out something from there.”
???!?!?!?!?!!!?! He wants to pass on the title to someone who’s not a direct descendant?!?!?
Your mouth is agape. You’re sure your jaw-dropped face doesn’t look very pleasant, but the affection in his gaze doesn’t dwindle. Heavy. Everything he just said is so heavy. The future is scary to think about, but when he says it like that, why does it feel like you can lean on him freely?! This is no time to be getting swept off your feet, [Name]! Focus!
“Are you still not convinced?” He moves his face closer, concern in his eyes.
“No, I get it! I get it already!” You take your hand back, but his warmth still lingers. You hold your fingers like they’re scorched, yet pain is the furthest thing from what you’re feeling, and your heart flutters traitorously in your beating chest. “You’re being unfair. If you go that far, there’s no way anyone could turn you down.”
The smile returns to his face as he takes his hand back as well. “I take it that you’ve given me permission to court you, then?”
!!! Sly! That’s what this person is, sly! He knew what he was doing!
You make a face. “Ugh… maybe persistent guys are too dangerous for me…”
“Lady [Name], you’re speaking your thoughts out loud again. Not that I dislike it, though.”
The duke of Marechaussee has found a potential bride.
“I-! Nevermind…”
That’s putting it lightly because everyone that has heard of them is certain that they’ll marry in the near future. With the amount of flirting the two have done (leaked by the eavesdropping jealous-admirers-turned-shippers), it’s a mystery why they haven’t made the announcements yet.
Notably, the pair of them frequented restaurants the most, visiting the shops highly regarded for their sweets. Chatting in slow boat rides seem to also be one of their most favored dates, and at one particularly disastrous time when the boat tipped over by accident, the duke had fretted over the lady while she merely laughed in joy, insisting she was fine and her partner was being too much of a worrywart. Both started to attend more gatherings, almost never spotted to be straying from each other, and it was more or less their indirect way of telling the public eye they were exclusive.
Their romantic dates are all common knowledge to anyone nosy by now, but there’s one thing they absolutely cannot spread.
“Don’t tell this to anyone,” a woman whispered to her loyal companion. “And I truly mean that this time. Don’t do it.”
“What is it? Is it something really bad? ‘Some high-ranking noble has a secret love child’ bad?”
“No!” This time, the woman took care to whisper her words even quieter, “I heard the duke requested a jeweler to craft an engagement ring…!”
Things I couldn’t fit into the fic:
Neuvillette already met you when you were younger. In one of the first gatherings you attended, you talked to each other because you were near in age. However, you collapsed due to your constitution and he was the one to alert the adults and carry you to a sick room. He used a handkerchief embroidered with his initials to wipe away the blood you threw up, and you hid it away in your bedside table after cleaning it in hopes of returning it (if he still wanted it back, soiled once and all) when you saw him again. Unfortunately, your family members were worried and didn’t let you outside for a long time to avoid having you perform strenuous activities, and you didn’t recognize him at a later gathering when he tried striking a conversation with you. He noted you were slowly getting better, but wondered why you weren’t attending parties if you were relatively well now.
You probably interacted with him when he was pretending to be a normal commoner several times already before your “first meeting.”
You didn’t fall for him immediately, but it was a slow progression until you forgot about the whole ‘I’m in an otome game world’ thing completely.
— 1 missed call from [Name] —
Realistically, he knows he shouldn’t call you back. Ignore the missed call, head back to bed, and forgot you forever. Forget the romance you once shared and move on. Forgot all the words of love that ever left his lips. You are not his and he is not yours.
But he can’t. He can’t possibly ignore you when you’re calling him at 2AM, yearning for him in whatever way you do.
So he calls. Like the fool that he is, he calls his ex-girlfriend of one year back.
“Hello?”
“Tsukishima…” you trail, and your voice is distant. So far, so small, so fearful. He hears your hesitance from one word only.
He wishes you could call him your Kei again.
“Why did you call me?” Tsukishima responds with hostility, for that is all he knows. When he lost you, his ways changed and his heart turned to stone. It seems that anger is all he knows these days, a hard tongue made of venom and stone.
“I-I wanted to talk to you.”
You stutter. You stutter and Tsukishima knows that you’re drunk. You have a few habits whenever you’re intoxicated, and a stutter is always accompanied with the alcohol.
“You’re drunk,” is all he says.
“I know.”
“Talk to me when you’re sober,” he goes to cut the call, but a quick wait! is enough to halt his movements.
“God, I don’t even know why I even called you,” you whisper, as if speaking to yourself.
He sighs, “where are you?”
“Um, I’m not sure.”
“You went out not knowing where you’re going?” He asks, and it’s that condescending tone you hate. The one that pushed your relationship to its limit.
“It’s not like I wanted to be here,” you whisper yet again, a measly attempt at defending yourself.
Another sigh, another sign of disappointment, and Tsukishima finally speaks up.
“Go to the Maps app.” You mumble a small okay, and do as he tells you. “Now zoom in on your location and send it to me.”
“Why?”
“Just do it.”
You listen to him and soon after Tsukishima gets a notification. He doesn’t bid you goodbye, simply cuts the call and gets up from his bed. He heads for his closet, grabbing two jackets, and heads out the door.
He’ll see you for the first time in a year.
-
And see you he does.
You’re sat on the curb of the road, your knees pushed against your chest and your head resting on your knees. It seems as if you’re asleep, your eyes closed and body still.
He kneels beside you, whispering your name loud enough to wake you up.
“Huh?” You groan, turning your head to look at the man you can’t seem to let go. “Kei?”
There it is. It’s always sounded so sweet on your tongue, so sultry and intimate. It’s his given name, the one he grows to love each time you say it.
It’s bittersweet hearing it from you.
“Why are you just sleeping in the middle of the road? What if some pervert stopped by?”
“But nobody did,” you say, logic leaving you in your drunken state. You move closer to him, seeking his warmth.
You’ve always loved his touch. When you once called him yours, his body was always somehow attached to yours. Your skin on his, his heart in your palm.
He sighs, “get in the car, [Name].”
He pulls you up from your position, easily holding you as gently as he can.
“You never used to call me by my name,” you stop and lean into his shoulder. “I was always your baby.”
Tsukishima knows it’s the alcohol talking. That you’d never say this sober, and that there’s a possibility that you don’t mean any of those words. But his heart still hurts. It hurts so much that he feels as if he has lost himself. Lost all the progress he made to just get over you.
(But perhaps he never really stopped loving you, if he was so willing to pick up your call.)
He lays you on the passenger seat, buckling your seatbelt for you. He drapes the extra jacket over your shoulders, and you remember it to be one of your favourites. You stare at him the whole time—eyes on his—but he refuses to look back. Not when he knows how easily his resolve could crumble with you around.
The car starts soon after, and you’re already asleep. Your head lays peacefully on the mirror, and Tsukishima wishes he could stay like this forever. In a world where he is yours and you are his.
-
There are not many things that Tsukishima regrets.
He prefers to live in the present and let the past be the past. What has happened is unchanging, so why worry? Why worry about what he should’ve done, when all he has is the now?
There are not many things that Tsukishima regrets. But he will always regret leaving you.
He knows that now, as he is in your bedroom, trying to find a way to change you out of your clothes and into your sleepwear.
You’ve always been a heavy sleeper, unmoving in the midst of all noise. That trait carries on to now, as he struggles to get your top off your body.
You squirm as he touches you. “Kei,” you whisper. “Why’d you pick me up?”
“You called me.”
“But you picked up,” you slur, “you could’ve ignored me. You were good at that when we were together.”
He winces. He knows you don’t mean it. You’ve always been far too kind to respond with such malice, especially towards him. Even when your relationship was walking on a tightrope, you never once yelled at him.
“Why were you so mean, Tsukishima?” It’s a rhetorical question, he knows it, but his heart burns the more you speak.
“I loved you so much, but you didn’t love me at all.”
“Don’t,” he immediately interrupts, “don’t say I never loved you.”
“You never showed me,” your voice is small, and he knows you’re about to cry. (Even after all these months, your habits remain in his mind.)
“I love you. So much more than you’ll ever understand,” he speaks with so much passion, that he forgets his confession.
He loves you. His heart will always belong to you.
“I love you too,” you cry, and a single teardrop grazes your cheek.
“You never deserved me.”
“I get to decide that,” you grab his delicate face with your rough hands. He always fit so perfectly in your palms. “I get to decide who is good for me.”
He pauses, resting in your hands and cherishing every moment he has with you. And it’s in your calloused palms where Tsukishima realises what he misses. He misses your presence, your love, you. Every habit that made him love you so deeply, he misses.
He will be yours again, he decides, as you hold him close. Somehow, someway, he will win you back.
— drunk confessions.
kazuha x gn reader
part 1. part 2.
warnings: golden apple event spoilers(?), cursing, alcohol, fluff, slightly suggestive
“Venti, what was in that drink??”
“Err, he might’ve drunk one of my cocktails..?”
Your face felt hot as a very drunk Kazuha clung onto you, giggling randomly and cooing your name while leaning uncomfortably close to your face.
“Y/nnnn~ hic- look at meee,” he whined tugging on your shirt while turning his head to try to catch your eyes. You felt as if you were about to burst from all the affection.
“Heh, seems as if you don’t mind Kazuha’s drunk antics though,” Venti giggled, eyeing your arms wrapped around Kazuha’s waist, while he clung onto you.
“Oh my archons, Venti! Guess what?”
“What, Y/n?”
“Shut the fuck up,” you hissed, face hot with embarrassment. Your other friends giggled, as Venti feigned being hurt.
“Y/nnn~” Kazuha drawled, tracing your lips with a finger.
Fuck.
You could hear snickering coming from the others as you shot a glare at them.
“What is it?” you sighed, finally looking into Kazuha’s eyes, though you almost immediately regretted it.
His eyelids were drooped as he stared intensely at your lips, almost hungrily. Glancing up at you he giggled and puckered his lips.
“Kiss!”
Oh my archons. He’s too cute…
“Hehehe, you heard him Y/n, give the big baby a kiss!” Paimon cooed while you dug your face into Kazuha’s neck, hiding your expression from the teasing looks being sent your way.
“Kissss- hic- k-kiss,” Kazuha pouted.
“Shut up Kazu, you’re drunk,” you mumbled into his neck. You could hear your friends resuming their conversation about the island and such as you looked up again.
“Y/n…”
“What now, Kazuha?” You sighed glancing at his flushed face.
His hands cupped your warm cheeks as he leaned closer to your face, staring deep into your eyes. You gulped as he leaned dangerously closer to you.
Softly, he brushed his lips against yours, kissing you for a beautiful moment, a moment where everything and everyone froze, a moment where it was only you and Kazuha, and a moment that didn’t last long enough. Kazuha leaned back and giggled with red hues decorating his beautiful face. Fuck, you were burning up. The lingering feeling of his soft lips stayed, your hand reaching up to brush your lips tentatively, feeling the tingling of a few seconds ago.
You can’t take this anymore.
Abruptly standing up, you dragged Kazuha to the stairs, feeling him stumble beside you as ooo-ing could be heard behind you.
You led him to the balcony, opening the door and then closing it behind you, inhaling a breath of cool air. “H-hic- Y/n…?” You turned to face Kazuha, then pulled him towards you, smashing your lips together once more. Your lips tugged and melded against each other, panting and soft hums being heard from both persons.
He bit your bottom lip, tugging and rolling it softly between his teeth. Your breath hitched as your mouth opened, allowing Kazuha to slip his tongue inside. Your tongues intertwined sensually as you continued kissing each other hungrily, as if you could never get enough.
You wove your fingers through his hair, tugging and pulling at it, making Kazuha release small mewls into your mouth. Unfortunately, you had to part for air, as the two of you panted, your foreheads pressed together in a comfortable silence.
“Y/n..” He whispered, tilting your chin up, directing your gaze into his eyes. “Hm..?” You hummed.
Ah, he was too beautiful, his messy hair strewn over his shoulders, ponytail having fallen apart moments ago from your tugging. His eyes, like crimson jewels staring into your own with such emotion it could make you overheat on the spot. His lips, the soft pink lips that easily sang words of poetry, the lips that captured yours so easily, bringing you into a hopeless love filled daze.
“I love you.”
You hoped it wasn’t just the alcohol in his system making him say these things, because you just couldn’t resist whispering the confession back, letting the walls fall down, letting vulnerability slip out.
“Damn, what took y’all so long?” Xinyan wiggled her brows as you sat down, Kazuha back to clinging onto you. “Needed to get fresh air,” you said dismissively. “With Kazuha?” Lumine pointed out teasingly. “Shut up,” you flushed.
Kazuha giggled and started pressing kisses all over your neck and face. “Mine, mine, mine~” he sang in between each kiss. You grumbled, heat once again rising in your face.
“Oh??” Venti smirked at the lovesick birds, noticing the change in your demeanors.
“All of you, shut up.”
(I am SOO sorry for sending another ask, BUT) kissing riddle till he's breathless and panting :3
-👅 freakyanon
jumped on this immediately in my sleepy stupor. i was actually stuck on this but woopsies i looked at his ssr halloween card and said fuck it
in which the prefect steals a kiss from riddle. he proceeds to chase the prefect down the heartslabyul maze as payback. riddle rosehearts x reader warnings: suggestive near the end! notes: takes place during the scary monsters ~ endless halloween night event. tried to bring out more of his 'evil queen of hearts' side out.
"Prefect, you came!"
White sheets wrapped around your form, you met Riddle with a cheeky grin as you held out your little bucket. Grim approaches with a matching smile, snickering to himself in a childlike manner. Now that the most dangerous part of the evening was over, Halloween cannot possibly end without a good trick or treating. "Of course! Why wouldn't I visit?" You giggle, much to the housewarden's delight.
Riddle bows slightly, tipping his hat with a courteous smile. It was nice to see your face, unobscured by the sheet. "A very Happy Halloween indeed, Prefect. Now, where did I put those sweets...?" He rummages through his pockets, able to take a handful. He pauses, frowning slightly as he sighed to himself. "I'd have to go back and get another pocketful of candies. It seems I have run out just now." He is taken aback by the way you shake your head, beaming at him with delight.
"Oh, no! It's no problem at all. Give the sweets to Grim!" You tell him, but Riddle hesitates, only relenting when you nod in assurance. "You'd sooner go to a veterinarian to look at his teeth than see a dentist yourself?" He questions with a weak smile. You could only sheepishly laugh in return. "Do I even have insurance in this world? Maybe if I pay Trey's family under the table, I can indulge a bit more with the confections." Grim yowls with glee as he scampers towards the other skeletons, presumably Ace and Deuce who have been lounging by a fake tombstone.
Once alone by his own casket, Riddle sighs and looks at you, almost as if he were trying to pry for a secret. "I suppose you are allowed to bestow upon me a trick, seeing as I have no treats to give you." Your eyes widened with slight surprise. "Are you sure? It's really fine, you know?" Your words are immediately cut short by a shake of his head. "As the Heartslabyul Housewarden, it is my duty to ensure all rules are followed."
There would be no arguing with Riddle when it comes to upholding rules.
Back straightened, Riddle sucked in a deep breath before meeting your gaze with promise. "Very well, prefect. What trick shall you play on me this time?"
You pause for a long time, almost stuck between several thoughts that were running through your head. Riddle couldn't help but feel his chest tighten as you bite onto your lower lip, shifting your ghostly sheet slightly. "Any trick?" You question quietly, eyeing the group of skeletons minding their businesses in the back. He watches as you settle the bucket of sweets to the side, as if preparing yourself for this trick.
Riddle's heart quickened, uncertain whether it was out of fear or excitement. He tilts his head slightly to the side, narrowing his eyes onto you in an attempt to read your mind. He cannot find anything based of how you seem to avoid his gaze, not to mention how shy you suddenly seemed. It was almost unlike you, especially when he has seen how lively you can be with some of the first years.
"Any trick, Prefect."
He knows you wouldn't do anything too reckless, but that was not to say you weren't bold.
However, what he does not expect is for your hands to take his collar and pull him close.
It is only instinct to him, when his eyes flutter shut and all he feels is the warmth of your lips onto his. Whatever thought he has to push you away is immediately melted as he inhales the scent of your hair, followed by the slight push of your weight. Much to his dismay, he never gets the chance to return that kiss. It is chaste, and quick, but it takes everything in his power to not drag you back when you hastily pull away.
He is dazed as he stares at your flushed expression, almost flustered by your own actions. Biting onto your lower lip, you take a step back. In response, the redhead reaches a hand out, only missing you by a few inches. "Prefect," He breathes out, eyes widening as you back away even more.
In the moonlight, Riddle looks more of a monster than he did human. The eyeshadow that compliments his eyes makes him appear more ghastly, but all it did was make your heart race even faster.
"Prefect, come back." He muttered, eyeing you dangerously.
He looked hungry.
There was a certain glint in his eyes that urged you to flee. Much like the trickster you were, you loved giving chase. With your heart pounding in your chest, you turned on your heel as you wrung your cape-like sheet around your neck. All you could hear was the sound of your heart pounding and your feet digging into the grass, unwilling to look back to see Riddle approaching with calm footsteps.
"Prefect!"
You run past the white roses and turn a corner into Heartslabyul's labyrinth. For all the instances you have already gotten lost trying to paint the roses for Unbirthday Parties, perhaps you had already grown familiar with each dead end and entrance you could find. A part of you wants to be caught, but another side of you does not want to find out the consequences of such. Maybe you can avoid encountering Riddle, and this entire trick could be forgotten overnight.
"Do you think you can hide from me, in my own maze?" Your breath hitches as the wind carries the whisper, and you soon grow paranoid with every footstep you make. Riddle is not Leona who can simply rely on animal instinct, but seeking and capturing was not his worst activity either.
The cries of the birds and the fluttering of their wings serve you no help, as it only seems to bring Riddle closer and closer to you. You swear you have seen your own footsteps already, much to your horror once you turn another corner. You have been here, there, and there already. Everywhere you looked, it was almost the same and the last thing you wanted to do was look behind you.
Everything comes to a halt when you turn a corner for the last time, only to meet a dead end. Surely, it shouldn't have been. You have made the correct number of left turns and right turns, you could have found your wait out!
"You turned right too early, Prefect." You freeze, whipping your head around to see Riddle approaching you with a cold smirk. He does not miss the way you gulp, all the more amused by your missing bravado. "Even if you didn't, I would have found you no matter what." You are taking a step back for every foot forward that he made, but it does not dismiss the inevitable end of this story.
The rustling of the bushes signals the end of your failed escape, back against the foliage. Roses, it is roses that intoxicates your senses, not Riddle who has suddenly come so close. His boot in-between your two feet, the redhead leans towards you with a warm breath. "I hope you enjoyed running. I did enjoy running after you." You are only speechless as Riddle smirks again, taking his gloved hand to tilt your chin upwards. "You've ran further than I anticipated. It's only a shame that I know this maze like the back of my hand."
"Riddle, my apologies." He could only raise a brow at your meek apology, shaking his head at your small tone. For someone who stood at his height, he has never felt taller when examining how suddenly shy you were. "For what? I took no offense, not when it was you who granted me such a sweet trick." This time, you are taken aback as Riddle cages you in, pressing your wrists gently against the bushes.
You could see through his bravado, knowing that there is still that part of him that appears hesitant. "I suppose that I did have a sweet treat for you after all." His gaze softens, as if asking permission. He does not even close in the gap, remaining at a distance even as his gentle grip on your wrists tightens ever so slightly with yearning.
"Will you allow me to indulge you?"
It is entirely impulse when you dove forward, pressing your lips against his once more. Just as you have done before, it is you holding the reigns. Your eyes are shut as you meld your lips onto his own, mixing in the faint flavor of cherry and sweets onto his tongue. Perhaps it is the moonlight tricking you into such bold actions, or the haziness of Halloween night that has transformed you into anything but the polite Ramshackle prefect.
If anything, it seems to have transformed Riddle as well.
You could only let out a muffled moan as his arm shifts down to your lower middle, tugging your waist close for an even deeper kiss. Riddle gasps momentarily for air before diving in himself, being the only to push you further and further into the foliage. Had it not been for his other arm keeping your form secure, you are certain that he would have pushed you onto the ground. There is more of Riddle on you now, and you keep looking for more and more as your hands snake up his neck and onto his hair.
He is sweet. He is even sweeter as he drunkenly swipes his tongue onto your lower lip, a crude way of asking permission. And yet, you oblige, allowing to explore your cavern greedily. To think Riddle would act so hungrily, almost unbecoming of a gentleman as he pushes and prods at you. You think that you are going to die like this— die running out of air because there is no part of you that wants to pull away.
Thankfully, your companion has the willpower to entangle his hands onto your hair and pull you away ever so slightly. He sucks in a shaky gasp, and you can see that intoxicated look on his face, in spite of all the sugar you gathered from his breath. There is nothing left in this maze, save for your shared breaths and the heat radiating from your cheeks.
Riddle stares at your hazed expression, never truly satisfied. You seem to share the same sentiment as your trembling hands crept up to his collar.
"A fair treat for the sweetest of roses."
SYNOPSIS: all aboard the lady luck and set sail for a new adventure! life on land doesn't satisfy you, so why not take to the seas instead? while working under captain aventurine as the primary nurse onboard, everything you've ever wanted is within your grasp, and yet the mystery surrounding your captain is still there, just short of being solved. just what kind of secrets lie hidden beneath that charming smile and silver tongue?
CHARACTERS: aventurine, topaz, ratio, jade, robin
TAGS: fem coded reader (wearing dresses, makeup, but they/them pronouns still used), mentions of drinking, gambling, harassment toward reader, drowning, numby is a regular piglet in this fic, 23.9k wc (get some snacks and a drink ready for this one), mild angst, some suggestiveness
NOTES: thought my aventurine kissery phase was over then hoyo uploaded the pirate art of him and now its back to square one
special thanks to my pookies @https-sourlimes and @tragedy-of-commons for proofreading this behemoth of a fic! with much love mwah 💋
very late but @lowkeyren hihihi ren!! I got u for secret santa and hope u enjoy this fic!
TAGLIST: @harque, @akutasoda, @hazyue, @gabile18, @khoncore, @moineauz, @mikashisus, @vxnuslogy, @papiliotao, @gl4di0lus
The rolling sea has always beckoned you.
It’s always been there, tucked away in the back of your mind, usually hidden but resurfacing like the corals and lost trinkets at low tide you’d go scavenging for when no one was looking. Conch shells hold the secrets of the ocean that enrapture you for hours on end and you drape yourself in weathered jewelry washed ashore. Dried-up starfish and seashells and multicolored sea glass litter your home, and yet it isn’t enough. These trinkets pile up and gather dust in your home as you chase after what you’re really after- a way out.
You’ve been surrounded by the sea your entire life, born and raised in this very port town. You grew up hearing stories of lands faraway from your parents and the workers down at the docks. Infamous pirates and honorable seamen alike and their journeys were your bedtime stories as a kid. You never see the same unfamiliar face twice in a place like this and perhaps it’s this ability to come and go as you please that captured your heart from a young age. Appearing and disappearing like an apparition with rumors of your conquests and the freedom a life at sea granted… it was enough to grab your attention as a kid and never let go.
And yet, you’ve never ventured into the open seas. The most you’ve done is swim around at the beach, but you’ve never been able to push further than that. Theoretically, you should’ve been able to leave long before now, but your plans never made it past the first step. You’ve been denied passage aboard ships at every turn for countless reasons, all of them stupider than the last. Eventually, your motivation died down until you resigned yourself to a dull life on land- but the dream never fizzled out completely. Even now, you still stroll along the beach and search for answers.
Down at the dock, you hear of sailors and pirates alike drunkenly telling tales of sirens and their bewitching songs they waged war against at sea. You wager that the sea’s freedom beckons to you the same way a siren’s song does to them- irresistible, enchanting, and inescapable no matter where you are.
When work is slow, you find yourself staring out at the sea through the window, just watching as the tides recede and crash onto the shoreline repeatedly. At night, you’d catch yourself at the beach with your feet in the sand and the salty waters lapping at your ankles without any recollection of how you got there. Maybe sleepwalking? But something tells you that’s not the answer.
But this time, you suddenly find yourself standing in waist-deep water, completely alone and without a sound to be heard. Not even the usual sound of squawking gulls circling overhead can be heard. That’s strange. The harbor is always busy, with goods being transported and people seeking asylum. There’s ships docked and as far as you can tell, it’s as normal of a day as any other. And yet, there’s no life to be seen or heard. No crabs scuttling along the sandy beach, no people strolling along the boardwalk, no shouts of street vendors peddling their wares to passersby. Just you, the sea, and its ever-growing temptation.
You think it’s somewhere around early evening from the position of the sun, but you aren’t sure how long you stare toward the horizon, unblinking. But when you do blink, you see a pirate ship coming into view. She’s quite possibly the most incredible ship you’ve ever seen in your life, with several sails, a sturdy hull, and a flag fluttering proudly atop the mainmast. And she’s heading right toward you. If you swim out further or wait where you are for a while longer, she’ll pass by, giving you the perfect opportunity to sneak onboard.
You look back one last time before heading further out to sea. You slip below the water. It’s pleasantly warm and you wonder why you’ve never attempted this before.
The siren’s embrace, that is the ocean’s form of freedom, is growing stronger.
Port towns aren’t known for being the safest, especially those frequented by pirates. Public drunken brawls, looting by particularly greedy pirate crews, lechery, and disturbance of the peace with the occasional count of public indecency, are commonplace almost every night. Usually, you’re able to avoid most of it, but today isn’t your lucky day.
“Hey, pretty lady! Mind comin’ home-”
Crash!
An empty beer bottle goes flying by, barely missing his head and shattering into bits against the brick wall behind him. He lets out an unusually high-pitched squeak for someone of his size and stares as you storm past, his mouth agape. Another sailor behind him laughs at his plight, to which he spins around and cusses toward his face. You make it out just in time as the first punch is thrown.
One drunken sailor is more than enough to deal with, you decide. You decide that you’ll take your chances and go past the port as a shortcut back home, even though it’s late.
It’s silent besides the sloshing of the waves and mostly empty. There’s some burly guards patrolling in front of the more ostentatious pirate ships that spare a glance as you hurry by, but it’s otherwise deserted at this hour.
Until you approach the end of the harbor where few ships are docked. You hear the faint sounds of a struggle- a punch being thrown, a man’s muffled scream, glass shattering, the wet squelch of a knife sinking into flesh, and the thud of a body hitting the ground. From the shadows, you see two people emerge. A blond man drags someone out by the hair with a knife in hand. Even from here, you can see the dark slick staining the wood. There’s a ship directly in front of him. You assume it belongs- or belonged- to the now-lifeless body being dragged along. The blond looks around, then freezes up upon seeing you. The hand holding the knife tenses at his side and the two of you stay locked in place like that for a bit, daring to see who will make the first move. Shockingly bright neon eyes meet yours and you jolt. You’ve never seen anyone with eyes like his.
But there’s a ship that’s still waiting. You recall that strange dream you had a few nights ago.
… On second thought, perhaps today is your lucky day after all.
You slowly clap, starting to move forward, and the blond steps back. The knife in his hands, now aimed at you, is a tiny thing. It’s rusted, the blade is most likely dull, and even the butter knife in your kitchen would laugh at it.
“Congrats on winning. Got any injuries you need patched up?”
No response. You try again.
“I see those injuries you got from that fight. Those wounds of yours won’t heal overnight. Someone has to be there to ensure they don’t get infected.”
“... You’re a nurse?”
His voice comes out smoother than expected. Amusement and snark drip from the words, thick as honey, like he can’t believe you’re a medical professional. And yet, you can hear the tenseness in his voice and see it in his coiled muscles, ready to spring back into action again.
You ignore the jab toward you and point toward the winding cobblestone streets that you came from. The sounds of a fight can be heard coming from the town square even out here.
“Run a practice in town. Certified and everything if you’re real nitpicky and care about my credentials. Though most sailors that come through the door could care less when they’ve got a pretty lady lookin’ over ‘em and are used to amputations for the most minor of infections.”
“I’m surprised you haven’t been snatched up by another pirate crew yet then,” he smugly remarks, voice as smooth as velvet yet concealing a sharp edge.
“Oh, there’ve been attempts alright. Promises of double the booty a normal seaman would receive, the finest quarters second only to the captain, medical supplies taking utmost priority when docking, and many many more. Hah! All nice and cute, but we know that in a few months time, all those promises will have fallen out the window and I’ll be regarded with no less respect than the lowliest seaman onboard.”
He leans back against a wooden post, roughly kicking the man from earlier until his bleeding head is submerged underwater. You spare a glance at the poor soul before looking back at him.
“Got a ship now?”
“... It’s not much, but it’s something to start with.”
He looks behind him and as he does so, the sleeves of his rags shift to reveal the injuries lying beneath. A sharp intake of breath is the only sign you’ve seen them, but his keen ears pick up on it. He tugs his sleeves down and glowers over his shoulder in your direction.
“You don’t have any medical expertise, do you?” you ask, ignoring his irritation. “Not a good idea to go out conquerin’ the seven seas without a nurse on board. Matter of fact, I doubt you’d even get that far. Probably die off from scurvy or something preventable.”
His silence speaks volumes. You brush past him and set foot onto his stolen ship- little more than a glorified rowboat with a mast and a single sail. It couldn’t even be called a sailboat.
Still, he won’t go down so easily. He crosses his arms in front of his chest and stares you down behind his thick bangs obscuring his vision.
“And why should I welcome you aboard?”
“Simple. We both get what we want.”
You reach your hand out to him.
“You get a trained, qualified medical professional to treat your wounds, and I get to escape this rinky-dink, backwater port town. A mutually beneficial deal, don’t you agree?”
He racks his mind for an excuse, anything, really, to turn you down. But he can’t come up with anything. The wounds all over his body really do need treatment that he doesn’t have the expertise for. There’s enough room for two people in the boat and he knows you’re smart enough to have realized that by now.
It’s fine. I’ll just dump them off at the next port and be on my way. Problem solved.
With no excuse that can fly under your radar, he pushes his irritation down and forces a smile onto his face. He reaches a hand out and it’s just now you notice his ghostly blue fingertips.
… He’s not entirely human, is he?
“Your name?”
“(Name).”
“Welcome aboard, Nurse (Name).”
You brush your thoughts aside and shake his hand. It’s cold.
“Pleasure, Captain…?”
“Aventurine.”
You squeeze his hand firmly one last time.
“Pleasure to be working with you, Captain Aventurine.”
Captain, huh? He tries the title on for size in his mind as you get settled in, rolling it around on his tongue.
I could get used to being called that.
Even though he initially promised himself that he’d kick you out at the next port, that never happens. You pass by several ports, and yet you stay onboard. Perhaps it’s because he finds his first treasure alongside you on an island that many have sailed past countless times. The treasure was hiding under everyone’s noses the entire time, both of you managing to uncover it with a bit of wit and a hefty amount of luck. Aventurine supposes part of himself feels indebted to you, much as he hates the sensation. You found your first treasures together and you’ve admittedly been taking good care of his wounds born from years of enslavement. The healing process is coming along slowly but steadily.
Perhaps he’ll let you stay for a bit longer. Until you get your share of this treasure. He gives credit where credit is due, at least.
“I can’t believe this has been here this whole time,” you say as the treasure chest is finally unearthed. Aventurine sets the shovel down, and on the count of three, you lift it out to go through its contents. It’s no sizable amount of loot by any means, but it’s not half-bad for your first haul. Some gemstones that are admittedly rather small, jewelry, a few rusted cutlasses that with some elbow grease, could be restored to their former state, and some golden coins from a bygone era.
You hold some gold chains up in front of him, as if seeing what he’d look like with them on. He casts a glance down and shakes his head in disapproval.
“I know, too gaudy, right?” you ask as you set them back into the chest. He holds up a handful of uncut diamonds, all of varying sizes, and watches as they twinkle in the sunlight. “At least we can pawn ‘em off.”
“I know someone who can fetch us a good price for them. You won’t have to worry about that,” he responds as he lets the diamonds slip back into the chest through his fingers like fat, glistening raindrops. Diamonds are almost worthless on their own, but if he sends them to a jeweler to be cut and polished and perhaps turned into jewelry, then perhaps he can squeeze out a bit of value from them… Or perhaps he should just leave them the way they are, given her hobby for finding true gems in the rough.
He finds a string of pearls and after a moment for inspection, tosses them over to you.
“Here. Keep these. You’ll look good in ‘em.”
“Then at least keep one or two of those gold chains as well,” you say as you clasp it shut around your neck. Aventurine shakes his head again, laughing snarkily.
“Nah. Not my taste. Not gaudy enough.”
“That’s what I said earli- wait, not gaudy enough?”
He meets your disbelieving expression with an innocent one and a shrug of his shoulders.
“What? A pirate captain’s gotta look the part. The more in-your-face, the better.”
There’s someone already waiting for you when you return to land to pawn off your treasure. According to Aventurine, she owns one of the most prosperous pawn shop chains out there and always fetches a fair price for her customers, so long as they have something equally valuable to give her in return.
“Just remember to always address her as ‘Lady Bonajade’ and nothing else. She doesn’t take too kindly to those who don’t have manners,” he whispers to you as you weave your way between the crowded streets to the pawn shop’s address.
“Sounds like an interesting person,” you whisper back. “Should I be scared?”
He scoffs. “Not unless you’re looking to trade something beyond our treasure. Just don’t say anything rash. Let me handle it.”
The pawn shop is tucked away in a corner of town that sees few people. The exterior is surprisingly well-maintained for this part of town and a sign reading “Bonajade Exchange” in elegant violet cursive lettering hangs above the door. You can’t see into the shop’s windows and you can’t hear any activity from inside either. Upon pushing the heavy door open, you’re greeted with the chime above tinkling at your arrival and the scent of heavy perfume cloying your nose. It smells heavily of florals and incense, with a hint of smoke present. The candle flames waver and flicker as the door shuts and you take a moment to look around the shop. The heavy velvet curtains across the windows are drawn, letting only a small sliver of sunlight in. The only other source of lighting is the candles scattered throughout that illuminate the treasures displayed almost carelessly throughout the store. Polished and cut gemstones lie in display cases alongside gold bars and jewelry. Weapons of all sorts are hung along the walls alongside maps and thick, aged atlases on the bookshelves. It’s silent, save for the faint crackling of waxen flames, until an unfamiliar and elegant voice rings out from behind the curtain all the way in the back.
“Welcome to Bonajade Exchange. Who are you? And what do you seek?”
There’s a moment of silence that follows, as if the speaker has recognized who you are. A candle is lit behind the curtain and you can make out the silhouette of a woman rising to her feet.
“Oh, it’s you. We meet again, Aventurine.”
There’s a smile in her voice as she brushes the curtain aside and you get your first look at the owner of the shop. A wide-brimmed black hat obscures half of her face with a pale blue eye peeking out at you. She wears a white dress that’s undoubtedly made of silk or some other costly fabric with a dark blue corset. The silver and jade jewelry she wears (is that where she gets her name from?) clink pleasantly against each other alongside her heels, accompanied by a walking stick clicking against the wooden floor as she walks. As she approaches, you can pick up on her perfume of white florals and red wine.
She comes to a stop and her eyes rake over you both, lingering on you especially. You catch a hint of something in her slitted pupils, like she knows something you don’t.
“I haven’t seen you before. I’m Lady Jade, the owner of this place. Are you a first-time customer to the Bonajade Exchange?”
Her voice is low and almost a whisper that has you hanging onto her every word. It’s as smooth as the silk used for her dress but there’s an almost unnatural hiss to her words, not unlike that of a snake’s. Her voice is also vaguely snake-like too- the way certain words are stretched out, the weirdly sharp pronunciation of consonants clashing with the almost syrupy vowels that tempt you to lower your defenses, the lack of cadence- all make you unconsciously be on guard. Under her chilling gaze, you feel yourself strangely clamming up and it’s all you can do to nod mutely. She hums and leans in closer, examining you head to toe. You feel like an item being offered up for auction yourself right now…
“And who might you be, lovely lady?”
You’re surrounded by ice.
“Nurse (Name)... Lady Bonajade,” you say, hurriedly adding her title at the end after remembering Aventurine’s advice from earlier. She smiles approvingly, a cold and benevolent thing.
“You’re a good child who knows their manners. Alas, the same couldn’t be said for the man next to you when I first-”
Aventurine coughs. Jade stops talking, but the mirth still lingers in her eyes. A purple snake appears out of seemingly nowhere, winding around her shoulders and up her forearm before rearing its head at you. Its tongue flicks out to taste the air and it leans toward you before she gently pushes its head back.
“Don’t mind it. It’s too curious for its own good at times,” she says offhandedly. Her baby blue irises drift toward the plain wooden crate sitting behind Aventurine and the beginnings of a smirk tug at the corners of her glossy lips.
“Have you brought something valuable for me?”
Aventurine beckons you over and after a bit of effort, you pry open the lid to reveal the contents of the treasure you found. Jade strides forward and stops before the crate, examining it with interest.
“Look at that, you’ve finally found your first treasure. Where was it found?”
She raises an eyebrow and a hint of skepticism crosses her expression when Aventurine tells her the spot.
“That island has been combed through countless times by other pirates. I find your claim hard to believe.”
Atlases and ancient records are brought out and she finally seems to believe him after cross-referencing the embossing on the back of a coin with a legend from that island. Just as you think you’re starting to get a grasp of the situation, a flurry of financial terms fly over your head as they argue over the market value of the items and how much cash you can walk away with today.
… You’re way out of your comfort zone now. You’re a nurse, not a businessperson, for Aeon’s sake!
An agreement seems to be reached between the two of them. Jade readjusts her gloves and after calling some men over from the back, they begin going through the treasures and separating them into piles. Meanwhile, Aventurine turns his attention back to you.
“Fifty-fifty split.” You make the first move.
Aventurine scoffs. “Absolutely not. Eighty-twenty at least.”
“Who do you think you are?”
“The captain, of cour-”
“Self-proclaimed,” you retort. “Doesn’t bear much weight with only a crew of two and each of us handling the work of at least five men. Seventy-thirty split since you want to be stingy.”
“Still too little.”
Your eyes narrow in irritation while his smug smirk never wavers.
“Seventy five-twenty five.”
“Fifty five-forty five.”
“Is that really any different from your initial offer of a fifty-fifty split?”
“That’s a five percent increase.”
“Yeah, only five percent.”
Jade chuckles from where she leans against the counter. The treasure has been fully cleared out and taken elsewhere. All that remains is an empty crate on the ground.
“A five percent increase isn’t as narrow of a margin as you would think it is. Right now, that might not seem like much, but in the future when you start discovering more valuable and rarer treasures…”
She yawns and covers her mouth with a delicate hand.
“Who knows? You could be looking at a gain of at least a couple thousand.”
Aventurine clicks his tongue and turns back to you. There’s one last offer you have before you give up and walk away. A new life in this town for the time being doesn’t seem too bad…
“Sixty-forty.”
He stills at your offer. Jade’s eyes are trained on him as she lightly fans herself with a feathered folding fan. Her snake watches the exchange with seemingly keen interest too.
“... You drive a hard bargain just like Lady Bonajade over here,” he grumbles as he forks over a portion of the credits to you. He leaves part of it on the counter, though.
“You have an innate sense for business,” comments Jade, as you leaf through the wad of bills. “Perhaps you’d like to refine it to its fullest potential?”
“Lady Bonajade, please stop trying to recruit every promising person that walks through your door.”
“It’s not just anyone I set my eyes on. It’s only those with exceptional talent that shine like gems in the rough,” she corrects. Her gaze flicks over to you again.
“Should you ever grow tired of a life at sea and wish to attain everything you desire… you know where to find me. I have branches all over the seven seas. I’ll be patiently waiting.”
Aventurine hurriedly hands you the stack of credits he set aside earlier.
“We’re running low on supplies. I still have business to discuss with her, so why don’t you go and pick them up for me?”
You nod and leave. The door shuts behind you, and Jade’s welcoming demeanor immediately disappears as soon as the shop is plunged into darkness again. Even though the climate is temperate in this stretch of the ocean, the temperature drops considerably. Her snake comes out of hiding and openly hisses at him. This time, she does nothing to reprimand it.
“I see you’re planning to let a considerable asset go. My best advice for you would be to not.”
Aventurine barks out a laugh and meets her cold tone with one of his own.
“Meddling in my affairs, you damned sea witch-“
“You would do well to learn some manners from them, child,” she all but snaps. “Remember, I don’t give out advice for free. When I do, it’s because I see a great return of my investment in you on the horizon. It would be in your best interest to listen.”
She hisses the last word out and her pet snake does the same. Aventurine’s heart is racing, but he shows no sign of it.
“A businesswoman through and through,” he remarks dryly. “Don’t think I didn’t notice how you called them an asset.”
“Oh? As if you see them any better than I do. At least I recognize their value. You, on the other hand, have seen them as a nuisance this whole time.”
She sighs. “Such potential headed straight to ruin under your care. It’s quite a waste. Perhaps I should take them under my wing instead, the same way I did with you… Better yet, why don’t I put them through the same refinement process the way I did with you? It’ll be a valuable learning experience for you both.”
Aventurine bristles, and Jade smirks, knowing she has the upper hand now. He’s reminded that just like that, Jade can take away everything he’s fought for. And shape the rest of your life to what she has envisioned.
“You will have them remain as a crewmate upon your ship. Don’t think I’m unaware of how your wounds are coming along. This is in your best interest as much as it is mine. Understood?”
He numbly nods. Jade hums happily and pats him on the shoulder.
“Good child. I expect even greater things from the two of you combined.”
There’s a knock at the front and the door swings open. The sudden brightness of the sun makes him squint, but he can see you standing there with several boxes behind you and some burly men carrying them.
“Captain, I picked up all our supplies. Is there anything else you need me to handle?”
“No, tell them to take them back to the ship. Wait there. I’m almost finished here.”
You nod and the door closes again. Jade turns to him with a knowing look in her eyes as she pulls away from the counter to head to the back again.
“Captain,” she repeats with a teasing lilt.
“Stop that,” he grumbles. She checks the time and barely spares him a glance over her shoulder as she retreats behind the curtain again.
“The time for conversation has ended. Go now. It isn’t polite to keep your partners waiting for any longer than necessary.”
Just as he’s about to head out the door, he’s stopped by her again.
“Don’t disappoint me now, child.”
The only response she gets is the door slamming shut.
He finds you waiting by the ship as instructed. You don’t even get the chance to ask him what happened as he pushes past you roughly and hoists the sails. Wordlessly, you weigh the anchor and as you set sail, Aventurine finds himself more thankful than ever for your ability to read the room.
Yes, he barely tolerates you. He never wanted a second person aboard to begin with. But anything is better than catching Jade’s attention. From personal experience, it takes a very special kind of person to stay one move ahead in her games and he knows you aren’t cut from that cloth. Most people aren’t. You’d maybe hold out for a bit with your hidden wit, but you’d inevitably be offered up as a loan in her many dealings, getting passed around from ship to ship as a highly sought-after medic until you’d work yourself into an early grave. Only then would she lose interest and only because your market value would be at zero.
His injuries have been healing nicely, but he still needs your care. He makes up his mind to let you stay on his ship for the time being. At least until Jade’s interest in you has died out or until his injuries are completely healed. Whichever one comes first.
And that initial condition is forgotten about too. Jade’s interest in you never wanes and his scars have faded, but that’s not the reason why he lets you stay. You’re quite the handy person, proving yourself to be skilled in tasks outside of medicine. You surprise him with your skill in carpentry and business, although he already knows about the latter thanks to Jade. He’s a horrible cook, but you manage to save yourselves from starvation with your talent in the kitchen.
Aventurine begrudgingly admits that you’re also fun to be around as time goes on. You’re quite the charming storyteller with a never-ending trove of stories to share. Many of your nights are shared together under the starry skies with a tankard of rum in hand as he listens to your animated and slightly slurred narration of stories you penned earlier that day, or accounts about your former life in a port town and the… interesting experiences you’ve had.
“Interesting” is putting things lightly, he decides one night after you described how you chased off some unsavory pirates looking to rob your office of valuable medical supplies with a saw and a kitchen knife. And chased off? More like scared half to death.
He also learns that you’re musically gifted as well. He’s off pawning off your latest treasures while you wander around after gathering necessary supplies as per usual. You had agreed to meet back on the ship but he instead finds you standing in front of a music store, eyeing the instruments they have on display in the window.
“You play?” he asks as he approaches your side.
“Yeah,” you respond without taking your eyes off the window. “Was how I made money before I became a certified nurse. I’d take a gig every night at the local tavern and see how much money a crowd of drunk men was willing to throw at me.”
“And?”
“You’d be surprised. If there’s one thing pirates are good at, it’s getting drunk and throwing their earnings at the first pretty thing they see after months at sea.”
“Do you still want to play?”
You tear your eyes away from the display to meet his gaze for a second, before looking away again.
“... Part of me misses it. Just a bit.”
“...”
You leave the store with a skip in your step and the nicest violin they had for sale in your hands, courtesy of your captain. Music now drifts through the ship and sometimes you’ll perform what you’ve been practicing for him after dinner. He’ll clap along, but you notice he never sings or even hums along…
You have company now as well. Long after you’ve weighed the anchor, you discover a stowaway onboard in the form of a black cat tearing through your food stockpiles.
“You thief!” you exclaim as you lift it by the scruff and hold it up to eye level. It’s tiny… is it a kitten or just malnourished? It meows pitifully and licks the finger you extend after cautiously sniffing it, a little sliver of pink peeking out and scraping against your skin.
The poor thing is… kind of… cute.
“Oh? What’s this?” comes an irritatingly familiar voice behind you. You spin around to see the familiar visage of your captain smiling down at the cat in your hands with amusement. “A stowaway, eh?”
“I caught this little thief digging through our rations. Captain, what do you suggest we do?”
He raises his eyebrows in feigned shock. A hand comes up to stroke his chin as he thinks.
“A heinous crime,” he proclaims with drama dripping from his words. “A fitting punishment for a crime is needed.”
“Your verdict?”
“The cat can put itself to good use by staying aboard our ship and hunting down mice. Cats are also a symbol of good luck on ships, you know.”
Without further ado, he swoops in and snatches the cat out of your hands. It purrs loudly as he strokes its cheeks.
Didn’t take much convincing for him to fold, you think as you scratch its chin. It closes its eyes and its ears twitch.
“Shouldn’t we give it a name? Captain, any suggestions?”
A big mistake on your part.
“How does the name Doubloon sound?”
“... Doubloon?”
Aventurine sets the cat down and tosses a gold coin out there. The cat immediately goes running after it, green eyes wide and pupils dilated. It pounces on the coin and tussles with it, biting on the metal like its prey.
“Never mind. It’s fitting. Doubloon it is.”
It’s nice, he admits. He has a handy crewmate who is capable of all sorts of tasks and can deal with his antics, surprisingly. He decides to let you stay aboard indefinitely now. And the cat is a nice bonus too.
Your captain isn’t half-bad company either. He’s still just as annoying as the day you met him, even more so if possible since you’ve gotten to know him. He’s an insufferable flirt, mainly toward you, but also toward others when he wants something. He’ll whisper teasing remarks in your (their) ears, all meant to get under your skin and have you (them) right where he wants. Teasing kisses on your (their) hands and cheeks are commonplace. (Who does he see when he kisses and charms those around him? You or them?) He has a raging gambling addiction, perfectly demonstrated by how he splurged on a poker table and a roulette wheel after only a few discovered treasures. (It doesn’t help how you keep losing every time he challenges you for a round or two.) He never opens up about his past even though you’ve all but spilled your life story to him, from childhood till now. He’ll do as he pleases without warning you beforehand, giving you a scare when he decides to bet his life at a casino or venture deeper than he should into a jungle on a hunch that “there’s more hidden treasure to be found just ahead!”
(You later scold him for his suicidal tendencies while bandaging his wounds with more force than necessary, reminding him that you can hold your own in a fight too! Newly acquired treasure sits just outside the door to the infirmary and he’s beaming all the while, so any hope of changing his mind fizzles out.)
But for all his shortcomings, he makes for a good captain. When confronted by a much larger pirate crew that thinks you’re easy pickings, he first pushes you to safety before diving in headfirst. He distributes treasure fairly and recognizes the value you hold as a medic, always ensuring you have more than enough allotted credits to restock on medicine at every port town. You never find yourself wanting for anything and your days are peaceful. You can sleep in as late as you want and you always have plenty to eat and drink. The ship’s supply of alcohol is always well-stocked with your favorites. You’re richer than ever before and money is of no worry to you now.
The ship also gets several upgrades. After every successful treasure hunt, she gets renovated and upgraded. More masts, an additional sail, a shiny new hull, until there was nothing left of its original structure. Aventurine now commands a true beauty of a ship, one fit for a pirate crew… and perhaps one a bit too big for her measly crew. Most of the ship’s space remains empty. But your quarters are spacious, even bigger than your old room on land. It’s filled with trinkets you’ve collected on your journey and fluffy pillows, and directly connected to the infirmary through a door to make things easy. Even a doctor on land would be envious of the conditions, with plenty of medicine stockpiled and clean from floor to ceiling.
“Shouldn’t we give her a name?” you ask as you set sail the day the last of her original foundation is stripped away. He hums and nods.
“You’re right. Got any ideas?”
“You’re the captain of this ship. You should be the one to decide, not me.”
Aventurine strokes his chin and thinks for a bit.
“How about the Lady Luck?”
“... Seriously? You picked something gambling related?”
He lazily shrugs and grins.
“I’m a gambling man through and through, darling. What else were you expecting from the likes of me?”
A single multicolored eye greets you as he tosses and flicks the poker chip he stole a while ago back and forth. The other eye is obscured by a bejeweled eyepatch and you’re the only one who knows the reason why.
During your first clash against another pirate crew, Aventurine had shielded you from an attack and potentially saved your life. Unfortunately, he couldn’t move away in time and took a knife to the eye. You had worked tirelessly around the clock that night to save his vision, but you weren’t able to. It’s a regret you carry with you at all times now.
“You’re right,” he agrees. When he notices you staring at his eyepatch, he grins.
“Still thinking about old times? Let bygones be bygones now, (Name),” he jokes as he lifts the eyepatch up, revealing the cloudy iris that indicates his vision loss. His words don’t have the intended effect though, and you wordlessly trail your finger down the scar cutting cleanly through the center of his brow bone to his cheekbone. He tenses a bit at the contact, but relaxes at your gentle touch after a few moments.
“Do you… ever regret what happened that night?”
“No,” he admits without any hesitation. “I may have lost my vision, but I saved my pretty nurse who stitched me back together and fretted over me afterward, and that’s enough to make a man do anything. And… well… for my eyes, let’s just say I’d rather gouge them out most of the time.”
“I won’t let you,” you state bluntly and it’s the way you say it that makes Aventurine laugh.
“Of course you wouldn’t, sweetheart. You’re my voice of reason.”
“But why? Do you not like them?”
Aventurine struggles to find the words for once and he makes a face like he’s tasted something bitter.
“… Not particularly,” he admits. There’s a scowl on his face. “They’re unnatural. Don’t tell me you’ve met another person with eyes like mine?”
“Well, that’s true, but-”
Venom creeps into his voice and his scowl deepens.
“There’s so many rumors swirling out there now. Haven’t you heard?”
“No,” you answer truthfully. Aventurine hopes you never hear any of the horrible rumors surrounding him.
You sigh and push his bangs out the way of his good eye.
“I think they’re quite pretty, actually.”
It’s supposed to be an innocent compliment. They really are pretty. Like the colors of a winter sunset, but more intense.
But to your surprise, your captain flinches at your touch and it sends a shock wave of guilt through you. He never shies away from your touch, instead always seeking it out like a spoiled house cat.
To make matters worse, he gets up and leaves. But before he does, you glimpse the expression in his eyes- guilty and defensive, like a wounded animal. The door to his quarters slams shut behind him and all you can do is stand there, frozen with shock.
“What pretty eyes. Tell me, do they shine in the dark?”
Aventurine leans against his bedroom door and quietly groans. He knows you meant it as a genuine compliment and that it was wrong of him to react the way he did, but he can’t help but wonder if you’d still think of him the same way if you knew about the story behind his eyes. Would you think of him any less? Aventurine doesn’t think he’d be able to bear it if he ever saw you look at him with hate and disgust. Or even worse, if you’d end up like everyone else, waiting for the day those eyes grew dull and lifeless.
… He’d gouge his eyes out and walk the plank if that ever happens.
He can’t stop himself from spiraling until he hears a knock at his door.
“Captain?”
He quietly laughs. You always did have a knack for showing up at the perfect time.
The door cracks open, and he sees you standing there with a worried and guilty expression. It makes him feel even worse. It’s not your fault. You wouldn’t have known because he never told you, and he was hoping it’d stay that way, but it looks like he won’t be able to take the coward’s way out on this one.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I didn’t realize my words would affect you that much.”
“It’s alright. I know you meant it as a compliment. There’s nothing to apologize for.”
You narrow your eyes at him in confusion.
“Then why…?”
Aventurine lets out a resigned sigh and steps out onto the deck again, suddenly finding his quarters stuffy.
“It’s a long story. But would you like to hear?”
“I have plenty of time.”
Sitting side by side on the deck that night, he tells you everything about his past that he’s willing to reveal. Some parts have a clever twist that hides the truth while others have been outright omitted. But it’s the closest version of his backstory that he can share without coming clean, and he’s not ready for that- not yet, at least.
“I’ve failed in this aspect of being captain,” he admits as silence blankets the air after his story. “I’ve been keeping too many secrets from you.”
“Captain, everyone’s got their own skeletons in their closets. I know and trust you well enough by now to understand that if you’ve been keeping something secret from me, it’s because you’re not ready to share it, and I respect that.”
You sigh and look up at the stars overhead. It’s a perfectly clear night with mild winds and calm seas.
“… It’s just that one day, I do wish you’d open up more. We’ve been with each other since day one and I’ve told you everything there is to know about me. It would be nice to know a bit more about you.”
He swallows nervously.
“And what if doing so makes me a bad person?”
You fix him with that stare that makes his spine tingle uncomfortably. It’s the look you give him whenever you suspect he’s lying during checkups and you’re prying for the real answer.
“… Well, we’re pirates after all. We’re not exactly good people, are we?”
He can’t help the laugh of relief that escapes him.
“Yeah, you’re right. We aren’t.”
Aventurine also likes to… spoil you, to put it lightly. As your finds become more valuable, the amount of credits he spends on you grows. Clothes are a common gift. Thin silks that feel like you’re wearing nothing, plush furs to drape yourself in, heavy down-stuffed winter coats for ventures up north, and frilly dresses that are a better fit for royalty in your eyes are all sent your way. It’s not an uncommon sight to return to the ship and see several men struggling under the weight of all his purchases while you were busy restocking. It gets to a point where you tell him to stop because your closet is overflowing, but he never listens. “It’s the least you deserve,” is what he always says. “Anything for my beloved nurse that has stuck with me through thick and thin!” At least half of the space in your formerly spacious quarters is now occupied by overflow from your closet.
You also get an upgrade to your uniform around this time. Before, it was whatever you had lying around, but now you have a dedicated set of dresses and pinafore aprons, as well as a nurse’s cap to top it all off.
Cosmetics are also another common gift. He’ll constantly gift you lipsticks with the request to try them all on or expensive perfumes he knows you’ll like. He even gets you an elaborate vanity at one point to store everything. It’s a beautiful, heavy thing made from bronze and requires the strength of four men to carry. There’s a large mirror in the center with ornate molding surrounding it and two smaller ones flanking it. You’ll often see Aventurine leaning against the doorframe through one of them, watching you with a bemused look as you get ready in the morning.
(That is, until you begin throwing pillows at his head and yelling at him to get out.)
But you begin to notice some strange things about your captain as time goes on. You’ll struggle with a chunk of meat during dinner while his unnaturally sharp teeth will tear through it with ease. They’re especially noticeable whenever he smiles, genuine or not. The large, sharp canines gleam under the sun. At one point, you asked if he purposefully sharpens them, partially as a joke, but also out of genuine curiosity. He had thrown his head back and laughed, but he didn’t answer your question. Sometimes, late at night when he thinks you’re asleep, you’ll peek out from behind the door and see the ghostly fire dancing around his blue fingertips. Aventurine’s outfits get progressively more gaudy and flashy as time goes on, and one thing he adds to his wardrobe rotation are metal nail guards. But even so, you notice his fingernails peeking out from underneath that are better described as claws. Heavy gold chokers and necklaces stacked on top of each other are an obligatory part of his look but on the rare occasion he decides to ditch the weight and opts for a high-collared linen shirt instead, you swear those are scales you see peeking out beneath the slipping collar after a long day.
But you merely look the other way. As long as Aventurine remains a good captain, you don’t care who- or what- he is.
It’s around this time you get the third addition to the crew as well.
You’re docked at a pristine port town, which is a rarity to come by. White houses with blue roofs line the cliff sides. The streets are white too and the stone used to form them has been worn down and smoothed out by years of wear and tear. The warm air smells sweet and salty and vaguely of hay. In the town square, it transforms into something heavier and richer. The flowering trees blooming throughout make the air feel almost thick, while the persistent smell of sunbaked herbs and the local cuisine follow you everywhere from the restaurants and food stalls.
Aventurine is pawning off your latest finds at yet another Bonajade Exchange branch (??? Seriously, how many branches does this pawn shop have?) while you’re enjoying yourself in the town square, having already picked up on supplies and sent them back to the ship. The town comes to life at night. There’s a live band playing on a stage set up a few minutes prior with people dancing and drinks being passed around openly even though you’re in the middle of the town square and not in a tavern. You indulge a little, but eventually decide you’ve had enough for the night after a few too many men were too insistent on buying you a drink even after you’ve declined their offers.
The rocking motion of the ship would make most people nauseous, especially someone that just had a few drinks, but you’ve long since gotten used to being at sea. Solid ground underfoot feels unfamiliar now and you let out a content sigh once you’re finally back in your quarters. You get settled in for the night as you wait for your captain to return and proudly show off his earnings from a night of gambling, like he always does. A candle is lit, filling your space with warmth and light as you resume reading a book that Aventurine had picked up for you earlier today.
You’re not sure how long you read for, but when you next look up, you’re shocked at how dark it is outside. A quick glance at your candle that’s almost burnt-out on the nightstand tells you it’s been at least a few hours- and yet, no sight or sound of your captain onboard. It’s silent, save for the sloshing of the waves against the hull outside and the crackling of the wick’s flame as it fights for survival.
Shouldn’t he be back by now?
Curious and concerned, you go searching. Knowing him, he’s either drinking or gambling the night away. With some guidance from the locals, you scout out every tavern and casino in town for him. A quick peek into the windows or door is enough for you- there’s no sign of his blond hair or ostentatious pirate hat anywhere. As an added bonus, catcalls follow you everywhere and it’s enough to make you want to punch your captain in the face when you do see him.
After a while of running around, you’ve just about had it. You’re exhausted, it’s late, and there’s still no sign of him. Where the hell could he have run off to now?
At your wit’s end now, you look at your surroundings and realize you’ve ended up at a university. You do remember seeing a map of the town the day you docked and recall a university in the northernmost reaches of the town limits. This is probably it. And from the looks of it, it’s not that big. Just a few buildings make up the entire campus.
One thing you notice walking around is a flight of stairs leading up the cliffside to what you assume to be an observatory at the top. It’s not off-limits, so you take your chances and ascend the stairs. It’s a clear night and you’re sure you can get a great view of the town from here. But as you climb, you hear voices drifting down. One of them sounds vaguely like… your captain?
You pick up the pace. The stairs are steep and uneven in some areas. Some steps are wet from what you presume is rainwater and you almost fall on several occasions. (The things you do for this man! He should be thankful that you’re always there to ensure his sorry ass stays in line.)
You’re not sure what you were expecting once you reached the observatory, but it certainly wasn’t… this. You see your captain alright, but he’s pressed against the railing that’s the only barrier between him and a long fall down to the turbulent waters beneath. A man with violet hair who you’ve never seen before faces him with his back toward you, pressing a gun against Aventurine’s chest. Strangely enough, Aventurine doesn’t look terrified. In fact, he seems to take delight in the precarious balance his life hangs in, even going so far as to press the barrel of the gun closer to his chest with that same taunting grin on his face all the while. His cheeks are flushed, but whether that be from alcohol or… something else is up for debate. You’re already used to his suicidal tendencies, but just seeing his face after the events of today pisses you off even more.
“Come on, doc. It’ll be worthwhile, I promise. You surely can’t be satisfied in a place like this, am I right?”
“Captain.”
That blissful look on his face vanishes in an instant, replaced by realization and pure fear. The other man turns around and golden eyes meet your ticked-off gaze. You brush the stranger aside and storm over to Aventurine, who looks more terrified of your wrath than any weapon.
“So this is where you’ve been this entire time. Did you lose track of time or something? Because it’s been hours since you were supposed to return! I was running around town, looking like an idiot trying to find you.”
He holds his hands up like he can defend himself from the onslaught coming his way. You jab your finger at his chest and he pouts as he looks away shamefully.
“(Name), at least hear me out first!” he whines. When you raise an eyebrow, he points over at the other man, who clicks his tongue and pointedly looks away.
“I found ourselves a potential third crewmate and was trying to convince him to join! But it doesn’t seem to be working… Care to try your hand?”
“That’s just another way of saying you’re pawning off the hard work to me!” you complain. And yet you humor his demands anyway.
“You are?”
He hmphs and rolls his eyes. Already, he pisses you off.
“Dr. Veritas Ratio, teacher and scholar. And you are?”
“Nurse (Name), working aboard the Lady Luck under the command of our Captain Aventurine.”
“... Said captain is on the verge of collapsing from alcohol poisoning behind you.”
It’s true. He’s clinging to the railing for dear life, the drinks from earlier catching up to him and hitting like a sledgehammer, you imagine.
“Aeons, how much did you drink earlier?” you grumble as you hoist one arm over your shoulder and awkwardly drag him along. He merely hums and buries his nose into your hair, tripping over his two feet as he attempts to walk.
“Mm… You smell nice, (Name). Like the new perfume I got you… hehe…”
“Answer the question, Captain.”
He opts to press his nose into your hair and inhale.
“Oh, not that much. Just… y’know… a couple tankards of beer.”
Meaning that he’s definitely had at least five of them and counting.
“… I’ve heard everything I needed to hear.”
Thankfully, Dr. Ratio seems to be adept at reading social cues and assists you with helping him down the stairs, albeit slowly and awkwardly. You invite him onto the ship and after taking a look around the medical quarters, he makes himself comfortable at your desk. He seems quite pleased, so you take it as some sort of roundabout compliment as you busy yourself with getting your captain to bed. You flip Aventurine over into the recovery position, who flops around aimlessly like a rag doll. Soon enough, you hear him faintly snoring. When you return, Dr. Ratio has taken one of the books shelved on your desk and began thumbing through it.
“You have medical knowledge?” you ask once the door behind you is shut. He barely looks up from the book and continues flipping through its pages.
“I have the title of ‘doctor’ for a reason.”
A doctor. An actual doctor. One step above you, a nurse. He had access to an education far out of your reach, and you had fought tooth and nail for yours.
You can’t help but feel the first pangs of jealousy sink their claws into you and you avert your eyes, humiliated. What purpose would you have aboard the ship should he join as a doctor? What’s stopping your captain from deciding the man in front of you can do everything you can plus more and throwing you off the ship? Granted, any medical professional, doctor or not, is highly sought-after on pirate ships and you believe your captain is above tossing you aside after you’ve already proven your loyalty to him. But the knowledge that he will always be regarded as one step above you, seen as more valuable, is enough to leave a bitter taste in your mouth.
“Overthinking things, are we?”
He meets your gaze with a sharp look of his own.
“Don’t give me that look. Only a fool who wallows in their own ignorance would do such a thing.”
You hadn’t realized you were glaring at him until now.
“Sorry,” you half-heartedly apologize, taking a deep breath to relieve the tight ball of anger in your chest. You just met this man; you know it’s not right to be pissed at him over something like this, but you can’t help it. You massage your temples and gesture for him to continue.
“I am well aware that you are the longtime nurse aboard this ship, and while I have no doubt you’re just as ignorant as the other fools who proclaim themselves to be intelligent and respected in their fields-“
Is he insulting me to my face?!
“- I will acknowledge that you are at least deserving of your title for keeping you and this ship’s captain alive all this time. A commendable feat considering your lack of a higher education. I thus have no intention of stripping you of your role.”
… Well, that’s your biggest concern addressed. Although, was the remark about your lack of education really necessary?
Now no longer worrying about whether or not you’d find yourself back at that place you swore to leave behind, you relax.
“Then what is your intention?”
He huffs and dramatically snaps the book shut.
“I am first and foremost an educator! My mission is to spread knowledge across the world until ignorance is a cured disease. And yet, the board of trustees at the university are doing everything they can to get me to stay. What a pointless endeavor!”
You cast a doubtful glance at him.
“... But you’re a professor. A fresh batch of students is a fresh batch of minds to educate. Isn’t academia where you thrive?”
Dr. Ratio huffs, like he’s having to explain something repeatedly to a child that doesn’t understand.
“Zero points! How can I possibly be content with my situation, knowing there’s a whole world of ignorance out there just waiting to be fixed? Besides, we don’t get many applicants per year.”
“Would you like a way out then?”
After a beat of silence, he sets your book down and turns to face you fully for the first time that night. You take in his ruby-rimmed golden eyes, the color of the sunset a few hours ago, that hold the weight of a genius’s expectations behind them.
“Are you offering me a position aboard the ship?”
“That depends. What skills do you have?”
He puffs his chest out proudly.
“I have eight doctorates in the fields of biology, medicine, natural theology, philosophy, physics, mathematics, engineering… oh, and astronomy. You would be hard-pressed to not glean some value.”
That last part catches your attention.
“Astronomy, you say?”
We are in need of a dedicated navigator… Aventurine can’t be at the helm 24/7.
You turn your attention back to Dr. Ratio, who meets your gaze with a tilt of his head and a raised brow.
“Something on your mind?”
“Have you ever tried your hand at being a ship’s navigator?”
He doesn’t look surprised at your question. It’s like he was anticipating it.
“I can’t say I have,” he admits. “But with my knowledge, it should be child’s play.”
“Don’t say that about something you’ve never tried,” you caution. “If you’re really interested, meet me back here at the docks this time tomorrow night. We’ll see how you do.”
The next night, he’s waiting at the docks with several bags lying beside him. Hm, he must’ve packed all his belongings for a life at sea now. Aventurine whistles at him as you lead him aboard.
“Looks like you’ve made up your mind already, doc. Told you so.”
If looks could kill, Aventurine would be at the bottom of the sea right now.
Once out on the deck, you hand him a sailing chart. Without a hitch, he dives right in. His spyglass is aimed at the sky as he examines the stars and their positions. With your help in hoisting the sails and Aventurine in steering the ship toward the right direction, you’re on track to your next destination.
“Not bad,” you praise. “You’ll need to learn how to steer the ship and how to hoist the sails, but you can learn that in due time.”
“That settles it then, I suppose,” comes Aventurine’s voice from behind. The soft glow of a tea candle flickering within a lantern fills the space as he steps into view.
“Welcome aboard, Ratio.”
He proves to be quite a skilled navigator, and you’re thankful you managed to snatch him up before any other pirate crew could. Even without a sailing chart or in stormy weather, he still manages to ensure you don’t veer off course. It’s truly remarkable, really, as even sailing from north to south is hardly a challenge for him.
He settles into the empty room next door to your quarters. Bookshelves line the walls from floor to ceiling, with several more stacked on his desk and bed. It perpetually smells like clean linens and chalk from the stash he burns through every week solving whatever problem piques his interest, written out on the rolling blackboard by the windows- or through hurling them at your captain with terrifying strength and speed. Sometimes, you’ll stop and stare at the board for a bit, only to give up after realizing you can’t understand a lick of it. It’s usually something physics or math related. If he’s in the room as well, he’ll try explaining it to you, but it all ends up flying over your head anyway.
Soon enough, he lets you call him by his first name without the title out in front- a privilege not even your captain has. When not found on the deck, he can either be found reading and solving problems in his quarters, or hovering by your side.
“Rum mixed with… lime juice?”
You’re in the kitchen, surrounded by supplies. A new shipment of rum and citruses sits in the corner and you’re going through them, preparing the crew’s rations of alcohol.
You nod and toss the rinds over your shoulder into the garbage.
“Stagnant water on ships is a gold mine for diseases and pests. Alcohol is usually a safer alternative, and while the captain and I painstakingly ensure the water onboard is safe to drink…”
You shrug and take an experimental sip of the mixture. The strong burn of alcohol all but scorches your throat on the way down, but it’s a sensation you’ve long grown accustomed to, even liking it by now. The addition of lime makes you purse your lips and raise your brows approvingly. It would be even better with some sugar but alas, it’s a very costly material to transport, even by Aventurine’s standards.
“I suppose there are some vices that just can’t be shaken, like a pirate’s love for alcohol. The lime also prevents scurvy. I bet they don’t teach you this in med school, do they?”
Veritas begrudgingly shakes his head.
“We’re taught about the dangers of scurvy and waterborne disease obviously, but never resort to such… crude solutions.”
You laugh and push a glass toward him.
“Well, this is your life now, and you chose it. Better get used to how things are done around here.”
“I’m not saying I have anything against your methods, as crude as they may be,” he scoffs as he eyes the drink in front of him. You think you see a hint of nervousness in his eyes and smirk. Perhaps it’s Aventurine’s influence rubbing off onto you, but you spot a perfect opportunity to tease him.
“Drink up. Cheers,” you say, raising your glass in a toast. “It’s not half-bad, I promise.”
He lifts the glass to his lips and takes a hesitant sip before sputtering dramatically, face scrunched up in an amusing expression of disgust. You all but cackle at his reaction and down half your glass in one fell swoop.
“Liar,” is all he can manage out as he chugs water to chase away the burn of the drink.
“You’ll be singing the same tune I am in just a few months’ time. Just wait and see, I guarantee it.”
“Or that’s just your alcoholic tendencies speaking.”
“Never claimed I wasn’t one,” you respond with an eye roll as you finish the last bit of your drink. He looks at you with an expression of faux disgust as you leave, then looks down at his drink again as soon as the door closes. With a sudden burst of effort, he downs all of it. Veritas feels like he’s about to start breathing fire, but he holds it in for a few seconds before shakily exhaling.
“… It’s passable, I suppose. Five points.”
It’s some time after this that you welcome your fourth member aboard.
You’re docked at the only port to a mining town that, to your eyes, is on the verge of becoming a ghost town. It’s not winter yet, so the town hasn’t completely frozen over and snowed in (which is common this far north) but it’s still so bitingly cold. Supposedly, this is the warmest it gets year-round, but you still find yourself shivering underneath all your layers as you pace back and forth to prevent your limbs from turning into icicles. Even Aventurine, who likes to drink and gamble the day away after docking, keeps things on land as short as possible before running back to the ship to warm up. (Not like there are any taverns or casinos in a place this miserable anyway.)
You’re only here because there’s a severe storm blocking your way and this was the only port that you could dock at. All others, including the one you had left, were too far away to even consider rerouting to. Aventurine is absolutely miserable at the situation and you’re no better. Veritas is probably the worst of you three, being even more snippy than usual and holing up in his quarters.
One thing you notice is the lack of trees. According to the locals, severe runoff from mining activities has led to trees spontaneously igniting from the industrial chemicals in the soil, leaving only burnt sticks behind. It’s quite sad, you think. The people here can’t even appreciate nature’s beauty.
Another thing you noticed as soon as you docked are the heavy respirators the residents wear. There are newer models on the market that are lighter, smaller, and just plain better, but the ones you see look like metal helmets from times of war rather than medical devices. They’re old, archaic and clunky. They cover the entire face and you can hear every labored inhale and exhale through the little grate in front of the mouthpiece.
It’s also so, so gray and dreary. A thick smog blankets the town thanks to the smokestack belching chemicals into the air. There’s a persistent acrid stench sticking to your clothes and skin and hair that no matter how hard you scrub, just won’t go away. Your throat feels scratchy and you’re always coughing and soon enough, you’re forced to don the same respirator everyone else does. You’re uncomfortably hot under the full face of metal and your neck is sore from its weight, while the vision in your left eye is always tinged red because of the glass used for the lens. You only wear it when you have to leave the ship, which is almost never. Aventurine laughed at how stupid you looked at first but before long, he was subjected to the same miserable fate as you.
“I can’t wait till we finally leave this place.”
“Tell me about it.”
On the day before you’re scheduled to finally depart, you decide to explore a bit further than you usually do. You hitch a ride with a resident past the outskirts of the town to the residential area. The pollution out here is significantly less, but still dangerously high by all standards. There’s actually vegetation out here! (Sparse blades of grass that haven’t been cut in ages and come up to your kneecaps. The soil is strangely wet and sticky and you wince after seeing the clumps of mud sticking to your shoes, even more so after recalling the extensive soil pollution plaguing the town.) Rows of identical concrete blocks are stacked alongside each other, meant to be bare-bones apartments. Faded slogans are painted onto the sides of them (“peace to the world!” is a common one you see) and there are small playgrounds out in front situated here and there.
It’s where you also find a girl around your age. She sits with her back to you as she hunches over something. It’s the bits of white hair peeking out from under the respirator that get your attention. You nudge the resident you’re walking alongside and look over at her.
“Who’s she?”
“Ah, that’s little Jelena. Though, she prefers to be called Topaz these days. Don’t ask me why.”
“What’s she working on?”
“Who knows? Beats me. All I know is she’s always mumbling something about leaving this place. Utter foolishness, if you ask me. Once you’re here, you’re never getting out.”
You stay put in your tracks examining her. She doesn’t seem to have noticed you, continuing with whatever she’s working on. The resident looks at you strangely but after a rushed and awkward wave goodbye, leaves.
“... Miss Topaz?”
She jolts and looks over her shoulder at you. Her respirator obscures her face but her posture is guarded and defensive. You can’t blame her.
“Who’re you? And how do you know my name?”
“A resident passing by told me.”
She takes a quick glance at you from head to toe.
“You’re not from here, are you?”
You laugh, hoping to dispel the tension and take a step forward. She looks a bit nervous, but hasn’t left yet. Good.
“What gave it away?”
“Nobody here has clothes that nice and clean. Or hair that shiny and well-maintained.”
She tugs on her own rags and choppy hair for emphasis. Sensing an opportunity, you sit down next to her and take your scarf off, wrapping it around her. Topaz jolts but stills when she feels how soft the material is. With a sudden effort, she yanks the respirator off her head and tosses it aside carelessly to bury her face further into the scarf.. The underlayer of her hair is a shockingly bright red. You match her actions and toss yours aside too. The acrid smell of polluted air hits your nose but you maintain a pleasant smile even though you want to scrunch your nose up and start coughing.
“Keep it,” you say, patting her shoulders. She rolls the scarf fringe around between her fingers, marveling at how thick the yarn is and how it doesn’t fray immediately. “I have more clothes than I know what to do with.”
Topaz lets the scarf fall from her fingers and looks up at you behind untrimmed bangs.
“... Who are you?”
She’s curious now. An enigmatic smile graces your face.
“Would you like to know?”
A nod.
“Nurse (Name), serving the Lady Luck, a vessel operated under the command of our pirate captain Aventurine.”
“... Pirates?”
Your gaze drifts to her workbook. There’s still questions in her eyes but she turns toward you a bit more to give you a better glance at what she’s working on, sensing your curiosity. A chart filled with lots of numbers and scribbled calculations all around it.
“What’re you working on?”
“Accounting. I’m studying hard to get out of here. Everyone says I shouldn’t bother and just settle down with a husband already, but I have my sights set on something far greater than what this life can give me.”
You sympathetically hum and nod. There’s a loud squeak and something falls into your lap out of nowhere. It’s a… piglet?? Tiny for one as well. It squeals and flails around a bit in your lap until Topaz swoops in and lifts it up.
“Numby! Stop that!”
It squeals some more as Topaz continues lecturing it. You watch the exchange with a mix of confusion and concern for Topaz’s life.
“Is this… your pet?”
“Hm? Oh, yeah. This is Numby. They’re not just my pet though! They can accurately sense where riches are located and over the years, have even learned how to perform jobs related to security, debt collection, and actuarial sciences!”
The expression on your face must speak for yourself because she laughs and tosses you a gold coin. Numby squeals and flails in her arms, trying to go after it, but Topaz doesn’t budge.
“Don’t believe me? Toss this coin out there and watch Numby go after it.”
You catch the coin deftly. Topaz covers Numby’s eyes and hands you a pocket knife. You raise an eyebrow.
“Go bury it. Give Numby a challenge. Not like it really is one, but make them jump over a hurdle or two.”
“You can use weapons?”
“Course I can.”
She looks up at the perpetually gray sky and the plumes of pollution being spewed out.
“There’s not a lot of people here, but life is hard and sometimes people try to take out their frustrations on those around them. Crime is a lot more rampant than you’d expect in a place like this, and unless you want to be robbed completely defenseless, it’s a given to always have something on you.”
You feel like your lucky stars have aligned and all the Aeons themselves are smiling down on you. By Aventurine’s luck, this girl is everything you need all in one package! You feel like this is hardly real.
“What weapons can you use?”
She shrugs. “Knives, mostly. They’re the most accessible around here. But I have experience with guns too. Swords as well. Nabbed them off the drunken sailors a while back to protect myself and Numby against some idiots who had the really bright idea to turn them into bacon.”
… You feel like you’re ascending right now. Everything is aligning exactly the way you need them to.
“Stolen a few times before, eh? Looks like you’ve already got experience in piracy.”
She scowls at you and you take that as your cue to bury the coin. You choose a location that’s a few apartment blocks down from hers. The knife sinks easily into the sticky, polluted soil as you dig a little hole before burying the coin. You avoid getting any dirt on your hands, not wanting to even think about what the contamination could and would do to your skin…
“Finished,” you call out as you make your way back to her. Topaz lifts her hand from Numby’s eyes and with a slap to the rear, sends the piglet running. They run faster than you expected them to with their stubby legs and soon disappear from sight.
“They’ll be waiting for us where the treasure is. But in the meanwhile, we can walk and talk.”
The two of you begin walking side by side, this time with less tension in the air.
“What a drag it is being pressured to settle for less,” you empathize, shifting the conversation back to the earlier topic. “What do you want to be?”
“A businesswoman of sorts, climbing up the ladder until I’m sitting at the top. Then no one can tell me what to do.” Even as she walks, she still continues to work, her pencil flying across the page as she performs calculations faster than you can keep up with.
You raise your eyebrows and let out an “ohhhhhhh” in response. A golden opportunity has presented itself.
“Well, what do you want in life then?”
“... I suppose it’s to solve problems. There’s many of them that exist in this world and I like solving them. It makes me feel nice, knowing I’m doing something to improve people’s lives.”
“Why not a teacher or something similar then? You’re quite good at math, after all.”
She shakes her head. “Not enough jobs in education around here. The nearest school is in the neighboring town, which is over half an hour away. The nearest university is several hours away in the city. There’s no demand for education in these parts, so there’s no supply of jobs and the current positions are occupied by people who’d rather die than resign.”
She flips to the next page and dives right in.
“But companies are always hiring, right? I heard from the sailors down at the dock that there’s a few that are rapidly growing and are in need of people. So that’s why I want to become a businesswoman. Because it’s the fastest way to achieve what I want- happiness. And that’s how a job should be.”
You drum your fingers along your arm excitedly and lean forward with a conspiratorial look on your face. Drawn in by your expression, Topaz can’t help but lean in a bit too.
“What if I said that although I can’t land you a job at a big company, I can guarantee you riches and a chance to explore the world? You can also finally escape those annoying aunties who keep pestering you about marriage and sending men your way who you can’t even bear to look at,” you whisper, temptation and promise dripping from every word.
Her pencil stills, she comes to a halt, and she looks at you fully for the first time. Her eyes are a brilliant purple with flecks of blue and yellow. Despite the harsh conditions surrounding her, they still retain plenty of life. Quite different from Aventurine, you think. Makes you wonder what he went through to have the life sucked out of his eyes.
But soon enough, there’s a scowl back on her face and she begins walking again.
“Money is a means, not an end. I may be poor, but I’m not studying out of greed. Work should make you happy. If that’s all there is to offer, then I won’t be happy and I can’t have that happening.”
“How does solving long-buried mysteries sound? It should scratch that problem-solving itch of yours.”
She hesitates and you can tell she’s starting to seriously consider your offer. You just have to keep pushing and choosing your words carefully.
“I don’t see how piracy helps anyone though,” she says stubbornly and you mentally sigh. She really wants to know what she’s getting herself into, huh? But that’s already two of her three needs you’ve got checked off and you already have a counterargument prepared for this.
“We only search for and discover buried treasure that no one has laid claim to and is free game for all interested pirates,” you calmly respond. “None of that town-looting business you might hear about from the sailors down at the dock. And should you wish to donate your share of money earned to philanthropic organizations or invest it elsewhere… you’re more than welcome to. We won’t stop you.”
From the look on her face, victory has already been secured. And yet, she looks uncertain. Unsure.
“But… Why me? Why little Jelena from this run-down mining town when there are so many smart, talented people out there waiting to be discovered?”
There’s a loud squeal up ahead and Numby is jumping up and down in front of the spot you had buried the coin. Topaz unearths it with the knife and pulls out the dirt-stained coin. So she was right. Even better.
You reach your hand out to her, just like how you did when you made your offer to Aventurine and Veritas.
“Why, it’s simple. We both get what we want. You get a ticket out of here and a hefty share of our riches, while we get a capable bookkeeper who prevents our captain from gambling away too much money, plus a master gunner who’ll defend the ship from foes.”
Your hand remains extended. She stares at it, then at you disbelievingly.
“I…”
You wave the gold coin you plucked out of her gloved hands without her noticing and wave it in front of her face.
“Every investment has its risks, right? I suppose it’s natural to want to pick the one that has the least risk involved when you’re putting down something as important and uncertain as your future as collateral. But you’re still young with plenty of time left and dreams unfulfilled. If you play it safe, you won’t be able to make a killing later on in life. My days are freer now. All of us are. And I know that freedom to do as you please is what’ll bring you that happiness you so desire.”
Silence greets you. You swallow nervously. (You hope she didn’t see it.) You’re no businessperson, but you know an opportunity when you see it. And this is one you absolutely cannot let slip through your fingers. You’re gripping the coin as tight as you can and your hands are cold and clammy beneath your gloves.
Her shoulders begin to shake. Your hand twitches and you think you’ve somehow upset her until she begins to laugh heartily. It’s loud and free, echoing off the walls of the apartment blocks. It’s the prettiest sound you’ve heard in this whole town.
“Wow, talk about a win-win situation! Just the way I like to go about doing business. Nurse (Name), I’ll be under your care going forward!”
She whistles for Numby, who comes running over, oinking.
“... You’re not bringing anything else with you? We don’t have to leave immediately, you know. We still got a whole day before we leave.”
Topaz shakes her head and lifts Numby onto her shoulders.
“Nothing worth bringing along. Besides, what’s a better way to signify a fresh start in life by leaving everything behind?”
“Not saying goodbye either?”
Her enthusiastic demeanor fades to something more solemn and her pace slows.
“... No one here supports my dreams. If they didn’t support me from the very start, they don’t deserve to see me at my proudest.”
You hitch a ride back to the docks with another resident. On the way back, Topaz nudges you in the side.
“Are you sure you aren’t a businessperson? That was a very solid offer you drafted and presented to me back there. I couldn’t have done much better myself. You’ve even got the silver tongue for success as well. Perhaps an ambassador of sorts, at the very least?”
You laugh and brush aside her compliments.
“I’m truly flattered, but I really am just a nurse onboard… oh. Right.”
“... Is something the matter?”
“It’s just… I never told our Captain that a fourth member might be joining us. Ah… he’s in for quite the surprise when we get back to the docks.”
In my defense, it’s not like I could’ve told him anyway while I was so far away from our ship…
Her face falls. Wait, you can’t have this happening already! Not when you just convinced her to join!
“I’ll vouch for you,” you quickly reassure. “He may be annoying and difficult to work with, but he’s not unreasonable. Besides, I’ve been a crewmate for the longest. If there’s anyone he’s going to listen to, it’s me.”
You find Aventurine lounging around in his quarters when you return. He gets up to welcome you back with an eager grin and an embrace, but pauses when he sees Topaz and Numby behind you.
“Oh? Who’s this?”
You plant yourself between them.
“Topaz, meet Captain Aventurine. You’ll be working under him from this day forward.”
As per his usual nature, he merely laughs and extends his hand. Topaz firmly grasps and shakes it.
“A new recruit,” he chuckles. “Welcome aboard the Lady Luck then. We could always use some more helping hands around here. (Name), why don’t you go show her around the ship?”
But there’s a look in his eyes that follows you into the late hours of the night, through showing her the layout of the ship and introducing her to Veritas who looked as if he couldn’t care less, and the extravagant dinner to celebrate her arrival.
You and I need to talk.
It’s only after everyone has gone to sleep that Aventurine seeks you out. Topaz is sleeping soundly in your bed and you’re leaning against the doorframe outside, waiting for him. When he does appear, the usual carefree smirk is gone, instead replaced by a more serious expression.
“Really? A new crewmate without my-”
You violently shush him.
“She’s sleeping!” you hiss. He rolls his eyes but listens all the same.
“... I’m not saying I’m doubting your ability to seek out talented people,” he begins, voice a whisper this time. “But what if she betrays us? And we’ve been just fine so far with the three of us. What can she do that we can’t?”
You roll your eyes.
“Aventurine-”
“Kakavasha.”
“What?”
His intense gaze doesn’t waver. Ghost fire sprouts from his fingertips and dances wildly around him. A wisp lands on your hand. It’s warm, pleasantly so.
“Kakavasha. That’s my real name. Call me that, but only when we’re alone.”
“... Really? You decide to finally open up in the middle of an argument?” you grumble. “There’s a time and place for everything, y’know…”
He blinks at you innocently and you resist the urge to push him overboard. Instead, you settle for coughing and swatting the wisp of ghost fire away from you.
“... As I was saying, Captain Kakavasha, she won’t betray us.”
“A bold statement to make with such confidence. How can you say for certain?”
“Kakavasha, this girl came from nothing. You saw the state of town she grew up in. No friends, no connections, no way out. But we gave her the escape she’s been looking for. She won’t sell us out, not while she’s indebted to us.”
You hear a sudden noise behind the door and freeze. It’s silent for several more agonizing moments until you finally relax. She probably just shifted around in her sleep. You really hope she didn’t wake up or hear any of that…
“But if she decides to leave of her own accord to chase her dream further, then who are we to stop her? Of course, even if she tries to turn us in, the authorities won’t be able to catch us,” you joke, trying to ease his fears.
Aventurine hums. He doesn’t look moved.
“So? What can she do that we can’t?”
… But he doesn’t press the prior topic any further so you assume it’s ok for now.
You beam and hold out the workbook you swiped off her earlier.
“Captain, we’ll have a dedicated accountant on board now! Just look at this. I saw her complete this entire page in no more than five minutes! Not only is she fast, but she’s accurate! Here, check for yourself if you don’t believe me.”
Aventurine takes it and examines it with an air of disinterest surrounding him. He glances at it for a few seconds before tossing it back.
“Yeah, it’s all correct.”
“But that’s not all!” you continue. “Her little pet that’s always following her? Apparently, they’re skilled in security, debt collection, and actuarial sciences!”
The silence that follows your statement speaks for itself.
“... Don’t look at me like that.”
“Are you drunk right now, (Name)?”
“Hey!” you exclaim indignantly, before remembering that Topaz is still asleep. “I am not! I’ll admit, I was just quoting her claims but her pet is really good at detecting treasure. I buried a gold coin and they found it with no trouble. Kakavasha, imagine how useful they would be.”
“Pigs are a symbol of good luck aboard a ship…” he mumbles to himself and it’s a sign you’re a step closer to convincing him.
“... Should we introduce her to Jade?” you ask. Aventurine looks at you like you’re insane. Then, as if considering your offer, looks at your door as if seeing through it to the girl sleeping in your bed.
“I know you’re good at math and business too, but wouldn’t it be nice to have someone else equally as skilled on board? With a bit of refinement from Jade, she’ll be just as qualified as any other licensed professional out there,” you plead.
He shakes his head. “If you want me to be the bookkeeper as well, I can do that no problem. If you’re adamant about her joining, you’ll have to try harder than that.”
“You’re a pain in the ass.”
“Your pain in the ass, sweetheart.”
“Shut up and don’t call me that, especially right now,” you growl. He merely hums and smiles, his expression strangely cat-like. He wants to make things difficult for you? Fine. Time to bring out the big guns then.
“She’s skilled with weapons.”
“...”
“...”
“How skilled? And with what types?”
Checkmate.
“Knives, mostly. But she has experience with guns and swords too.”
You can practically see the gears turning in his head and hear his thoughts. He must be thinking about the weapons piled away in the armory with no one skilled enough to use them. With Topaz on board, they’d be put to good use for once- and after enough training from her, there was nothing the crew would fear.
“... Of course, I still have to personally see what she’s capable of.”
He glances at the clock hanging above his dresser mirror.
“I’ll see to it tomorrow morning. Tell her to meet me on the deck first thing after waking up. I’ll be testing her aim and accuracy, among other factors.”
You’re woken up the next morning by the sound of gunshots. Several of them. Thinking you’re under attack, you scramble to your feet and stumble onto the deck only to see Topaz shooting some bottles lined up on the railing- and she’s hitting every one of them.
Aventurine takes in the sight of you in your pajamas and unbrushed hair. A snort escapes him.
“Good morning, my lovely nurse. Did you sleep well?”
… The nerve of this man. Then again, he did warn you the night before, so it’s not like you can blame him for your own forgetfulness.
He stops you before you can storm off though, beckoning Topaz over.
“Congratulations,” he says while clapping. “Thanks to my beloved’s recommendation and your mastery over weapons, I hereby welcome you aboard the ship as our master gunner, Topaz.”
She excitedly shakes his hand before enveloping you in a bone-crushingly tight hug.
“Thank you! I promise I won’t let you down. I’ll pay you back double- no, triple the amount of investment you’ve put in me. And I always deliver on my promises!”
Your thoughts are a whirlwind as you watch her run down to where your quarters are.
… But I never saw it as you owing me?
Aventurine’s light laughter pulls you out of your thoughts. You scowl at him as he stops before you, gently combing out the tangles in your bedhead with his fingers.
“Stop referring to me by those pet names. People are going to get the wrong idea about us.”
“Oh? I wouldn’t mind that one bit.”
“Veritas has already been giving me strange looks whenever he sees us two together. Add Jele- Topaz into the mix and I don’t think I’ll be able to handle it.”
“Handle what? Sweetheart, it’s just the four of us out on the open sea!”
He spins you around in his arms and you let yourself be dragged along.
“That’s exactly what I mean! And don’t ‘sweetheart’ me!”
“Sure, sure. Whatever you say, sweetheart.”
“You-!”
Topaz settles into the room across the hall from yours. While the space is initially barren, it quickly gets filled up thanks to you. She raids your overflowing wardrobe and takes whatever interests her periodically and half the time, you don’t even realize what she stole thanks to your captain constantly spoiling you. Cosmetics are another common victim of her theft, but it’s more noticeable, especially if it’s a perfume. Books that you’ve finished are piled up in her room and she’ll often come to you with questions about your thoughts after she’s finished reading one. Numby has their own little bed at the foot of hers and you’ll frequently see them chasing Doubloon around the deck.
It seems that Topaz is good at everything and anything she sets her mind to, because she becomes frighteningly skilled with weapons in a short period of time. Every day, she holds lessons teaching you all how to use an array of weapons, and she’s quite the skilled teacher too. But when class isn’t in session, she can often be found out on the main deck during a sunny day, humming a tune to herself as she cleans out the many pricey pistols and rifles you’ve plundered over the course of your journeys. Or by your side, but that’s a given by now.
She also gets… seasick. Rather easily too. It’s her one fatal weakness. She gets used to it over time, but if the seas are rougher than usual, it’s guaranteed that you’ll find her hurling into the ocean, face pale and hair sticking to her forehead. And sometimes, it’ll still happen even when the seas are calm! It gets to the point where she’s so fed up she goes to Aventurine himself and demands answers. But he merely tips his head back and laughs.
“That’s the Lady Luck for you! She’s a fickle one like her namesake. Sometimes, she’ll try and drown you just for spite. She keeps even me on my toes at all times and I’m her captain. Isn’t that right?”
Aventurine pats the shiny wooden helm. As if responding to him, she creaks and rolls precariously even though the waves are calm.
The four of you now are a complete crew. Incredibly small by all means, but a crew that operates smoothly like a well-oiled machine and one to be feared.
As there’s so few of you on board, all of you have to double down, or even triple down, on roles. Veritas is simultaneously the boatswain and navigator, while Topaz is master gunner and master at arms while also being the bookkeeper. You’re “the ship’s beloved nurse”, as so lovingly referred to by Aventurine, while also being the quartermaster. Smaller roles such as cooking and carpentry are handled on a day by day basis and whoever’s available at the moment- although it usually ends up being you after Numby ran amok in the kitchen and almost burnt the ship down.
Guess being second in command is the bare minimum you deserve after being with him the longest among everyone on board. Although, there’s no real sense of hierarchy when there’s only four of you in total…
Unlike other pirate captains out there, he wasn’t a rich man or a legitimate captain or even a high-ranking officer on a private vessel before becoming captain. Rather, there’s almost nothing known about him and it’s what makes others regard him with suspicion. How can a man who started off with nothing sail the seas with such ease, outshining even those who were born with a silver spoon in their mouths?
But it’s all forgotten about in the face of his achievements- always going where no man has dared gone before and finding treasures beyond a pirate’s wildest imagination, as well as discovering several legendary treasures that have been lost for generations. Sea monsters that have been terrorizing ships for years meet their watery demise by your hand with Topaz leading the fray. Even the harshest of seas and weathering three days and nights with little sleep and food isn’t enough to shake your spirits. Mythical beasts meet death one after another and it’s around after the third creature slayed- a kraken whose single tentacle was longer than your ship measured from prow to stern, strong enough to crush her hull into splinters with ease- that you know you’ve made a name for yourselves. Whispers follow you everywhere you go on land and you’ll always hear dramatized retellings of your battles and treasures discovered while passing by taverns.
The bounty on your heads also increases with each treasure you discover. It wasn’t until the four of you banded together that wanted posters started being put out. The amounts offered started off small at first, but after more and more valuable treasures were discovered, the number of zeros at the end keeps increasing until it’s the staggering number it is today. It becomes a point of pride, seeing how quickly the amount offered spikes with each town you stop at and you’ll have a good laugh over it, especially if the authorities think they’re fast enough to arrest you. You’ll take your sweet time fleeing as officials scurry after you like drunken idiots with two left feet- and giving them a fair share of trouble too. By the time they catch up with you at the port, you’re already long gone with a stash of stolen weapons and alcohol onboard- and a horrifyingly long tab under their name at the local tavern.
All the while having a crew of only three under Aventurine’s command. Truly a once-in-a-lifetime kind of pirate captain.
As word spreads from port to port about his unbelievable luck in finding treasure, his reputation grows and so does the number of people looking to join his crew. At every port, he welcomes anyone wishing to join with open arms. But not everyone is worthy of joining. You secretly put every applicant through a series of tests to see if they’re qualified including, but not limited to: seeing what skills they have to offer that you don’t possess already, if they can handle Ratio’s admittedly hardass personality at times, if they can satisfactorily perform the jobs of upwards of three people, as well as their motives among others.
And of course, dealing with Aventurine. He’s in a category of his own.
As expected, none of them last more than an hour. Shame. More hands on deck would always be appreciated.
All of this leads to your reputation as a small but tight-knit crew that would defend each other to the death. Regardless of the size or might of the ship that dares to challenge you, you always emerge victorious. Whether it be down to dumb luck or the collective desire to protect home, no one makes it out alive after encountering you. It’s enough to tell other pirate crews to steer clear, especially after you had considerably roughed up other crews more than twice your size. After the first few encounters that resulted in many dead pirates, you all decide to raise a red flag. It warns others that your crew will refuse to spare the lives of any opponent that comes your way. You’ve actually seen ships turn and head the other way after seeing yours. Now, whether that be from the red flag or upon recognizing the Lady Luck, you’re not sure, but it means less work for you either way, so you aren’t keen on prying too deep.
Surprisingly, Aventurine doesn’t like to settle things with a duel unless he has to. Rather, his preferred method is with a game. He’ll invite the captain of the other ship below deck for a game of poker or blackjack rather than clashing swords and guns. The wager? The same as usual- the lives of the crew and the supplies on board. The loser and his crew would have to walk the plank and all treasures aboard would be handed over to the winning party. It’s not often it happens, but it’s still a nerve-wracking experience each time. Topaz had nearly passed out from anxiousness the first time he’d bet her life alongside yours and Ratio’s not long after she’d joined, while Ratio had lifted Aventurine up by the collar and nearly thrown him overboard. It was only thanks to your intervention and pleading that your captain hadn’t met his end that day.
… Safe to say, many a pirate crew have lost their lives and treasure this way.
Like the crew that was idiotic enough to challenge Aventurine’s luck and consequently met their end just a few minutes ago.
You watch as the captain of the ship anchored across from yours goes overboard with a resounding splash. His crew had already jumped before him.
“That’s the last of ‘em,” says Topaz as she confirms with the spyglass. “Ratio and Cap’n are going through and seeing what treasure they had. But what would we do about their ship?”
“Leave it. We don’t have any cannons on board to blast it to smithereens and it's not worth adding another vessel to our fleet.”
Veritas and Aventurine push several treasure chests across the gangplank. Once the last of them are on your ship, Veritas lifts the gangplank and weighs the anchor and soon, you’re off again.
“Let’s see what we have in here,” says Aventurine as you all stroll over curiously. He pops the lids off the chests and collective “oohs” and “aahs” fill the air as you marvel at the sparkling treasure filled to the brim inside. Aventurine lets out an appreciative whistle and lets a handful of multicolored gemstones slip through his fingers.
“Have at it. Go and take your pick.”
Veritas snatches up the sailing charts while Topaz lays claim to the abundance of weapons. Her eyes are sparkling as she looks at the weapons in much need of some love and a deep-cleaning, and you can already tell what she’ll be up to for the next week or so. Meanwhile, you go through the chests with slim hope they’ll contain some medical supplies. To your disappointment, but not surprise, you find none. You instead settle on some pearl jewelry that catches your eye.
“You guys barely took anything,” comments Aventurine as he peers into the chests again. “They’re still practically full.”
“That’s because gold and jewelry can only get us so far,” you remind him as he steps behind you to fasten the string of pearls around your neck. The cold metal of his nail guards and warmth of his fingertips lightly brushing over the nape of your neck make you shudder. From the faint chuckle that escapes him, your action didn’t go unnoticed.
“Credits are where it’s really at,” adds Topaz as she gets to sharpening and polishing a sword. Aventurine rolls his eyes and scoffs.
“Of course the budding businesswoman would say that.”
He barely ducks out of the way in time to avoid Numby being chucked toward his head.
Heavy wind and rain batters the Lady Luck later that night. But it’s cozy and warm beneath the deck in your dining room. Mismatched dishes and cups cover the round table the four of you are seated around, the food having long since been polished off. Numby is in a food coma by Topaz’s feet and Doubloon purrs contentedly in your lap. Veritas had gone off to bed earlier and Topaz is mumbling incoherently to herself, having drank more than she usually does in one sitting. With Aventurine’s help, you help Topaz to her feet and tuck her into bed while Numby sleepily trots after you.
The two of you are back in the kitchen, silently doing the dishes and cleaning the space. When you’re finished, you bid him goodnight until you feel his hand latch onto your sleeve.
“What is it?”
“... Stay. Please.”
“... Captain, did you have too much to drink at dinner earlier?”
“I’m fine,” he grumbles. “Not even tipsy.”
The pink flush on his cheeks makes you doubt his words, but you let him lead you toward his quarters. The space is warm and extravagantly decorated. Atlases and maps are piled atop the heavy wooden desk in the corner with several candles burning throughout that fill the room with light. His wardrobe is even more packed than yours, overflowing to the point where you can barely make out the original floor beneath the heaps and piles of clothing. You carefully step over what you believe is a pile of silken robes on the way to his bed, where you lay him to sleep amongst the many fluffy pillows and heavy blankets covering the mattress.
He stops you again as you’re about to leave.
“Don’t.”
“Captain, you have to go to sleep soon.”
“I’m not tired,” he argues childishly. “I have something I need to tell you.”
The uncharacteristic seriousness of his voice has you straightening up. You cast a glance at the door to ensure it’s locked as he sits up and drapes a luxurious fur over your shoulders. He pats the empty space next to him and after a moment of hesitation over the implications of getting into bed with your captain, you join him.
“Truth be told, I haven’t been able to sleep lately,” he laments. “I’ve been plagued by nightmares…”
It’s only now you notice the dark circle under his exposed eye and a pang of guilt strikes your heart. You cautiously remove the bejeweled eyepatch and expose his blind eye- a privilege granted to only you- and frown at the sight.
“How long has this been going on for?”
“A while now,” he grumbles. You click your tongue and your frown deepens.
“Why didn’t you come to me about this earlier?”
Aventurine rolls his eyes.
“Please. It’s nothing worth worrying your pretty head over.”
The remark has the opposite effect he intended. You glare at him and angrily tug on his ear.
“Captain, I think you’ve forgotten this, but it’s our duty to ensure you’re fit to sail even if you do piss us off to no extent at times. I’m responsible for ensuring you’re in good health, Topaz is responsible for making sure we can defend ourselves, while Ratio is in charge of making sure we don’t veer off course. We are all your responsibility just as much as you are ours.”
He sighs and looks away. Figures. He should’ve known better than to expect you’d let his neglectfulness slip by the wayside. Meanwhile, you roll your neck and irritatedly sigh.
“You mentioned nightmares. Do you want to talk about them?”
He keeps avoiding eye contact. With a resigned sigh, you lean against him languidly, head resting on his shoulder. Aventurine stiffens, clearly not used to touch, but relaxes after a few seconds. A hand comes to grasp yours.
“... They always start off the same way,” he begins. “We’re lost at sea somehow and there’s always foul weather. Amidst the lighting, a ghost ship is illuminated.”
He swallows.
“We then investigate that ship to discover that her hull is filled to the brim with gold and treasures alike, but no captain or crew on board.”
Aventurine begins fiddling with the poker chip he always carries on him.
“And this is where things can change. Sometimes, I’ll turn and see that she’s hung you all before my eyes. Other times you’ll all have gone overboard, drowned by a rogue wave snatching everyone up except for me. Sometimes she’ll even steal my sight. Either way, they all end the same way. I’m cursed to be her captain forever, sailing the seas without an end in sight. A captain that didn’t go down with his ship and left without a crew.”
He lets out a dry, humorless laugh and tucks the chip back into his pocket. You swallow dryly.
“Do you think it has anything to do with…?”
You look down at his hands, then back up at him. He doesn’t meet your gaze.
“... How much do you know?”
It sounds more like a threat than a question- but a weak one at that. You scoff and take his hands in yours, taking care to remove the nail guards one by one as well.
“What do you mean by that? Kakavasha, you know by now I couldn’t care less about who you are. And honestly, I’m kind of offended that you think I would,” you sigh as you remove his hat and the teal bandana wrapped around his head. “All this time together and I was under the impression you held me in higher regard than that.”
“Cut the theatrics,” he grumbles. You toss his hat and bandana off to the side and pull the blankets snugly over you both.
“But a ghost ship, hm?” you say, eyeing the stack of open books on his desk. “That’s never a good sign. Surely we’re not sailing towards our imminent deaths, right?”
He draws you closer as you roll over onto your stomach and gaze up at him with sleepy eyes. He feels his heart somersault at the proximity and your warmth seeping into the sheets. It’s an unfamiliar feeling he’s not quite comfortable with yet and tries to play it off with a laugh.
“I’d sure hope not.”
But it’s the first time he’s met your gaze this entire night. You meet his eyes unflinchingly, as you always do, with a lazy smile as you shift onto your side.
“... There’s no storm that Veritas can’t lead us out of,” you quietly reassure. “No monster that Jelena can’t kill. No injury that I can’t heal.”
A hand sneaks out from beneath the covers to grasp his.
“And no captain better fit to lead us through the storm than you. So chin up, ok? We’ll make it out together on the other side surrounded by calm seas just fine.”
Aventurine shakily exhales. There’s still more on his mind but… forget it. They’re not worth worrying you over.
“... If you say so, sweetheart.”
“‘Course I do. Because I believe in your abilities.”
He stares at you disbelievingly before bursting out into laughter.
“You really are something, you know? Something so incredible I could practically kiss you right now.”
“Then do it.”
Your gaze is steadfast like it’s always been ever since joining. Not once have you ever flinched away from witnessing every aspect about him, both pretty and ugly. Every reckless, stupid, horrible decision he’s ever made was an attempt to chase you off the ship so you wouldn’t see him for who he really is. But for some reason, whether it be your persistence or having figured out his motives, you’ve stuck around.
He’s a coward of a man at heart, but you’ve surely seen through his grandeur by now. You may pretend to be a mere nurse, but Aventurine knows that’s far from the case. You surely have to know his biggest, darkest secret by now, yes?
“And if I don’t?”
“Then I’ll tell Ratio that you’re the one who’s been leaving obscene doodles on his chalkboard and Topaz that you’re the reason for Numby’s sudden weight gain.”
“Seems like my hand has been forced,” he chuckles. “Fine. You win this round, my beloved nurse.”
The rain continues pouring outside, but it’s still warm and dry beneath the deck. And if one kiss leads to something that lasts until the candles burn out, then…
That’s a secret for you to keep then, yes?
It’s not the sun that wakes you the next morning. Rather, it’s the weight of a blond man sprawled out on top of you that does.
“Kakavasha… get off me. You’re heavy and I can’t breathe.”
“Mmm… no. You’re comfy.”
His arms tighten around your waist as you flail around and try to shake him off.
“Captain, your duties and crew await you! Let go of me!”
After some more incessant squirming and an accidental kick to his stomach, he finally relents. You shake him off and get ready for the day, trying to not think about what transpired last night as you change and do your makeup. The mere thought of it is enough to make your face heat up several degrees…
When you’re finished, you peek into his room on the way to the main deck out of curiosity, only to see he’s still in the same spot you left him in. When he sees you glaring at him disapprovingly from the doorway, he perks up.
“Help me get ready?”
“Captain, you are a grown ass man.”
“Pretty please?”
He hurries to his feet and scurries over, before sinking to his knees and wrapping his arms around your waist. He fixates you with those big, watery dual-colored eyes and you just can’t bring yourself to say no even though you know he’s playing you like a fiddle
“... Fine. But just this once. And not a word to Ratio and Topaz, got it?”
“Understood, my dear nurse!”
You start by all but tossing his clothes toward him, then turning and facing the other way resolutely as he gets dressed.
“Won’t you help your poor captain out here?”
A loud “oof!” escapes him as you toss his long coat over your shoulder. The weight of it, gold embellishments and gems and all, knocks him flat on his back and onto his bed again. He takes his sweet time getting dressed after that, grumbling all the while until he’s done.
The wealth of accessories he wears are next. Aventurine slips on the pair of golden anchor earrings that are as heavy as one as you layer his necklaces the way he likes them. He preens like a bird under your attention and you have to fight back the comment likening him to a peacock that brews on the tip of your tongue.
You re-wrap the bandana around his head before placing his hat on slightly tilted- just the way he likes it. Almost done. Just one last touch before he’s ready. You pull out a tin of salve and dab it onto the scar over his eye. Aventurine scrunches his nose up in distaste at the strong herbal smell, but lets you do as you please. You pat it dry and secure his eyepatch, nodding in satisfaction at your handiwork.
“Perfect. There’s our captain, ready to command and conquer the seas.”
“I think you meant to say my captain, especially after last night. Weren’t you the one-”
You shut him up with a zealous kiss to the lips that has him sighing in bliss when you pull away, a dazed expression on his face and a pretty shade of pink on his lips that matches the one on yours.
For such an eccentric man, he sure can be predictable when you have him dancing in the palm of your hand.
The skies are cloudier and darker than you’d like them to be when you step out onto the deck. It’s also quite windy too. Veritas is lowering one of the sails while Topaz is on lookout duty. Upon seeing the two of you hand in hand, the former scoffs and rolls his eyes while the latter whistles obnoxiously.
“Good morning to you two lovebirds! I take it you had some fun last night?”
You chuck a pastry you had nabbed from the kitchen at Topaz to shut her up. She catches it deftly with one hand while Numby jumps up and down around her, pleading for a bite, but at least it worked. Meanwhile, Veritas is glaring at you with disgust in his eyes.
“What?” you ask innocently.
“I couldn’t sleep a wink last night.”
Oh. Oops.
“You’re just complaining because you’re jealous, doc,” interjects Aventurine with an arm thrown around your shoulder. The purple-haired man scowls angrily and turns on his heel, storming away angrily while grumbling something about the too-thin walls on the ship.
“And wipe that lipstick mark off your mouth,” he snaps at Aventurine. His face flushes guiltily while you snicker behind your hand.
Topaz lifts the spyglass away with a worried look on her face.
“Cap’n, there’s a storm brewing up ahead. A pretty intense one from the looks of it and because the winds are reaching us out here already.”
Normally, he’d laugh such concerns off and lazily give the order to circle around it. But this time, he wordlessly takes the spyglass from her and looks out toward the horizon where dark storm clouds are gathering and swirling.
“... Turn around.”
You think you’ve misheard him and so does everyone else.
“What?”
“Turn the ship around,” he quickly orders as he places the spyglass back into Topaz’s hands and hurries over to the helm. “If we go now at full sail, we should be able to outrun it until it dies out.”
Ratio and Topaz share confused looks but do as he says, obediently hoisting all the sails as Aventurine spins the wheel. The Lady Luck slowly turns around and soon she’s sailing ahead at full speed. Even so, the storm clouds aren’t getting any smaller.
There’s a level of urgency etched into Aventurine’s face that you haven’t seen before as he pushes the Lady Luck to her limits. His hands grip the wheel so tightly you think that any more and the wood would crack. It’s as if he’s trying to outrun something, especially with how often he looks back over his shoulder at the encroaching clouds blanketing the sky in pitch-black darkness.
Even sailing at near-top speeds, you still aren’t able to outrun the storm. Heavy clouds that bring with them an oppressive humidity and electrical charge to the air roll in rapidly, surrounding you on all four sides. There’s a strange buzz in the air and your hair begins to stand on end. There’s a small patch of clear sky in front of you that’s your only escape, and it’s rapidly shrinking.
Come on, just a little faster… just a little more…!
Her prow just barely breaks free of the storm when a sudden flash of lightning temporarily blinds you all. When you open your eyes again, it’s so dark you can only see a few paces in front of you. Not a single shred of light escapes the thick storm clouds rolling overhead that have finally completely moved in, and you realize the sky is tinged a sickly green when lightning flashes. The air is heavy and humid and mere seconds later, heavy, fat raindrops fall from the clouds, splattering angrily against the deck. The temperature plummets and the raindrops condense into giant hailstones, harshly stinging your skin as they pelt you and the deck with harsh cracks. The slippery surface of the deck and angry seas tossing the ship around as if she weighs nothing make it so that you’re constantly sliding into walls and hitting things.
You’re surrounded by the storm with no way out in sight.
Ratio lowers the sails as fast as he can and jumps down the second he’s done. Mere milliseconds later, the boom swings about violently toward the spot he was just at. A moment sooner and he would’ve surely died upon impact.
You regroup by Aventurine’s side, who’s staring at the churning waters with barely-concealed horror. Towering, white-capped waves crash mercilessly against her hull and spill onto the deck. The salty spray of the ocean shoots up as high as the masts and stings your eyes. The continuous gusts of winds threaten to rip the sails off the masts and howl against your ears. The Lady Luck rolls violently amidst the choppy waves and your stomach twists into knots at every drop. Poor Topaz is already throwing up over the side of the ship and Ratio is starting to look a little green.
“So this is it then,” he murmurs under his breath, so quietly you think only your ears heard it. Before you can respond, he gets ahold of himself and gives the order to tie down everything that isn’t secured and for all hands on deck. Veritas and Topaz stumble off first, making quick work of the ship, but you linger by his side a bit longer.
“This is no natural storm, is it?”
“... No,” he responds, his voice clipped as he fights to keep the Lady Luck buoyant. “It isn’t.”
You’re emerging from your quarters when you think you hear a melodic voice drifting over the choppy waves, singing an unknown yet enchanting tune. For all your time spent in taverns and performing in them, you’ve never heard anyone with a voice even close to the one you’re hearing right now. The voice is clear and high-pitched and whoever’s singing hits every note perfectly. You feel yourself go limp and you begin seeking out the voice, even getting up on shaky legs before Veritas yanks you back down. With the last of his strength, he shoves wax into your ears before he too falls victim to the song. Topaz, with her ears safely covered, takes the initiative and with your help, manages to subdue him enough for you to plug his ears. Not an easy task for a man of his size and build actively struggling against your hold.
You’re practically deaf now. All you can hear is the loudest of the waves crashing against the ship’s hull and the thunder booming directly overhead. Topaz roughly shakes you and you manage to make out what she’s saying even with the heavy rain obscuring your vision.
“What about our captain?!”
Ice courses through your veins. She’s right. You were so caught up in saving yourselves that you’ve left your captain completely defenseless. Oh no.
But when you look around, you see your captain still at the helm, seemingly immune to the siren’s song drifting through the air. He fights the ocean at every turn and spins the wheel to and fro as heavy waves tip her from side to side. He eventually manages to stabilize the ship for long enough to where you can get back up on your feet after being thrown around like a rag doll. Long enough for you to lock the rest of the ship up.
You cling to anything you can get your hands on as you slowly make your back to the deck, but it’s surprisingly difficult. Your whole body hurts from being thrown around, your arms are sore from holding onto anything for dear life, and your balance is off. Your feet keep slipping and sliding and when you make your way to the deck, you see why: the Lady Luck’s prow is pointed directly up and you already know what’s going to happen next.
“Hold fast!” shouts Aventurine. In the instant before the ice-cold waters sweep over you, Ratio grabs you and Topaz around the waist and hunkers down in the corner of the deck, gripping the railing with all his strength while you latch your arms around his waist. You manage to squeeze your eyes shut and inhale before the force of the rushing waters hits you. Even with your iron-clad grip around him, the bone-chilling cold temperature of the ocean plunges you head-first into shock and your grip loosens up ever so slightly- just enough for you to be swept away. Your limp body is harshly thrown against a corner- something cracks upon impact and needle-sharp pain shoots up your spine- before another wave lifts you up and over the railing, plunging you into the endless, swirling depths.
“Cap’n! (Name)’s gone overboard!”
The water sloshing around on the deck comes up to his knees now. Aventurine looks down at his legs, then toward the churning seas, then back at his legs. Without any hesitation, he tosses his coat aside and jumps overboard to the astonishment of Topaz and Ratio.
“Captain!”
“You damned gambler! Have you gone insane?!”
Everything sounds muffled and distant as you sink further down and down. Your lungs are burning and your vision is beginning to darken as you gaze up at the hull of the Lady Luck that’s growing smaller.
Is this… it? And just when I think I’ve finally found the life I’ve been searching for…
You think you see something dart by- a fish? No, it’s too big for one. The tail is a shiny lilac but the top half is that of a woman. Silvery hair flows out behind her as she stares at you curiously and you realize it’s a mermaid as she swims away. You gasp out of shock, only to regret it instantly when you begin gasping frantically for air after you accidentally inhale some water. You desperately claw and fight your way to the surface but it’s no use; your legs feel like lead and soon your arms follow.
Right as your consciousness fades and the world goes black, you see a familiar face swimming toward you. Blond hair, multicolored eyes…
Captain? What’re you doing here?
There’s an uncharacteristic regretful look on his face as he gets closer. He says something- you can’t hear it- before he pulls you in gently and kisses you so softly you barely feel the brush of his lips against yours.
A shimmering teal tail, the same kind as the mermaid you saw earlier, is the last thing you see.
You feel something warm and heavy nestled against your side. Two of them, actually.
It feels like you’ve been asleep for a very, very long time. It’s a struggle to open your eyes as if they’ve been sealed shut and your body feels stiff. It’s all too easy to fall back asleep, but…
Upon opening your eyes, you’re greeted with the sight of Numby and Doubloon curled up against you. The former squeals and the latter meows anxiously now that you’re awake. You gently pet their heads.
“... Good morning to you two as well.”
Your voice comes out so hoarse and scratchy you almost get secondhand embarrassment from hearing it. Upon closer examination, you realize you’re in Aventurine’s quarters but there’s no sight of him. You do, however, see Topaz passing by in the door left ajar. She gasps loudly at seeing you moving around and almost drops whatever she’s holding to rush inside.
“You’re awake! Good, we were all so worried, especially Aventurine.”
“Ugh… quiet down a bit please. How long was I out for?”
“Almost a day and a half.”
You slowly shift into an upright sitting position, wincing when you feel a sharp stabbing pain in your chest. Topaz is immediately at your side, helping you up and covering you with furs and blankets when your teeth start chattering uncontrollably. Looks like the chill of the waters penetrated deep into your bones.
“Easy now. You got some nasty injuries when you went overboard, such as a few fractured ribs. Ratio had to be the one to patch you up after Cap’n brought you aboard and-” her words are punctuated with a light-hearted chuckle “-I’ve never seen him so anxious for a person to wake up. Don’t tell him I said that though.”
She leaves and you lift up the handheld mirror on the nightstand, getting the first good look of yourself since almost drowning. You look relatively the same, save for the bruises all over your exposed skin and the sling your left arm is in.
“You’re very lucky that you only got off with some fractured ribs, a broken arm, and a bunch of bruises. You very well could’ve died out there,” says Topaz as she walks back into the room with a warm drink in hand. “Ratio’s words, not mine. Although, he’s right.”
You accept the drink and after realizing what it is, gulp it down eagerly. Hot rum with honey, lemon, and cinnamon. A favorite of yours and a classic remedy whenever someone on the ship falls ill. Topaz makes it the best though.
You stare down at the now-empty cup in your hands, its residual heat warming up your cold hands. It takes a while for your memory to be jogged, but you suddenly remember Aventurine going overboard too.
“Wait, Aventurine, where is-”
“In the bathroom waiting for you. He’s been quite moody ever since returning.”
You think back to when he saved you at death’s doorstep and you loudly gasp when you recall the last thing you saw. Your thoughts must’ve been written all over your face because Topaz merely sighs and takes the empty cup from your hands.
“... I’ll let him explain everything.”
She helps you to your feet and leaves you be. You hesitantly knock on the door and are instantaneously greeted with a “come in” from the other side.
You see why Aventurine has been confined to the bathroom. The first thing you see is a long teal-colored tail shimmering and swaying lazily side to side in the dim candlelight; far too big for the tiny confines of the bathtub your captain is currently soaking in. The fins are long and slightly translucent at the ends as they smack against the floor upon seeing you enter. You stay frozen in place, eyes trailing up from his fins toward his face. The scales that you swear you’d see peeking out underneath his collar sometimes are on full display now. Patches of them are littered across his chest, arms and face. His hands are webbed now and so are his ears tinged green at the tips and peeking out beneath the mess of blond hair. The sharp fins along his forearms slice cleanly through the water as he shifts around and the gills on his neck flare upon seeing you.
He stays frozen in place, watching. And waiting for your reaction. For what feels like eternity, none of you speak or even dare to breathe until you finally make the first move. You shakily laugh and exhale- he jolts at the sound- and you sink to your knees besides him, albeit with some difficulty. When you finally do speak, it’s with a gentle voice as you’re eyeing his tail resting in your lap.
“So that explains it all. And here I was wondering if I was hallucinating seeing you with scales.”
Aventurine lets out a laugh of sheer relief. His shoulders droop and he slouches against the edge of the bathtub, all tension seemingly dissipating from his body. He seems to take notice of your injuries after he’s relaxed. A webbed finger reaches out to lightly trace your arm in a sling and he frowns at the sight.
“... I’m sorry.”
You blink, astonished.
“What?”
“I’m sorry,” he repeats, and that’s all he has to say.
“It’s just some broken bones,” you lightly respond. “Inconvenient, sure, but nothing I can’t recover from. Besides, you saved me from certain death.”
“It’s not just about that. I narrowly avoided the nightmare I saw in my dreams, but at what cost?”
He goes quiet and refuses to elaborate. You decide it’s for the better to change the topic.
“So… care to tell me about your tail?”
Aventurine sighs. He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep this a secret from you forever, but he’s still a bit hesitant to tell you.
“Exposure to waist-deep water gives me legs and vice versa thanks to a deal I made with Jade a long time ago. In exchange for getting to experience life as a human, I would have to bring promising people to her door and continuously supply her with valuables.”
“Jade is a… sea witch?”
Aventurine snorts and scoffs.
“What, did she not seem enough of a conniving witch the first time you met her?”
“Fair enough,” you concede. “But what made you want to experience life on land?”
“It wasn’t a choice.”
“Oh.”
Your eyes land on the tattoo on the side of his neck that’s on full display now. You dare not say what it spells out loud. He scratches at the spot, conveniently covering it with his hand, and silence fills the space for a bit.
“What happened after the storm passed?”
You break the silence first. He seems relieved at the distraction and begins playing with the pearl bracelet fastened around your wrist.
“The storm passed almost as soon as I rescued you. I brought you back to the surface, where-”
“Wait, does that mean Veritas and Topaz know you’re-”
He sighs and nods. You falter a bit.
“... How did they react?”
Aventurine thinks back for a bit.
“I think they were just surprised. I don’t think they’ve fully processed it either.”
He laughs and shrugs.
“I can’t blame them. Their captain and a feared creature among sailors are one and the same.”
He sighs and looks at the closed bathroom door.
“They’ve been giving me a wide berth since then…”
“I’m sure they’ll come around. They just need some more time,” you reassure. “But what happened after that?” you ask, pressing for more information. His tail curls around your waist and swiftly pulls you closer to the bathtub- he’s surprisingly strong in this form, you quickly realize as you squirm around only for him to not budge one bit. You rest your tired head against your arms and gaze at him with half-lidded eyes that he meets unflinchingly with a gaze of his own and a lazy smile.
“Once you’re feeling better, go thank Ratio for his prompt medical care. As soon as I resurfaced, he practically yanked you out of my arms and started treating you. You inhaled quite a bit of water and Ratio had to get you to cough it all out. A bit gross, seeing it unfold in front of my eyes.”
“... You saw it all?” you ask, horrified and disgusted.
His lazy smile turns impish and he flicks some water toward you.
“Ah, you should’ve seen yourself,” he muses out loud. “Flopping around on the deck like a fish out of water and soaked to the point where you looked like Doubloon during bath time. It made for quite the sight- wait, don’t leave!”
He reaches out to you desperately and his tail tightens even more around your waist. You shoot him a withering glare before settling back down again.
“The storm calmed down soon after I saved you,” he continues. “The Lady Luck sustained some damage to the sails and she sprung a few leaks in the hull, but nothing that Ratio and Topaz weren’t able to repair. Later, you woke up and here we are.”
“Really? That’s it?”
“Really, that’s it,” he repeats.
“What a coincidence it stops after narrowly escaping death,” you grumble. He rolls his eyes.
“No kidding,” he scoffs.
Aventurine plucks a glimmering scale off and holds it out like a peace offering to you. It shifts between colors in the candlelight, going from pink to green to gold with a holographic sheen covering it. He notices the confused expression you wear and lightly laughs.
“What? Didn’t you know, mermaid scales are exceedingly valuable?”
You hold it closer, entranced by its dancing colors.
“I thought most of the ones on the market are frauds though?”
“That they are. But a real, genuine scale… those are only offered to the richest of the rich at a closed auction.”
“Yet here I am with one in my hand, free of charge.”
Aventurine laughs and plucks off another one for you. A look of hesitation crosses your face.
“... Doesn’t that hurt?”
“A little,” he admits. “But it’s nothing I can’t handle. Besides, they grow back.”
His words do nothing to budge the frown on your face and Aventurine makes a mental note to claim a scale fell off from natural causes the next time he gifts you one.
“How long do they take to grow back then?”
“... A long time,” he confesses after a beat of silence.
“... I see why they’re so expensive now.”
You glance down at the two shining scales in your palm. Perhaps you’ll make jewelry out of them- an earring to match with your captain doesn’t sound half-bad…
But your curiosity is piqued now. Mermaids are the stuff of legends and you have one sitting in front of you. A few questions couldn’t hurt, right?
“What else can you do?”
His tail flicks back and forth excitedly. Anything to impress you!
“We can cry pearls and other valuable jewels. Want to see?”
“Wait, don’t make yourself cry-”
Too late. Fat tears slide down his cheeks, condensing into something round and shiny before landing with a soft clink in his hands. Perfect pearls and tumbled sea glass pile up in his palms and you spot some shiny green stones- aventurine stones. He holds them out to you with an expectant look in his eyes. Your captain looks less of a fearsome mythical creature and more like an… eager puppy. You can’t possibly say no to such a face so with a resigned sigh, you accept his offering.
“... Thank you, but please don’t make this a common occurrence in the future. I don’t want to see you cry.”
He pouts, fins drooping. Boo. There goes a courting attempt out the window.
Like a puppy, you think as you watch him sulk in the bathtub. You poke at one of Ratio’s rubber ducks Aventurine had stolen from him bobbing along the water’s surface.
“You aren’t horrified?” he asks once he grows bored of staring at the duck.
“Why would I be?”
“Don’t give me that. You know exactly what I mean.”
His tail swishes side to side agitatedly and his ears simultaneously flatten against his head and fold downwards.
“Do you realize what I could do to you right now?” he asks in a low tone. “I could pull you under my song, strip you of your defenses, outwit you at every turn despite how clever you are…”
You’re leaning in unknowingly. A grin tugs at the corner of his mouth and he leans in closer, twirling a strand of your hair around a clawed finger.
“I’ll infiltrate your mind and charm you into doing things you’d never think of doing,” he continues, voice even lower and softer now. “I could tell you to walk the plank and you would do it, no questions asked. I could drag you beneath the depths with me and no one would even notice you’re gone. Ah, but you’re already under my spell, aren’t you?”
“... What?”
“Exactly. I could even do… this!”
With a sudden yank, he pulls you into the tub with him. Water splashes over the edge onto the floor and you scream. Even so, he holds tight and winds his tail tightly around you, nuzzling his cheek against yours and nipping your cheeks. They’re love bites more than anything else, but you shudder at the thought of how different the situation could be had he not been so head over heels for you.
You also shudder as the cold water soaks through your clothes and sends a chill up your spine.
“Let me go. The water’s cold.”
Aventurine merely holds onto you even tighter. Tucked into the crook of his neck like this, you can see his gills rapidly opening and closing out of contentment and the self-satisfied smile stretching wide across his face. He seems content to stay in this position for ages, leaning in to bury his nose into your hair and press kisses to your cheek repeatedly, but it’s only until you start shivering that he reluctantly lets go.
Before you step out the tub, he holds his left hand out. You hesitantly extend your right hand out until he gently bats it away and gestures for your left hand instead. It’s bundled in a sling but you manage to make it work somehow.
“There we go,” he says once your palm is pressed against his. “Now, close your eyes.”
You do as he says and thick, syrupy words flow like honey from his mouth. The words practically stick together as his voice rises and falls melodically in some unknown language. It sounds soothing, in the way a mother’s voice would lull a child to sleep.
“There,” he whispers after a peck to your forehead. “All done. You can open your eyes now.”
“What was that?”
“... A prayer,” he admits. “A prayer for your continued health and safety.”
There’s a funny feeling in your stomach and you fight back the stupid smile creeping onto your face.
“You shouldn’t have. But thank you.”
You curl your good arm around him and with a sharp heave, lift him up. His long tail snakes around your waist and you almost fall over from the weight.
“Stop that! You’re heavy!”
“How heartless of you.”
You dunk him back into the bathtub unceremoniously. His tail splits down the middle and scales begin falling off rapidly in patches. The fins shrivel and dissolve and pearly-smooth legs soon emerge. With a start, you try to look away but he merely scoffs and languidly stretches out in your arms.
“What? It’s nothing you haven’t already seen.”
Now fully dressed, Aventurine emerges onto the deck with you in hand. Topaz is playing fetch with Numby and Doubloon while Ratio is at the helm. The two pets, upon seeing you, dash over to you and run in circles around you with Numby oinking and Doubloon meowing excitedly. Topaz all but topples you over in an excited hug while your navigator scolds her, reminding the woman of your frail condition.
“How are you feeling?” asks Veritas as he comes to a stop before you. You hum and beam at him.
“Never felt better thanks to your immediate care.”
He brushes your compliments off with a scoff and a wave of his hand, all accompanied by his usual eye roll.
“Think nothing of it. It was merely my duty.”
Topaz leans against you from behind while Ratio coughs and steps back from you a bit. They eye your captain with the respect and admiration they always have, but now there’s a hint of skepticism underlying it all.
“Gambler, we deserve an explanation for what happened back there,” demands Veritas. Aventurine sighs and shakes his head.
“I know, but that’ll happen in due time. For now, let’s just… keep moving forward.”
He takes the helm. Ratio hoists the sails and Topaz climbs up to the crow’s nest to keep lookout. Things are never going to be quite the same as before now, but that’s alright in your eyes. Everyone boarded the Lady Luck for their own reasons and their captain secretly being a mermaid in disguise doesn’t change any of that. You boarded the ship to carve out a life for yourself you would’ve never had back on land. Ratio boarded to spread knowledge. Topaz boarded to bring change into the world. Your captain has already helped those dreams come true. Nothing the legends say will do anything to sway your opinion on him.
There will come a day when the Lady Luck will complete her last voyage, Aventurine will have to return to the seas, and the crew will be disbanded, but that day isn’t today. It won’t be when he comes clean to the crew either. Rather, it’ll be in the far future when no amount of repairs can keep the Lady Luck from falling apart and you’re no longer able to handle the challenges of life at sea. But you’ll cross that bridge when you get there.
The seas are calm. It’s clear out with a strong breeze that cools you off amidst the sun’s sweltering rays. Ratio is repairing a tear in one of the sails that escaped his earlier attention while Topaz hums a tune she picked up from you atop the crow’s nest, scouting the surrounding waters. You meet Aventurine’s gaze out the corner of your eye. Wordlessly, he pulls you into his side with one arm as you look out upon the ocean.
“Have you accomplished your goal of conquering the seven seas?” you tease. He scoffs and smirks.
“Oh, I did that a long time ago already. But there’s one last desire I have yet to fulfill.”
“And what might that be?”
He gazes down at you silently, yet the silence between you speaks volumes. A raised eyebrow and a head tilt. A cheeky wink and a kiss to your forehead. An exasperated sigh from your two crewmates as you pull away from returning the kiss.
There’s always one question you ask when heading to a new destination, and this time is no different. Gazing into his multicolored eye, you can’t imagine yourself anywhere else other than here, now and forever.
“So where to next, Captain?”
enjoyed my work? the taglist is open!
@ theother-victoria, do not copy, repost, modify, translate, or feed to ai
‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾ YOU HAVE RECEIVED A LETTER, LET’S SEE WHAT’S INSIDE! ☽༓・*˚⁺‧͙
salutations. remote working (requested by anon)
addressed. diluc, kaeya, tartaglia, zhongli, thoma, xiao, scaramouche, and arataki itto
content. mentions of covid-19, fluff/no-angst, mild swearing, wholesomeness, modern!au, yakuza!au, this fic is based on the way of the househusband
sypnosis. how househusbands are like with you remote working (work at home) during the pandemic.
penpals. @scaraslover @saving-for-xiao @dawgimsohot @kazu-topia @chiruru @aqualesha @renamichii
links. the way of the househusband au | teyvat's penpal service | requests info
post-script. shoutout to my bestie irl who helped me out with her big brain on xiao, kaeya, and scaramouche's parts <<3
DOESN’T GO TO YOUR OFFICE — diluc
when you first told DILUC that you'll start working at home from now on, he was relieved. ever since the announcement of a certain virus that's been infecting everyone like wildfire, the man could only worry about your safety – especially since your workplace has so much people – so now that you're officially working at home, he can now rest peacefully.
as someone who respects privacy and silence, diluc makes sure to not be noisy outside, including not vacuuming in front of your office and wouldn't put the volume on the tv to the max (im sorry but hes honestly the type to make his tv loud just to have a bg noise), which you appreciate a lot. though you wonder if he forgot the fact that your office is sound-proof.
he also doesn't want to go to your office, mainly because he doesn't want to be seen by your nosy colleagues and because he simply doesn't want to disturb your meetings with his presence. it's like the tables have been turned around the both of you since back then, you're the one who didn't want to interrupt with his work.
sometimes when he feels like it, diluc would send you a text message and ask if you'd like him to bring a drink or snack to your office. if you said yes, expect yourself to hear a few knocks one second after you sent your message. turns out, he was actually supposed to come in to your office unannounced with your drink and snacks but decided to text you first because of his conscience bothering him. it'll take months before he'll actually start visiting your office without having to text you that's a lie, he'll never do it.
LOVES YOUR BOSS MOMENTS — childe, kaeya
the moment you informed CHILDE that you’ll be working at home, he was honestly curious to see how you work. are you the type to scold many of your coworkers in a scary manner? are you the fun and chill type that made your coworkers love you? ah, so many questions !!
eventually his curiosity was lifted when he overheard you while he was cleaning outside your office, causing him to stop cleaning for a moment to hear what you're saying to your colleagues, listening to you destroying your coworker for something they’re trying to bring you down from.
it only increased his love for you because wow, who knew you would be such a boss at your job? don’t get him wrong, he very much knows how great you are — it just astounds him since you’re so closed off about your work ! childe could only smile from just imagining how scared his old subordinates would be if you were a part of his organization.
expect him to try and convince you to start telling many of your work stories — doesn’t matter if they’re all embarrassing in your eyes — as long as you tell him the ones where you prove yourself that you’re a boss (as you should !!)
KAEYA would be happy that you no longer have to go out to your crowded workplace and risk your health anymore when you told him. he feels even more unease when it comes to your safety since there’s been a virus that’s been causing so much trouble for everyone, so now that you’ll stay home until it’s considered safe to go out, kaeya can live happily.
unlike childe, kaeya only gets to see your angry side when your coworkers didn’t do their job and would think wow, you're so cute when you're angry as if he hasn't seen you being mad at him at all. he doesn’t even have to go near your office to hear your angry voice because he can simply hear it from where he is (given that unlike diluc’s, your office isn't sound-proof).
during those times when you're mad, kaeya will make sure to help you calm down after the meeting. he'll either stop by your office to give you a snack and drink or cuddle with you until your next meeting starts. if you're into sweet-talk, then kaeya's the right person for you, expect him to start telling you sweet-nothings in your ear and do everything he can to make you smile or make your cheeks feel warmer than a stove.
as much as kaeya adores your boss moments, he doesn't like how you're too busy with your work because of your piled up works to do. whenever you sometimes overwork yourself from the amount of work you've been given, your lover will make sure to make you take breaks every now and then by dragging you out from your office and spend time with him even if it takes a few minutes. you may be cute but not when you're stressed and overworked >:00 !!
VISITS YOUR OFFICE TO GIVE YOU FOOD — thoma, zhongli
when THOMA finds out that you'll start doing your work at home, he beams. mainly because you don't have to get out from your home and risk your health and definitely not because he misses you a lot.
he would often find himself at the kitchen daily even more than before, trying out snack recipes that he thinks you’d like as taroumaru watches from afar, eating his dog treat happily as always. if he deems the said snack worthy, then thoma will immediately take it away to your office and give it to you with taroumaru following.
however, unlike the rest of the househusbands besides diluc and scaramouche, thoma wouldn't be seen by your colleagues since he makes sure that he's not seen in your screen – whether it'd be going behind your laptop and place the food beside your things, or stay a few steps away from you and just give you a thumbs up before rushing off outside to not disturb you anymore.
whenever you're done with your meetings, you always have your favorite choice of drink waiting outside with your lover and dog watching a movie or resting while waiting for you to finish. expect him to try and help you clean up your desk so that you can have a tidy spot for once.
sweet-sweet ZHONGLI, who smiles so wide when he realizes that he won’t have to feel lonely anymore because of the fact that you’ll be staying home without going out to work. expect him to take you to your workplace to get your things and will help you start rearranging your office to make it more comfortable and suitable for your online meetings.
sweet-sweet zhongli, who makes sure to be quiet whenever he’s outside of your office and always prepares snacks for you. it’s scary how he always knows when you’re craving for something to eat, something that he excuse it as a coincidence and chuckles about it. he likes to think that it’s an instinct of his to know when you’re starving and/or know what you want.
sweet-sweet zhongli, who always makes sure to knock on your door before entering with foods that’ll surely make your mouth water at the aroma alone. at this point, it’s normal for your colleagues to see his lower body coming to view in your screen and putting down the tray that has your meal. they actually find it endearing and a bit jealous.
sweet zhongli, who listens to what you did for work as he massages your shoulders happily after your tiring meetings, adding a few comments here and there so that you’ll know that he’s listening to your rants. he's that good of a househusband <<3
SOMETIMES IN THE BACKGROUND — itto, xiao
ITTO felt excited when you said you'll start working at home, thinking that you meant that you’re willing to help him with the farm – only to find out that you meant you're actually still working in your career but at home, much to his sadness. nevertheless though, he was still happy because hey, at least you're now staying with him 24/7 :DD !!
like diluc, itto wouldn't dare to enter your office during your meetings in fear of disturbing you as well. despite that though, your colleagues know him already because of your choice of.. background.
you see, your office has a window that shows the beautiful view of the farm and field, something that you thought would look great as your background since the window is behind you and is visibly seen to your colleagues. what you don't think about is the fact that your husband could be seen by your many colleagues – leading many occasions where they can see itto talking with his farm- animals and/or getting chased by chickens and hens.
it only took you a long time before you realized that itto can be seen thanks to one of your friends who pointed it out, causing you to feel your cheeks warming when you realized your mistake. how could you face your lover knowing that almost all of your colleagues have seen the things he did outside?!
XIAO felt like the gods have smiled upon him when he found out about the new changes in your work. he’s been anxiously waiting for the announcement of what will happen to your and your company, so now that it's official that you'll be staying at home, he won't have to worry about anything regarding you catching the virus.
now, unlike most househusbands, your office is an open-door room that leads to the kitchen and dining area, causing xiao to be often seen by your colleagues doing random things. whether it'd be cleaning up some items in the background, walking by but accidentally tripped, cooking a meal, or even eat almond tofu nearby, not knowing that he can be seen. you didn't bother telling him since you assumed he knew.
sometimes, you'd feel like a boomer. especially during the first month of remote working since you had never used zoom or any online meeting apps, so you often come up to xiao when it comes to encountering technical difficulties. thankfully, xiao's been with zhongli for a long time to know how to fix your problems and/or answer your questions. he's basically a technician to you now.
NOISY AS FU— — scaramouche
“so? i’m still your alarm either way.” is SCARAMOUCHE’s response when you first told him that you’ll start working at home. in reality, he was lowkey relieved since he didn't want you to risk yourself to go to work.
just like diluc, scaramouche respects boundaries and silence, so he makes sure to not interrupt any of your meetings. he'll only enter if he wants to let you know that he'll be going out to buy some groceries or if he brings you a drink after you texted him.
now, despite not being able to enter your office, he's often... loud outside without realizing it.
it's not that he's intentionally loud to disturb you – no, no – he just gets a bit clumsy whenever he cleans. whenever scaramouche cleans, he sometimes gets too deep in his thoughts that he doesn't pay attention to his surroundings besides the one he's cleaning in, leaving him accidentally stumping his toe on one of the table legs and speak in colorful language, much to your embarrassment and shock when you’re in your office hearing it. thankfully it only happens when you're not talking (so far, at least).
besides that, on occasions when you're taking a "short" break while waiting for your next meeting, scaramouche will make sure to keep an eye on the time to let you know when you need to go back in case you ended up procrastinating. if you ever say “just a few minutes”, you can say goodbye to your sweet bed because your husband will literally drag you away towards your office. it's honestly scary how strong he is 🧍♀️🧍♀️
miya atsumu x reader, 2k
SUMMARY: osamu asks if you ever get jealous when people flirt with atsumu.
A/N: holding my hands up to say that yes i love osamu more. i DO. but atsumu has been wreaking havoc in my mind lately…… so. here we are. this is very sappy if i’m being Real with you. also sel this is for u and the unfortunate realisations we have both come to — godbless.
The street lights outside blink an ugly shade of yellow as the sun finally makes way for the moon.
Osamu flips the sign on the front door to closed before taking a seat in front of you.
If your schedule hadn’t been so hectic this week, you’d be at the stadium watching the Black Jackals match in real time and celebrating their win.
Knowing Atsumu, you would most definitely be donning his jersey in the crowd as you cheered. He gets pouty if you don’t, and you’ve learned to pick your battles over the years.
Instead, it’s 8pm and you’ve made yourself comfortable in an empty booth at Onigiri Miya, eyes focused on the screen where it hangs on the wall.
“It’s miraculous you aren’t worried, honestly,” Osamu said, the words slurred through his full mouth. You hum absentmindedly, eyes never leaving the tv screen.
He only gestured at the television, where Atsumu was doing an interview post match and looking particularly handsome despite the sweat dripping down his face. He was nodding, smiling, speaking. The usual motions. There was a woman next to him. You weren’t really looking at her. Atsumu laughed, tipping his head back and exposing the long line of his neck, and you found that infinitely more interesting.
“Worried about all that,” Osamu said. His arm was still aloft, making a motion at the woman interviewing his twin, and when you humoured him to take a look, you found said woman already looking at Atsumu.
“She’s looking at him because he’s speaking,” you pointed out.
Osamu made a face. “Yeah, duh, I know, but like. You know what I mean.” he took a sip of his drink, offering it to you. You took it. “Tsumu getting flirted with at work.”
“Ah,” you said.
He had gotten lemonade, which was sweet of him. You liked lemonade a lot more than he did. "It's been happening since high school. I'm kind of used to it by now."
There was something skeptical in the slant of Osamu’s brow. "He's getting hit on a lot more now though."
You hummed again. You knew that, too. Atsumu had complained about it more than once.
But you reckoned that it was just the natural progression of things. Atsumu had always been attractive, had always been the kind of good-looking that made you question whether your eyes were working correctly, but then he got older.
Broader. More muscular. More confident.
You were willing to bet that it was the confidence that did it more than anything.
Once, when they were all drunk out of their minds, Suna had remarked that Atsumu walked like he "owned fifteen different properties both in Japan and overseas", and you had nearly peed yourself laughing at how ridiculously spot-on it was.
"It doesn't bother me," you said, laughing a little when Osamu's face went from lightly skeptical to completely unconvinced. "Honestly! It really doesn't!"
"Not that I'm saying you have reason to be worried," Osamu began, "but I will never let you forget how fucking sulky you got back then, especially because I was the sorry ass in charge of making sure you cheered up."
You couldn't even defend yourself, but you were going to try to anyway. "I wasn't that bad."
Osamu looked at you with a flat expression. "You at some point said, and I quote, ‘Samu, I am never going to find love ever again,' after a reporter asked for his number."
You screeched, hitting his shoulder and whining when he dodged easily. "Why do you even remember that? Fucking weirdo."
"How else am I gonna keep you under control if not through blackmail?" Osamu said, dodging again when you tried for another hit. "It's your own goddamn fault that you keep giving me ammunition."
"Fuck off, it was different back then. I was in denial and pining over my stupid crush," you sniffed, settling more into the seat and stealing the last of the lemonade in indignation.
"You're still very much in denial and pining," Osamu pointed out. "I don't even fucking know how and why you're still pining because you're actually dating him now."
"Rich coming from you. How long did it take you to ask your girlfriend out again? Pot and kettle or however the saying goes."
Osamu scowled, "I am nowhere near as bad as you.”
"You Libra placements and your denial..."
"Letting you get into astrology is a mistake I will never recover from."
"Please, and when you want me to look at your compatibility chart again-"
Osamu clamped a hand over your mouth, shushing you desperately. "What the fuck."
"The blackmailing is mutual," you said, shoving him off of you. "Equal exchange, I give half of my humiliation to you, you give half of yours to me."
"This isn't equivalent, you gave me all of your embarrassment and I've barely done anything— don't look at me like that."
You only raised an eyebrow further.
"Shut the fuck up."
"I'm not saying anything?"
"You're loud even when you're quiet."
You both give it a break for a while, going back to eating and watching. There was a different player on screen now, one that you’re pretty sure you’ve met before but can’t place the name. Osamu seems to know since he’s listening intently.
Sakusa shows up next, followed by Hinata and Bokuto before it pans back to the whole team and you catch sight of Atsumu again, this time with another interviewer who was standing too close for comfort. At the sight of this exchange, Osamu turns to you again.
"You're really not worried? Like, seriously?" he asked, quieter this time, not a single trace of teasing in his voice.
You were touched with how concerned he was. For all of his complaining, he was invested in your happiness, seemingly more so than his own actual brother.
"Seriously," you repeated. "I'm not worried. Genuinely.”
.
.
.
You were already in bed when Atsumu trudged through the door. Your boyfriend had stopped in place as he found you, and it made you smile, a little helpless, and extend a hand.
"Hi," you said. He didn't move. "You okay?"
"Sorry," he said, rubbing at his eyes and shrugging off his bag. "I just have to make sure I'm not dreaming and that there really is the most gorgeous person on earth in my bed right now."
"Oh fuck off," you said, voice choked and close to a wail. Atsumu only grinned, laughing when you covered your face with your arms.
"Babeee," he whined, ambling over to the bed to plop himself on top of you. "Hey, come on." He reached up to peel your arms away, and the look on his face was something between complete rapture and excitement. He looked at you like that a lot.
"Hi there," Atsumu said, smile wide enough to break his face, and you could never in your life resist it.
"Hi there," you repeated. Your hands went to the back of his neck to tug him down, and he was more than happy to come closer. You hadn't kissed since this morning, and it was almost midnight now. You had to make up for lost time.
"You okay?" you asked again when you came up for air eventually. Atsumu's face was in your neck, his mouth open and sweet against your skin, tongue and teeth and lips laving over the spot where your pulse roared. You kept shivering at each little nip and suck. You could feel Atsumu smiling. You didn't know whether to kiss him again or hit him.
"I'm fine," he mumbled. He pressed another kiss near your collarbone. "Have you now. I'm all good."
You huffed a little laugh through your nose. "My baby’s exhausted?"
You felt more then saw the small shudder that went through his body and hid your smile by putting your face in his hair. He smelled like lavender— the new cologne you had bought him a few weeks ago.
"Yeah," Atsumu said, the words all breathy and sighed-through and it made another shiver hiss through you, fluttery and warm and all-consuming. "Your baby’s exhausted."
"You showered before you got home?" you asked. Atsumu's skin felt clean under your fingers, none of the tackiness of sweat from playing a game left behind.
He made a small noise, petulant, but relented when you wouldn't stop pinching his cheeks.
"Come up, big baby, I just wanna see you— there you are." you smiled, watched as he mirrored it. You ran your thumbs over the highs of Atsumu's cheekbones, over his eyebrows. He closed his eyes, humming as you tipped his face this way and that. His ears were red under all of your careful attention. His ears always did that. You’ve been dating for almost two years.
You were kind of thrilled.
"Look at you," you said, low and hushed and unabashedly awed.
There was a slice of moonlight that had slipped through the curtains, and it caught the side of Atsumu's face— you had spent a lot of time looking at him. Through the years spent as a young girl with a crush so huge it felt world-ending, through the time spent before you got together, carrying feelings under your tongue and biting down in the hopes it wouldn't bleed through your words.
Until now— still as lovestruck as the day you met him but more settled now, more complete, because to love someone as they are and not as they show you is to love them whole— you looked at Atsumu. Sometimes you were sure that you knew Atsumu's face better than your own.
Even back then, when you were just the nebulous idea of friends, studying Atsumu never felt like you were studying a stranger.
You had spent a lot of time looking at him, but even still there were moments where he would turn, or his profile would catch the light differently, or he'd look at you the way he did now, and you’d be overwhelmed all over again.”
"You're so pretty," you said, smiling as red bloomed, ruddy and bright, across the planes of Atsumu's face.
"Baby’s so pretty. Stunning."
"Stop," he whined, trying to get out of your grip, but you knew that whenever your boyfriend said 'stop' he really meant 'keep going'.
"Prettiest boy in the world," you breathed, giggling when Atsumu could only whine again, his face crumpling in embarrassment. "Pretty pretty pretty.”
"That's you," Atsumu said, leaning up a little to press a kiss to your forehead. "The prettiest person in the world is you."
"Hmm, still think it's you," you said, and watched as the flush spread to his neck, over his shoulders, peaches over cream.
It still shocked you sometimes, how well you can read each tick and shift in his expression. How the little twitch to his upper lip meant that he wanted to kiss you, how his eyes would go dark whenever you called him beautiful.
How there was a certain smile that he seemed to save for no one else but you. It sat slightly goofy on his face, crooked and dimpled, a tad bit too human to be shown in front of cameras. You hoarded all of those smiles. Atsumu only ever smiled like that when he was too happy to care about how he looked, too caught up in the bubble you created for yourselves to let any passing thought intrude.
He was smiling like that now.
"Missed you too," you murmured against his mouth, the words a kiss of their own. You cupped his cheeks. "Missed my boyfriend very much."
You watched him as he unfurled, closing his eyes, that smile at full-force. A moonflower in bloom. It scared you sometimes, how much power you had over him. Everyday you woke up and hoped you deserved it.
Atsumu leaned in again, kissed you again, and you were distantly brought back to your conversation with Osamu, to the concern and curiosity in his eyes.
"You're really not worried? Seriously?"
Atsumu's tongue slipped into your mouth, and any last bit of thought was wiped clean.
You weren’t worried. You really, really weren’t.
synopsis: Your husband absolutely adores his little niece and it gives you hope he is willing to start a family as well. However the lack of communication on the matter is pretty apparent.
IMPORTANT author’s note: this can be read as its own work but actually it is written as a ‘continuation’ to @lunargrapejuice ‘s work An unexpected surprise and I highly recommend to go and read it first to have an understaning of some things happening in my fic.
pairing: Diluc x fem!reader (with Kaeya and his wife in the background)
tw: established relationship, fluff, hurt/comfort, topic of pregnancy and children, wholesome brotherly bond between Diluc and Kaeya
word count: 6.2k words
Family AU masterlist
Becoming Diluc Ragnvindr’s wife meant you not only married one of the most amazing men in Mondstadt, if not all Teyvat, but also added his brother’s family to your own.
It was never an issue though. Bonding with Mrs Alberich was extremely easy and quick, so now you have a brilliant friend, who is always ready to have your back and team up with you against your husbands should the necessity occur. Kaeya, your husband’s brother, welcomed you warmly too, quickly labeling you as his favorite sister-in-law (doesn’t matter you are the only one) and jokingly expressing his gratitude for agreeing to bear with the epitome of grumpiness the redhead is (and getting a glare from the redhead in question).
However the most precious member of the family you are always delighted to see is their now five-year old daughter, Callie. The girl with tan skin and silky blue jay hair looks at the world through the eyes resembling her mother’s with a smile inherited from her as well.
She is such a sweet dear with a heart bigger than her little body. How else would she be capable of loving her dad, her mom, her favorite toys and that horse Kaeya takes her on rides with, and then come to your residence and happily throw her arms wide to hug Diluc and you, giving you kisses and trying to tell everything you could’ve missed. Barbatos, she is even incredibly kind to your staff, Adelinde easily becoming her favorite person with her tea party organizing skills.
You are glad you stepped into the family not so long after this girl was born. You’ve been there to witness Callie doing her first efforts in repeating words. You’ve been there to hear how Diluc Ragnvindr, the wine tycoon and most respected person in Mondstadt, turned into Wuc-Wuc due to the toddler’s inability to pronounce some letters. You’ve also been there almost every single time your husband shared a smile with her, brought her a gift, carried her around and just was a good uncle to her.
There is only one thing that worries you - Diluc’s lack of communication on the topic of starting a family of your own.
Keep reading
cw. gn!reader, flighty!reader, reader works in forensics, prohero!katsuki, aged up (around mid 20s)
a/n. this was fun to write lmao. this is definitely not self-indulgent :0 again, would surely appreciate reblogs and comments <3
You’re a runner.
And no, not in the dystopian, getting-out-of-a-manmade-maze sense.
You run from feelings.
And that happens to include the kind when someone gets a little bit too close for comfort.
But you also do run in the literal sense.
In fact, you just did.
Panting, you round the next corner of your office building’s hallway, what was once a sprint (at least, the type that was possible in a crowded skyscraper in Tokyō) now faltering into a light jog.
Huffing, you chance a peek behind your shoulder, a sigh wracking your body when you conclude that the man of the hour is finally out of sight.
“What’s up with you?”
The man’s red-headed best friend quirks an amused eyebrow at you when you halt at the sound, startled.
He slows down in his steps as he appraises the mess that you currently are; from the looks of it, he’s heading in the direction you’re desperately trying to run away from, and for a split second, you’re half your mind to drag him with you to the elevator and vanish before the man could spot the both of you.
Why the fuck are you acting like this?
“I—Was just wanting to—” At this point, you’re severely out of breath. And you’d chalk it up to the physical exertion you definitely aren’t used to, but you know it’s more than that.
The warmth of your cheeks seems to suggest that, too.
“Hold up.”
You look up at Kirishima, one hand still on your hip to help keep you upright despite the exhaustion.
He tilts his head. “Aren’t you supposed to be in a meeting with Bakubro?”
Even just the mention of his name triggers your fight-or-flight response.
It also happens to send a flood of longing right through you.
“Yeah,” you rasp, before checking over your shoulder again. Coast: still clear.
“What are you—” Kirishima starts, eyebrows pinched in confusion, before what looks like realization and amusement flash across his features.
“Did he—”
“Yeah,” you cut him off before he could say it.
Apparently, being confessed to out of the blue by the man you’ve been in love with for a year cuts your sentence-formation capabilities to not more than one worded ones at a time.
Just as you expected, worry dances its way across Kirishima’s face.
“Are you running away from him?”
You choke on your spit.
“Hey, easy, Y/N,” Kirishima says while awkwardly rubbing your back as you cough your lungs out.
You stand upright when you finally gather your bearings, ready to explain, or attempt to explain to Kirishima (but more to yourself) why you just fled the meeting room where you and Bakugou were discussing the forensics of his new case.
It’s not like you didn’t see it coming.
The feelings, not the outright confession.
Midoriya, Kirishima, and his other friends have made it pretty obvious with their background teasing that the emotionally constipated blonde has taken a particular interest in you.
(Background because the aforementioned blonde would indubitably kill them if he found out they were teasing you, let alone about him.)
You just couldn’t bring yourself to believe it and hell—start to hope—until a while ago, when the Bakugou Katsuki himself slammed his fist on the table, spitting out the three words you’ve been dreaming to hear from him since you first worked on that gory ass mission together.
Well, four. If you count the curse slotted among the ‘I like you’.
But as it turns out, the reality of it all—Bakugou’s vulnerability, mutual feelings, and possibly dating a Pro Hero—scared you.
And so you ran.
And you were about to confess all this to poor Kirishima when a booming voice echoes through the hallway, effectively triggering your (definitely) flight response once more.
At that, you bolt to the elevators, leaving behind a speechless Kirishima.
Luckily for you, Bakugou has always been good at chasing what he wants.
"look how beautifully the stars sing for you and i" 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝⭒˚。⋆
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