#fic: where the sun sails and the moon walks
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where the sun sails and the moon walks
Luke presses his advantage and takes another step. This time, the Apprentice maintains his ground. “I wasn’t the only one who lost someone, but I’m not selfish enough to think that the only loyalty I owe is to the dead. Leia lost her master as well. My mother lost one of her closest friends. I have to check on them.” The Apprentice’s face is just as stony as his mask, but Luke knows what he’s feeling without having to see the emotions across his face. This close, it continues to pass between them. “And to me?” the Apprentice asks, his voice dangerously vulnerable. “What do you think you owe me? When you came here to appease your Master—” “I didn’t—” “—your own so-called selfless Jedi Knight mindset!” The Apprentice shoves Luke away and the connection between them pulls taut but doesn’t snap. “Your obligation to me is over.” (In which a Jedi has to travel to where the sun sails and the moon walks to save a boy he barely knows from the clutches of the dark side)
written for the 2023 @swbigbang
Characters: Luke Skywalker, Ezra Bridger, Leia Organa, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Darth Maul, Padmé Amidala, Hondo Ohnaka, Darth Vader, Emperor Palpatine
Ships: Luke Skywalker/Ezra Bridger
Tags: fairytale retelling, POV Luke Skywalker, Dark Ezra Bridger/Ezra as Maul's Apprentice
Chapters: 15/15
Art by: @qt-kt
It’s almost dinner when a knock sounds at the door.
Luke and Leia look up at the same time, glancing from the door to each other in confusion. “It’s not Uncle Bail or Aunt Breha,” Leia confirms as the knock comes again — louder this time, more insistent.
“I’ll get it,” Luke offers, rising to his feet as the pounding continues. He’s halfway to the door when Obi-Wan’s hand lands on his shoulder in a vise-like grip.
The old man’s face is pinched with worry, the line of his mouth in sharp contrast to the usual smile he sports. “Go back with Leia.” His warning is low and urgent. “I’ll handle this.”
“Why?” Luke asks, though he doesn’t budge. “Uncle Ben, who is it?”
He doesn’t answer, already turning towards the foyer.
Padmé’s hands replace Obi-Wan’s, soft on Luke’s forearm as she guides him back into the sitting room.
By now, the knock has been replaced by a frustrated slap. “Kenobi!” an unfamiliar voice growls. Luke shivers at the sound of it, but Padmé tenses and sucks in a sharp breath. “Open this door!”
Obi-Wan moves to the entryway, and Luke notices that his hand rests on the hilt of his lightsaber. When the door opens, there’s a moment when he’s framed by the setting Alderaanian sun and he looks like he stands taller and straighter than he has in years.
But then the glare fades and Luke can see clearly again, and the vision returns to his quiet-mannered Uncle Ben speaking in low tones to whoever is on the other side.
[[read on AO3]]
#star wars#rebels#star wars rebels#star wars original trilogy#luke skywalker#ezra bridger#swbigbang#star wars fic#a lil miss fic#lil miss writings#fic: where the sun sails and the moon walks#skybridger
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Everyone say "thank you, kaite" for indulging in my one specific request to be illustrated despite the realization of "oh no this is actually a hard pose" 🥰🥰🥰 omnomnom i feast it turned out so good
Another piece for @littleladymab's fic Where the Sun Sails and the Moon Walks. I had so much fun with this one I'm so incredibly soft for these two 💖
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Siren Song 🧜🏽♀️🧜🏾♀️🧜🏿♀️ (Zoro x Sanji x Black!Mermaid!Reader 18+ One Shot)
🌊 🐚🌊 🐚🌊 🐚🌊 🐚🌊 🐚🌊 🐚🌊
Pairing: Zoro Roronoa x Sanji Vinsmoke x Black!Fem!Reader (Strangers to Lovers)
Synopsis: In which the siren song that you sing in hopes of finding someone to free you from your curse attracts more than one mate when two of the most notorious and wanted pirates come to search your cave after a shipwreck.
Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Post Time Skip; Strangers to Lovers; Mermaid!Reader; Black-coded!Reader; Interspecies Sex (kinda); Hypnotism; Seduction/Coercion; Dubcon (but enthusiastic consent is later given); Dom!Zoro & Sanji; sub!Reader; Threesome; Mutual Oral (Giving & Receiving; Sloppy Cunnilingus + Analingus; Anal Play/Fingering; Double Deepthroat; Facefucking; Cock Drunk; Reader Cums 2x; Unprotected Vaginal & Anal Sex; Double Penetration; Creampie; Analpie; Happy Ending
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic (except for Snowbeard). However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!
Writer’s Note: I had meant to post this in October for spooky season, but that month just wasn’t making time for me lmaoo. Work has been whooping my whole ass. So I decided to post it now for MerMay! I hope y’all like it! -Jazz
*Note: "Ma chéri" means "my darling" in French!
🌊 🐚🌊 🐚🌊 🐚🌊 🐚🌊 🐚🌊 🐚🌊
Another lonesome night among the ocean waves. ‘What a fucking curse indeed,’ you think to yourself, solemnly sighing.
You sit on a flat-surfaced rock, perfect for perching, connected to a series of rocks that lead up to a jagged, rocky mountainside where your cave lies. The soft waves, darkened by night and crystalized by the full, bright moon suspended in the sky, crash against the sandy shore leading into the deep, dark, cavernous cave you call your home.
What you wouldn’t give to have a real house with a real, fluffy bed and kitchen. For the past year, you’ve been eating nothing but fish, seaweed, and crabs, which are all good when cooked over a fire, but damn, you wouldn’t mind a bowl of steaming ramen or sashimi. Not to mention a hot shower.
All of which are not available when you’re a mermaid.
Or a mer-person. Whatever you’d like to call it. Either way, you have a fin instead of legs. It’s a quite beautiful fin–a gorgeous shade of turquoise with shimmering scales that look like diamonds in the sun and moonlight. You also have gills on the side of your ribcage, scales that run up and down your arms, and a seashell bra that you made yourself to hold your breasts up.
Otherwise, you’d just be topless. It has been your only attire for a year now.
You don’t even know what your legs look like anymore. Are they the same as they were a year ago? Could you even walk anymore? You’ve been swimming for so long that you’re not sure you’ll even know how to move your legs once this curse breaks…if it ever breaks.
You’ve been trying for so, so long. The only way to do so is to attract a mate from among the sea with your siren song and lure them to you where you’d proceed to persuade them to give you ultimate pleasure.
Or, bluntly speaking, in order to break the curse, you have to sing a song to attract a man and have him fuck you until you cum.
Then, and only then, will the curse be broken and you’d have your legs back. At least that was what the creepy sea witch told you when you went rummaging around in her shit. God, you wish you could turn back time and redo that entire night. That was the night your entire life changed for the worse.
A year ago, you weren’t a half-human half-fish. A year ago, you were a beautiful, strong, curious human woman who sailed across the Grand Blue in search of adventure. You had no family or friends, so why not just explore the world?
You had been sailing for only a couple months when you stumbled across a strange seaside cave. You had parked your boat near the mountainside before grabbing your sword and exploring the many trinkets and curious creatures of the deep inside the cave.
When you first stumbled across the treasure chest sitting on a lone rock there, you knew you shouldn’t have touched it. But temptation and curiosity got the best of you. So you took your sword and cracked it open by wiggling the blade’s tip around in the padlock.
The chest cracked open instantly, revealing various, glittering stones that could have definitely bought you a bigger boat and a sack of food. You snatched it up and prepared to leave with it…only for your legs to give out on you completely.
With a squeak, you tripped and fell onto the sandy ground, the chest falling with you and spilling all of its goodies. “Da fuck?” you whispered, confused. You looked back at your legs and feet, wondering what’s gotten into them, only to find that they have been replaced with a slippery, flopping tail fin. You screamed, your horror echoing throughout the cave.
“Be quiet, bitch!” a raspy voice ordered. Immediately, your lips stuck together like they were made of glue and no matter how hard you tried to move them apart, nothing worked. You still screamed but your voice was muffled. Quickly, you grabbed your sword from the sand and turned to look behind you at the owner of the disembodied voice.
A woman stood there, dressed in black rags that hung down to her cracked feet and blackened toenails. Her fingers were boney, long, and ringed, her skin an ashen gray color. Hair like seaweed hung in her face where you caught the glitter of many piercings and two coal-black eyes that pierced down at you from where you helplessly lay on the sand.
“Stupid girl,” she snarled, walking right by you with her skirts in her hands. “You should’ve known better than to have come here snooping about. Don’t you know that this is the sea witch’s turf?”
She kneeled down before you, stinking of dead fish and something rotten. You covered your nose at the stench, making her cackle. “Not impressed by me?” she asked, grinning at you with blackened teeth. “Well, I’m not impressed by you either. You’re just another stupid human coming to steal my shit.”
She began to pick up each of her stones, muttering to herself about how dumb mortals are and how they’re only driven by greed. You began to wiggle around, trying to make it to the cave’s exit, but your tail only provided you some movement. Other than that, you were completely stagnant.
Once the witch got her treasure chest together, she stared down at you as if she just realized you were there and were nothing more than a pestering fly. “Ah,” she cackled. “You’re probably wondering about the tail, hm?”
‘You think, bitch?’ you wanted to scream at her. Instead, you just glared daggers up at her and pointed your sword at her. She barely flinched.
“Oh, please,” she scoffed. “You can’t do anything to me, little girl. I could make that sword a snake or a fucking balloon animal if I wanted to.” She smirked down at you deviously. “But I think turning your legs into a useless tail suffices. That’s what you get for entering my domain.”
You began to scream at her through your closed lips, trying to talk. She rolled her black eyes at you and sighed, snapping her fingers. Your lips loosened and you could finally speak: “What the fuck did you do?!” you angrily hollered. “Give me back my legs now! How am I supposed to move around with this?” You pointed at the tail.
“Beats me,” the witch passively answered. “You should’ve thought about that before you came here. Now you’ll have no choice but to lay in the bed you made and embrace your curse.”
You froze at the last word, your stomach flipping. “Wait…did you say that I’m…cursed?” You practically whispered the last word. The witch just stared at you, her lips curled into a wicked smirk.
You began to beg, desperate to have your body back. “Please, miss,” you pleaded, tears springing into your eyes. “You have to turn me back. I’m sorry for coming into your home and trying to steal your shit, I swear! I-I was just exploring and–“
“Save it.” The witch put up a hand, silencing you. “There is nothing you can do to sway me now. This curse is to teach you to beware of places you shouldn’t go near.”
You stared down in horror at your tail, wondering how the fuck you got here. “What am I supposed to do now?” you sobbed. “You can’t just leave me like this! There has to be something I can do if you can’t!”
The witch’s smirk faded, her eyes steely. Finally, she sighed. “There is one thing,” she said and you listened intently, desperate to do anything to free yourself from this curse. “You must sing a song,” she explained, “but not just any song. This tune is designed to lure males across the waters to you, wherever you are.”
She then closed her eyes and began to sing the words in a cracked, broken voice:
“Where the river meets the sea, and the Grand Blue stretches,
I call to the night and hope my sweet voice beckons
The love of a man, strong, sweet, and true
In hopes that my yearning will meet and embrace you.
My loneliness calls and my need is taking toll
On my body, my mind, my heart, and my soul.
I wish for a love that will free me from my chains,
And help me find the light in the darkness again.”
“What happens after I’ve lured a man to me?” you carefully asked once her song ended.
You felt as if you just had gotten high and were hallucinating when the witch answered you: “When they come to you, they must take your body as it is and give you ultimate pleasure until you both reach the point of no return. Then, and only then, will the curse be broken and your legs will be given back to you.”
You blinked up at her, wondering if she was serious. “So you’re telling me that if I sing a song and I get a guy to fuck me, I’ll get my legs back?” you raged. “Are you fuckin’ for real right now?”
The witch smiled at you, ever the bitch. “You asked and I answered,” she said. “So if you want your legs back, I suggest you start warming up those vocal cords. Good luck, bitch.”
Then, in a cloud of smoke and the sound of a menacing cackle, she was gone along with her treasure chest, leaving you wiggling and squirming around in the dark with your new limb.
After crying out for the witch for over an hour, you finally took your sword, sheathed it, and dragged yourself to the mouth of the cave before plummeting into the ocean. You were shocked at how well you could breathe underwater as well as swim. Your tail adapted immediately which made it easier to explore the ocean floor. It didn’t take long for you to find the cave you now call your new home.
Since that fateful night, you’ve sat on the same rock and sang the same song. No ships yet. And certainly, no dick that could help lift this stupid curse.
But you won’t give up yet. So just like every dark night, you close your eyes and sing the siren song that the witch taught you all that time ago:
“Where the river meets the sea, and the Grand Blue stretches,
I call to the night and hope my sweet voice beckons
The love of a man, strong, sweet, and true
In hopes that my yearning will meet and embrace you.
My loneliness calls and my need is taking toll
On my body, my mind, my heart, and my soul.
I wish for a love that will free me from my chains,
And help me find the light in the darkness again.”
You stare out in the distance for the sight of a ship penetrating the fog among the ocean. Something. A sign of life. Nothing comes. No one is coming for you. After all this time, you’d think you’d understand that.
The tears that drip down your cheeks are fast and fat, plopping into the water that your fin dips in. You sob into your hands, anguish and anger overtaking you. You should’ve known to have never gone into that cave.
Now your entire life is destined to this: singing a stupid song in hopes that a man will come to you and cum in you. Maybe you had died that night in the witch’s cave and are in some watery version of Hell.
After drying your eyes, you slide down the rock and swim through the calm waters back to your cave filled with items from the human world that you’ve collected over time. They are all that reminded you of the life that is now foreign to you. You then drag yourself to a small bed of seaweed and close your eyes, letting the waves and quiet night lull you to sleep.
When you awaken, it isn’t that long later. Actually, you only have a fifteen-minute nap when you are suddenly awakened by voices. You shoot up from your seaweed bed and squint through the darkness of the furthest reaches of the cave. The parts you haven’t explored in the year you’ve been here. You have no idea what is back there, but nothing has bothered you in the time you’ve occupied this space…until now.
The voices grow from harsh whispers in the dark to loud, clear words that echo along the walls. You quickly reach for your sword and hide behind a nearby rock, listening intently on their conversation:
“Move quicker, Mosshead! Nami and Robin are waiting for me back on the ship and I refuse to make them wait any longer!” This voice is deep, undeniably male, and tinged with a slight accent. Maybe French?
The other voice belonging to another male says something under his breath that sounds like Japanese. “You already made ‘em dinner, you simp. They’re not worried about what you do. Now be quiet before I make you.” This voice is much deeper than the other one and raspy.
Though different, both voices are undeniably and incredibly attractive. Sexy, even. They make something stir in your tummy that you thought was long gone.
“Are you sure even this is the right cave?” the French-accented man asks. “Knowing your sense of direction, we could be walking right into the belly of the beast or something.”
“My sense of direction is just fine!” the deep-voiced man growls. The French man just chuckles. “And yes, it is the right cave. This is the exact place that ship got wrecked a couple months ago. You know, the one Snowbeard’s crew was on?”
Snowbeard. You haven’t heard that name in ages, not since he crashed into your cave anyway. You had just been chilling on a rock when his pirate chip ventured on you, blocking out the sun. The next thing you knew, you were fighting off his big, hulking self, his crew, and the nets they tried to use to capture you.
“Take her alive, boys!” the old, white-bearded pirate ordered, grinning greedily at you. “She’ll be worth more if I get her while she’s breathin’!”
You had fortunately escaped thanks to your quick swimming, but didn’t count on them following you. When you dove under the water near your cave, Snowbeard made a miscalculation and crashed into the side of your cave. No one died though––the captain and his crew had managed to retreat on inflatable boats as the old pirate screamed and proclaimed his revenge on you.
“Stupid bitch!” he angrily shouted, shaking his fists at the blue sky above. “I’ll get her. If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll find that mermaid and take her myself, whether she’s alive or dead.”
That scared you half to death to say the least. Since then, you’ve been wary to come out in daylight and Snowbeard’s things have been left to sink to the bottom of the sea or rust in your cave.
“Sooo why are we in here again?” the French man asks. The sound of footsteps draws nearer, coaxing you farther behind the rock. “To look for some loot and take it back to the ship,” the deep-voiced man replies. “Well, for me, at least. You seem to be more interested in that stupid ass song you heard.”
“And that you heard too!” the French man yelps. "Don’t deny it! You wouldn’t be here with me if you didn’t.” You nearly stop breathing. Song? They heard your song? Could they possibly be here for…you?
The deep-voiced man clucks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and you picture him rolling his eyes. “Whatever. I’m more concerned about all that coin that was rumored to be somewhere in here from the shipwreck.”
You can hear him getting closer, the thud of boots unmistakeable. You clutched your sword tighter, angling it in a way that you’ll be able to thrust and stab if they come near you.
Your eyes flit to the cave wall, seeing their shadows flit in the moonlight. They’re getting closer. They’ll find you.
The French man hums indifferently to himself. “Didn’t that song sound…I don’t know…sad to you?” He asks. "And that voice…”
He pauses, sighing wistfully to himself. “It was so, so beautiful, yet so broken. It was filled with such yearning and need and oh, shit!” His adoring rambling is cut short when he happens upon your rock and gets nothing but a sword in his face.
You can now see that his face matches his attractive voice: a square jaw, plump lips, and a green eye that matches his cropped hair and the pants he wears on those thick thighs; pectorals that push against his cotton shirt where you can see a peek of his chiseled abs and tan skin; big, beefy arms and hands that clench at his sides where his swords are.
His partner is just as alluring. He is taller, skinnier, and shorter than the big, buff swordsman…and also more classier dressed. He wears a suit with slacks that cover his long legs and has blond hair that hangs slightly in front of his face, covering one of his grayish-blue eyes. He is just as handsome with a goatee and a cigarette hanging from between his kissable lips. One of his twirly eyebrows raises in surprise at the sight of you.
Meanwhile, the swordsman chooses violence immediately. “What the fuck?” he bellows, immediately reaching for his sword strapped to his hip, but the blonde French man stops him. “Wait, wait!” he shouts. “Don’t touch her!”
The green-haired swordsman glares at him confusedly. “And what? Let her get us with that big ass sword?”
You continue to clutch the sword out, prepared to fight if necessary despite your tail. “Get back,” you growl. “Both of you stay away from me!” You switch between both of them, baring your teeth as if that will make them beware you even more than the sword in their faces.
The blonde pushes the swordsman’s hand down and backs him away from you. “Okay, okay,” he soothingly says. “We’re staying away, not touching you or being threatening in any type of way. We’re sorry we startled you, miss. I-Is this your cave?” He looks around your home, admiring the trinkets.
“Yes,” you snap. “And you two need to leave now if you know what’s good for you.” The swordsman rolls his emerald eye at you. “Relax, lady,” he growls. “We’re just here to check out this cave for shipwreck stuff. We have no interest in you or your…is that a fucking tail?”
You realize they are both now gawking straight at your tail, their eyes trailing over its scales and the fin that flaps about. You squeak in fear, hiding it behind the rock.
“Why…you’re a mermaid!” the blonde gasps, his eyes turning into literal hearts. “What a beauty you have! But, of course, such a beautiful creature deserves one.” He gives you a dashing smile, putting on the charm. “What is your name, may I ask?”
You weigh your options for a moment, deciding whether or not to tell them your name or anything about you. But they don’t seem too threatening, even the swordsman despite his scowl. “Y/N,” you answer.
The blonde bows to you, comically so. “Lovely to meet you, Y/N. I’m Sanji Vinsmoke and this green-headed bitch behind me is–“
“Zoro,” the swordsman rasps. “Roronoa.”
Your ears perk in recognition at the sounds of their names. “From the Strawhats? Monkey D. Luffy’s crew?”
The duo share glances, Sanji looking happier than Zoro that you know who they are. “I know you. You’re part of the most notorious pirate crew in the world. I’ve heard of what you’ve done for others. You…help people.”
You say this last part to yourself as your head travels farther from your body, recounting all of the stories you’ve heard about the Strawhats. For the past several years, you’ve heard of their doings, helping others from across the sea. You’ve always been so impressed in them, admiring their work and their adventures. Now that you’re here meeting two members, you realize just what can be done to help you…hopefully.
“Well, we’ve traveled a bit and have helped a few enslaved villages,” Sanji chuckles, fixing his tie. He peers down at you, his brows knitted in concern. “Are you in need of some sort of assistance, sweet lady? How can we help?”
Zoro elbows him hard, glaring at him and his pain. “Are you nuts?” he growls. “We barely even know her!” Sanji recovers quickly and elbows Zoro back. “Exactly! So maybe this way, we can get to know her!”
Zoro grimaces at the blonde. “Why? So you can get your dick wet? You can’t even do that on the ship with Nami and Robin.”
Sanji’s face suddenly goes redder than a tomato and you nearly see steam coming out of his ears. “Why, you fucking–”
“The song,” you interrupt them. The duo stop their arguing and stare at you cluelessly. “You heard my song.” The realization clears the fog over their faces. Zoro blinks at you, his face in a permanent scowl. “Wait…that was you? You sang that?”
You slowly nod at him, your heart thundering in your chest. So both of them did hear it! That can only mean…
“I told you it was real, you bloke!” Sanji guffaws, slapping his knee. “You thought I was crazy, but–”
“You heard me,” you interrupt him. You’re breathless, feeling winded as the realization hits you: your help is here. Finally. “You came. Then that means…you’re here for me.” You stare up at your two attractive saviors. They can help you. They have the power to do so. Sanji and Zoro give you similarly confused scowls as if you just spoke gibberish.
“Please,” you beg. You put the sword down and reveal yourself to them from behind the rock. You show them your seashell bra, gills, and tail, watching awe register across their faces. “I need your help. I’ve been stuck with this fucking tail for a year now by this stupid witch and now I-”
“Wait, wait, slow down, darling,” Sanji says. “You need to slow down a bit so we can understand you.” His soothing voice coaxes you to stop and take a breath. “Okay,” you sigh, gathering your thoughts. “I’m sorry. It’s just been so long since I’ve spoken to anyone or told anyone about this.” Zoro quirks an interested eyebrow. “About what?” he probes.
And so, you tell them everything from the very beginning of that fateful, dreadful night. You watch them intently as you give them every detail, right down to the witch’s nasty ass toenails. Confusion, awe, and a twinge of fear register across their handsome faces until you finally finish.
Silence swells around you three for a moment, intensified by the cave. “So you’ve been cursed as a mermaid all this time and you sing that song in hopes that someone will come to free you?” Sanji asks.
You frantically nod, though you leave out one important part: that you have to be fucked in order to be freed. And since there are two males who were lured after your song, that means you’ll have to fuck both…which is fine with you. To be honest, they’re attractive enough that you’d probably enjoy it and you’re so horny that you’d fuck anyone at this point…well, maybe you’re reaching with that. You still have standards, curse or not.
“How do we know you’re not lying?” Zoro asks, giving you an accusatory squint with one eye. Sanji gives him a criticizing glare.
“Why would I lie about this, swordsman?” you scoff. “I’m miserable here! I can’t get back home and I’ve lost my entire life because of this!” You point at your tail that swishes around in irritation and impatience, almost like a cat’s tail.
Zoro purses his lips at you. “Which you got from your own choice, might I add.” You flush with anger. Why is he making this so hard for you? “Why should we help you?” he continues, squinting at you. “We don’t even know you.”
“And yet I could’ve killed you from entering my domain,” you shoot back. The swordsman opens his mouth to argue further, but nothing comes out. You’ve stumped him. Sanji sniggers, earning an elbow in the stomach.
“Listen,” you sigh. “I know this is strange, but I wouldn’t be asking you of this if I didn’t need this. And after we’re through, we can part ways like this night never happened.”
The pirates give each other a look, silently conversing with one another before turning back to you. “Well, how exactly do we free you?” Sanji asks.
Oh, right. You didn’t get to that part. “Um…well…” You nervously bite your lip, trying your best to make this sound as normal and less nasty as possible. “You’d have to…make love to me. Something about accepting my body as it is now to free me.”
As you suspected, both men stare at you like you’re unhinged. “I know this sounds insane and you have every reason to refuse, but I’m so desperate right now!” you practically sob. “I’ve been stuck in this body for so long that I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be human.”
You press your hands together in a prayer, fat tears sticking to your lashes. “Please, help me. Please!” Sanji kneels before you, putting a hand on your shoulder. “Shhh, darling,” he hushes you. “I’ll help you.”
Zoro is just as shocked as you are. “Are you serious?” He asks. The love chef looks over his shoulder at the swordsman, sticking his nose up at him. “Well, you’re not exactly making a move. Now leave so we can have some privacy.” He then turns his attention back to you, his eyes filled with lust and charm.
You once again nervously gnaw on your bottom lip, unaware that the act is getting to Sanji and Zoro. “W-Well…it’d have to be both of you since I lured both of you with my song.”
Sonja’s eyes widen and his cigarette falls out of his mouth. “Wait…him too?! Forreal?! He doesn’t even know what to do with a woman!”
Zoro glares at the love chef. “Oh, and you do?” he barks. “Most women run away from your pervin’ ass!”
“But…are you two up for it?” you ask, looking between both of the sexy strangers. The question seems to stump the two who stare at each other, coming to a decision. Finally, Zoro sighs and lowers his swords. “Only if he don’t get in my way,” he grumbles. “And only if you do whatever I say.”
Your heart leaps with joy though you also feel apprehensive. Having sex with strangers is by far the riskiest thing you’ve done in your chaotic life…but if it means getting rid of your curse then so be it. You’ll do anything to be human again!
The men are just as nervous as you are. Zoro clears his throat as he kneels, a blush on his tan cheeks. “So how do we start this?”
Sanji gives you a wobbly smile, an awkward chuckle leaving his lips. “Pardon my nerves,” he sheepishly says. “I’m afraid I can’t make love to a woman if I don’t really know her first.”
You understand and you have a solution. One of the perks of being a mermaid means you have ‘special powers’. “I can help,” you seductively whisper, your tone change shaking the pirates. “Just look at me.”
They do as you say and stare into your eyes. You lock your eyes with them, only needing a few seconds to peer into their minds and deep inside their souls. You take all of their anxiety, all of their stress, and all of their apprehension. You leave nothing but pleasure, calmness, and an undying need for you. The same need you have for them.
Instantly, the pirates are put at immediate ease, both of them sighing, their muscles loosening and their bodies relaxing. Sanji’s eyes flutter closed, his long lashes fanning his cheeks. “Fuck, that feels…nice,” he sighs. “I feel so calm.”
Zoro nods, his thick muscles and shoulders practically melting. “Mmm,” he hums in agreement. “And so…so…fuck, what did you do to us?” He scowls at you, though it is empty. All you can see is lust and need in his pretty, green eyes. All for you. Just the way you want.
“I just used some hypnotism to relax you and make it so your inhibitions won’t be so constrained,” you explain. To put it bluntly, you made them pitifully horny for you.
While Sanji looks surprised, Zoro is livid. “Hypnotism?!” he bellows. “You hypnotized us?! We didn’t…fuck…w-we didn’t ask you to…goddammit!”
He begins breathing heavily, his cheeks flushed and his bottom lip caught between his teeth. Your powers are working overtime on him. Sanji too! The man looks like he can’t wait to get his hands on you, whimpering quietly to himself.
You put a hand on Zoro’s arm, the slightest touch making him jump. You can feel his muscles pulsing under your fingertips, a testament to how needy he is. “Don’t fight it,” you gently tell him. “It will only make it worse.”
Your eyes flicker down to his lap, seeing a hard bulge already making its appearance. Sanji is just as worse off, his cock pressing against his pants. You lick your lips at the lewd sight of both of their dicks straining and throbbing for you. Soon, you’ll have them all to yourself.
You lean in towards Zoro, your eyes falling onto his plump lips. “Please,” you whisper in the small space between your lips. “Help me.”
Suddenly, Zoro stops fighting and gives in to his inhibitions. His green eye darkens, exciting you. “You want our help?” he mutters. “You’re gonna have to beg a little bit better than that.”
Sanji moves behind you, pressing himself against you so you feel the outline of his cock against your backside. “Listen to him, ma chéri,” he teasingly whispers to you. “And since there’s two of us, you’ll have to listen to me too.”
His arms, less bulky than Zoro’s but sill sinewy with muscle, wrap around you. You quietly gasp, your body coming to life. His touch feels so good. So warm. You need more.
“Please,” you whimper. “Please save me. Free me. Just fuck me.” Zoro inhales, taken by your plea, while Sanji laughs in your ear. “So vulgar,” he tsks. “You should’ve said ‘make love’, darling.” His lips begin to lightly peck your neck and shoulders, his kisses warm and soft.
Zoro presses his calloused palm against your cheek, shivering at the way you press your face into his ouch. “Not for a needy thing like her. She needs something more.”
His thumb moves against your boom lip, playing with it. “Don’t you?” he questions. You desperately nod. “Then we’ll give it to you, but we’ll have to do everything we say, understand?” Again, you nod, pressing a kiss to his thumb.
“And tell us exactly how to please you,” Sanji adds. “I’m afraid I’ve never had the pleasure of making love to a mermaid before, and I’m sure Mosshead hasn’t either.” If looks could kill, Sanji would be dead right now from the way Zoro stares at him. “Can we start by kissing?” you nervously ask.
The pirate duo are happy to oblige. “Come here,” Sanji whispers, turning your face to meet him. But before he can lay one on you, Zoro beats him to the punch and moves his head in front of Sanji’s to lay his lips on yours. “Hey!” Sanji growls.
Zoro ignores him, kissing you passionately, the kiss growing more heated and rougher with every second. You both moan into the kiss, diving deeper and deeper into each other’s lips and the feelings it invokes. His kiss is rough and needy; nasty with the way he swirls his tongue with yours; playful with the way he nibbles on your bottom lip and allows you to do the same to his.
You wrap one arm around his neck, bringing him closer to you. His big hands begin to slide down your body, feeling your scales and gills against your fingertips. Sanji does the same, kissing down your scaly back. They don’t shy away or cringe from your imperfections and differences. They treat you like you’re the sexiest, most precious thing in the world to them.
“Turn around, darling,” Sanji whispers. “I want to taste you too.” You tear yourself away from Zoro, but keep one of your arms locked around his head. You do the same to Sanji, letting him put his head through the hole of your other arm to reach you.
He presses his lips to yours, moaning as soon as your mouths touch. His kiss is less rough and urgent than Zoro’s, but it is just as passionate. He takes his time getting to know your mouth, his tongue asking for permission to slip into your mouth by gently caressing your bottom lip. You part your lips, allowing him entrance, and busy yourself with the sloppy kiss while Zoro kisses your neck.
Their hands on you feel so good yet so agonizing, fire licking across your body. You need more. Anticipation flares inside of you, quickly boiling. You pull away from a panting Sanji, a string of saliva connecting to your bottom lips. “Take off your clothes,” you demand, your voice breathless and needy. “I need you both naked.”
The two men smirk at you, loving how eager you are. “Such a needy lady,” Sanji chuckles, pressing a kiss to your jawline. “You should probably join us though, darling. After all, we can’t be the only ones indecent.”
“How the fuck do you take this off?” Zoro growls, his thick fingers impatiently trying to get your seashell bra off. While Sanji barks that he’ll break it if he isn’t careful, you giggle and show Zoro how to take off your bra.
You let it fall, revealing your perfect breasts and hardened nipples to them. You relish the way they stare at you, eyes widen with lust and awe. “Fuck,” Zoro sighs, bringing his hands up to grasp your titties and give them a squeeze. “You’re fuckin’ perfect.”
“That’s something we can agree on,” Sanji murmurs, unconsciously rutting himself against your backside. “Apologies, darling, but I need to get these fucking pants off.” You smile at him, seductively so. ��What’s stopping you?” You purr.
The two men hurry to strip themselves of their clothes, tossing off their shirts and pants, even their shoes and socks. You admire their bodies as they take off each article of clothing, your eyes hungrily drinking in their muscles and sun-tanned skin. When they are finally just in their undies, they wait for you to give them the green light on what to do next though their shafts throb with need.
“Stand up for me,” you softly demand. They scramble to do so, trying to beat each other to the punch. You coax them to lean against the rock behind them before you loop your fingers through the waistband of their briefs. They watch you, cheeks flushed, hearts thumping, their bottom lips caught between their teeth.
You only have to peel the waistbands of their undies down a few inches before both of their cocks are popping out from below. Your eyes widen in delight at their opposing sizes and lengths, already imagining how they’d feel in either of your holes. While Zoro is girthy, thick, and tanner with a beautiful pink head, Sanji is longer and skinnier but curves upward, protruding from a nest of blonde curls.
“Shit,” you moan, hungry for them, your pupils dilating at the impressive appendages. “You both are so pretty.”
Sanji blushes at the compliment while Zoro clucks his tongue indifferently. “A cock can’t be pretty,” he argues. All of that fight dissipates though when you wrap a hand around his shaft, slowly stroking it upward.
“But your cock is pretty, baby,” you protest. “So hard and beautiful…Both of yours are. Let me show you.” And so you begin to stroke both of them at the same time, getting used to how they feel in your hands, your thumbs caressing their heads every time you stroke up.
The pirates softly moan and purr encouragingly at the feeling of your slender, soft, warm hands pumping their cocks, their bodies melting against the rock. “Fuck,” Zoro moans, tossing his head back, exposing his thick neck and Adam’s Apple to you. “Put another spell on me, why don’t ya?”
You giggle, giving his shaft a tantalizing lick that makes him shiver. “Don’t tempt me, pretty boy,” you purr, the nickname damn near making the swordsman combust. His moans are deep and soft, bubbling up from his chest.
Sanji’s moans are louder and sluttier, his voice echoing throughout the cave and bouncing against the walls. “God, darling!” He groans. “Y-Your hand is so…s-so…fuck!”
Zoro laughs at his partner despite his body shivering and trembling at your touch. “Damn, Sanji, it’s only her hand,” he cackles. “Can’t handle it, huh?” The love chef glares at him, sweat glistening on his forehead. “F-Fuck you,” he stammers.
“Uh-uh, baby,” you gently critique. “You should be fucking me.” Keeping your eyes locked with his, you wrap your juicy, soft lips around his throbbing, long cock, finally taking him into your mouth.
Sanji’s eyes grow wide at the sight, barely able to handle it. “Oh, fuck yes,” he groans, his hand moving to your head. “God, ma chéri, you’re so good to me. How is it you’re this good?”
You have no clue being that it’s been a year since you sucked dick. But the act comes so naturally to you. You bob your head up and down his length, gathering spit to help you suck on his cock better. Saliva drips down your chin as you gag all over his cock, pumping him in and out of your mouth.
Sanji watches you from behind the slits of his eyes, his hips struggling to keep still. Noticing, you pop off of his cock for a moment with a gasp, inhaling. “It’s okay,” you whisper. “Fuck my mouth, baby. Take what you need.”
Those words are enough for Sanji to finally break. Once you slide back onto his cock, he grips your hair with enough strength to keep you there but not enough to make you feel trapped. He then begins rolling his slender hips into your mouth, his balls touching your chin as you gag and slobber on his dick. “O-Oh, my God,” he moans. "Ma chéri, your mouth is so perfect.”
Zoro watches his partner fuck you, in awe at how good you take that long dick down your greedy throat. His own cock pulses and throbs in your hand, his hips unconsciously fucking your palm, imagining it to be your pretty face. He finally can’t take the waiting anymore and wraps a hand around his cock. “Ain’t I here too?” He huffs. “C’mon, babe, I need your mouth too.”
You smile despite Sanji’s cock in your mouth, gently tapping the love chef’s hip. He gets the message and slides out of your mouth, his cock now shining and dripping in your spit. “I thought you’d never ask,” you breathlessly reply and envelope him into your mouth finally.
Zoro’s cock is thicker so it stretches your mouth out in a way Sanji’s didn’t. You can feel it as it plunges down your throat, insisting that you take it deeper. Unlike Sanji, Zoro doesn’t wait for you to tell him to fuck your throat. He does it anyway, gripping your hair to give him leverage as he pumps his hips back and forth, sliding his cock against your tongue and hollowed cheeks.
“Goddamn!” Zoro hisses, watching the way his dick disappears and reappears between your plump lips, saliva bubbling at the corner of your mouth as your throat expands around his shaft. “The love chef is right about one thing: your mouth is perfect, baby.”
“I told you,” Sanji hums, lovingly running his fingers through your hair while he slowly fucks your hand that is now sodden wet from your saliva and his dripping pre-cum. “She’s a wonder of the Grand Blue.”
Zoro grunts in agreement, a loud moan leaving his body as your free hand massages his heavy balls. “Oh, you’re a slut,” he breathlessly chuckles. “You can’t help but want all of me.”
“And me!” Sanji whines, quickly becoming more turned on at the sight of the swordsman using your throat like it’s a toy. “God, Zoro, relax. She’s a woman, not a pocket pussy!”
Zoro glares at him, pissed that he is ruining his fun and his concentration. “Tell her that; not me. She’s enjoying this shit.” And you are. Your ‘pussy’ is throbbing from having both dicks all to yourself plus the luxury of having two sexy men fight over you.
Speaking of fighting, Zoro is currently at war with the urge to cum. “God, baby, you’re too good at this,” he groans. “You’re gonna make me cum soon.”
“No, no!” Sanji shouts, prying the swordsman’s hand off of your head so you can retract yourself from his cock. “You can’t cum in her mouth. It has to be inside of her to free her, remember?”
“I know that!” Zoro barks, still laying a hand on your head. “I was only tellin’ her to warn her.”
“Then you’d better switch with me and let me fuck her mouth a little more,” Sanji argues. “You’ve been too greedy. Don’t forget, I’m here too, Mosshead.” Zoro rolls his eyes, not looking too happy at sharing. “Fine, but don’t take so long.”
So the two share you, passing you around like a hot potato, fucking your mouth like it’s no one’s business. They shower you with praise and encouragement, telling you to take them deeper, calling you a “good girl”. Their words make you wetter, your slit throbbing impatiently. You want to get filled the same way your throat is.
“You’re doing so well, taking us at the same time like this, darling,” Sanji lovingly says. “What can we do to repay you for your kindness, hm?” Zoro seems to want to know too because he slips his cock out of your mouth so you can answer, but still ruts himself against your hand.
You don’t hesitate telling them what you need: “I want you to taste me,” you imploringly answer. “I want you to touch me.” The two smile at your neediness, their hands caressing your face and hair.
“Tell us how,” Zoro says. Though it sounds like a demand, you can tell that he is just as eager to please you as Sanji is judging by how quickly he gets on his knees to reach you better. “I’ve never been with a mermaid before.”
You smirk at him, causing him to blush. “Oh, really?” You ask. “I’d expect such a renowned swordsman to have been with plenty of women.” Sanji chuckles, earning a hot glare from the swordsman. “I’m just teasing you,” you giggle, pressing an apologetic kiss to his lips. “I’ll show you both how to touch me.”
Sanji kneels down with Zoro, both of them paying close attention to your anatomy. You lay back against a bed of seaweed and run your fingers over your throbbing slit several inches below your belly button. “Here,” you breathlessly say. “Right here.”
The two stare at it, realizing that it has its own puffy lips that are glistening in your wetness. Sanji, salivating at the sight, struggles to speak. “Is this your…y-your—“
“Pussy,” you finish, giggling at his stutter. “It’s just a slit, but it’s just as sensitive as one. My tail too.” You flap your tail around, pointing at your fins.
“You like bein’ touched here?” Zoro curiously asks. You nod. “On my fin and my scales. Just light stroke them with your fingertips. I’m very sensitive there.”
‘Please touch me there,’ you beg in your head. ‘Touch me anywhere.’ Your body burns like a flame, desperate to be touched, felt, and held. You are touch-starved and the way these men move their hands is making your appetite worse.
While Sanji stays at your side, Zoro moves down to your tail, gently placing it in his lap. “Like…this?” He probes, gently running his fingers down your scales. Your back arches and a whimper leaves your lips, his fingertips leaving a trail of pleasurable sparks in their wake. Zoro smirks at your reaction.
“Oh, she’s a sensitive one,” Sanji coos. “We’ll be careful with you, darling girl. Just relax.”
Then, gently and slowly, the French man begins sucking and licking up, down, and around your slit, exploring your wet folds. A loud moan that bounces off of the cave walls explodes from your body, finally unlocked from the treasure chest within you. “Hey!” Zoro barks. “Why do you get to go first?”
Sanji, pissed at being interrupted, turns to glare at his partner over his shoulder. “You’re down there with her tail, aren’t you?” He scoffs. “Shut up and keep stroking. If you don’t, I’ll take your spot there too.”
He then goes back to making out with your ‘pussy’, giving you gentle strokes with his tongue. You gently place your hands on his face and aim his face downward, his nose rubbing up against your clit.
The love chef hums and moans in pleasure just as you do, loving your taste and how wet you are. Even better are the sounds you make: desperate and beautiful moans, whimpers, and gasps drawn out of your body that echo in the empty sea cave with no one to witness but the two men currently pleasuring you.
Zoro moves his calloused fingers down to your tail fins, gently stroking up and down with his thumb and forefinger. His other one plays with your scales, his fingers tracing them like one would guitar strings. You can only describe the feeling as having a thousand tiny clits that are repeatedly stimulated. It’s a glorious, wonderful feeling.
“Oh, sh-shit!” You gasp, sensitive from such stimulation. “That feels s-so fucking good!”
Zoro picks his head up to intently look at you, a proud smirk playing on his lips. “Yeah?” He teasingly asks, his green eye piercing into yours. “I bet I’m makin’ you feel so good, aren’t I, baby?” He leans down to begin kissing down your scales, his tongue poking between his lips to gently slide down your tail. You damn near cum right there.
Sanji is still becoming acquainted with your slit, his tongue swirling about between your lips and against them while his nose swipes against the hood of your clit. He ticks his hooded eyes up to meet yours, hearts practically floating in them as he stares at your pretty tits and parted mouth as you moan. “And me too?” He asks, desperate to hear you say it. “Am I making you feel good too, darling?”
He does some kind of trick with his tongue that touches some spot inside of you that nearly makes you cum right there all over his face. ”Yes!” You whine. “Yes, yes, right here!”
Your hands grab his blonde hair, fingering his locks and keeping him locked against your cunt. He hungrily eats at you, his hands moving underneath you to hold your ass. When he pulls away, his mouth is sodden wet from you and he eagerly licks at his lips. “You’re so wet here, mon chere,” he gasps, his finger lightly toying with your pussy lips. “I could just slide my finger in.”
You flush at the idea, having already thought about it. “Um…you can,” you shyly say. “But can you both share?”
Zoro and Sanji look at each other, surprisingly not put off with the idea. Zoro quirks an eyebrow at you and you feel his hard cock nudge at your tail. “You want us to eat you out at the same time?” He asks. Sanji tuts, moving over to make room for the swordsman. “So desperate for us.”
And they give you exactly what you want. They take turns eating and slurping your wet pussy slit, licking and sucking your clit while the other fingers your slit, hooking either one or two upwards to stroke your G-spot. Sanji’s fingers are slender and long, perfect for piano, while Zoro’s are thick and fill you up.
They each offer copious amounts of saliva, spitting on your pussy even when the other has their fingers in you. But neither seem to care, too focused on making you lose your everloving mind.
And you are. Broken moans and high-pitched whines leave your lips, your hands gripping their hair and any part of their bodies for dear life. “Oh, my God,” you moan, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “You’re both so good at this!”
Sanji’s mouth leaves your clit to leave kisses on your breasts instead, his hands groping what his mouth isn’t stimulating. You go to rub your clit, but Zoro firmly places your hand on your stomach. His eyes are fierce and stern, exciting you. “Uh-uh,” he firmly says. “Don’t touch her. She’s ours right now.”
‘She’s ours’. Your pussy is theirs. You feel yourself shiver, enjoying the idea of you being theirs.
Sanji presses a kiss to your panting lips, sucking gently on your tongue. “Put us where you want, darling girl,” he implores. “Show us what you need.” And when he goes back down to join his partner in feasting on your cunt, you push his head down onto your slit while Zoro finger fucks you.
The two don’t switch this time, probably because your moans have grown louder, signaling your end nearing. You can feel it the more Zoro’s thick digits curl up to fuck you, emitting lewd, wet sounds as they swirl in your wet slit. You can feel it the more Sanji makes love to your clit, swirling his tongue around and around. That knot in your core tightens with each second, threatening to snap.
“Oooh, fuck!” you croon. “Shit, you’re gonna make me cum! I’m gonna…gonna…!”
You can feel it. Just something more. A little more to give you that push. The swordsman is that push, his rough, velvety voice reaching your eardrums to encourage you to finally let go.
“Cum, baby,” Zoro moans. “Give it to us. We’ve got you.” Sanji hums in agreement into your slit, his tongue moving in perfect time with Zoro’s thrusting fingers.
Finally, you break and with a loud, ear-shattering moan, you cum all over them. Their mouths, their fingers, and their chests become covered in your cum…or squirt when you finally realize that you’re squirting. You didn’t even know mermaids could squirt!
Zoro shoves Sanji out of the way to get himself a taste, but Sanji is too busy laughing with joy at your loud orgasm to get mad. “My, what a voice!” He laughs. “Such lungs on you, ma chéri. I suppose you needed that?”
You slowly nod, coming down from your high. “That was amazing,” you sigh. “Thank you.”
You stare at both of them with such gratitude that Zoro blushes despite having just swallowed your squirt. He awkwardly wipes his mouth with his hand, his cheeks red. “Of course,” he says, clearing his throat. “So, uh…do you still want to—“
“Yes,” you giggle, sitting up and staring into their eyes. “Yes, I do. I don’t care who goes first; just as long as you’re both in me.”
Your libido is still high as is your need. You want both of them on you, in you, now. At this point it’s less about the curse and more about wanting to be filled and fucked by these two sexy idiots.
The two stare at each other, silently trying to come to an agreement. “I go first,” they say in unison then immediately become irked. “Why you?” They ask each other, quickly growing angrier at the fact that they share the same brain.
“Because you had her mouth first,” Zoro snaps. “Ya didn’t even ask me if I wanted first dibs!” Sanji opens his mouth to retort but then stops, pausing to think it over. “He does have a point,” you mutter.
“Yes, but…you’re too big!” Sanji argues, motioning to Zoro’s big body. “You might crush her or be too rough! You can’t just fuck her like you did her mouth. You need to take your time to get to know her body.” The two begin to go back and forth like two kids, tossing in immature insults and stupid nicknames.
As hilarious as the scene is, you can feel your slit throbbing impatiently and your need quickly growing to new heights. “Boys,” you firmly say, grabbing their attention. “Instead of fighting, why don’t you both just fuck me together?”
The duo blink at you, confused. “How?” Sanji asks, perplexed. “You mean…one gets your pussy and the other gets your…oh.” When he realized where that other dick is going, his cheeks grow hot. “What?”
Zoro snaps. “What does she mean?”
Sanji sighs and whispers to him, making the swordsman turn as red as a tomato. “Um…are you okay with this?” The blonde nervously asks.
You’ve never been more okay with something in your life, you realize. You know in your heart of hearts that these two will take care of you, casual sex or not. “I wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t, pretty boy,” you giggle. “Are you okay with it?”
You look between the two, searching their faces for apprehension or any signs of second guessing. Despite their obvious nervousness, Zoro shakes his head, a determined scowl on his face. “Well…I suppose it is fair,” Sanji mutters. “We’ve shared her since the beginning, so why not continue?”
He turns to Zoro, puffing out his chest. “I-I’ll take the back if you want the front. Just as long as you don’t hurt her and you’re not too rough!” The swordsman rolls his emerald eyes, shoving the blonde out of the way. “Oh, shut up,” he huffs.
You suddenly find yourself being scooped up bridal style by Zoro, your tail flapping happily at the sweet act. You giggle and wrap your arms around his thick neck, leaning your head into his chest. He leans against a rock, keeping you against him, while Sanji stands behind you, his cock bobbing against your ass. Feeling yourself be sandwiched between both of them, your hands running over their muscles and abs, is enough to make you reach climax.
You keep your arms locked around Zoro’s neck, his face just inches from yours. “Is this okay?” He asks in your ear.
You nod, staring into his eye which reminds you of a vast, lush forest. It softens, flickering down to your lips. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers. “I promise I’ll make you feel so good.”
Hearing such a sweet promise coming from the rugged pirate invokes something with you that feels like butterflies. You smile and softly peck his lips. “I’ll hold you to it, swordsman,” you whisper against his lips.
Zoro smiles and gives you another chaste kiss before moving between your bodies to rub your clit. Once you begin to moan is when he slowly slides his cock against your sodden wet slit…and then the tip slips in. You both gasp at the contact, sharing pants and heated breaths. You begin to roll your hips against his, slowly taking him inch by inch inside of you.
“That’s it, mama,” he coos. “Nice an’ slow…nice a-and…fuck!” He squeezes his eyes shut, his pretty face screwed up at the pleasure your silky, spongy, wet walls bring him.
You’re feeling it too—his girthy cock makes him a lot thicker which causes your walls to stretch around him. It becomes easier the more he moves, wetness secreting from the both of you to act as lube.
“Look down, baby,” he whispers. Look at that pussy takin’ me.” You do and you see what has him so pent up: the way his thick cock plunges in and out of your slit is so lewd yet so sexy. The first cock you’ve taken in a year!
“Wow,” you say in astonishment. Sanji watches too, unconsciously rutting his cock against your backside.
“Keep going,” you plea, gripping the swordsman’s shoulders. “Fuck me, Zoro. Please.” He doesn’t need to be told twice. Immediately, he grabs your hips and proceeds to fuck you, practically bouncing you up and down his cock, invoking broken moans and gasps from your pretty lips.
Zoro watches your face change expressions, his lips sexily pressed together at the immense pleasure he feels whenever your tight, wet hole throbs and squeezes around him. He quickly loses control, letting go for you. “Oh, God,” he moans. “Fuck, you feel so fuckin’ good!”
He does too. The pleasure is blinding, wiping your mind blank. Almost enough to forget about the love chef. “Sorry to interrupt,” Sanji chuckles. “But you’ve got another cock to take care of, darling…after I prep you a bit back here.”
He presses his index finger to your lips, coaxing you to suck on it. You hungrily do so, stimulated by Zoro’s cock as he slowly fucks you, pistoning himself into you.
You then feel Sanji’s finger gently pry your cheeks apart and probe your asshole. You gasp into Zoro’s mouth as you feel the French man’s digit lightly trace your asshole, keeping his touch gentle and soft. “Good girl,” he whispers. “Does it feel good?”
“Y-Yeah,” you exhale, struggling to even speak from the pleasure. Though it’s a foreign feeling, it makes the pleasure of Zoro’s thrusts feel even better.
Then, slowly, Sanji sinks his finger into your asshole, emitting a moan from you. “That okay?” he asks. “Not too much?”
“N-No!” you whimper. “Fuck, it feels so good!” Your body turns into mesh, your head lulling onto Zoro’s shoulder, your eyes fluttering shut. It’s all too much to take.
Zoro tightens his grip on you, still pistoning into you. “Such a big girl takin’ us both like this.” He presses a soft kiss to your cheek. “Jesus Christ, Sanji, are you done yet?”
He glares at the blonde who has yet to slip his dick inside of you yet. “Hold on!” He barks. “I need to make sure she’ll be okay to take me!” But you know you are. Your asshole is as open and stretched as it’s going to be. Plus, your want is increasing and so is your need. You need, yearn, to be filled.
“Sanji, please,” you moan. “I need you.” You reach your arm back for him, hooking it around his neck to pull him flush against you. He holds your ass and massages it as you push back against him, rubbing his cock between your asscheeks. The act is so slutty and so unlike you, but you can’t help you. You need him too.
The blonde wraps one around his cock and brings it to your asshole, gently pushing his hips toward you. A gasp leaves his hips as soon as that tight muscle squeezes around him. You push back, taking more of him in you while Zoro pauses, letting you get used to both of them.
It’s a weird, strange feeling to be filled at both ends…but it also feels amazing. You can feel them touching every sensitive part of you that makes you see the entire galaxy behind your eyelids.
“Easy now, darling,” Sanji pants. “Take your time. Just meet me halfway.” You continue to do so, pushing back while he pulls forward. You toss your ass back into him, taking him deeper and deeper with every inch, forcing slutty moans and whimpers out of Sanji’s mouth. “Fuck,” he moans. “Fuck, ma chéri, you’re so tight here!”
Zoro smirks at the blonde over your shoulder. “Can’t handle it, Vinsmoke?” He sniggers. “Is that ass too tight?” Even though he’s the main one struggling not to move, his entire body trembling against you.
Sanji scowls at him. “Don’t be so vulgar,” he growls, but you can feel him throb inside of you. “Just shut up and fuck her.”
Shockingly, Zoro listens and the two begin to slowly move at the same time, falling into a rhythm that has you moaning and calling to God, your sounds bouncing off of the cave walls.
They both push in and pull back at the same time, each of them filling your holes which pushes you toward your second orgasm with every push and pull. Zoro presses his lips against your ear, his hips slamming into yours. “Thatta girl,” he praises. “Take those fuckin’ cocks. Such a good little slut, y’know that?”
You wordlessly whine at his degrading words, shuddering helplessly between them. The swordsman grips you to him, rubbing his pelvis up against yours. “Come the fuck here,” he growls. “You hear me talkin’ to you?”
“Y-Yes!” You whine. “I-I’m sorry! Fuck, Zoro, yes, right there!” Your rosebud sings with pleasure as Zoro continues to rub against it, your entire body coming to life from what you’re feeling.
Sanji caresses your face, turning you to face him. “You have the most beautiful voice, ma chéri,” he lovingly sighs. “I want to hear more of it. Will you sing more for us?”
As if persuading you, he rolls his hips in a way that makes both of you moan. “Do it,” you plead. “Fuck me.”
They do just that, taking you on the ride of your life, fucking you into oblivion. And their dicks aren’t the only things responsible. Every time their lips touch some part of your body—your neck, shoulders, lips, breasts—, every time their hands grope you, every time you grip or stroke their hard muscles and warm skin, you can feel that knot in your core begin to tighten as much as your wet slit and asshole do around their cocks.
At some point, their thrusts become faster and harder, keeping you squeezed between them and holding you up for better access to do as they want to you. They fuck you like there is no tomorrow, letting out loud moans and grunts that make you wetter, causing their cocks to become even slipprier so it’s easier to slide in and out of you. You can’t believe how good you feel, let alone how long it took for this to happen.
Zoro gives you an open-mouthed kiss, playfully nibbling on your bottom lip. “This enough for you, mama?” He whispers. “Are these dicks good enough for you?” Your tongue is too heavy to speak, the pleasure stealing your voice from you. “Aw, the poor baby can’t even speak,” he laughs.
Sanji is just as fucked up though, his hips moving on their own as he grips you to him. “Fuck, I’m close!” he moans. “I can’t wait to fill you up, darling. I’m gonna make you all mine.”
Zoro scowls at him questionably. “Yours?” He huffs. “What about me? You think your load is gonna be bigger than mine?”
The French man raises an eyebrow, smirking challengingly at him. “Let’s find out. We’ll see who can make her cum the quickest and fill her up the most.”
Always up for a challenge, Zoro gives him a smile. “You’re on.” He then locks his arms around you, keeping you dangling off of the floor. “Hold on tight to me, mama. This ride is gonna get bumpy.”
You tighten your arms around him, anchoring yourself to him while Sanji locks his arms around you. “Let us know if it’s too much, okay?” he whispers.
You nod, leaning your head back against his shoulder. You give yourself to them and they give their all to you, pounding your pretty pussy and even prettier asshole until you’re sobbing, fat tears glistening on your lash lines. Your tail fin curls in ecstasy the way your toes would and your hands move to grip your men’s hair, overcome with pleasure.
“O-Oh, fuck!” You sob. “Yes, yes, yes, just like that! I-I’m gonna cum!” You can feel it building with every passing second; with every drop of wetness that dribbles down your inner thighs and coats your slits. “Me too,” Zoro huffs. “You’re just too goddamn tight, baby.”
Sanji only gives you a wordless, slutty moan, unable to speak. But he doesn’t have to. You can feel both of their cocks throbbing and swelling inside of you, their thrusts becoming more urgent and much harder than before.
Tapping into your powers once more, you look both of them in the eye, keeping them close, wanting to be one. “Cum with me,” you demand. “Both of you cum with me now. Fill me up.”
After a few more sloppy, stuttering thrusts, the pirates give you what you want. They cum inside of you up at the same time, filling you up to the brim with two cream pies that knock the air out of you. Their slutty, loud moans and grunts trigger your own orgasm. With a shiver and an earth-shattering scream that nearly shatters the pirates’ eardrums, you finally combust and cum all over Zoro’s cock while your asshole clenches around Sanji’s.
You feel like you’re soaring for just a few short, blissful seconds, flying through the highest clouds and taking the pirates with you. They keep you lifted up and against them as you shudder and writhe in pleasure, riding out the hardest orgasm you’ve had in a year.
It makes you dizzy and your head goes completely blank. It takes every single ounce of energy out of you, so much so that you go limp when it fades. You lean your head against Zoro’s chest, suddenly exhausted.
At some point during your mind-blowing orgasm, you pass out. You don’t remember much about what happened after you had your second nut. But when you awaken, it is dawn and you find yourself still sandwiched between a sleeping, naked Zoro and Sanji. The swordsman has his muscular, scarred back to you while the love chef is pushed against your back, acting as the big spoon.
The morning sun peeks through the cave, turning the soft waves that crash against the shore a beautiful hue of gold. The sunlight illuminates off of your naked bodies, acting as a physical representation for afterglow: your arms, your faces, your legs…
Legs?
To your utter shock and joy, you look down to see that you no longer have a fish tail but your legs. Your beautiful, gorgeous, human legs. You sit up between the pirates and wiggle your toes just to see if you can do it. Your little piggies listen to your order, your toe bones wiggling about.
“Oh, my God!” You shout, unable to keep your happiness at bay.
Your shout alarms the pirates and they quickly awaken. Zoro immediately grabs a sword while Sanji panickingly looks around for danger, his blonde hair a sex-ruined mess. “What, what?!” He gasps. “What is it?!”
You take a moment to gather your words as tears begin to push past the dam of your eyes. “My legs!” You sob. You show the duo your legs, happily moving them around. “You broke the curse! It worked!”
Zoro gapes down at your legs, even gently stroking your skin from your thigh to your knee. Sanji breaks out into an astonished smile, his gray blue eyes wide with wonder. “My God,” he whispers. “It was real.” You nod, unable to keep yourself from sobbing with joy. You can’t believe it worked!
The swordsman looks pleased that everything worked out for you. “I guess our work here is done,” he says. “We should be leaving now.” To your confusion and shock, the two leave you sitting there and begin to get dressed. “Wait, you’re leaving?” You ask. “Right now?”
Zoro stares at you as if it should be obvious while he puts on his pants. “Well, yeah,” he says. “I mean, we gave you what you wanted, right? We’re not needed anymore.” He shrugs on his boots with the quickness, still having not put on his shirt. “But it was…really nice.” He clears his throat, awkwardly looking away from your naked form.
Sanji is quicker putting on his clothes, staring at you somberly. “Better than nice, ma chéri,” he sighs. “You were amazing. But our time here has come to pass. Our captain will be looking for us, so we should—“
“Don’t go!” you blurt, grabbing Sanji’s hand. The love chef looks taken aback at this. Zoro is too, looking at you with a startled expression. You’re just as taken aback at yourself and the sudden desperation you feel watching them go. Why do you feel this way? After all, you did tell them you could depart after you got your legs back.
And while you are happy to have your beautiful, human limbs back, you’re not happy to see the pirates go. They made you feel safer than you’ve felt your whole life. They accepted you, helped you at your darkest hour, fucked you stupid, and came inside of you without even knowing you. All to help you! How can you give them up?
You flush embarrassingly and release Sanji’s hand, instead using your arms to hug yourself, covering your naked breasts. “I-I mean…you don’t have to leave so soon. I really enjoyed your company, regardless of the sex.” You look at each other from under your lashes, bashful but honest. “I wouldn’t mind y’all stickin’ around for a bit.”
Zoro and Sanji stare at you in shock, obviously not expecting this proposal from you. Then their gazes soften, filling you with butterflies that nervously flap and flutter about. Before any one of them can respond, a sheer, loud scream coming from deep within the cave stops you:
“Zoro!” Luffy calls. “Sanji, are you in here?!”
Immediately, you crawl behind a rock, frightened. “We’re coming!” Sanji shouts. “Luffy, don’t move!” You hear other voices too, unfamiliar and scary to you. You haven’t been around other help in a year.
Zoro walks toward you and kneels with you behind the rock, his eye sparkling with mischief and gentleness. “I wouldn’t mind that either if you don’t mind our crew.”
He hands you over his shirt, holding it out for you. “But I will warn you: they’re annoying and unhinged, but you won’t find better people than them.” He gives you a crooked smile that makes you trust his words.
“You want me to join your crew?” You ask in disbelief. The swordsman passively shrugs, ever the emotionally constipated one. “If you want,” he bashfully asks. “I think Luffy will like you. He likes everybody…mostly.”
Sanji chuckles, kneeling beside you. “What do you say, darling?” He asks, a sparkle in his eyes. “You up for some more adventure?”
You take a moment to stare into the men’s eyes, seeing nothing but a generous nature that soothes your fears and leaves you feeling giddy, happy, and safe.
“Hell yes,” you giggle. You take Zoro’s shirt and put it on, feeling like you’re wearing a dress with how big it is on you. You then wrap your arms around both men’s necks and bring them in for a soft, thankful kiss. “Lead the way, boys,” you purr.
Joyfully, Zoro scoops you up into his arms while Sanji fusses about not being able to hold you, much to your humor, as you’re carried away to meet your new crew. Suddenly, the fog that the witch’s curse created is gone, leaving your present and your future looking brighter than ever.
And all because of that stupid ass song.
THE END.
#black fanfic writer#smutty smut#black coded reader#my fic shit#my one shots#one piece smut#sanji x black reader#zoro x reader#zoro x black reader#poly smut#poly love#mermay 2024#black writers#sanji vinsmoke#roronoa zoro
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Sonf #1: Never Love an Anchor
"On some level, I think I always understood That these hands of mine were clumsy, not clever"
Bdubs was quick to lose his lives, he died a lot and was the first member of his team to turn red (TWICE!!!)
"And I tried to do the best that I could But try as I might, I couldn't bring myself to hold you"
He gave so much to his team, his team tried everything they could to keep the only enchanting table free for the whole server to use. Bdubs traded one of his lives for the enchanter, casting him from green(3 lives) to yellow(2 lives), and his carelessness with his lives caused him to slip and fall to his death, forcing him to red granted, he got back to yellow when Etho traded the enchanter for Scar(The guy they try to keep the enchanter from) for Bdubs to be given a life- When Bdubs got back to yellow, Etho did kill scar cause Etho was the boogeyman so really they lost nothing And then like the next session or the one after he died again due to being killed by one of the boogeymen (The session was wild with 7 boogeymen, Bdubs and etho being ones)
"So, I did the only thing that I could And severed the rope to set you sailing from my harbor"
This one is looser, so due to the stricter red rules, whenever Bdubs went red he and Etho couldn't be friends and so they put a fence down the middle of their base. Bdubs attempted to reunite him and Etho multiple times by trying to kill Etho and trying to talk Etho into killing himself
"There are times when I still wonder about you You are someone I have loved, but never known"
From a story point of view, none of them truly get to know each other. They usually spend 6-9 weeks (limlife is the exception, being a while 24 hours to live, most people usually just consider that it happened in one day despite it being split up just like the rest of the seasons. I feel this is why most fics will have them return to their servers once the life series is over, but yk) if you take that and mix it with the fact that it's a "last one standing wins" Hunger Games thing, yk you can never really trust anyone
"And you'll never see the reasons I had For keeping my claws away when they were close enough to hurt you"
Whenever Bdubs had to kill someone, he never killed Etho- even if he killed an ally he never killed Etho he always went for someone else (Grian, Tango)
"I am selfish, I am broken, I am cruel I am all the things they might have said to you"
When Bdubs was red for maybe the 2nd or 3rd time (idk I don't remember it was his last time being red so idk) the fellow reds, who had teamed up tried together, to turn Bdubs against Etho by telling Bdubs Etho was truly an ally "He's a survivor" "He just teamed up with the next person"
"Do you ever think of me and my two hands? And wonder why they never soothed your fevers? And wonder why they never tied your shoes? And wonder why they never held you gently? And wonder why they never had the chance to lose you?"
Bdubs died before Etho Bdubs died calling out Etho's name Bdubs died running away from the reds after he killed Lizzie(a fellow red) for Etho cause Etho promised him a life if he killed a red
Song #2 The Moon Will Sing
"Tell me once again I could have been anyone, anyone else Before you made the choice for me My feet knew the path We walked in the dark, in the dark I never gave a single thought to where it might lead"
Bdubs was a follower, while he was the self-proclaimed leader of Team B.E.S.T., he was a follower, he followed Etho to the mountain where they built themselves a home, he followed Etho to multiple of his deaths (Never once at Etho's hands though), he followed Skizz and sacrificed the most for his cause (Heck, he even followed a commenter when it was pointed out that soul soil is better for him to use than soul sand)
"The moon will sing a song for me I loved you like the sun"
They are literally the Sun(Bdubs) x Moon(Etho) trope. Enough said.
"Name your courage now We could have had anything, anything else Instead, you hoarded all that's left of me" Swallowin' your doubt Like swords to the pit of my belly I want to feel the fire that you kept from me"
Bdubs made a deal with the remaining green and yellow lives, if he could kill a red life Etho (who was green, with a singular life to spare) would give him a life. (As said before) Bdubs killed Lizzie, but it ended in him getting killed himself.
Curses is just last life, the curse being the boogeyman curse, and/or the curse of loneliness when you turn red and are forced out of your home and away from your friends
Song #4 Little Soldiers
"On the broken backs of all the words we spared Like little soldiers in the trenches It was a march we made towards ruin and despair But we held hands all the while"
It's them vs. the world all I'm sayin
"I swear that I loved you I swear that I loved you I swear that I loved you I swear, I swear"
When Etho died, he said "Well, I didn't win it for Bdubs, but he didn't win it for me either. I'm joking. Love you Bdubs."
"I swear that you loved me I swear that you loved me I swear that you loved me I swear, I swear"
When Bdubs was red for maybe the 2nd or 3rd time (idk I don't remember it was his last time being red so idk) the fellow reds, who had teamed up tried together, to turn Bdubs against Etho by telling Bdubs Etho was truly an ally "He's a survivor" "He just teamed up with the next person"
Bdubs' response to this? "...He loves me."
"We didn't give up, we wouldn't dare surrender It was an honest loss Now the aftermath will ring with songs you've sung All of our words sent home in boxes I fought with tooth and nail before the flag had flown"
They all (not just ethubs or Team BEST) went fighting until the very end.
"But you were already gone"
Etho was going to give Bdubs a life, but Bdubs was already dead
Song #5 Allies or Enemies
"Now listen close You owe me ears for dropping eaves Forget it all You caught me in a moment weak"
Bdubs tried to convince Etho (and Skizz) to become red so they could be friends again. Well not exactly a "moment [of] weak[ness]" Etho was considering it and also Bdubs was desperate
Could also be when Bdubs was told Etho would give him a life if he killed a redname
"And sometimes I just can't help myself Sometimes I can't help myself at all"
"Are we allies or enemies? This will be the death of me This will be the death of me All is fair in love, and war But I can't fight with you anymore This will be the death of me"
Again, it just is them sorry its just them. Between Bdubs trying to convince Etho to literally kill himself so they could be red together, Etho genuinely considering the idea while being the boogeyman, then getting Bdubs a life- its just them
"What happens now? Do we have another go? (Oh) Do we bow out, and take our separate roads? (Oh) I'll admit I've had my doubts (oh) But I want to be let in, not out (oh) But I want to be let in, not out"
Dividing the house, Bdubs asking Etho to kill himself so they can be friends again, Bdubs asking for a life when he's told to kill a redname
Sond #6 Unraveling
"I once loved a gardener with his dirt-smudged face and hands Trimmed my weeds and gave me room to grow my flowers again"
Bdubs is commonly headcanon as this weird mossy guy, due to his skins (Outside of the life series since he turned red in Last Life) typically being related to moss, such as his moss cloak and moss overalls (THE FANART FOR THE OVERALLS IS SO GENDER LIKE OMG GIMMIE GIMMIE) and as such as ended up with multiple headcanons about Bdubs and gardening/Bdubs and flowers literally growing on his mossy clothes/literally on his head
"But now my love is gone And I am left here withering Withering"
So back to Last Life, Bdubs died before Etho. Leaving Etho to wither away the rest of his time in LL
"I once loved a carpenter who carved a smile for me Sanded my rough edges, crafted new and lovely things"
Bdubs is a builder, he is mostly known for his building skills Etho (mostly in fics) can come off as stand-off-ish specifically in the life series, but he is always comfortable around Bdubs (except when Bdubs is red, but also yk, red names)
"But now my love is gone And I can't help the fracturing"
Bdubs turns red, they split their base, Team Best fractures, their home fractures, yk how it is
"I never knew that I needed you"
They're so obsessed w/ each other, they always somehow find their ways back to each other
"I once loved a man who kissed me once before he left Tied me up in knots and said he'd soon return again"
Etho ending up leaving Bdubs, saying he'd give Bdubs a life if Bdubs killed a red name Or! Bdubs leaving Etho for the final time, on red life, filled with a promise that'd never be fulfilled. Swearing to Etho he'd be back and they could be together again
"But now love is gone And I am left unraveling"
But, Bdubs never returns. He kills another red name, yes, but he gets killed to avenge her. He never returns.
Honorable Mentions, both crane wives and not!
Pretty Little Things - The Crane Wives
Metaphor - The Crane Wives (This one is more 3rdLife/Watcher!Grian tho, but yk still)
I Was An Island - John-Allison Weiss
Running Up That Hill (A Deal With God) - Kate Bush
We Fell in Love in October - =boyalive (SPECIFICALLY THE BOYALIVE VERSION)
Strawberry Blond - Mitski
Francis Forever - Mitski
Last Words Of A Shooting Star - Mitski
Love Me Harder - Ariana Grande (YOU GOTT HEAR ME OUT ON THIS ONE)
Hidden In The Sand - Tally Hall
Battle Cry - The Family Crest
I have songs for flower husbands too xoxo
I… I let out a laugh when I saw how much there was. You are fucking dedicated huh. Proud of you :3
but yeah you’re totally in the right here like it just makes sense
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𝐩𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - lee felix
pairing: lee felix x gn!reader, lovertober entry vii
genre: non!idol au, fluff, royalty!au
wc: 5.9k
warnings: prince!felix, baker!reader, language,
a/n: idk if you can tell, but this one has a bit different of a writing style? this fic is a mini-experiment. tell me how you like it! also, sorry if the ending is rushed, i'm so busy right now and have like no time to write </3
growing up in a fucking castle, felix spent 99% of his life sheltered. he had a strict schedule, one that stuffed all royal training he needed into a day's work? it didn't matter if his muscles were sore from sword fighting and whatnot, it was the same routine, again and again and again.
felix always wished for more.
he knew he was extremely lucky, yes. not everybody is born into a prestigious noble line, and not everybody has a loving family to help them become the person they were destined to be. felix loved his parents and his brothers, but he always longed to see the world.
some days, his mind would drift off to another universe where he could travel the world as he wished. if it were under his control, felix would sail the seven seas. he'd walk along the pristine beaches, the sun kissing his tan skin and the waves lapping against his bare feet calmly. he'd stare with awe at the vibrant, rolling hills and meadows, the snowcapped mountains sprawling across the earth.
it would be such a beautiful sight, felix thought. to see the unrivaled beauty of mother nature at its very finest? he'd only ever seen those sights in his books, hastily scribbled in black ink to create a drab, monochrome image. disappointing.
he never brought these desires up to his parents, of course. he knew he'd be shot down immediately, and he didn't want to seem petulant one bit. but his eldest brother chris, the crown prince, would tell him stories of when he studied abroad.
"it was beautiful, lix! the mountains are so peaceful at night. you can see every star in the sky shining back down at you! the moon is much prettier there than it is from the window of our home. it isn't blocked by anything at all. it's sacred and pristine." chris had said, his warm brown eyes bright and starry.
every single time from that day onwards, whenever felix stared at the moon from his bedroom window, he felt some sense of irritation. what was so special about the moon that it had chris gallivanting off to gaze at it every time it was full? it was just some big fat sphere that glowed. nothing special.
felix decided to find out what the big deal was, as well as explore the kingdom his brother would rule, so he began sneaking out. the first time he successfully did it, he was eleven years old.
his parents had been on some diplomatic trip and his brothers were tasked on watching him. of course, they had other things to do and didn't give two shits that they had to watch their little brother, giving felix the perfect escape route. don't worry, he left a note. it was small and neat. it read:
"the lands outside of this walled city sound very pretty. i'm going to go see them. be back by midnight. - lix♡"
he certainly was eloquent for an eleven year-old. it was probably his noble genes. once he snuck out, he effortlessly navigated the twists and turns of the cobblestone roads. felix slipped out of a small hole in the wall, and was absolutely taken aback by the view in front of him.
there was beautiful green grass, bright and fresh, littered with various types of flowers. all of them were blooming beautifully, the sun's rays reflecting off of them. the hills sloped down to meet at a wide lake with pristine blue waters. as he carefully made his way down, he noticed something peculiar.
someone his age was sitting at the shore of the lake, dipping their small toes into the cool water. he couldn't make out their features from a distance at all. once he got closer, however, he could very clearly make out the appearance of the mystery child.
they were around his age, he determined. and...they were beautiful.
felix knew beauty, yes. his mother was revered as the most beautiful maiden in the kingdom, and she was very humble about it, regardless of her lovely physique and warm eyes.
"remember this, honey." she'd whispered one night, tucking him under the covers in his enormous bed. this was one job she never let the maids do. until the end of time, she'd care for her sons. "true beauty does not just apply to whether or not society thinks someone fits their messed-up standards. true beauty is confidence and self-love, expressing yourself whether it's natural or enhanced by makeup. find someone who radiates the aura of venus herself, and then you can call them truly beautiful."
"but mother," felix began. "venus is merely a cheap copy of aphrodite, and you're our generation's aphrodite! that right there is substantial proof that nobody can outdo you."
felix's mother laughed, an angelic sound leaving her lips.
"no, my boy. you're actually quite wrong there. venus is ethereally special in her own way, she is no cheap copy! when you see an armless statue, you don't think of aphrodite, no, you think of the venus de milo. and the birth of venus? the iconic picture of her standing in all her glory upon that shell? they may be similar goddesses of love and beauty, but they are very different. if you do think of me as aphrodite, which is a lovely compliment, might i add, i guess you'll search for someone like me. however, when you find your venus, keep them for life."
those words appeared in the back of his temporal lobe the first time he saw the little one by the lake.
"hi," he breathed as he sat down beside them. they looked up at him, eyes wide.
"i....know you from somewhere. where do i know you?" they murmured, blinking a few times. "are you a celebrity?"
felix laughed. they were so sweet and funny. their voice was gentle, soft-spoken.
"no...i don't know how you must've seen me....i don't go out much." he decided it'd be best to lie. "and i'm from another country..."
the child laughed heartily, the first remotely loud sound to escape their lips.
"for a foreigner, you're so sweet and kind. we should be friends...what's your name?"
felix kept up his ruse.
"let's use code names! i'll be apollo, cause he's the god of the sun and he's super cool, and you can be venus, cause you're super pretty." he suggested, and their eyes lit up.
"oooh, okay!"
hours and hours passed as felix and his new friend played in the water and upon the fertile land. eventually, the sun began to dip solemnly below the mountain peaks. felix's friend pouted as they realized the time.
"awww...i have to go. my mom and dad are gonna be worried if i'm home too late. will i ever see you again?" they fiddled with the scrap of newspaper hastily tied around their finger, a paper ring to symbolize their friendship with felix, who had an identical one on his ring finger.
"i don't know, i live pretty far away." felix sighed. he knew if the aides told his parents of this adventure of his, he'd be locked away forever. however, the gears in his head started turning, and his eyes soon lit up. "i have an idea! we can be pen pals! we can send each other letters as we grow up together, even though we're apart."
"that sounds so good! you're so smart, apollo." they cooed, leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek. "there. it's sealed. that's how my family seals unbreakable promises, anyways."
the way felix looked in the fading rays of light would be burned into their memory as he smiled and dreamy words escaped his lips.
"i swear on my life i'm going to marry you someday. i promise i will."
twelve years passed.
felix stared at himself in the mirror. he'd grown into a fine young man in his eyes. his hair was bleached to a sandy blonde now, wispy and soft in a mullet of some sorts. his eyes were still a deep, soulful brown, though. they still held all kinds of secrets and promises in them. his freckles were just as visible as ever.
every single week for the past decade, felix wrote venus a letter. sometimes, he slipped little presents into the envelopes. it wasn't stupid at all to him, that he was quite enamored over a person he'd met once, because as time went on and he got older, his feelings and emotions developed and matured.
when they were sixteen, venus confessed that they'd developed real feelings and since he had too, he'd accepted their love graciously. now, he eagerly awaited the day he had absolutely no grueling work from his mother or brothers so that he could write.
felix ran up the stairs once lunch with his family ended, his mother, the dowager queen, exasperatedly calling out after him.
"young man, you're twenty-three now! show some etiquette, damn it!" she sighed, eliciting a laugh from chris. ever since the unfortunate passing of their father when the brothers were younger, chris had officially been crowned king. he was benevolent and wise beyond his years, gracing the throne with his brilliant ideas.
the second eldest, minho, was an ingenious and astute strategist with a knack for swordfighting. not only that, he was fawned over by so many of the country's citizens for his dark, mysterious air. (quite frankly, it was all a complex ruse. show minho a cat and he turns into the epitome of a sweetheart.)
because felix was the youngest, he often felt unvalued as opposed to his talented brothers. however, he soon learned that what he lacked in strategy and decision-making council skills, he made up for in generosity, kindness, and beauty. he had inherited his mother's looks and his father's personality, making him the kingdom's golden boy. he was essentially the face of the royal family. when chris' advisors realized this, they deduced that they could take advantage of it.
"prince felix is beloved everywhere he goes! why not give him free rein to travel where he wants?"
felix was rather ecstatic at the news. would he finally see venus again?! however, he came to one puzzling conclusion. he didn't exactly know venus' address or anything. there was a special messenger that delivered messages between them. felix had been paying him handsomely for his services and silence for years. so his mission was to search as if venus was cinderella herself and he held the glass slipper. the letters would be the key to solving this mystery.
he sat down at his desk, pulling out a neat piece of stationary paper and getting to work. he adorned it with cutesy stickers that he knew they loved, and began writing about his week.
"dear venus,
i had a rather uneventful week. i was kept busy, restricting me from sending messages to you. it wounded me. (figuratively, of course) god, the things i would do to feel your lips on mine just once. to kiss you until you can't think of anything else except my name. not apollo, my real birth name. i'd much rather have you adoringly murmur that with your alluring lips. i know, i know. there are barriers between us that i would much rather spend my life trying to take down. but i've been praying to the deities above a lot more recently. i'm praying we meet by chance once more, so i can marry you for real this time. my apologies that my letter is extremely short this week. i'll try to make it longer next time.
all my love and devotion,
apollo."
smiling softly, he pulled a pressed rose from his desk and slipped it into a cream-colored envelope. he then inconspicuously made his way out of his luxurious home to a small, lesser-known postal office on the east side of the capital city.
when he slipped inside, he was greeted with bows and warm welcomes.
"your royal highness," a young woman said, inclining her head kindly. "what do you need?"
felix's lips curled upwards into a charming smile, the woman almost instantly turning into a stuttering mess at the sight of it. she shoved all of the customers out of the shop with a quick "sorry!"
"i need to see changbin."
at the sound of his name, a well-built, muscular man peeked out of the back.
"hi, felix!" he beamed, giving the smaller man a hug. changbin was a longtime friend of felix's. he didn't hold a job at the postal service, he worked as a knight for the royal family, but his sister owned the place and they lived right above it together. since he was incredibly loyal to felix especially, he was the perfect secret messenger for felix and venus. changbin had never seen the mysterious venus, either. all he knew was what postal service in the city to hand it off to. "another letter to your love?"
"shut up." felix said, groaning with mock irritation. "but yeah. i wasn't able to send a message to venus any earlier, so now is the time. can i trust you with this?"
changbin places a saintly hand to his toned chest theatrically.
"of course you can. it'll get to venus in no time."
"great!" felix grinned. he wanted to crush changbin into a bear hug as thanks, but he knew because he was nobility, he had to push down his urges of physical touch. "now, i must be going. i have somewhere i need to be."
your day was nothing short of routinely.
you'd wake up mid-morning and eat breakfast before getting ready for the day. you'd visit the markets for new ingredients and tools and whatnot. and then, the store opened and you got to work.
being the most accomplished and popular bakery in the capital, so much that the royal family shopped there, was an achievement for the record books. you had a reputation to uphold.
at 9:00am, after the periods of time you'd set aside for your shopping and personal hygiene, prep began. you'd make batter, frost cakes and cupcakes, intricately decorate cookies, and put the finishing touches on the pastries. it was grueling, but it was worth it to be doing something you loved.
at 9:30am, your only co-worker, your obnoxious and admittedly amazing cousin named seungmin, came in. as always, he was still yawning and muttering about how he could've been doing anything other than work. you playfully reminded him that it was his choice to work here, and he rolled his eyes while not-so-inconspicuously taste-testing a few of the pre-made delicacies.
"the beignets are much too large." seungmin mused, standing beside you as you artfully doused them in a snowy layer of confectioner's sugar. your hands moved nimbly as you lined them on trays to place neatly inside the glass display cases. at seungmin's words, you frowned.
"what do you mean? they're a perfect size, the customers will be full in no time." you shot back, crouching to slide them into their temporary resting place.
"that's exactly the problem! if you make them smaller, the customers will buy more to fill themselves up. it's a genius marketing plan." you rolled your eyes at his comment, patting him on the shoulder.
"i get that, but we're already pretty well off, minnie. plus, i'm not selling them just for money. this business is to sell delicious treats baked with love, not greed." you reminded him. he sighed, knowing you were right.
at 10:00am, the bakery opened, customers flooding in.
it was always very busy in the mornings, being so critically acclaimed by the public. you were used to being asked all kinds of nonsensical questions by customers of all ages. it was a whirlwind that you loved, and seungmin was so good at customer service, as much as he whined.
at 1:00pm, three hours later, a distinguished guest arrived.
it was the youngest prince of the royal family, felix himself. your cheeks felt warm as he entered in all his glory, surrounded by aides preactically falling over themselves just to assist them. with that beautiful smile of his, he politely asked all but one to wait outside.
"yn, my favorite baker in this country. i hope you're having a lovely day today." he smiled.
"your highness!" you exclaimed, allowing yourself to politely greet him. "what may i get for you? i'm afraid we're running low on fruit tarts, but anything else is completely in stock."
"hmm..." felix mused, trailing a slender yet small finger along the cool glass of the display case. he paused. "i'm afraid my mind is crapping out on me, i can't seem to decide. it all looks absolutely mouthwatering. do you have any recommendations?"
"well, i shared a lemon meringue pie i made with my cousin a few days ago, and it was heavenly, so that's definitely one. i'd also recommend the brownies."
felix tilted his head, a puzzled look upon his pixie-like facial features.
"a...brownie? i apologize, we don't really have those in the caste us nobles reside in. what's in them? i'd assume, erm, chocolate?"
you smiled sweetly. you were about to change his life.
"it's a delicious chocolate confection that's simultaneously cakey and fudgey. i recommend it to you wholeheartedly." you told him to wait patiently for a second or two before slipping into the back to grab a fresh brownie from a cooling rack. placing it carefully onto a small porcelain plate, you brought it back out to the prince. "here, try it."
the room was silent, and the only things you could smell were felix's incredibly strong cologne and the baked goods around you. you watched intently.
cautiously, felix bit into the brownie, expecting it to be tough for the firm feel of the exterior. however, his eyes widened once he tasted the chocolate delight upon his tongue.
"oh my god. how is this so good? you've made it heavenly, yn." his eyes were sparkling with excitement. "i beg of you, you must make more of these! see, it's my brother minho's birthday soon, and we were looking for desserts to bake. please, you have to make some treats for us...wait. i'm the prince of this country, and as your prince, i commend your culinary talents. please, i implore you to come and work an evening or two for us. you'll be rewarded handsomely."
you waited a moment or two, allowing yourself to think his offer through. a little extra money from catering never hurt...
"deal! just have a messenger let me know the details of where and when. thank you so much for granting me this opportunity. i'm excited to do this!" you shook his hand, gasping slightly when you felt the warmth emanating from it. he chuckled in that beautifully rich voice of his. before you could even think anything at all, you felt blood rush to your cheeks.
"i'll order a dozen of those brownies and a key lime pie for my mother, you know how she loves those. and here." out of his pocket, he pulled a handsome wad of paper cash. "i'll pay a little extra. you deserve it."
"you are too kind, your highness." you murmured, taking the money into your hands and staring at it in wonder. "whoever you settle down with will be very, very lucky." your heart filled with longing of your own at your words, but you shook it off.
surprisingly, felix's face fell a bit as well, but it was for a millisecond before his sweet, beaming smile was plastered across his face once more. how odd.
he waved goodbye and left not long after, and seungmin dashed out of the pantry (where he'd been quite conspicuously eavesdropping) and flipped the sign on the door over to say "closed". he eagerly grabbed your hands.
"we are going to be soooo rich! do you know what this means?" seungmin exclaimed, but you were hardly paying attention. it was probably 1:30pm or 1:45pm, meaning the postal service would be coming around. while he was rambling on and on about what he was planning to do with the money, you kept your eyes on what was going on outside the window, searching for a certain dark-haired man wearing a navy uniform. and like clockwork, every week, he showed up at the door, knocking. you practically shoved seungmin out of the way to get to it.
the middle-aged man with kind green eyes gave you a jolly grin as he fished through his leather bag for a cream-colored envelope, the name so foreign yet so familiar signed in calligraphy. "i believe this is yours, my dear." he pressed it into your hands before moving on to the next building.
seungmin raised an eyebrow at you as you slipped the letter into your back pocket.
"and what might that little thing be?" seungmin teased you mercilessly every single time the mailman came, but he didn't have a clue what was really inside the envelope. but he didn't continue to dig once you shot him a look.
you quickly made your way up to your bedroom, where you dove into bed so you could open the envelope and pull out the crisp paper inside. reading apollo's sweet words to you made you want to giggle and roll around, hugging the letter tightly to your chest, but you wanted to reply as soon as possible.
sliding into the seat at your desk, you began drafting a response.
"my dearest apollo,
i too am disappointed for our shortened conversations these few weeks. you're certainly busy, aren't you? unfortunately, i'm about to get much busier as well, so i may struggle in responding too.
your words are filled with so much passion in them i cannot help but feel so desired whenever i read your letters...i wish that i had the ability to love you truly, for my lips to travel the expanse of a body i only saw once in a blue moon. you enchant and enthrall me every single day.
i pray for your utmost health and wellbeing, my love. our lives are picking up and we have to distance ourselves because of it? i truly hope we are not like parallel lines. i need you, apollo. a piece of my spirit resides within you.
i was thinking about us settling down together one day earlier. i hope we meet again, okay? stay safe. i love you endlessly, to the moon and to saturn.
eternally yours,
venus."
the next week, you arrived at the royal castle. it's architecture was exquisite. everything about it screamed nobility and an entire look at me, look at me, i'm rich aura. you were honestly intimidated. how would you navigate it? thankfully, one of the aides dutifully led you to the enormous kitchen we're you'd be operating from.
it had the newest and most high-end equipment, not to mention it boasted numerous ovens that were good quality and cooked fast. it was clean and well-organized. after placing your things down, you decided your next step of action was to go to the market and collect some necessities you didn't bring.
coincidentally, you bumped into felix on the way out.
"where are you going?" he'd asked politely, placing a soft hand on your shoulder to steady himself. he was wearing dark pants and a white linen shirt, an outfit that looked lovely on him. although you'd never admit that out loud. you loved apollo, not some prince you hardly knew...who was incredibly endearing and funny...ugh!
"just down to the market, it's nothing much." you stammered, trying to form coherent words. the face he was making, of interest and peace, made you want to rip your hair out.
"that sounds very nice, yn. may i join you? i've been itching to get out of my home for a bit." he replied carelessly, and you were astounded. why would he ever want to leave a place as grandiose as this? when he saw your expression, he was quick to explain. almost as if he'd read your mind. "don't get me wrong, i'm absolutely blessed to be waking up in a palace like this, but i've been stuck inside it my whole live. as a kid, i almost never was allowed to leave. so now that i have all this freedom, i'm taking advantage of it, yeah?"
that did make more sense, you concluded. and plus, a little company never hurt…
now, you were awkwardly standing beside actual real life nobility as you shopped for flour. fucking flour. the worker's mouth was gaping open (which was actually really funny), stumbling over his words left and right. as of right now, he was begging for felix to take the goods for free.
hm. you could get used to this.
felix's heart was cracking more and more each passing day. standing beside someone as ethereal as you was divine. he'd known you for a year or two, with various meetings and many words exchanged. he felt like he was falling for you.
but he didn't want to hurt venus, still waiting everyday for him to send a letter proposing. a love like his and venus' was embarrassingly finite, he realized. his mother had found his stash of letters, and with a sigh, she'd looked him in the eyes and said words that skewered felix's heart.
"lix, look at me. i love you, and will support you in anything you do. but this isn't going anywhere, dear. you can't marry some kid you met once twelve years ago. think rationally."
so he was looking back at his options, and reevaluating them.
after a strenuous day of shopping and prepping all kinds of baked goods, you clocked out and decided to go on a walk to clear your head. slipping out of a small door on the outskirts of the city, you jogged for a little while until your place of solace arrived on the horizon.
it was the lake you'd visited ever since you were small, the lake where you'd met apollo for the first time. its blue tourmaline waters lapped against the rocky shoreline languidly, a beautiful contrast to the array of wildflowers on the surrounding hills. you took off your shoes once you reached the bottom, your feet comfortable against the smooth stones. you dipped a cautious toe into the water before putting both feet in.
you were ecstatic for the day you'd see apollo waiting for you by it, his ebony hair wavy and well-styled, a loving smile upon his face. perhaps you'd even get married here....
you shook off that thought. it would never happen anytime soon, because your lover was hundreds of miles away and there was nothing you could do about it.
"what a lovely coincidence." felix said from behind you, surprise painted delicately across his features. "i didn't think anyone ever came here. may i...join you?"
you nodded, scooting over a little bit so that he could sit beside you.
"i used to come here all the time as a little kid." you reminisced, laughing softly. "i'd play in the water, lie in the fields...you know."
felix nodded.
"i've been here once or twice when i was younger, but today, i just felt like it. i don't know, there was some string pulling me to it." he murmured.
and you sat there with him in silence, neither person wanting to break the tranquility of the scene. you were starting to lose yourself by staring at him. it was getting harder to stay faithful to apollo, the love of your life who was only ink on parchment when this fallen angel was right in front of you.
felix noticed you staring, and leaned in to teasingly stare back. however, something changed in his expression as his eyes fell to your lips. and before you knew it, he'd kissed you.
it was like asking a question, soft and sweet, waiting for you to decide whether or not you wanted it. and you fell whim to it in the blink of an eye, your hand shakily moving to rest upon his shoulder.
and then, it hit you.
what the hell were you doing? this was a prince, and you loved apollo.
you pulled away, embarrassment written all over your face. you didn't want to look at him. you didn't want to see the confusion and hurt upon his fairy-like features.
"is everything okay?" he asked. "did i do something wrong?"
you shook your head frantically.
"no, of course not! it's just that i've gotten way too ahead of myself. i'm so sorry. i should get going, have a great night." you dashed off, hiding your face in your hands.
everything fell apart after that.
a day or two later, you received a letter from apollo that you'd been dreading since you were making rings out of newspaper scraps as a kid.
"venus, the light of my life, the stars in my sky,
it is with a heavy heart that i must deliver these news to you. for twelve years, i have loved you with everything i have and feel, but our time must come to an end. my mother wants me wed and because you have remained anonymous time and time again, i am afraid i cannot envision a future with you.
i really got to know someone close to me, and now i want them to love me like i've loved you my entire life, forever and evermore. please, i beg of you, i wish we have no hard feelings between us and we may remain friends for a very long time. that's what we were before we were lovers, after all.
i will always look back on our memories with utmost fondness for you. have a lovely life, my dear. i hope you find someone who makes you happy.
all my love,
apollo"
you sobbed into your pillow. night after night. it was affecting you at work, too. losing someone you loved eternally hurt. did he somehow know about your kiss with the prince? that couldn't be possible. you shook it off, rubbing the dark circles under your eyes.
however, felix began visiting you a lot more, one thing that was making your day better bit by bit. sometimes he'd bring little gifts, like a flower or some trinket he said "reminded him of you". and with each loving present, you felt more butterflies appear in your stomach.
you didn't want to move on so quickly, but it was some sort of coping mechanism while you were reeling from apollo's betrayal.
day by day, things got easier, and you got closer with felix. you were something more than "friends" now, but you felt an aching pang in your chest every time felix was remotely kind to you.
you were eating dinner with felix one starry night, wearing nice clothes you'd never even dreamed of being tangible when he cleared his throat.
"um, yn...i have a question." he asked awkwardly, and you tilted your head in confusion. "how do you deal with...ending things with someone you really care about?"
you wanted to sob. how ironic that he asked you that.
"it's really hard. you tell yourself you're fine, that what's past is past, but then the littlest things tick you off and you want to scream and cry. it's hard to explain, but you never really get over them."
he shook his head, sighing.
"i get it. see, i love that i'm getting to know you, but i'm still hung up on my first love. my mother told me that a relationship with them was going nowhere...since we were simply pen pals and nothing more...i wanted to say all these horrid things to her but i couldn't and you were already making my feelings all askew. so...yeah. look, i truly care about you, i really do...but-" you didn't need to hear anymore.
"was your pen pal named...venus, by any chance? and when you sent them messages, were you under the pseudonym of apollo?" you asked quietly, praying that you were right. if not, you were about to make a huge fool out of yourself.
felix's face paled.
"how do you know about that? did changbin say something to you?" he asked frantically. the tears began flooding from your eyes as you wept with happiness. you were ashamed of your oblivious eyes, but now, you knew apollo's identity and everything was going to be okay. "what?! did i say something to make you sad? i'm so sorry..."
"no, no...it's just that...i'm venus. i'm the one you've been writing to all these years." felix's jaw dropped. "if you don't believe me, i can lead you myself to my bedroom and show you the stacks of letters, each and every one. your latest one, to the first one you sent as a little boy. and...i guess since i'm not anonymous anymore, you can marry me..."
felix wrapped you in his arms tightly, beginning to cry tears of absolute joy.
"i'm so sorry i ever thought about leaving you for well, yourself? but this was such a stroke of fucking luck. looking at you now, you really do embody the name venus. you're so stunning..." you wiped his tears with the back of your hand, capturing his lips in a loving, intimate kiss twelve years in the making.
you had been waiting your entire life for this day.
beautiful arches and tables were set up by the clear blue lake, tents looming over ecstatic guests. you took a deep breath, looking in the mirror at yourself. you were wearing shades of white in a beautifully intricate outfit that probably cost more than your entire house. seungmin stood beside you, smiling mischievously.
"who knew you were out gallivanting with a prince? what really was in those letters? was he like- trying to seduce you in noble terms?" you rolled your eyes, gifting seungmin with a playful jab to the shoulder. he yelped. "you can't accost me like that! what would the royal family say?"
you smiled, and the melodious sound of an orchestra beginning to play the wedding march signaled your cue to begin walking. seungmin was your closest family, so it was only natural he was to be the one who gave you away.
as you walked down the flower-littered aisle, your arm tightly around seungmin's, you couldn't help but feel a little misty-eyed. but seeing your prince standing at the altar, a flower the color of blue tourmaline tucked into his lapel, you knew that the road ahead of you was going to be somewhat smoother.
"you're absolutely gorgeous, you know that?" he'd whispered into your ear once you reached where he stood. "so damn perfect. i'm absolutely blessed to call you my own."
once the ring-bearer arrived as well, holding two lovely matching rings, you slipped felix's ring onto his finger with shaky hands at the same time as he slid yours on. he tutted, reaching into his pocket.
"one more thing before we truly do this." he said with delight, pulling out of his pocket two paper rings made of newspapers. they were yellowed with age, and crinkled but in a great condition. "it might not fit you now that you're all grown up, but it might be nice to keep."
maybe miracles really could happen, after all.
taglist: @darkypooo , @hyunbae-35 , @kpopmenace143 , @stateofdelicategrace , @elizaschuyler18 , @lillithathecat , @imastraykidsfan , @nightimescapes , @mal-lunar-28
@evermourning, ©2023. all rights reserved.
#ren writes!! <3#evermourning#stray kids#skz#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#lee felix#felix skz#lee yongbok#yongbok skz#felix x reader#yongbok x reader#lovertober <3
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Angsty Izzy/Blackhands song analysis
Okay so I can’t stop crying about “The Moon Will Sing” by The Crane Wives as the perfect angsty Izzy/Blackhands song. The vibe is just perfect for melancholy heartbreak and dreaming about what could’ve been, okay?? Just stick with me.
The opening lyrics are literally:
Tell me once again
I could’ve been anyone, anyone else
Before you made the choice for me.
Okay so Izzy is an extremely capable, intelligent, and skilled guy right?? He totally has what it takes to be the captain of his own ship or own a business like Jackie, but he doesn’t, he stays on as First Mate because he’s devoted himself and his life to Ed. I’m picturing that Ed “made the choice” the moment he made Izzy his first mate, or (because it’s one of my favourite headcanons) gave him the ring he always wears. Ed, by giving him this position and this privilege essentially made the choice for him, what other choice could Izzy have but to accept it and with it, Ed’s love and trust?
Alright, next line:
My feet knew the path
We walked in the dark, in the dark
I never gave a single thought to where it might lead.
Izzy has placed all his trust in Ed, in Blackbeard and his genius and rage. Even when things were going downhill, Ed grew bored and wild and unpredictable, Izzy still had trust in that Ed would know what to do and he most certainly never entertained the thought of leaving or that it could all end badly (at least until Stede showed up).
Okay now the chorus, which I have been scream-singing for the past few days because it is literally so PERFECT:
The moon will sing a song for me
I loved you like the sun
Bore the shadows that you made
With no light of my own
I shine only with the light you gave me
I shine only with the light you gave me.
Without Ed, without Blackbeard, there is no Izzy Hands. He’s Blackbeard’s right hand, trusted by the most vicious pirate to sail the ocean. He does Blackbeard’s bidding and it’s his job (and to him, his whole point of existing) to keep him content. But what of Izzy himself? We know very little about him outside of Ed, he’s a skilled swordsman (formal training maybe?), but we know he puts that skill to use in Blackbeard’s service. Other than that, his entire life has revolved around his role in Ed’s. And when Ed stops giving him his attention, his love, he has nothing. He shines only with the light Ed gives him, and he’ll do absolutely anything to keep it. Blackbeard is the big bad pirate that everybody knows, he’s the sun, and Izzy’s the moon, always there even when the sun is down, reflecting its light to keep Blackbeard’s legacy and image up when Ed is out of commission.
Alright that’s my 10-minute iPhone notes app English major analysis because I can’t stop thinking about it and I may or may not write a fic but who knows?? Anyway, love seeing all the S2 hype, absolutely can’t wait for it!!!
#ofmd#our flag means death#izzy hands#edward teach#blackhands#song analysis#angsty#rambles because I can't stop thinking about these men#edizzy
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i'm pretty much not going to be able to work on this fic with any serious attention until I get back from London but please enjoy this passage from my SWBB piece that *I* enjoy a lot 8') happy wip wednesday!!!
+++
Luke opens his mouth to protest but the Inquisitor’s eyes land on him and his voice dies.
There’s no recognition there. The scars on the Inquisitor’s cheek look painted on, like they found someone who looks like Ezra but isn’t him. There’s not even the animosity that the Apprentice first shot in his direction.
There is simply nothing.
The guard advances a second step and now the crackling electrified tips of the staffs hover threateningly over the Inquisitor’s vitals.
He leans forward on the balls of his feet, as if daring them to strike him and risk whatever wrath might result. But then he extinguishes his blade and clips it to his belt. The Inquisitor holds up his hands in surrender.
Luke watches his face for any sign of the familiar smirk, the looseness of movement saying it was just a joke. But it never comes, and the stranger wearing Ezra’s face is led away.
Vader lurks a half-step behind him, his respirator the only sound in the cavernous space. “Come,” he intones. “It is time.”
There is a sharp spike in his chest behind his lungs — his heart seizing and his breath hitching as the anger finally catches the spark. “What did you do to him?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper.
A breath in. A breath out. “Nothing that wasn’t already in his heart.”
Luke’s lightsaber is in his hand in an instant and he whirls on Vader with a cry, green blade sparking to life.
#fic: where the sun sails and the moon walks#a lil miss fic#pspspsps come get a hint of the boys#a smidgen of skybriger#lil miss writings#there won't be any writing done while i'm on vacation#maybe i'll be able to finish this chapter before i go i am VERY close#then i'll just have two chapters and the epilogue
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KICKS DOWN YOUR DOORS HOOTIN AND HOLLERIN LOOK AT THEMMMMM 🥰🥰🥰🥰
This year for the @swbigbang I got to do art for @littleladymab 's fic Where the Sun Sails and the Moon Walks. This piece is for chapter 5, and there will be two more pieces coming. It is an absolutely fantastic fic, and a true treat to draw for. please go check it out!
#star wars#fic: where the sun sails and the moon walks#cute artist frands#i love the siblings being siblings so much ooughhhh
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desert rose — yang jeongin.
↪ “ Because love and a red rose could never be truly hid. ”
— “ You’d have never thought that one incident would’ve enlightened you of how much in love you were with your childhood best friend, but it turns out to be more of a problem when you’re threatened with a life-ending disease with no cure whatsoever. Or so you thought. ”
pairing: jeongin x reader
genre: hanahaki au; fluff, angst with a happy ending.
⇥ warnings: hanahaki disease, mentions of blood (not very graphic but enough that it’s tagged), lots of angst, also in this world the hanahaki surgery isn’t discovered yet, because it’s a fairly recent discovery, also y/n’s dad is nowhere mentioned in this fic idk take it as you like but i imagined him to pass away when y/n was 12 for some reason :((, please do not read if you triggered by topics of death or blood or disease! These themes will be prevalent though not in super explicit detail, they are still there. If I missed a warning, let me know. <3
word count: 11.09 K
type: long one-shot.
⇥ disclaimer: this fiction does not represent the activities of the real Yang Jeongin, nor is associated with JYPE in any form. Events are pure fiction. ♡
part of: the @bystay skznta event, written for @stayndays !!
song: inspired from Desert Rose by Lolo Zouaï <3 No relation to the fic but it did inspire the ~vibes~.
↯ note: I’m gonna be honest this tired me out so much that I’m glad I finished it, it took me longer than I expected and it got longer than I expected, but nonetheless, here you go shayna! Hi!! It’s me! Your secret santa! Sorry I couldn’t send you that many asks because my uni is a bitch™, and I wish I could’ve made this better, but I guess this will have to do for now. I hope you like it, and I loved being your santa! 🥺 I hope we can interact more in the future, and this isn’t edited so pls go easy on me (>人<;)eiury2y4er okay happy reading! <3 love you shayna! <3 I wish I could give this more editing time :( but... i hope u still like it! ⇥ dawn.☀️
Jeongin’s eyes are really pretty.
The first time you'd made this miniscule observation was during your summer vacation road trip when the sun shined a tad bit overly bright, and Jeongin’s umbrella had a hole in it. The exact details of how it ended up torn don’t matter, but the way Jeongin’s eyes seemed to shimmer in the harsh noon sun almost made it seem worth it.
You remember it clearly — He’d smiled brightly when his eyes met yours, eyes crinkling into tiny little half-moons before his expression turned neutral. At that moment, you were lost into the abyss that was his midnight black orbs. They seemed to hold glimmering stars in them, ones that outshone the specks of white in the night sky.
Looking back, you didn’t think of it much, opting to shake your head off it’s daze before running to where Jeongin stood, throwing a bottle of water into his backpack and laughing at some corny jokes the rest of the group cracked.
Jeongin was a friend — a good friend. In fact, you could call him your best friend, though it had never been verbalized. You couldn’t remember exactly when or how you’d gotten closer to him — it just happened, like everything important in this world did. Like how Jeongin says “It was fate, Y/N, fate” in that old-man-philosopher voice to get you to laugh (Of course it would never work, but you’d still laugh, because anything to see him give you that bright, toothy grin and that little scrunch of his nose in acknowledgement).
The memory of how it all started is as clear as the sky, as pure as the pigment of a rose.
“Don’t stray too far away, alright? Meet me back here in two hours.” The instructor screams, and all the students chime in with a collective “Yes, ma’am!”.
“Good, now go collect your flowers.”
A flower-picking expedition isn’t a common event in a school field trip, at least in your school. You’re more used to the normal visits to the ice cream factory, or the butterfly park (which, to be fair, had some pretty flowers, if only you could pick them) or another affiliated school. Nevertheless, you don’t complain, because the prospect of your school giving you a chance to collect all the pretty flowers you could spot here had you on top of the clouds.
You’re allowed to go alone or in groups of two, and of course, Jeongin has you by the arm the moment your teacher had screamed “Disperse!” at the top of her lungs (P.E teachers had a thing for screaming, apparently). Ignoring the teasing glances the other boys made towards the both of you, you set sail on your path, scanning all the bushes for any wild and unique flowers you could find.
“Oh look, there’s one!” You pointed out after a good four-minute-walk, almost stumbling in your one-inch-too-tight-shoes and ignoring Jeongin’s giggle at your antics. You beckoned him over to where you were standing and he obliged, tucking his sweater paws into his pockets before walking over to where you were staring at the pretty flower.
So, flowers. They’d always fascinated you. You’d developed said fascination ever since you were six. Something about the sheer way the petals were arranged, the various ranges of coloring — vivid, gradient, muted — the beauty of something so delicate and intricate always drew you in. You found yourself examining a flower for hours, and surprisingly, you never grew tired of it. They’d helped you through a lot when you felt particularly down, too. Perfect distraction — snuggling against Jeongin’s arm and playing with the flower he’d always pick out for every visit, surrounded by calming; almost numbing silence along with the sound of his steady breathing, maybe sometimes his heartbeat too when he’d get overly affectionate. Flowers in a way, in every way, were your escape. You loved them.
“Hmmm.” Jeongin hummed over the sounds of the leaves susurrating and rustling on the ground, the wind enveloping you like a cold, yet oddly comfortable blanket. He fixed his round glasses over his nose, quickly flipping through his encyclopedia. No one really questioned him as to why he carried it wherever he went — but just like you, he had a vivid fascination for flowers too. It was something the both of you fit like a glove on, and you were beyond grateful to meet someone who could click with you so well.
“This is wolfsbane, we can’t pick it.” He said, shaking his head. “It’s poisonous, the whole plant is.”
“Oh…” You pouted, staring at the flower once more. You took in the sight of lush, violet petals, the way they wrapped around the centre and had almost no smell.
“Hey.” He touched your hand worriedly. “You didn’t touch them, right?”
“No, I didn’t. I know better than to touch plants without knowing what they are.”
“Good.” There you could see it again. That lovely, bright smile, one more of relief this time. When you looked into his eyes, you seemed lost — you could capture every flutter of his lashes against his cheeks, count every lustrous star that was laid in his eyes. “That’s good, the poison can be absorbed easily through your skin.”
“Yeah.” You let yourself smile at him, hands dropping down to fiddle with the hem of your frock.
“Come on, I wanna get some shots for my book. Plus some flowers.” Pulling at your hand, he led you amidst the varying degrees of green and the damp smell of grass for a good distance, before halting in front of a bush. You knew what he’s referencing to by ‘shots’. The camera that hangs around his back, ready to immortalize the memory into his SD card, or rather make a polaroid (or a painting, if he’s being artistic) and tape it to his notebook along with the pressed flower.
“Look!”
Trip a step back, and you yelp at the sudden intrusion to your pace, pouting at Jeongin before looking in the direction he had his eyes fixated on. “Roses.” You giggle, kneeling in front of the bush and hissing when you feel the damp coldness of the grassy floor seep into your knees. “They’re pretty.”
You can barely hear the sound of students walking past you — the moment seems almost captivating — nothing heard, nothing felt except the whirring of the wind, and the fresh smell of various plants mixed together, it carries.
This part of the garden seems particularly shady and cool, and some of the roses haven’t bloomed yet. A few rosebuds, a few half-bloomed roses, and two fully bloomed, deep red roses, sitting nicely against the green foliage.
Jeongin kneels before you, and you turn to smile at him, chortling at the way his glasses are about to fall over his nose again. You ruffle his black hair gently before fixing the glasses up his nose.
“You might wanna get a chain attached to that thing. You know those strings that go around your neck and to your glasses to hold them in place?”
Jeongin chuckles. “It’s alright. I don’t like my glasses anyways.”
“Whyyy…?” You whine, poking his arm playfully before directing your focus back on the rose. “You look so adorable with them.”
Your friend feels a smile tug at his lips, leaning in to pinch your cheeks lightly. “You’re adorable.” He says, before focusing on the rose, (thankfully) oblivious to the way your cheeks feel warm after his action.
“Here, let me pick them out and then we can press them into our journals.” Yes. The both of you have matching journals, owing to your near obsession with flowers. You oft share them with each other and get fascinated by how the other views the flower, how they delicately craft words into how the little gift of nature meant to them. It’s a heartwarming tradition — one of the main reasons you follow it till date.
Jeongin pulls out a pair of scissors from his satchel, and albeit with a lot of force (and the adorable nose scrunch™, manages to cut off a decent amount of stem with the fully bloomed flower, carefully bringing it to his nose to smell it before doing the same to the other one. And all the while, you silently watch.
“Here, this one is more fresh.” It’s so surprising how he can just say that by looking at the flower. Then again, you know him better than anyone, so it’s not surprising at all. He looks at you with dreamy, fluttering eyes and that precious smile on his face, his hair falling perfectly on his forehead. You want to reach out and fix the stray hairs back into position, but you hold back, swallowing the lump in your throat when you look into his pretty, pretty eyes. Trying your damnedest to not get mesmerized, lost in them once again.
It doesn’t seem like a very, very special moment. And to you at that time, it wasn’t special. You simply ignored the heat that crept up your face at his silent gesture, nodding sporadically and ignoring the way you tensed up more when your fingers touched, barely.
Your heart suddenly thumped against your chest with renewed vigour, and you could tell Jeongin was close to noticing it too.
“T-thank you, that's very sweet.” Fixing the frills of your frock, you smooth them over before looking further and deeper into the garden.
“Lend me a hand, please.”
You once again, ignore the way your heart flutters at his statement, silently extending your hand and covering up your sudden emotion with a smile. His hand feels soft, warm in your hold, fingertips slightly rough from when he used to play the violin. You like it, though.
“Here.” He places the rose carefully in your palm, making sure no thorns prick the delicate skin of your palm, and you can’t help but smile at the tiny reassurance. A nod of approval and you tuck the flower away neatly into your satchel, almost like a valuable present he’d given you, oblivious to the way Jeongin’s eyes twinkled at your action, his smile beaming.
My god, who would’ve known this flower could’ve brought you so, so much trouble?
It had started simple, almost unnoticeable. Just little glances towards Jeongin when he’d come over to watch a movie, getting lost in the way his hair looked exceptionally soft to touch, silently drifting off into space as you admired him from the backseat during class — sure, you were supposed to be focusing on the lesson and taking notes, but something about the way the rim of Jeongin’s sunglasses caught the sunlight and created a lens flare effect was breathtaking to watch.
That, combined with his beauty, his personality. It was too much, too much to handle.
You found yourself waiting to get a glimpse of him, even a tiny glance of his smile would be enough to make your day — to make your heart flutter.
He was pretty.
You suppose it’s because being Jeongin’s best friend meant you already knew about the kind and empathetic man he was — but for the love of god, you could not stop your heart from fluttering when you heard his name, let alone looked at him and his mind-numbingly pretty smile, his dazzling eyes that always seemed to keep you off the ground.
Oh my, was this love?
You didn’t believe it. You didn’t agree, couldn’t accept that this was love. Maybe it was just your way of showing appreciation for him, for everything he’d done for you? Yes. That was probably it.
Love wasn’t something you’d experienced — how could you jump to the conclusion?
But you couldn’t pin the feeling you were feeling to another word — though you were desperate. The way your heart beat faster around him, the way you started noticing all the tiny details that made you fall for him even more, and for what? Just because he happened to give you a fresher, more lusciously colored rose after choosing them on his own?
Jeongin had noticed it too — it was hard not to when you’d start fiddling with your thumbs, twirling your hair, and the way heat would rush to your face when he did as little as smile at you — you’d fallen for him — and while he was ever-the-oblivious to realise the implications of your actions, he did know that something was wrong.
“Y/N, are you alright?” Jeongin asks rather dully, seeming kind of worried about your current state. You’re resting your head against his lap, but Jeongin can feel the warmth of your cheek through the thin material of his shorts — and not the regular kind. The kind of heat one would radiate when they’d either been overly flustered. Or possibly a fever.
He rests a single palm against your cheek and your eyes flutter shut, and there it is again. The butterflies in your stomach, the fuzzies in your head, and the tingling that shot up to your fingertips. “Are you sick? Is that why you’re oddly quiet today? You haven’t said or eaten anything.”
“Ah, no, I’m alright.” You try to hide the dizziness in your voice, snuggling in his hold before fluttering your eyes close. Thankfully, Jeongin doesn’t question it.
“Alright, we won’t talk about it if you don’t want to.” Even though you aren’t facing him right now, you can feel him smile in melancholy.
“Hey Y/N?”
“Yes?”
“You know I’m here for you, right?”
Oh, you knew.
Sometimes you wish you didn’t — maybe that would’ve prevented it from ending this way.
It’s such a common scenario — in movies, in books, in media. Two best friends falling in love with each other, confessing their love in the warm and intimate setting of the night sky, over gentle touches and lingering kisses. You’ve always had an attachment to those kinds of movies or books — because for you, that kind of love was special in it’s own way.
Those little ways the lead characters had of showing each other their undying love, those subtle acts were so special, so special in their own way. Those books had shown you how heartwarming, how vulnerable yet rigid, strong that relationship could be. It was such a pretty world to explore, to fantasize. You kind of felt that you and Jeongin were the protagonists of those books, those movies.
Except, you had no happy ending.
The books failed to show how painful it was to swallow, to digest the fact that you could be nothing more than friends. Sure, there had been some moments where the main leads would be sad, but it was nothing compared to this, this suffocation in your chest that slowly built up, day by day, minute by minute, second by second.
It was hard.
The first prick in your chest hadn’t been entirely painful. It was barely noticeable even. Simply a tiny jolt of pain when you bent forward to grab your books from your locker. It had only been a slight jab, like when you’d accidentally poke yourself in the rib with the edge of your hardcover diary while picking it up. Nothing too hard.
Then came the slight feeling of breathlessness. You found yourself unable to run a full round in P.E (when you could easily do so beforehand), having to stop in between to catch your breath. You figured it could’ve been your dust allergy because the P.E room wasn’t cleaned that often, so it made sense. Somewhat. Still sceptical, but nonetheless, you covered up your random outbursts of coughs with any and every excuse you could find when your parents questioned you about it.
It was hard, but you figured it was just a matter of winter passing by, and soon you’d be alright.
Would you, though? You couldn’t bring yourself to accept that there was in fact something wrong happening to you, pushing behind that feeling of paranoia every time with a smile on your face and a hold of your breath, wishing for the pain to ebb away.
Who would’ve thought that a sudden infatuation would have led to your demise?
Jeongin can hear the noises.
Those loud, dragged out wisps of air that you borderline struggle to take in and expel out, Jeongin can hear them.
He can feel your struggle. It’s not easy for him to look at you like this, curled up into a ball and ignoring the rampant burn in your chest. The movie isn’t even the main focus right now. Jeongin has something to say, and he’s had enough of watching you struggle. He’s rather here to persuade you to go to the fucking doctor, and get some sort of diagnosis instead of beating around the bush.
Strange. Jeongin feels oddly affectionate today, when usually you’re the one to initiate such gestures. All he wants to do is pull you into his arms and rock you back and forth until you fall asleep, because you seriously seem like you need it.
“Y/N,” he calls, watching you lift your head up from where it’s rested against your knees. You don’t reply, because right now, your throat seems like a barren desert and all you can seem to let out is a croak.
Jeongin sighs and rolls his eyes as if in deep thought, turning on the couch to face you before touching the tops of your cheeks with his hands — they seem overly feverous.
“What’s going on?” He asks sternly.
“What d-do you mean?” You manage to get out, feeling your chest hurt more and more with each syllable that leaves past your lips in a croaked voice. It felt like someone was repeatedly stabbing your chest with the sharp edge of the knife, the burn in your throat and lungs getting too much to handle. You can’t even tear your focus from the fiery sensation to revel in the feeling of Jeongin’s soft palms cupping your cheeks.
“Y/N, you’ve been acting weird ever since the expedition.” Worry is laced throughout his tone, mixed in with a dash of sorrow to give rise to the most heartbreaking sound you’ve ever heard. Though you know otherwise, it almost seems as though Jeongin is disappointed in you.
“You’ve been getting more and more sick—” he raises a hand to stop you from contradicting his statement. You only look at him with mellow eyes, knowing that what he says is right. You’ve been ignoring your health for too long.
You can’t help it, either. While you have an inkling of what might’ve happened, you’re too stubborn to accept it, let along your unrequited love for your best friend, who seems ever-the-oblivious.
“—and you can’t tell me it’s the winter allergy, love. I know you more than that to believe it.”
Shaking your head in dismay, you turn around to get up. You can’t be having this conversation right now, not with the faintest taste of blood lingering at the edge of your throat — you can’t be showing yourself like this in front of him — broken down, vulnerable, confused of your own feelings, having no idea of what you should be doing.
Your mother had pointed it out too, at this point. They suggested going to the doctor, and you outright refused. You didn’t want your suspicion to come to life. It couldn’t- it couldn’t be this way-
“Y/N!”
Jeongin grabs your hands to stop you in your position and turns you around.
And that’s a wrong move.
Your whole chest tightens, and the thorns that stab against your chest has never been more painful. You cry out loudly, only causing them to dig deeper into your skin and almost bleed. Jeongin’s eyes widen in shock at your sudden, unexpected reaction and only tightens his grasp on your hands.
Which again, is a very wrong move, because the following bouts of coughs that take over you shake you up from the core. Jeongin feels blanked out looking at how much you’re suffering right now, so much that he doesn’t feel the wet, yet light flutter on the back of his hand.
When Jeongin snaps back in from his momentary daze, he’s borderline horrified.
He’s convinced, completely certain that there’s nothing more terrifying, heartbreaking, scarring — he could go on and on — than what he just saw. He can almost feel his heart break into a million tiny shards, but he knows that it’s nowhere equivalent to the pain you’re going through.
Well, looks like your suspicion did come to life.
Because what Jeongin sees is, gah, he feels horrified. There’s blood dripping down your lip, staining the skin below garnet red. Your eyes are tinted pinkish-red too, most likely from the exertion that came along with the horrendous amount of coughs that took over you.
Red, red everywhere. Jeongin had previously thought of red as one of the most beautiful, and most interesting colors ever — a symbolism of love, nothing but the pure love he felt towards you.
But now, all he could think of was how much he was tormented by the mere sight of the color.
When his eyes, still blown wide in shock, trail down to his lap, the mere sight of what’s littered on it leaves him in tears.
Red petals, everywhere. All over the back of his hands, all over your lap, all over his lap.
Jeongin could probably spend ages, ages sobbing and whimpering about the sheer pain the sight in front of him brought. It tormented him beyond imagination. This should be a dream — Jeongin wants to wake up any second now, anywhere, in your lap, in his own bed, just anything to save his heart from seeing you this way.
Yet when you cough again, the pain in his heart tells otherwise.
“Y/N!” He chokes out a cry, and from there, he acts quick. He could cry about this later — he needs to find you some help, and now.
You feel numb. As numb as you possibly can when you see the tears in Jeongin’s eyes, though your sight is clouded by your own tears. You’re numb to the blood dripping down your chin and pooling in your lap, you’re numb to the feeling of those bloody petals littered all over the couch.
“We need to get you to the hospital, quick.” He gets up, wiping his eyes that are surprisingly, surprisingly overflowing with tears. You barely feel the handkerchief quickly wiping against your mouth, causing you to snap from your trance and look at him. The numbness doesn’t fade yet.
You doubt it ever will.
You’re not sure that the events after the incident go super quickly or as slow as a snail, and you’re not in any state to care about it either. Jeongin had called your mother when he drove you to the hospital — albeit over the sound of your repetitive and raucous coughs — and now your mom’s standing next to him outside, nervously prancing back and forth as he waits for the doctors to come out.
The hospital corridor is moderately lit — perfect setting for Jeongin’s mood right now. There’s no sound except for the occasional encounter when a nurse or doctor happens to walk past them. The hanahaki treatment section of the hospital isn’t the most crowded place — surprisingly enough, the doctors had immediately known what had happened to you.
Your mother can’t bring herself to thank Jeongin for dragging you to the hospital — she’s too paranoid. Your daughter coughing up blood and — Jeongin hadn’t mentioned it to her — flower petals over a movie night isn't the best news you’d want to receive when her friend calls you; so Jeongin understands why your mother is overly quiet.
He doesn’t try to reassure her either. It’s hard to do so when she’s gonna find out her daughter houses a wedding bouquet in her chest — and Jeongin isn’t that oblivious to not know what’s going on, especially standing in the hanahaki department of the clinic. His mother, not so much. All she can do is silently sob and mutter prayers repeatedly, hoping her daughter would be alright. Jeongin feels his heart break more when he sees your mom like this, and he knows he’s not gonna last at this rate, when he’s allowed to enter your room.
At this point, he can’t get past his own brain screaming a million different things at the same time, none of them coherent enough to make sense. He’s a mess right now — red eyes puffy and swollen, hair completely disheveled and half of his sweatshirt hanging out of where it was neatly tucked in.
Two hands at his heart, and that’s when he notices the red rose petal stuck to the back of his hand, probably from when you’d coughed all over it. It’s fairly large in size — Jeongin examines it, in a slightly successful attempt at trying to distract from the feeling of anxiety that builds up inside bit by bit. It’s a deep, dark red color, exactly like the rose he’d given you that day, at the trip.
The boy sighs to himself before pulling the petal off his hand, eyes widening when the blood underneath it tints the skin it runs across.
That’s when a lump forms in his throat, but he isn’t given time to cry, because soon enough, the sound of a door opening clicks through his ears, and Jeongin’s head snaps up.
He can see you from where he’s standing, and his whole world freezes in front of his eyes.
The flowers inside your chest had grown moderately large — that’s what the doctor said, at least. You’d been hiding your disease for two months, and it wasn’t until the end that Jeongin caught on — you’d been too stubborn to accept your fate. Maybe this was how it was supposed to end, after all.
You couldn’t accept it then, but you did now. Did it seriously make a difference?
Jeongin had seen your scan, and what he saw would’ve truly been pretty, if not for the fact that these flowers could be the cause for your imminent death. The roses had almost fully bloomed — and the thorns were pricklier than ever. Jeongin could almost feel them stab against his skin, and he didn’t even have the disease. It was confusing — things were too confusing right now.
You couldn’t speak much, the painkillers you were on were making you drowsy and causing you to quickly fall asleep. Even if you weren’t asleep, it wouldn’t have made a difference.
Numbness ran through your veins. You couldn’t bring yourself to feel anything after what had happened.
Jeongin and your mother hadn’t spoken to you after the doctor had shown them your scan, and they preferred to not break the news to you either, figuring that you were pretty shaken up from the incident already.
The doctor said he could give you two weeks before the flowers filled your lungs completely and blocked your throat.
And Jeongin is devastated.
When the effect of your painkillers wear off and you open your eyes, you feel a soft sensation brushing against your thumb, slowly turning to look at your best friend — tears streaked all over his face, eyes ridden with dark circles and red and puffy, his voice sounded nasal as he silently cried, eyesight focused on the floor.
“J-Jeongin…?” You mumble past your oxygen mask, surprisingly not noticing it’s presence until right now,
He perks up at the painful call, lifting his head to gaze into your eyes. He looks worse than you look right now, if you’re to be honest. You doubt he’s even brushed his teeth or had breakfast. The hospital room is pretty dim just like the exterior, but the sunlight coming from the open window is enough to light up the whole room, enough to at least see your friend’s features clearly.
“You’re awake.” he says as a matter-of-fact and you nod, gently taking off the contraption placed against your nose. Jeongin flinches like he wants to stop you. But then freezes when you try to slowly get up.
Turns out that’s a wrong move, because you can soon feel the thorns of the garden you have in your lungs prick against your skin, making you gasp and shriek in agony. Jeongin jerks up and places a hand on your back, and the other across your stomach — and gently maneuvers you into an awkward but comfortable position, before lifting the top of the bed into a reclining position before laying you down onto it.
“Careful, love.”
Your chest tightens at the actions once again, yet you try not to cough like you did the last time. Surprisingly biting on your tongue works to rid the feeling of suffocation, or at least distracts from it.
“Where’s m-mom?”
“She went to pick up some of your essentials, plus a few clothes.”
“D-did she eat? Did you eat?”
Jeongin smiles at your concern. It’s something he’s found endearing about you — how you always seem to put others first, even though you’re in a worse situation. Though the habit isn’t healthy, Jeongin can’t seem to get over how thoughtful one would have to be to act that way all the time. You’re so innocent, so kind — you’re one of a kind, at least for him.
“What?” You chuckle, noticing Jeongin’s lingering stare on you.
Your friend only beams, taking your hand in his once again. “I forced her to eat something because of her medication, so you don’t have to worry. I ate along with her too, though the canteen’s food doesn’t taste that well.”
A soft giggle leaves your lips and quickly morphs into a set of coughs, more petals fluttering all over your lap and hands. When Jeongin stands up to call a doctor, you lift a hand to stop him, gesturing for him to sit down.
It isn’t as intense as the first time, but there’s still a tiny bit of blood dripping from the corner of your mouth, which Jeongin quickly goes to wipe off with his thumb. You flinch at the warm touch, sighing to yourself before dropping your gaze to your lap.
“So…” You start. “What did the doctor say?”
“What?”
Jeongin seems visibly tense at your question, kind of like he was dreading it. Which he was. He knows enough about this to know that patients usually don’t like knowing, and in fact can be traumatised by knowing that their apparent death would be in two weeks.
Jeongin in fact has no idea how he’s so calm. He should be sobbing, trashing, looking for a way to hold you back. He shouldn’t be so calm.
He figures he’s just accepted fate. He’s relishing what could be his last moments with you.
You don’t reply, and Jeongin knows he’ll have to make something up.
“They said it’s just a regular allerg-”
“Jeongin.”
The boy freezes.
“Don’t lie to me.” Your voice is laid with so much pain, Jeongin wants to reach out and crush every problem you have into his fist. He wants all your sorrow and worry to dissolve, and right now, he just feels helpless. He feels powerless.
“How many days do I have left?” You ask, sniffling before wiping your tears away. “Just tell me already, Jeongin-”
Jeongin’s grip tightens against your hand as he whispers — “Two weeks.”
The words are only let out as a soft mumble, as though Jeongin himself is questioning the statement the doctors put forth. Really, in two weeks? Would you really be gone? Would he seriously never see more of your smiles, your loving gaze, those times when you’d get overly shy of his compliments, those times when you’d silently smile at him from afar?
Was this the end?
“Two weeks.” You repeat. Your voice honestly sounds like a croaking frog, but you can’t bring yourself to care.
“Hey Y/N…?” Jeongin hesitantly calls.
“Yeah?”
“Can I ask you something?” He puts his other hand on yours. “Two questions, actually.”
“Mhm?”
“This disease you have… hana-”
“Hanahaki.”
“Yeah, that.” A hand runs against the back of his neck and he continues. “Be honest, did you know that- that you had this disease before I found out?”
“Jeongin…” You’re about to shake your head, but then you remember the deadline. The deadline by which, you’re no longer going to be here, no longer going to be able to cuddle Jeongin during movie dates, no longer be able to even look at him from afar, or close for that matter. In other words, you didn’t want to end your days with him based on a lie.
Therefore you sigh, breathing out a ‘yes’ as your shoulders droop down.
You can hear Jeongin’s shaky sigh too.
“W-why?” He clenches your hand tightly, sadness mixing in with what you can only call disappointment. “How could you be so selfish?”
It's too late to take back those words now.
“Wh-what?” You raise your eyebrows, feeling scared at his sudden question. “Jeongin, I wanted to be sure-”
Oh who are you kidding? Jeongin and you both know that you’d hidden it because you didn’t want to accept it. It’s too late to change that now.
And Jeongin seems to know that too.
“Don’t- Y/N.” His breath morphs into sharp inhales, as though he’s downright angry at your actions — you know he has every reason to be — still, it doesn’t ease the pain in your heart. Or maybe that’s just the flowers.
“Do you think this is a joke?” His sobs grow louder in fervour, and you feel yourself break at the sight. The room is so, so quiet that you can hear his faint mumbles. You can hear the cries his heart screams in agony, letting you go is painful for him. The thought, rather the sound, only makes the plant in your heart grow further.
“Y/N- did you not think of your mother? Of me? Did you not think of what would have happened if you left us? You think it’s gonna be easy on the both of us? On everyone?” His gaze stern and his voice stable, you don’t get affected by his words, but you do understand what he means — and maybe wish that you could’ve reversed your actions.
“How could you, Y/N?” He gets up from where he’s seated beside your hospital bed. “How could you think that this would be the most appropriate action?”
Jeongin knows he’s angry. Jeongin knows you’re going through a lot. But he’s too.
He’s not angry at you, not at himself, but fate. He’s mad that this is your fate, that you have to go away so soon. He’s mad that he can’t do anything to help you, in any manner.
You don’t say a word, which only causes Jeongin to sigh — disappointedly, again — and walk to where his coat is hung against the edge of his bed, picking it off and pulling it over him in a hurry. Every cell in you wants to scream at him, apologize for what you did, but your voice feels small, almost like you can’t force it out of your throat.
He goes towards the door that leads to the corridor, stopping for a second before turning to look at you.
“Are you gonna tell me, at least, who this person is?”
“W-what?” Things are too confusing right now.
“Hanahaki comes with unrequited love, Y/N. Are you gonna tell me who didn’t return your love?”
“You didn’t” You want to say. But then again, you stay quiet, not being able to handle the intensity of the moment.
Jeongin wants for two seconds, then sighs and shakes his head. “Whatever, I guess.”
And then he leaves.
In the next week, your health goes down drastically. More of petals expelled out of your lungs, more blood dripping from between your lips, more of your mother’s horrified expression as she runs away from the room while the doctors tend to your coughs. More sobs from your mother when she thinks you’re asleep, more melancholic smiles when you’re awake.
But you feel so empty.
Every piece of you feels like it’s being ripped apart. You can’t even sit up without someone’s help, of such intensity is the pain. The pain of knowing that your love would never be returned.
The pain of knowing that you hurt the person you loved truly.
You were put on your oxygen mask 24/7, and instructed to not take it off whatsoever. Your medication stopped taking it’s usual effect, and if anyone saw you the way you were outside the current circumstances, they’d have assumed that you haven't slept for 8 days and were going to crumble into the earth any second.
“Honey?”
You gasp at the sudden intrusion to your thoughts, turning around to see your mother, sitting next to you and holding your hand with her own. You hum as a response, clearly unable to respond more than a mere mumble.
“Did you and Jeongin fight?”
A pang of guilt floods through your nerves at the mention of your friend’s name. He’d come to visit you only once in the past week. Perhaps even he couldn’t handle the fact that your death certificate was ready to be signed soon, and was trying to not be tormented by the fact. Or perhaps he was just angry.
“W-why?” You croak.
“I convinced him to come stay here while I go pick up a fresh change of clothes, but it took me quite a bit of arguing.”
You feel sad for her. She’s clearly paranoid — you can hear it in her voice, the shake lingers throughout. Yet she holds it in, trying not to let you worry about it.
You don’t answer her question. The last thing you need is for her to get mad at you too, though you doubt it. Your mom has never been the kind to yell at you for anything — provided, you’ve never given her a reason either.
“Do you think he’s mad because I didn’t tell him about the person who didn’t return m-my l-lo-ve…?” your throat goes dry towards the end and your mother quickly hands you a glass of water. You chug it down and sigh in relief, breath still short.
“Is that person him?” Your mother questions with her gentle, soothing voice one that can make you relax on the first listen. There’s no use lying to her, you figure. She knows you too well to do that, plus, like you said, you couldn’t bring yourself to end your days with her on a lie.
“Yeah…”
“Oh sweetheart,” She brushes some of your hair off your face, sitting down again before drumming her fingers against the back of your hand gently. “I don’t think he could be mad at you.”
“But he is. Didn’t y-you see? He didn’t bother to meet me as much after our argument. He’c c-clearly mad.”
“Hmmm,” Your mother ponders. “I don’t think so.”
“You don’t?”
“Nope. I have known him for a while, dear. He’s been with you for more than five years. Maybe he’s having trouble taking this in? Just like…” Your mother stops after that, but you know the completion.
Just like her.
“I’m sorry, mom.”
You simply don’t get it. You should be scared. You should be sad and devastated that your end was going to come soon. You should be thrashing around and crying and wailing in despair — you just don’t have the energy to even bother about your end. It’s depressing, but you know there’s no way you could avoid the inevitable, or get your lover to return your love.
Love wasn’t supposed to be something forced, it had to happen naturally. And if Jeongin didn’t develop it naturally, you just had to learn to live with it. Or not.
“Don’t be, darling. Everyone deserves to love, just like how they deserve it back. I wish it could’ve ended differently.”
“It’s alright mom. He loves me too… just not on the way I love him.”
You sniffle as a single tear runs down your chin, though you and your mom aren’t given enough time to speak more when you hear a familiar voice at the door.
“Hey Mrs. L/N.” Jeongin says, shrugging off his half snow-covered coat before hanging it onto the bedside. Did he seriously walk in the snow? All the way here?
“Hello, Jeongin dear.” Your mother stands up, picking her coat before moving to fish the car keys from her purse. “Thank you for watching over Y/N while I’m gone, darling.”
“It’s no problem, Mrs. L/N.”
“Oh, so formal.” Your mom chuckles, though in her despaired state. “Y/N, you get some sleep, it’s about midnight dear.” She leans over to kiss your forehead while Jeongin excuses himself to the washroom, and you nod.
“Good night mom.”
“Good night, and don’t worry about him. He’ll talk to you eventually.”
Oh, how reassuring. “Mhm.” You smile, closing your eyes to drift into slumber before Jeongin returns, because the last thing you need right now is to feel sad and cry over how you’d hurt him.
By the time the sound of the door clicking resounds through the space, you’re already asleep.
It’s way past midnight. Jeongin shouldn’t be up.
Somehow, he still finds himself seated next to your bed, staring fondly at your calm features as you finally get the rest you’ve needed for the past few days.
Oh, he wouldn’t be able to compare your sheer beauty to even that of the moon; even when you’re in such a fragile and vulnerable state. Your eyelashes are still and unmoving where they sit against your skin, your breath is calm and slightly wavering as you struggle to breathe slightly.
His hand slips into your own gently, and his heart melts when you shift, tightening your grasp on his warm skin before falling into a slumber again.
Why was he mad in the first place? Jeongin feels dumb for acting so quickly on his emotions, especially when you’re in a bad place at the moment. He wants to wake you up and apologize, but he can’t, because you’re sound asleep — and that’s a good thing, since seep comes so scarcely to you these days.
Then, a single tear falls from his eyes. His thoughts traverse to the dream he had the previous night — you, cold, dead in his arms. Him, sobbing, trying to wake you up but you’re really gone. He can’t even hear your mother’s cries from behind him, because he’s devastated to know that you’ve left him. The dream had woken him up in a cold sweat — it was then he realised that he’d committed a mistake, and agreed to come visit you, because you had about 5 days left.
His thoughts then traverse to the conversation you had with your mother, while he was standing outside in the cold hospital corridor, curiously listening.
“Is that person him?” “Yeah…”
When he heard those words, countess, infinite thoughts crashed at his head; all at once. Nothing made any sense. The reality of the situation was dawning on him too quickly, and Jeongin was having a hard time processing it.
You loved him? He was the person who didn’t return your love?
“Why didn’t you tell me, Y/N?” He mumbles in confusion — so much confusion, so much hurt — he wanted time to just stop for awhile and give him a fair chance to analyze the situation.
But, once all the initial thoughts were out of the way, only one question remained:
Was he the reason you were going to die?
Jeongin felt like a murderer — like he’d just stabbed you in cold blood. He knows it is’t like that — just like you’d said, love should come natural. So why did Jeongin feel so bad? WHy did he feel like he was the one at fault?
A fond smile crosses his lips when he remembers the book where you keep all your flowers safely. Who would have thought your fondness for flowers would morph into the reason for your demise?
Quiet, hushed in the midnight wind, Jeongin gently brings out the rose he’d picked from his satchel. It’s almost relieving to see a rose in it’s true glory, without scattered petals or blood covering the flower. A part of him grows sad that you won’t be able to gush over flowers together anymore, he won’t be able to see your smile anymore. It hurts him. It stabs his heart over and over again, and Jeongin is pained — almost like he’s being put to death slowly — he wants the pain to end, but only suffers and suffers.
The stem has already been cut and the thorns have been thrown out. Jeongin leans over to tuck the flower behind your ear, fingers brushing against the almost cold skin at the back of your ear before letting another tear slip from his eye, running down his cheek and falling on your palm.
A strange, oh-so-strange feeling creeps up on him. It’s like… a fluttering in his heart? Jeongin can’t quite place it — heck, he doesn’t try to make sense of it. There are more important things to look at, right now. He suddenly has the urge to pull you into his arms and gently murmur sweet words into your ear — seems odd for a situation like this, but oh well, feelings are feelings.
He pats your hand gently and smiles, before moving to sleep on the smaller bed in front of your own. Not allowed to go far, though, because your grip on his hands tighten almost immediately, and Jeongin tightens to look into your eyes, sparkly and slightly droopy from the intrusion of sleep.
“Y/N, go to-”
“Stay.” You mumble, feeling your voice choke as the petals threaten to spill out for what seems like the millionth time. Yet, you manage to spill out another, “Please?”
Jeongin feels like he’s about to cry. Your expression is so, so hopeful, he can’t bring himself to deny. He wouldn’t in the first place, because who was he to deny what could be his friend’s last wish?
A sob bubbles up his throat, but he swallows it down, smiling with melancholy before following your weak pull on his hand, genty climbing on your bed before slotting himself between you and the steel grill that prevented patients from falling down. He gently tucks his hand under you and pulls you close to himself, tensing up for a second when you wrap an arm around his own, gently rubbing on it before drifting off to sleep. You want to cherish this moment — this could be the last time before you could never see him again. Fuck your medication for making you so drowsy. Or not, because you were certain you would start crying, and that would certainly not end well.
The whole room falls silent for two seconds, and you fall asleep almost immediately.
And then, Jeongin releases all his tears, and everything comes crashing down on him. He breaks apart.
The world was too cruel to you. He was cruel to you. He can’t believe that in less than a week, you’d be gone. Gone from earth. Flowers had lost all their beauty for him, the moment he saw you coughing them up on that couch during movie night.
He wanted to do anything. He wanted any small sign to show that you would stay with him. He was in so much pain, he couldn’t accept your fate. He wanted to grab your hand and pull you to himself, keep you close, he couldn’t let go, he couldn’t give you up, he couldn’t —
“I love you.” You mumble unconsciously in your sleep, and Jeongin loses it then and there. His throat feels dry as tears flow and flow and don’t cease no matter what. His body shakes like a sobbing child, but thankfully you’re knocked out from the effect of your medication. He hasn’t cried this hard in a while, guess there’s a first time for everything. The three words pierce his heart, and they suddenly hold more meaning than anything — Jeongin wants to hear those words on a loop; he feels strangely ecstatic when you say them.
And so, with a shaky voice and a sorrowful tone, Jeongin replies after pressing a kiss to your forehead — “I-I love you, t-too.”
His eyes flutter shut and he basks in your arms just one last time, holding you close to himself as he finally, finally finds himself at peace, next to you.
When your mother finds you both snuggled up and asleep together, a smile crosses her lips. A hopeful smile.
“Are you ready for your scan, Y/N?”
You feel oddly light today — one would say it’s because your body was close to shutting down completely, but your throat felt a bit, a tiny bit clearer and less barren than a fucking desert. Nevertheless, the scan does make you nervous. This would make clear how long the flowers would take to reach your throat — the doctor’s estimation was about three days, which seemed way too short for Jeongin.
Oh, how embarrassing it was when the nurses, all giggly and mushy-eyed, found you snuggled with Jeongin like a teddy bear at the early hours of the morning, waking you and Jeongin up and only cracking up more at your bewildered expressions when you find yourself tangled with each other.
Before the scan, Jeongin had held your hand softly, leaning down to press another kiss to your forehead. You’d shyly smiled, nodding before letting the nurse drag you to the scanning room.
The details of the scan itself aren’t important, it went pretty well — as decent as a scan could possibly go. You’re able to cooperate with your nurses pretty feasibly, you feel the sudden urge to get out of your wheelchair and try walking. Sure, you can still feel the choked feeling in your throat and the burn in your lungs, but somehow, it’s just a tiny bit lesser than usual. Maybe it’s because your painkillers are working more effectively. Maybe.
Jeongin’s waiting for you outside when you’re led out of the room, and he smiles when he sees you.
You don’t even remember what you’d said the previous night. All you remember was passing out while Jeongin was in the washroom, and then waking up to him cuddled up, warm and snug next to you. His features were clear and calm as the ocean on a sunny day, a small smile on his lips, as though he was dreaming about something happy. You hope he did, because that boy deserves the happiness.
“You seem energetic today.” Jeongin says, taking note of your perky demeanour, that only causes you to giggle slightly.
Sure, you don’t remember the happenings of last night, but he does — and he’d promised himself to cherish every last second. Because in the end, it’s all he can do — for leading you to this state, for getting mad at you and wasting precious time in which he could’ve stayed with you. He’d promised to not let you live your last moment sad and desolated.
“I feel light, for some reason.” You mumble with a broken voice as Jeongin takes the wheelchair from the nurse, listening to what she has to say before bowing and nodding, leading you back to your room.
“What did she say?” You ask, fiddling with your thumbs.
“She said your scan results would come in an hour.”
“Oh… alright.”
For some reason, you’re too joyous today, after the little surprise you got as soon as your eyes opened. You can’t seem to bother about the end— you want to live in this moment, right now.
When you come back to the room, Jeongin lifts you up bridal style, causing you to gasp before placing you down onto the bed. The nurse waiting there quickly fixes your IV and helps you sit into a comfortable position (though it’s hard when thorns keep pricking at your ribs) before bowing to the both of you, and leaving.
Your mother has once again left to go fix up the house, leaving you in the trust of your best friend. You aren’t complaining though, especially when Jeongin sits down beside your bed, taking your hand in his before playing with your nimble fingers — just like always.
He looks gorgeous today. After a lot of nagging from your mother, he’d used the hospital bathroom to wash his face and comb his hair neatly, and you’re happy about that because he looks fresher and happier than ever. You want him to be smiling and happy, even when you leave, because… did you need a reason? You just wanted him to be happy and content with his life.
The thought invokes an angsty feeling of melancholy, but you brush it away, trying to focus on Jeongin and the silence that drops on the both of you like a warm blanket. You smile softly at him, gently letting go of his hand before tucking a few strands of his hair behind his ear, almost melting when Jeongin’s eyes flutter close.
“Hey Jeongin?” You call, grabbing his hand once again and interlacing the fingers together.
“Yeah?”
“When I… leave,” You notice the twitch in his expression, but nonetheless, continue. “Will you bring me flowers every week?”
You remember the red rose you’d found tucked behind your ear when you woke up — it had dried up a bit, but nonetheless, it was one of the prettiest objects you’d ever seen — even though there was a whole bouquet of them spewing out your mouth every two seconds.
“I will.” Jeongin sniffles. The thought of having to visit your grave every week to bring you flowers is immensely saddening, but Jeongin agrees anyways. He agrees, for you.
It’s the least he can do.
It’s funny how you say “leave”, like you’re going to your hometown for a month-long vacation and not actually like you’re going to be buried any time soon. Jeongin thinks it’s because you don’t want him to get too sad over his loss — a stupid thing to wish — Jeongin knows this loss is going to affect him in more ways than one.
“Jeongin, d-don’t cry…” You cup his cheek, gently brushing your thumb against his cheek and wiping away the tears that fall, one by one. Jeongin shakes his head, placing his palm on your hand and smiling at you.
“Can you do me another favor?”
“As many as you’d like Y/N.” He says. He’ll do anything you want — it’s your last wish after all.
“Bury me with my flower journal, please?” It may seem like a weird claim to bury oneself with a dusty old book, but Jeongin understands the significance — you want to hold onto those memories you made with him while writing it together, while picking flowers together and all those happy moments you exchanged.
Jeongin tries not to let his voice break again. “I will.”
You beam at his acceptance. Jeongin feels the slight thump of his heart against his chest, and a warm feeling envelopes him from inside. He’s suddenly overcome with an urge to press delicate kisses on your eyelids, though he tries to shoo it away, because it isn’t the main point of focus right now.
But soon your mother walks in, and it’s all small talk and deep conversations with her at the same time. You have breakfast, persuade (more like force) Jeongin to scarf down his meal and giggle about some random jokes thrown here and there, until the doctor comes in. Both Jeongin and your mother stand up, bowing and wishing good morning while you do too. Wish, not stand up. You’re basically tied to the bed at this point.
“Mrs L/N, I’d have had a word with you in private, but I think Miss Y/N needs to hear this too.”
“What is it, doctor?”
You furrow your eyebrows in confusion and Jeongin’s grip on your hand tightens, thumb rubbing over your skin to soothe your obvious tension. The doctor slides the transparent, firm sheet off it’s envelope before letting the sunlight hit the back of it, in order to enable a clearer viewing.
“This is… the most unusual case I’ve ever seen, but —” He points to a junction on the scan. “The flowers have actually reduced in amount, and they've separated from the windpipe by a whole two inches. See?” He points at the edges of the lungs and at the windpipe, but you understand what he means. The flowers are there, no doubt, but it’s almost like — a whole stem of them just disappeared into thin air.
Of course this could’ve been because you coughed them up, but the coughed up flowers go instantly, or so you’ve heard. There’s confusion written on all of your faces right now.
“Is that why I was feeling lighter and easier to breathe today? Because the flowers withered off and gave more space for air?” You ask in your low voice, and your doctor nods.
“Seems like it. Do you have your previous scan?” Your mother hands it to him quickly after a great deal of fishing out of her purse.
He places the earlier scan behind the newer one, and suddenly, you can see what he means. It’s almost like they shrunk — you don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but nonetheless, you’re happy you can breathe a bit more.
“What does this mean, though?” Jeongin asks, bewildered at the strange news. The room is so quiet and the tension is thick enough to cut with a knife, and you can see both your mother and Jeongin waiting for the doctor’s words.
“It means that we’ll take another scan tomorrow, a deeper one. And check if the flowers are actually collecting somewhere else, or just disappearing. And if they are disappearing…” He trails off, and you giggle when Jeongin and your mother lean forward in anticipation, though curious yourself.
“She’ll be home by Christmas. Or even earlier, if the recovery speed is fast.”
“Y-You mean… I can be cured?” Your voice shakes with hope, and the doctor smiles sweetly at you, before nodding.
“Yes dear, you’ll be the first patient who’s walked out of this place cured from hanahaki.”
At that moment, it almost feels like every flower inside your chest wilts out — you feel so light, so ecstatic. You’re over the clouds at the news, and don’t even hear your mother’s cries of thankfulness before the doctor heads out.
“Y/N!” Jeongin exclaims, ignoring the fluttering feeling in his heart and the burn in his cheeks when he cups your own. “You’re gonna come home!”
You shake with soft sobs, and smile at Jeongin.
“I’m gonna come home.” Provided the scan tomorrow showed a positive result, but you don’t bother to mention that part.
And the next day, when your scan results come back, a huge smile adorns your face, and your mother is in tears. Happy tears.
The sunshine is overly bright today, leaving you squinting for sight, especially when you’re seated in a garden out in the open, book in one hand and the other one resting against the cool, moist grass. The air holds a musky forest scent, and you revel in the feeling of the shivers the cold air that cuts through skin brings.
The park is relatively empty for the morning — you’re glad it is, because it brings on a sense of calmness that you seem to like. The surroundings are just perfect — you don’t want anyone to disrupt your mood right now.
So yeah. The story ends that way. You recover, bit by bit, though it takes a whole bunch of time. There were times when you still had to cough out those petals, but you couldn’t be happier — it felt as though you were spitting out those vicious thorns that had tormented and threatened your life. The doctors had no idea how you’d managed to recover — but this was an interesting case to put into their portfolio, so they weren’t complaining.
And oh, you had Jeongin to help you through all of it, of course.
It had taken you two weeks to be discharged from the hospital and be able to finally walk again, but when you did it — you felt like a whole new person, in a whole new world. Sure, you had to hold onto your mother or Jeongin wherever you went for the first week or so — it was almost like your legs had turned jelly.
When you returned home, Jeongin insisted that he take you to the garden every day, and when you complained that you couldn’t walk, he’d lifted you into his arms (bridal style, again) and carried you all the way there, and then given you a piggyback ride you all the way back home.
Eventually, you ended up telling him the truth — that the unrequited love that caused everything was because of how you’d fallen for him. You figured he deserved it, especially when he’d stuck with you the whole time without any hesitation and helped you whenever he could — he was truly one of the nicest, kindest people you’d ever met.
Of course, you were surprised when Jeongin only smiled and told you that he knew what you were talking about, and then proceeded to narrate how he’d overheard you in the hospital. Giggles left his lips when you gave him that meme-worthy look, making him shake his head before slinging and arm over his shoulder.
Surprisingly, that night ended just like the books — lovey-dovey confessions exchanged in the warm and intimate setting of the night sky, over shy smiles and lingering kisses. The both of you finally gave in to each other.
Huh, so maybe you were wrong about them — books — after all.
So when, your love was returned in the end, every flower in your chest had finally disappeared, and you couldn’t have been happier.
“You know when I brought you here I wanted you to help me pick flowers and not read a book?”
You laugh at the voice that comes from behind, closing the book shut before placing it on the side while Jeongin takes a seat beside you, hissing at the slight coldness of the grass. Ah, what a romantic scenario — green and colorful flowers as far as the eye could see, a book that you’ve been trying to finish but have never been able to because your boyfriend keeps interrupting you with his random outbursts of affection, and said person sitting right next to you.
“Well, you keep interrupting me all the time!” You chuckle, sliding a hand behind his shoulder before pulling him down to lie on your lap, and Jeongin complies. A sigh of content leaves his lips when he feels your fingers comb through his hair to rid them of any tangles — Jeongin feels stupid to not realise how much he loves you. It feels nice to call you his, feels nice to be able to say I love you, in all of it’s true meaning.
“What, I can’t cuddle my girlfriend now? Come on,” He takes your other hand in his, turning onto his back to look up at you before pressing his lips to the back of your hand. You feel the heat creep up your cheeks when he calls you his girlfriend, still not being able to take it in without growing immensely shy.
“You crybaby, fine. I’ll read the book later only because I love you and you give exceptionally nice cuddles.”
“Hmm, good.” He mumbles sleepily, eyes fluttering shut in calmness when he feels your fingers brush away any stray locks of hair that may get into his eyes. The reaction to your touch is so immediate these days, Jeongin thinks it’s a part of his routine now. Spend at least an hour admiring you in all of your happy, healthy glory.
Meanwhile, you’re sitting there, admiring his features in silence. His hair has grown longer now — Jeongin refuses to cut it no matter your endless verbalizations of how his original haircut looked better — and a small part of you has grown fond of this look too. His warm skin, and his sparkly eyes when he looks up at you, the bright, loving smile that he displays before getting out of your lap, kissing you on your lips to break you out of your focus.
The action only makes you more shy, and Jeongin laughs, cooing at your behavior before standing up, dusting his clothes off the dirt and extending his hand for you.
“Lend me a hand, will you?”
The line seems vaguely familiar and you’re overcome with a sense of deja vu, but nonetheless, you give him your hand, standing up before picking up your satchel and handing him his own.
“Now are you gonna pick a rose for me or do I have to do it myself again?” Jeongin raises an eyebrow and smirks, and you frown, slapping his arm before walking off to check all the flowers in their bushes.
“Hey, wait for me! Y/N!”
When he reaches you, he slides a hand into your own, interlacing the fingers before looking at you lovingly.
“I love you.” You both say at the same time, giggling at each other soon after — perhaps at how well you knew each other to time the confession so well.
So, this is how it ends. While you do think that things could’ve been handled differently, you’re glad that everything went the way it went, because in the end, you’d found him, he’d found you, you’d discovered your feelings together. You loved each other.
Because love and a red rose could never be truly hid.
but what if she had never recovered?
taglist: @inkidz @stayverse @districtninewriters @kpopscape @skzwritersclub + @sunoo-luvs @sleepylixie @rae-blogging @happiestgirlontheeastcoast @guerillrah @p2q3r4 @baby-innie (Please send me an ask if you’d like to be added to my taglist!) *oh holy lord pls let this show up in the tags*
#vracha#skz fluff#stray kids fluff#skz angst#stray kids angst#skz x reader#skz x you#skz x y/n#skz jeongin fluff#jeongin fluff#jeongin angst#skz jeongin angst#skz hanahki au#skz imagines#stray kids imagines#skz scenarios#stray kids scenarios#yang jeongin imagines#yang jeongin scenarios#blood tw#disease tw
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Into the Twilight
Ateez fic (Part.1)
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Birds wheeled above, shadows flitting across the golden sands. Turquoise water lapped at the edges and shells littered the shoreline, interspersed with strands of drying seaweed. The sun’s harsh rays beat down mercilessly, heating whatever lay in its sight. The clouds were few and far between and the view of the sea stretched for miles, interrupted only by the odd tiny island or large rock.
Hongjoong’s eyes fluttered open, blinded briefly by the bright light as spots of colour danced across his vision. He groaned, sitting up slowly and shaking the sand from his dyed blue hair, beaded strands clacking together. His loose, baggy trousers were soaked up to the knee from where he had been half submerged in the sea, and the plain shirt he had on was slightly stained from seawater and some other long-dried liquid.
The palm trees bordering the strip of beach provided a little shade, so he slowly crawled over to them and collapsed. The beginnings of a headache bloomed behind his eyes and he cursed, memories of the night dancing just within his grasp. Images of dancing and a dimly lit bar flashed through his mind, laughter and bootsteps echoing. He recalled the sloshes of cheap tankards of beer and of drinking chants egging him on as he downed more and more, and the high pitched giggles surrounding him as he slammed down the now empty tankard and demanded another.
Shit. That would explain the headache.
The bugs and leaves surrounding him created a cacophony of noise, a buzzing, cricking, whispering white noise that clogged his ears and head.
Hongjoong slowly staggered to his feet, sand flowing out of his shirt and trousers, catching slightly in the sash tied at his waist. This was when he realised he was bare-footed, and that his worn leather boots lay a few hundred yards away, threatening to be washed off into the sea. Slowly weaving his way towards them, he quickly came to the conclusion that he was either still drunk, or just extremely hungover. Either way, it made walking a lot more difficult.
After collecting his boots and emptying them of the sand, water and one indignant hermit crab, his attention wandered to the second problem; his lack of ship.
Many moons ago, Hongjoong had invested in a tiny little one-manned sloop named Declaration, and she was his pride and joy. He cleaned her hull of barnacles religiously and made sure that the sails were always sewn up to top condition. The few holes that he had sustained in his travels had been meticulously patched and waxed, and the decks were near spotless. He loved that ship more than life itself.
And now she was gone.
Hongjoong eyes widened as his body chilled. All of his things had been on that ship, including two chests of treasure he’d stolen from the Gold Hoarders that had an estimated value of 1,800 gold pieces each. Not to mention his weapons and supplies, and the plethora of little trinkets he had picked up on his travels. And now they were missing.
“No!” his legs collapsed beneath him and his hands gripped his hair, pulling it from its loose beaded ties. His ship was gone, and he was stuck on a shore he didn’t recognise. All was lost, and he would surely die here alone, with no comfort other than the clothes on his back and the sea whispering to him gently. Curse him for getting drunk last night, curse him for partying all throughout the dark hours, curse him for everything.
As Hongjoong lay there feeling sorry for himself, the day continued, the sea slowly coming inland, washing over his motionless body. He remained undisturbed for many hours, wallowing in his sorrows as dusk approached and the sky turned to streaks of deep pinks, purples and oranges.
The air had turned cold by the time he heard the first noise. Most of the colours had disappeared into the night, instead replaced with a ghostly blue and grey mirror of his world. The birds and bugs had gone silent, only the eerie cries and shrieks echoing across the islands, present whenever the sun came down and darkness shrouded the corners of reality and fantasy.
This noise was different however. It was a lot closer, a rough, gurgling snarl that ripped through the silence of the night, chilling Hongjoong’s bones to the core. It was a sound that every pirate had learned to fear across the seas and islands, a sound that they all prayed they wouldn’t come across.
Skeletons; Reanimated bones brought to life by mysterious forces that clawed their way out of the sand and dirt and thirsted for human blood. They didn’t take many hits to disassemble, however what made them dangerous was the fact that where one was, a whole horde was not far behind.
Hongjoong was in deep trouble. Maybe if he lay there still enough, they wouldn’t spot him. Just as long as none crawled out of the dirt near him, he would be ok. Theoretically. The island he was on was pretty big, three rings of land surrounding a small pond in the middle. If he remembered correctly, this was Shark Bait Cove and would be large enough to massively slim down his chance of discovery.
Oh how he was wrong.
No sooner had these thoughts entered his head, the shifting of sand rumbled, only a few metres to his right. Eyes widening, Hongjoong rolled over and sat up, staring in horror as the ground came apart, the piles of disrupted sand being swept aside as a skeletal hand burst forward. It clawed around, digging the rest of its body out. As soon as the skull was free, it locked its eye sockets onto Hongjoong and let out a piercing howl, now frantically digging and clawing at the sand to get to the man.
It felt as if someone had doused him in icy cold water. He was frozen in fear, only able to watch as the skeleton grew closer to freedom. All of his weapons were on his missing ship, so he had no line of defence. He was comparable to a sitting chicken, just waiting to die.
With a howl, the skeleton ripped itself from the ground and started scrambling madly towards him, desperate for the taste of human blood. Hongjoong screeched, scrambling away in terror, desperately kicking sand towards the skeleton in a last ditch attempt to live. It didn’t work, and he screamed louder, squeezing his eyes shut for the final time and waiting to feel the bony fingers of death.
They never came. Hongjoong cracked an eye open, confused at the delay. What he saw shocked the breath out of him.
A cutlass blade was protruding from the skeleton’s sternum, skewering it like a piece of food. It scrabbled at the blade in a confused manner until the sword was pulled from it and the skeleton collapsed into a pile of bones, slowly sinking back into the sand. Hongjoong stared at them confusedly, then looked back up, still breathless.
His saviour stood there, cutlass in hand, gazing down upon the terrified pirate. The moonlight shone on him, illuminating his features and creating an aura of power. He was dressed in a fine red and gold coat, swaying in the wind and obviously worth a lot of money. It had been left open to reveal a billowing deep red shirt, loosely laced and golden skin glistening beneath it. His boots were made of expensive brown leather and well-polished, with gold-capped toes glowing faintly in the darkness. Around his waist was a matching belt, gold-tipped and extremely good quality.
The moonlight threw dramatic relief over the stranger’s face. His black hair fell in wet strands over his forehead causing droplets to drip down his cheeks. His eyes looked intimidating and narrowed, dark irises glued staring into Hongjoong’s and his lips formed a cocky smirk. This stranger was truly beautiful. Beautiful in the dangerous ways that a hunting shark was beautiful. He reached out an elegant hand to Hongjoong, and it felt as if fate was calling him to take it.
Hongjoong slapped it away, scowling darkly. This pretty man was looking down on him, and there was no way he would feed this guy’s saviour ego any more than he already had. He eyed him as he stood up warily. The stranger noticed this and scoffed.
“If I wanted you dead, I would have just let that skeleton kill you,” he stated with a slight laugh. Even his voice was beautiful. It was smooth and calming, coming from the centre of his chest, and Hongjoong’s frown deepened. Perfect people always caused him the most trouble in one way or another.
The stranger laughed again, and Hongjoong realised he’s spoken aloud. A flush of embarrassment lit up his face and he turned on his heel to storm down the beach. Even skeletons were better than this person.
He hadn’t gotten very far when he was yanked back by his shirt and a hand covered his mouth roughly, preventing any sort of noise to escape. His eyes widened as he kicked and struggled, elbowing his captor in the stomach a few times before an arm wound around him tightly, locking his limbs in place.
The aggressive stranger then pulled both of them into the shrubbery, crouching down and pulling a large leaf in front of them. Hongjoong, still struggling for his life against this man’s iron grip, bit down hard into his hand, causing a muffled scream to come up and the hand was ripped away. He then started screeching and yelling profanities at his captor and scrambled in the dirt in an effort to escape.
The stranger, still hugging the struggling pirate against him, flipped them both over and kneeled hard on Hongjoong’s back and arm, grinding his head into the dirt and grass as he hissed into his ear.
“Will you please shut up? I’m trying to save your sorry life, and you’re not making it any easier.”
Hongjoong would have made a scathing remark back at him, however his head was being squashed into the ground so this was rather difficult. Instead he wiggled around indignantly, causing his captor to growl and raise his hand to slap the pirate.
However before either of them could do anything else, the bushes around them started shaking and rustling ominously, heralding the arrival of a new enemy. They both froze, hearts beating and breaths held.
The leaves behind them started moving aside slowly, Hongjoong and the stranger turning to look at each other in terror then turning their eyes to the parted leaves. A grinning skull stared back at them, motionless other than the faint gurgles coming from where its throat should have been. The two parties looked at each other for a few seconds until the monster let out a piercing howl and started its mad dash at them. Spine-chilling screeches echoed all around them in response, and the stranger barely had time to whip out his sword before the skeleton was upon them.
It leapt onto him, bony hands clawing for his face until the stranger managed to run it through with his sword. The skeleton let out a death scream as it collapsed into a pile of bones, and Hongjoong barely had time to draw a breath before the sound of many footsteps sounded just outside the bushes. The horde had caught up.
Hongjoong looked up at the once confident stranger, now ashen-faced. They would need a miracle to get out of this alive.
---
hello! its me, seongoftheheart! i wrote this first part a while back while i was bored in a class, but i still love it to this day and will probably write more of the story some time soon, so if you read this and liked it then feel free to stick around to find out what happens to Joong and this mysterious but sexy stranger 人( ̄ω ̄;) the story is set in a universe vaguely similar to the Sea of Thieves universe, but you really dont have to know anything about the game to be able to understand and enjoy this fic, trust me. ill make sure to explain anything that might be unfamiliar to people in due course (like i did with the skeletons :3), and i hope that you like this first part! thanks for reading!!
#ateez#ateez fanfic#seongjoong#woosan#yungi#jongsang#ateez seongjoong#ateez woosan#ateez yungi#ateez jongsang#pirate#kpop#kpop fanfic#hongjoong#seonghwa#ateez hongjoong#ateez seonghwa#kim hongjoong#park seonghwa
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The Last Dragon
Below the read more I've posted 7 very small sections of a fic that is based on this beautiful and tragic fanvid. I got literal chills watching it. If you wanna sob over our queen and her son wanting to avenge his mother, give it a watch.
I don't think I'll ever go any further, as my writing had an unfortunate run in with a brick wall, which then toppled over it and crushed any urge to write the next bit.
It's not too terrible--though it could actually be total shit, I'm not known for my writing 😂--and it was just gonna gather dust on my laptop, so figured I might as well post it. This was one of my ways of dealing with that fucked up last season within the framework of the show. I dont believe this is Dany's end, and I loathe with every fiber of my being what happened to her and her found family. And after seeing that video, the idea of Drogon doing everything he could to avenge the mother he loved more than anything appealed to that anger inside me. So I'll understand if this isnt for everyone ❤
Chapter 1
Mother.
He flies, great black wings carrying them away.
Mother.
Sharp, massive claws curl in gently. Protectively.
Mother is gone.
The cold creeps, burning against his scales the way fire never has.
Mother don’t leave.
A whisper on the wind calls to him.
Mother it hurts.
East, it sighs. It smells of smoke, and fire. Hope.
He follows, wings beating faster.
They took you.
The rage flares, searing away the cold.
They killed you.
The heat of it bursts within him, scaled skin shaking with the strength of it.
Fire and blood.
Jaws stretch wide, and the air burns red with grief.
▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪
Chapter 2
The sky bleeds red from the dying sun when Drogon reaches Volantis. The whisper that drew him there stops as he lands on an open balcony.
A woman stands before him, black hair and red robes flying up in the gust of wind from his wings. His claw gently opens, Mother’s cold body slowly sliding onto the hard stone.
Crimson, mournful eyes watch the red woman kneel by Mother, pale fingers hovering over her, not touching, for a long moment.
“I cannot bring her back, Drogon,” she murmurs, regretful.
He throws his head back, bellows fury and sadness into the sky. No, Mother, come back. I am alone.
A faint brush at the back of his mind--where Mother used to be, his brothers, the thoughts they shared together--grasps his attention. Makes him look back down at the red woman.
“I cannot give you back Daenerys Targaryen, but I can give you something else.”
His nostrils flair, and his head moves closer.
“I can give you the revenge you desire. As it stands, you may be able to raze the whole of the Seven Kingdoms, turn it all to ash, but that would not be what your mother wanted.”
Drogon growls, lips pulled up in a snarl. Sheep. All are sheep. Betrayed Mother. Killed Mother. No mercy.
She nods her head. Comprehends what he is unable to say out loud.
“Yes, they all betrayed Daenerys, took from her and killed her when her visions grew too great for their small minds. They could not grasp that the Mother of Dragons was above all a breaker of chains. She would have freed us all.”
She pauses, then continues, her voice hard. “They need to be punished. And they will be. But Daenerys’ dreams must be realized. Dragon’s Bay must remain free. The Dothraki cannot return to what they were, raping and pillaging. And the petty lords of Westeros must be laid low. Those who destroyed Daenerys must see their reigns come to an end not only by dragon fire, but by the unification of the people they have ground into the dust, unified against them.”
“A dragon has the power to do great things, but to lead men, to lead armies, that is the one thing you cannot do, Drogon. Not as you are. You must be more. And by the Lord of Light’s grace, you can become exactly what the people need.”
Drogon rumbles in frustration, steam billowing from between his sharp, clenched teeth. He doesn’t understand.
“Human, Drogon. You must become human.”
▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪
Chapter 3
They take Mother, to clean her, he is told. Remove the dagger, her clothes. Wash the blood away.
The red woman directs him to fly from the balcony, down into an open courtyard below. A large fire pit rages with a towering flame. It warms him, feels like Mother’s hand caressing his scales.
Dragons cannot cry. A mournful moan makes his great neck tremble. Human. Perhaps he can cry when he is human.
People in red robes enter the courtyard, one after another, until they circle around Drogon. His tail twitches. Their closeness agitates him.
The red woman appears, crossing the circle to stand in front of the fire. Hatred fills him when he sees what is in her hands. The dagger stained with Mother’s blood. Coward. The coward’s dagger.
“I am sorry Drogon. It is a necessary piece of the ritual. Soon,” she soothes, “you will have all you need to begin your campaign against the traitors.”
Another voice brushes against that same place in his mind. That lonely place where Mother, Rhaegal, and Viserion once lived. Soon, it too promises.
The red woman turns her head, scans the other acolytes before catching Drogon’s eyes.
“Let us begin.”
Voices hum together in chant, and the sky is filled with an agonized roar.
▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪
Chapter 4
Drogon.
He groans.
Drogon, my love.
Everything hurts.
You cannot sleep forever, my beautiful boy.
He moves his head slightly. Cringes at the sharp pain.
Wake up, Drogon.
Mother? Why does everything hurt so much?
It’s time.
The voice begins to fade. He reaches out a hand, slowly, to make it stay, and freezes. He has a hand. A human hand.
Fingers curl into his palm, and the nails scratch against his skin, bite into it. His legs scrape against the stone as he slowly stretches out one, then the other.
He can still feel the fire to the side of him; it feels heavier, pressing on his skin but it does not hurt his flesh.
What burns more painfully is the missing weight of his wings. No flight for him now.
Cold fingers brush his shoulder, curve sharply to hold him when he recoils.
“Drogon?”
He doesn’t like to be held, or touched, no one but Mother, and his brothers, but they are gone. Gone, gone, gone…
“Drogon! It is only me, Kinvara!” The voice finally penetrates, and he stops pulling away.
Allowing for her help, he rolls carefully onto his back. Sharp pebbles dig into his skin. No scales to protect him anymore.
He feels her fingers move to his face, tracing the human features. “Open your eyes Drogon. See what the Lord of Light has gifted to you.”
Gift? No gift. Just more pain. Weakness. But he opens his eyes. The fire from the pit is soothing, warm. Warmer than...before. Would it burn him? His hand flinches towards it but he’s not close enough to touch.
He turns his eyes toward Kinvara. She is smiling, eyes reflecting the fire’s light.
She waves a hand towards an acolyte. “Bring me a robe. We must cover our dragon prince.”
Red cloth is laid over him, and two other acolytes help Drogon to sit. They hold him up as the other wraps the robe around him more securely.
Drogon grits his teeth, blood rushing angry and hot.
He tries to talk, mouth struggling to form the human words. “W-We—” He growls, tries again. “W-Weak.”
“For now,” she says. “But you will grow stronger, I promise you.”
Drogon struggles to stay awake, but bone deep exhaustion pulls at him, and his frustration wanes as he slips into slumber.
▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪
Chapter 5
Four moons pass before Drogon is ready to set sail for Meereen. He was like a hatchling again, unsteady, vulnerable, and he hated it. Kinvara and her priests taught him the ways of his new body, how to eat and walk, to read their words.
Coarse fabric to wear instead of steely scales.
But now it is time. Time to search out Grey Worm. Daario. The Unsullied and Dothraki. Train with them and become stronger. Much stronger.
He knew how to fight as a dragon. Armies and castles were nothing against the heat of his fire. He must learn how to wage war as humans do.
Wrapped in a red cloak, hood hanging low over his face, Drogon is ready to begin.
▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪
Chapter 6
They are waiting for him at the dock after the sun has set, Grey Worm and Mother’s sellsword, two silent figures who do not move, do not speak until Drogon stands before them.
Daario breaks the silence first. “Drogon?”
He pulls back his hood, unnaturally crimson eyes in a human face flashing in the near dark.
Daario sucks in a breath, then huffs out a laugh. “If the red priests had not sent word ahead, I may not have believed it. But by the gods, here you stand.” He reaches out an arm for Drogon to clasp.
He does so, hesitantly, but with a firm grip. Human greetings still puzzle him.
Grey Worm steps closer then kneels, bows his head bowed, fist pressed against his chest. “Ñuha dārilaros. Bisy qringaomatan īlva dāria. Īlon emagon ossēntan se nāpāstre skoriot pōnta iōrtan (My prince. This one failed our Queen. We should have killed the traitors where they stood.).”
Drogon does not know if he is asking for forgiveness or absolution.
Dragons have no real concept of forgiveness. He should be angry the traitors were allowed to live. But Grey Worm is kin, as the little scribe had been. Mother’s old bear too, and the white-haired knight. Everyone who had been under Mother’s protection, had been under her children’s protection as well. And would continue to be.
“Rise, Grey Worm.” His voice is rough and sharp edged, and it seems to startle the two men to hear him speak. “Those that hurt Mother, that used her and took her life will be punished as they deserve. But I need your help. So rise. Let us repay them with fire and blood. For Mother. For Missandei. For them all.”
He holds out a hand, waits.
Grey Worm looks up, eyes bright with unshed tears. His lips tremble, then firm. He takes Drogon’s hand.
▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪
Chapter 7
They convene in Mother’s chambers, the map room he would never have been able to fit in before almost cavernous to him now.
Spread out around the table, the three men pull together a plan as they look down at the map.
First, they will weed out the opposition in Essos, solidify their hold in the east. Astapor, Yunkai, they will all come to heel, every slave freed. They would be as clever as Mother had been, keep the number of innocents lost as low as they could. Drogon would prefer to burn through the Good Masters, snap them up and tear them apart, but for Mother, he would be patient, and take the slower path. All the slavers would still die, and their victims would live, and live free.
But for what Drogon had planned, he needed steel in place of claws, armor instead of dragonhide. He needed Grey Worm and Daario to make him as fearsome as a human as he’d been as a dragon. And that would take time.
He ground his blunted teeth together; he hated waiting. Hated it. But let the traitors think they were safe for a while longer. It would be all the sweeter when he ripped that feeling of safety away, just as they ripped Mother away from him. His brothers. His home.
They would feel his pain. And then they would feel nothing at all.
#daenerys targaryen#drogon#mother of dragons#got au#team targaryen#team daenerys#daenerys appreciation#drogon appreciation#my fic#my moodboard
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What fics?
ok i know literally no one follows me for this stuff but you asked for it lol so here are some of my favorite sambucky aus that i am obsessed with recently
Where the Sun Sails and the Moon Walks by Saddaughter16, velociraptoreri (this time travel au is genius and literally ties everything together so perfectly..... i am such a sucker for this kind of storytelling. had to went back and read it again cause it surprised me the best way)
come on back to me by redwing (1sttimefeeling) (if you know me you know i love a good failmarriage au and this angst hurts so good and the happy ending is just the cherry on top)
also wanna s/o some other canon (divergence) fics that i also love this month🥰
- safe like spring time by quidhitch - take your time (but not that much) by yammz - Somewhere In The Ruins by glittercake
#i am currently reading another childhood best friend-esque au that warms my heart i need to find more aus like this!!#ty fic writers for sharing your works you are the best#fic rec#me a year ago will not believe i would be recommending sambucky fics rn💀#sara answers
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My demon Shane, that I could possibly write a fic for. I have everything I need for a fic but not enough events to like, put in it.
Hell is an unseen world one layer below us. Oceans are lava but landmasses look identical and are in the same locations and shape as ours. The lands are eternal flames. There are cracks and fissures all around where fire springs up from. Trees are nothing but char. There is no plant life. The sky has no sun or moon, it's some kind of eternal day. The sky is always a red color. Despite there being no sun the world is always lit. Earthquakes are common, no matter where. Demons seem to be the only inhabitants. They are solitary creatures.
There are two ways for a human to summon a demon. Each demon has a personal sigil that can be used to summon them, no matter where they are in their world. The second is a general summon sigil, the location of the summoning corresponds with the same exact location in Hell and the nearest demon in that place will be summoned.
The second way is how Shane was summoned. He appeared in a modest church with one man in front of him, his name was Jeremiah. There was a commotion above them. What was happening was that Jeremiah was part of the Teutonic knights. They were within Prussia. There were some unsettled folks that wanted them gone and had been doing their best to run them out; and slowly succeeding. Some of the knights suggested summoning a demon to fight them off, but the other half were opposed to this, being religious and all. The half that wanted to decided to go ahead, Jeremiah was to summon a demon while the rest held off the others. It worked. But Jeremiah knew they wouldn't hold them for long, and he was resigned but also happy the summoning worked. The door behind Jeremiah bursted open and another knight came running in with a knife posed to strike. Jeremiah didn't look back at his assailant nor was his smile wiped off his face as the other knight stabbed him in the back. But the death of Shane's summoner broke the seal trapping him, releasing him to the world. As Jeremiah died, Shane only raised an eyebrow. Upon release he immediately pounced on the assailant, killing him quickly. He then traveled upstairs and killed every other knight. During his massacre he set the church on fire. Shane left, never looking back. He would find out many years later that the place was heavily damaged and slowly crumbling but had survived all in all. With no way back to hell Shane was stuck on Earth. He'd wander all over over the years, sometimes adopting a human appearance but mostly staying devilish and invisible to the human eye. He was in Italy at the time sipping a cup of tea when he heard about The Boston Tea Party in Britain's colony. Interested, he boarded a boat and sailed there. He was more interested in the rest of the land. As a demon he would walk and fly across to get to the other side of the continent, coast to coast. He would fly back the entire length.
The amount of times Shane has said some variation of "I hate humans" is uncountable. He thinks humans are just as evil and bad as demons. He thinks the entire world would be better off if the entire population were to die. The only thing they're good for is making food. For years he thinks there is no such thing as a good human. Then he meets Ryan. And he reconsiders. Maybe there are some good humans but the world would still be better off with them gone. Maybe get rid of 90% of them.
He knows of the existence of ghosts. He can see them even while looking like a human. Most are weak, some even nearing erasure (over the years a ghost will slowly dissolve until they exist no more. Some ghosts disappear faster than others. Some can disappear in a few hours, some in days, some in a few months, others years. Very, extremely, rarely, will a ghost never fade. Ryan and Shane have never encountered one on their adventures. Shane met one many years ago.) Shane only knows of the existence of ghosts and demons. He really doesn't believe any other supernatural creatures exist. He has no idea if there is a God.
Shane misses Hell. But, for the most part, he likes Earth.
Shane's demon form looks like a humanoid with black skin, two black horns on his head, sort of hunched legs like a birds that gives him an extra inch or two, three claws on the feet (one on the back and two at the front), arms with claws perfect for tearing things apart, a tail with a pointed end, two wings similar to the look of a bat on the back, a mouth of sharp teeth, and two black eyes; at a glance the face looks like it has no eyes. But on a closer look one can see the shine of the eyes. He can exert his power to scare off ghosts both with aura or a roar, use his power to obliterate them, and tell when people are lying. He has significantly greater strength and speed compared to a human. Demons can have their own personalities and wants and preferences but they are made of the evil and sinfulness of mortals. One entity can not hold all that so there are many. Hell has no sense of time and so Shane doesn't know when exactly he came into being.
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Hi! Thank you for everything you do, it is so appreciated! I'd like to rec a fic inspired by The Falcon and the Winter Soldier trailer where Bucky mentions having read The Hobbit in 1937 when it first came out. It's called "where the sun sails and the moon walks" and its by lacunalady on Ao3 <3
Thank you for writing in!
where the sun sails and the moon walks by lacunalady (oneshot | 2,248 | G)
“In a hole in the ground,” Bucky begins nobly, “There lived a hobbit.”
***
Based on The Falcon and the Winter Soldier trailer where Bucky admits he read The Hobbit in 1937 when it first came out.
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“It worked?”
heres the masterlist to all of this fic ‘The Life And Times Of James Potter and Regulus Black’
** **
Translations are next to the sentences, it’s easier
September 17, 2002
“You grew up the same as I did, Potter, you should know how to dance.”
James stepped on Regulus’s foot once again, causing Regulus to wince and take a large step backward, glaring half-heartedly at James as he offered a sheepish smile in response before readjusting their arms and kissing Regulus on his nose.
“Sorry, love, it’s been a while. And also, that’s Potter-Black to you.” James gathered Regulus into his arms, spinning him around so he could wrap his arms around Regulus’ waist from behind as they swayed and moved around the room to the music, Regulus leaning his head back on James’ shoulder.
Now that she’s back in the atmosphere
With drops of Jupiter in her hair
“This is our wedding song, is it not?” Regulus hummed, and James nodded, pressing soft kisses to Regulus’s exposed neck.
She acts like summer and walks like rain
"This station has perfect timing," James murmured against Regulus' throat. Regulus only nodded, too content to do much else.
Reminds me there’s time to change, hey
And then James was singing along to the words, in dutch, whispering in his ear.
“Sinds de terugkeer van haar verblijf op de maan” /// Since the return of her stay on the moon
“Ze luistert als de lente en ze praat als June” /// She listens like spring and she talks like June
“I love when you speak Dutch, love.” Regulus smiled, and James continued, leaving more open-mouthed kisses down his bare shoulders, kissing every freckle over Regulus’s skin.
“Maar vertel me, ben je over de zon gevaren?” /// But tell me did you sail across the sun
“Heb je de Melkweg gehaald?” /// But did you make it to the milky way
There was a small, raised semi-circle on Regulus’s shoulder, at the base of his neck, one of the many scars he had gotten years before from an unloving family that didn’t deserve him. James kissed it every time he saw it, and this time was no different. He pressed his lips to it once, then twice, before continuing his line of kisses to his jaw.
“Om de lichten allemaal vervaagd te zien” /// To see the lights all faded
“I’m so happy we moved here, my love,” James whispered against Regulus’s neck and then repeated in Dutch.
“En die hemel wordt overschat.” /// And that heaven is overrated
“En vertel me, ben je gevallen van een vallende ster?” /// And tell me did you fall from a shooting star
James ran his fingers up and down Regulus’s sides, enjoying the small shiver that came from the younger man.
“Your hands are cold,” Regulus mumbled, moving around in James’ embrace. “Well, then warm me up.”
“Gladly,” Regulus mumbled, and turned around in James' arms, connecting their mouths in a slow, languid kiss. James ran his fingers up and down Regulus’s spine and sides, finally coming to rest on his waist. He ran his thumb lightly over the black and gold shimmering ink on his left hip, smiling into the kiss.
One without a permanent scar
And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there
"Ik kom nooit over deze tatoeage heen, mijn liefste." /// I will never get over this tattoo, my love.
Regulus mumbled something low in response against James' mouth, and he laughed in response. He pulled away to rest their foreheads together, still dancing around their living room to the words of the music.
Now that she’s back from soul vacation
Tracing her way through the constellation, hey, mmm
"I was not being a dumbass," James spoke, glaring at Regulus through feigned anger.
Regulus rolled his eyes, kissing James' nose before speaking, "You tried to ride the stag, James."
"And?"
"That's being a dumbass!"
James kissed the smirk away, leaving Regulus wanting more. “Fuck,” he breathed, and James tutted. “Language, Black, or you won’t get what you want.”
Regulus whined and was promptly cut off by a loud, high-pitched beeping.
Be-be-be-be-be-beep Be-be-be-be-be-beep
James groaned as he pulled away, cursing the world. “I swear to god, Regulus, if that’s your brother, I’m going to murder him.”
“You basically adopted him, you know.” Regulus retorted, and shut off the radio so James could answer the call before sitting on the couch.
"Hey, Lils." James said after he answered, and Regulus perked up. There were only 2 reasons Lily would be calling, and he so desperately wanted it to be good news…
"Yea, sure, just let us get dressed. No, it's fine, I promise. Where? Okay, see you in a little bit." James hung up, and Regulus still had questions.
"Did she say…."
"She wants to meet us at Winkelcentrum Havenhof-" Regulus cut him off with a snicker, to which James responded with an unamused look.
"You've lived in this town for three years and you still laugh at the name of the mall?"
Regulus shrugged, still laughing a little. "It's a funny name, love, don't judge me. Anyways, what else? Did she say anything else?”
“Nothing else, just apologizing for what she assumed she interrupted, which was, of course, obviously correct. But come on, sweetheart, get dressed, and we’ll go see her.”
Regulus stood up and walked back to James, throwing his arms over James’ shoulders, pulling close enough to brush their noses together. “Do you think…”
James smiled softly and took a deep breath, leaning forward to catch Regulus’ lips in a slow kiss, but it said what it needed before James pulled back. “Only one way to find out, love.”
[][][][][][][][][][][][][][]
“Why are you so dramatic sometimes, Lily?” Regulus laughed, staring at the thin, unopened box in front of him. James was staring at Lily, their hands clasped together tightly in James’ lap.
“Hey, I’m carrying your child, I get to be dramatic.” She slapped a hand over her mouth the moment she said it, eyes wide. Regulus looked up immediately, mouth open wide as his eyebrows shot up into his hair. “You are? You’re pregnant? It worked?”
Lily nodded, and then they were hugging her, and Regulus was sure James was crying. “Oh my god, Lily, thank you, thank you, thank you. I’m gonna be a dad!”
Regulus was wrapped around James, who was hugging Lily, and he whispered the next words so quietly he doesn’t know if James even heard him over all his shouting.
“Happy anniversary, my love.”
#jegulus fluff#jegulus fanfiction#lily evans#regulus black#james potter#this is all fluff#its tooth rotting fluff#thats the entire fic#i love you all thank you for reading
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pairings: soulmate!na jaemin x reader and a small dash of mark lee x reader
word count: 5.3k+
warnings: profanities, one suggestive scene, also some historical inaccuracies [since i don’t know how to speak oldsey timesy english], if you feel like you’ve read this before it’s because you have, in my old blog.
synopsis: a person’s life is destined for a purpose. in this world, everyone revolves around one purpose and that purpose floats around one person, a soulmate. throughout the majority of a person’s life, they are all set to a journey to find their other halves. some lived to be hundreds of years old in their pursuit. but it was all worth it when two souls finally meet.
taglist: @mikasrecs
note: big big thank you to my future wife @jimjamjaemin for reading this fic in its baby days and to @jenoir for being one of my constant motivators and helping me fix my horrible grammar. i love u both :( 💕
Greece. 650 B.C.
A person’s life is destined for a purpose. In this world, everyone revolves around one purpose and that purpose floats around one person, a soulmate. Throughout the majority of a person’s life, they are all set to a journey to find their other halves. Some lived to be hundreds of years old in their pursuit. But it was all worth it when two souls finally meet.
Na Jaemin was a firm believer of the soulmate bonds. He was a sucker for it, often slipping into countless daydreams of him meeting his other half.
He imagined it to happen in a vast field of flowers, the sun shining bright with no one in sight but him and his soulmate. Every second would go in slow motion, with him savoring every moment of it. His mother often scolded him for it, telling him off whenever he over baked the bread or mixed up the customers’ orders due to him zoning out.
His best friend, an upper class, named Lee Jeno got his tattoo months before him. It made the younger boy giggle every time he recalled the memory. The way Jeno’s parents gasp at the words engraved on their son’s skin like it was an abomination. And in the traditions and beliefs of Ancient Greece, it was.
Before Jaemin could even stifle his chuckle, Jeno walked through the door of their shop. He sported a colorful tunic, a contrast to the plain white one the younger boy was wearing.
“Big day tomorrow,” Jeno remarked, a happy tone lacing his voice as he strolled towards the counter, eyeing the bread displayed all around.
Jaemin couldn’t help but beam at the thought. Tomorrow was his eighteenth birthday and in his world, eighteen is probably considered the most important age a person will turn to. It was the age of independence. The age where you are thrusted into a very long journey. For some that journey might last for a year, maybe five or ten. And those people are considered very lucky because for some that journey could stretch up to a hundred years. Because at eighteen is when you receive a tattoo. Not just any tattoo, but your soulmate bond.
After that, a person’s age will be stuck to eighteen until they meet their other half. Thus, the journey ensues.
“What do you think the sentence will be?” Jeno asked, throwing a glance over to the boy.
“As long as it’s better than yours then I’m good.” Jaemin teased, making the other scowl in return. It was an ongoing joke the pair had. The sentence written on Jeno’s wrist in bold were the words; ‘nice going, asshole!’ making the older feel embarrassed by the obscene words his soulmate will throw at him. Since then, he wore a long bracelet to cover the tattoo. “Anyways what do you need? Not like I can give you much since we only sell bread here.” Jaemin said, leaning his hands on the counter.
“Just the usual,” the older answered, “some relatives are stopping by.”
Jaemin nodded, going to the back where his mother bakes. The heat from the ovens made the boy readjust the tunic he was wearing. He took one of the white bread from the rack and wrapped it up for his friend.
“Thanks,” Jeno said, taking the food before giving the payment for it. “Goodluck tomorrow!” He called over his shoulder, offering one last smile before exiting the shop, leaving the boy to go back to daydreaming.
That night Jaemin couldn’t sleep. How could he? He waited his entire life for this moment. Carefully, he lit the small lamp on the table next to his makeshift bed. He watched as the light touched every part of his small room. The chilly breeze of the night crawling up to his back, making him shiver. He took the large blanket on his bed before wrapping it around his body.
His eyes bore on the skin of his wrist, waiting. He shifted, tapping his foot impatiently on the floor. He turned his attention to the window to look at the glowing moon surrounded by its many stars. It should happen anytime now. He assured himself. Of course the onslaught of his anxiety didn’t stop after that. Every second felt like an hour to him and every hour felt like an eternity. His eyes shot fire to his wrist as he continued to stare intensely at it. The tapping of his foot grew more frantic by the minute.
He almost couldn’t contain himself as specks of black started to appear, the small tickling sensation making his lips part into an amazed 'o’. He pulled the cloth on his shoulders closer as the black swirled around the surface. His smile grew wider as time went by and the words started to become more distinguishable.
Jaemin could almost see it; the way his soulmate’s eyes would gleam, he could almost hear the sound of their laughter, and feel the electricity when their fingertips touch. Would you be as happy as him when you two meet? Would you even get the jokes he’d tell? How long will he wait for you?
He hoped it wouldn’t be long. But he also wouldn’t mind if it took a long time. He knew it was worth it. The simplest of questions ran through his mind but all of it stopped as the final word started to take form.
'you dropped your phone.’
His eyebrows furrow at the strange word. Phone? He can’t help but wonder what that was. Was it some kind of foreign food? He didn’t think so, but if it was then where was it made? The East? He heard a lot of exotic food was made there. There was a ship about to go on another expedition up north. Should he go now? Drop everything here to search for you? All that Jaemin could do was wonder. Happy thoughts filling his mind again once again, now that he thinks that he is one step closer to finding his soulmate; to finding you.
France. 1888.
“Come on, Mark!” You called out, dragging the boy as you marvelled at the tall unfinished tower. You hear the boy catch his breath next to you, resting his hand on his knees. You chuckled at his exhausted state before looking back to the sight in front of you. “How long do you think they’ll take to finish it?”
He looked confusedly at you before shifting his attention to the front. He scoffed, “probably a few more years. A hundred?”
You rolled your eyes at his answer. “Nonsense, Lee. You’ve seen how mankind has evolved a lot. Who knows? They might finish it next year.”
“You mean, you’ve seen how mankind has evolved.” He told you, putting more emphasis on the 'you’. “I’ve only been around for seventy years. That’s like a teaspoon compared to how long you’ve been alive.”
You hummed in reply, a sad smile settling in your features before quickly pulling yourself together.
True, it has been a long time since you were born. You’ve met so many people, practiced so many traditions and saw the world age right before your eyes. At this point you were slowly making your way around the globe; starting from your hometown and going west to whatever is out there.
You’ve met Mark in the ship that brought you here. The two of you hitting it off almost immediately. He told you about his life in Canada and about the happenings in the countries next to it. He was a young doctor, currently travelling the world to study medicine from different regions. On the way here, he gushed about the many plants, herbs and spices he had studied over the years. It was incredibly fascinating how he was so passionate about his work. You bet he could go on and on about his studies without ever going bored.
In exchange for the many information—and you know they were a lot—you told him about some of your very own adventures. You told him about the war you joined when you were nineteen and also told him about your time as a healer. You haven’t seen someone look so ready to take notes in your entire life. And you’ve been alive for years.
It was charming to say the least, the way the boy held onto your every word. You felt the first signs of subtle infatuation course through your veins whenever he looked at you. You wondered if this is what it felt like when you meet your soulmate: the loud pounding in your chest, the heat that spread across your head and lastly, the intoxicating feeling of having him around. It’s probably the loneliness speaking but you loved having him around.
This went on for days, the two of you hanging out wherever and whenever. It wasn’t new when the two of you headed out at night, the lights of Paris illuminating the streets as you and Mark walked along them. It’s only been a day but it felt like you’ve met him all your life. He loved sailing across the sea, he lived for the wind blowing against his face, and he had a passion for serving others and taking care of them.
You wondered what would happen if the whole soulmate ordeal wasn’t real. What if in this moment the both of you are just a bunch of runaway tourists bumping into each other. The first step to what could’ve been an amazing love story.
It was a funny thing, wasn’t it? The whole soulmate business. It punished you to no end but at the same time you wouldn’t have met Mark without it. You should be dead by now, you think. If it wasn’t for the partial immortality it gives, you would’ve died of old age. You wondered what would’ve been your life if it was.
Mark noticed your sudden quietness, his steps slowing down to meet yours as he looked up at you. Unaware of his stare, you continued to get lost in your own ocean of possibilities.
The touch he graced your shoulders made you jump, squeaking a bit as you looked at him in surprise. Mark chuckled at your response. He shook his head in amusement before finally having the nerve to call himself down. “Penny for your thoughts?”
You scoffed, smiling lightly at the boy. “Liked you’d ever spare anything for whatever’s going on in my head.”
“Well… why not?” He said nonchalantly. He pursed his lips together to further emphasise his point. “You’ve lived hundreds of years. I’m pretty sure everyone would like to know everything about you.”
You hummed, entertaining the thought a bit. “Are you?”
You don’t know where the boldness in your words came from but you thanked the stars for helping you build up your facade as you looked at Mark in anticipation.
He raised his eyebrow at you for a moment. His eyes showed you how much they scramble to gather his thoughts and make sense of your gaze and words. “Yes.”
Soon you found yourself locked with him in his room. Tongues moving against one another in a frenzy and hands gripping on any and every part of him. His lips tasted like honey while his touch felt like fire against your skin. His body set yours ablaze as he laid you down, sparking up every single desire he could find until you finally let him take you.
“Is this okay?” He asked. You nodded your head quickly while his fingers continued its job to untangle the knots of your dress. A sheepish smile adorning his face as he kissed you once again.
After that night, the two of you grew closer to one another. A sudden shift in the once platonic tide. The secret whispers and kisses shared when no one was looking. In another universe the two of you would’ve looked like a young couple in love. However you weren’t living in another universe. You were living in this one. One where kissing someone that isn’t your soulmate is forbidden. An insult to the gods. But you just couldn’t help but fall deeper. The world dizzying around you as you frolicked around this daydream with him. It was all wrong and you knew that. But why did every second with him feel so right?
The answer, however, slams into you as a cold harsh no. It wasn’t. And it never would. The universe, as cruel as it could be, broke you apart before you could savor it some more. Soon enough the two of you had to part ways, you were going to travel to the U.K. while he was going back to America. The both of you were unwilling to compromise so you found it best to separate.
In your last night together, Mark held you close to his chest. He whispered sweet nothings in your ears, those which were filled with hope and wistful promises. In another world, this would’ve lasted.
“In our next life,” he said, pressing a kiss on your forehead. “I hope it will be ours.”
There, as you wave your hand goodbye like someone would with their lover, Mark smiled down sadly from the ship. His hand held up as well to bid you farewell. The loud horn almost deafening as he began to drift away.
You stood by the docks frozen as the wind began to pick up. You pulled your coat closer, snapping yourself out of your trance. Turning your attention to the sea, the ship was now gone, taking Mark with it. Along with the soulmate bond, promises a lifetime of heartbreaks. You just never thought it would feel this harsh.
United States of America. 1989.
After the day he got his bond, Na Jaemin was even more determined. His life worked like a clock, his daily routines consisted of waking up, helping out in the bakery, sleep and repeat. His parents withered away while Jaemin remained the same. The regulars who came to the bakery changed as well with business slowly dwindling away, wars came and gone and Jaemin managed to live through it all. Jeno accompanied him across the years, both boys living up to the ages of old men but still appeared like they were just about to see the world. When in fact, they’ve seen it all. They travelled around it together, watched history play in front of their eyes, they got to see the world evolve into things they never imagined. But at one point, even Jeno had to leave him.
It was around 1989 in a land now called the United States of America, by this point the first handheld phone was invented. And once it did, no one was more excited for it than Na Jaemin. The words on his wrist finally making sense after years of questioning.
Jaemin didn’t miss any opportunity to subtly drop it whenever he could. This made Jeno laugh every time the phone would end up either broken or, even funnier, stolen. But on the rare instances that the stranger was not an asshole, it was always a “you dropped this” or “your phone dropped” or any version of the words written on his wrist but never those exact words. It was baffling how the universe seemed to love teasing him about who his soulmate is. He blamed himself for being such a hopeless romantic.
Jeno met his soulmate during one of their late night drives across Chicago. It just finished raining and the empty streets were filled with mud. The wind was cold, and the air was still a bit dense. Jaemin had told Jeno to put the roof down so he could recreate one of the scenes in a movie they recently saw. One of the best things people ever invented, he once said in the middle of one. The older just scoffed at his remark, recounting the different times Jaemin had said the same phrase about numerous other things.
Currently preoccupied, Jeno didn’t notice the person standing dangerously close to the edge of the sidewalk nor did he notice the huge puddle of mud he was about to cut through that, unfortunately, lay in front of the person’s feet. The car sped through it, causing a huge splash of brown to befall on the unlucky person.
Jeno abruptly stopped the car to apologise, only to be slapped back with a loud: “nice going, asshole!” before he could even utter out a word.
At that moment, Jeno was in love. Only whispering a small 'wow’ followed by a “you have no idea how long I’ve waited for someone to call me an asshole.” And the rest was history.
Soon Jeno began to age while Jaemin continued being eighteen. When his friend started to have a family of his own, he started trying to live by himself, no more depending on his friend. He hated to admit it but the hundreds of years of living in this world only became bearable to him because Jeno was there. He always thought he’d have his friend by his side no matter what but now that Jeno’s hair was turning gray, he couldn’t help but shiver at the thought of facing another hundred years all by himself.
United States of America. 2030
The time came when Jeno had to finally say goodbye. Jaemin stood next to his friend’s kids as they gently put the casket down. All the people that surrounded him were filled with Jeno’s spouse’s family and friends, some of them looking older than he is while the other half could pass off as his 'peers’. Jaemin was the only one there that was Jeno’s.
It felt odd. Standing amongst strangers that aren’t supposed to be strangers. They should be his friends, yet Jaemin never felt so alone in the middle of a crowd. They lowered Jeno’s coffin but before they could throw the first patch of dirt, Jaemin threw a few purple and blue hyacinths. A symbol for constancy and sincerity.
After the ceremony, Jaemin stared up at the sky. The stars made him feel small as tears escaped his eyes. Some scholars back in his day would often say that the stars were the souls of the dead. Jaemin liked to believe his friend was there. He took in a deep breath, preparing himself to face this world all over again. Only this time, he’d be all alone.
Japan. 2031.
Meanwhile, you were miles away. The day Jaemin lost his friend, you were on your way to make a talk at one of the top universities in the country of Japan and you’d been staying there ever since. It was now the year 2031 and it was rare for someone to live hundreds of years without their soulmate, even rarer that that person played a huge role in history.
The moment the words came to your wrists, the elders in your village knew you were destined to live a long life. You were a strong warrior who fought and defended your country from colonizers. You were also a healer during the revolution and helped some prominent figures in history.
After Mark, you continued to travel the world, mostly alone, and met a handful of friends. Although none of them stuck around long, you enjoyed the temporary company. Still, your mind would always drift back to the young doctor you’ve spent Paris with.
“Anyways, after this you have another talk in Chicago next week so you still have a few days to explore.” Your assistant, Donghyuck said as the two of you walk through the halls.
You scoffed lightly, “I’ve walked through Japan more times than anyone, I feel like I already know it at the back of my hand. In fact, I feel like I know the world at the back of my hand at this point!” You sighed out exhaustively.
“I-I’m sorry…” Donghyuck stuttered out. You frowned at yourself for taking your anger out on the boy. The hundreds of years you’ve walked in this Earth really took a toll on you. You were frustrated with how long this journey was taking, the friends you met through the years have all gone to the stars. The people you used to gush about and talk to have now withered away, leaving you to years of loneliness.
“No, I’m sorry Donghyuck.” You said, giving him an apologetic smile. “I shouldn’t have gone off on you like that… Let’s just get this over with.”
Donghyuck nodded his head. Although his lips were upturned to an encouraging smile, his eyebrows were furrowed in a small frown. A subtle sign of pity.
You couldn’t blame him really, even you would pity yourself if you were in his shoes. Most people meet their soulmate after at least five years after getting the bond—heck some meet theirs after a year if you’re lucky—and that could stretch to at least a hundred but that’s it. You hold the record of being on Earth for the longest time without finding your soulmate, the second one was a guy who lived during Ancient Greece. You don’t really know much about him since he tends to lay low. Unlike you, you liked the money. If you were gonna live for hundreds of years, you atleast want to spend it rich.
After the seminar, you slumped yourself on the comfort of your bed. Hands grabbing hold of the bottle of alcohol sitting on your nightstand. You took a long swig of the drink, the liquid burning down your throat as you swallowed it all. You wiped the spill off your lips, head already spinning and eyes threatening to shut. You wondered how your soulmate was doing, or if he even was alive by now. You could wait for another hundred years but you wished they’d come soon. In your haze, you let the alcohol consume you. Turning to your side as you let go of the bottle to the carpeted floor. You were getting tired of this life anyways.
United States of America. 2031
When you arrived in Chicago, you couldn’t hide the dull look that encompassed your features. A distinguishable difference to the boy next to you, Donghyuck couldn’t help but be giddy at being in a new country. You almost laughed when he ran out of the plane excitedly, jumping around and pointing at things he rarely saw when living in Korea. His reaction made you nostalgic on how you were when you first went to a foreign country. Now it just felt like nothing. The excitement was gone and all that was left was boredom.
You suddenly remembered Mark. He was buried around here. He found his soulmate three years after Paris. You received a letter from him, describing the ecstasy and the warmth and all the things you felt with him. He wished you all the good things, hoping for you to find yours soon just like he did. You spent days in the confines of your room, inconsolable. The world was an unfair place filled with unfair people. Everything, the universe, just loved to watch you burn. You wanted to scream at them, tell them how cruel they were for doing whatever they did. But you could never do that. Not to Mark. Never at Mark.
A year later, you found out he died of tuberculosis. The young doctor didn’t even get the chance to spend a whole lifetime with his soulmate. The world was an unfair place, even to someone like Mark.
“Hey Hyuck, do you know what time the seminar will start tomorrow?” You asked, walking side by side as you made your way to your car.
Donghyuck went silent for a moment, looking through his tablet mindlessly. “Around three pm,” he replied briefly. Ever since you went off on him the week before, you’ve noticed he’s been more cautious with his words around you. You took a mental note to talk to him later.
“Okay, I need to go somewhere beforehand. It’s really important.” You told him. He nodded in reply, muttering an “okay” before turning back to his tablet and continued to scroll through it.
Jaemin had been a wreck. It had been weeks without Jeno and the boy couldn’t even will himself to go outside. He almost didn’t know what the sun felt like on his skin anymore, having drawn his curtains down since the funeral. His supply of ramen, his only source of food at this point, was already starting to go nil which meant he had to get his ass up sooner or later. He groaned to himself, pushing his body off the couch. A strong surge of dizziness attacked his brain because of the sudden movement. His hands instinctively went to his head to ease the pain.
After the sensation faded, he turned to look at himself in the mirror, cringing at his paleness. He splashed water to his face to wash off the oil, grabbed his phone and wallet then left the dingy apartment he called home.
Walking around the city felt strange now. He didn’t know why but something felt different. He chuckled to himself, of course everything was different. The world changed hundreds of years ago when he and Jeno had fled Greece due to the many wars and invasions that were happening. The world changed when he was forced to forget all that he knew and grew up to leave everything behind in order to move forward. The world changed when the people changed, gone were the days when he could get by by just baking bread, now greed roamed rampant and he’d been doing jobs he never even imagined doing back when he was in Greece. His world changed the moment Jeno met his soulmate and he was suddenly thrusted into this world he’d lived all his life in but now felt so foreign. And finally, the world changed when Jeno died. Leaving him on his own while the world continued to move forward. He adapted this far, surely he could do it all again on his own now. Everything felt difficult now. When everything felt difficult back then, he had Jeno. But now Jeno is gone.
He sighed to himself, making a turn to one familiar alley. It felt weird coming back here after weeks. He could almost imagine the ghost of his friend walking alongside him as he made way to the cemetery.
The both of them used to loiter around here a lot, watch the people come and go as they try to decipher their stories. This was where they observed their behaviors; what to do and what not to when they first came here. It was one of the two reasons why they want to be buried here instead of in Greece. They pretty much knew a lot of the names in this cemetery. The people dating back to as early as the 18th century.
His legs felt like they had a mind of their own, dragging the sullen body of Jaemin with it until they’ve reached their destination.
“Hey there,” Jaemin whispered, eyes trained down to the gray slab of stone. “It feels weird not having you around anymore but I’ll be okay. I just stopped by because… Well to be honest I don’t know. I guess I missed you? There, I said it. You’re probably laughing in the sky now or whatever. But yeah I miss you, bud.” He continued to stare at it as if waiting for a response of some sort to come. He shifted in his feet every once in a while. He sighed, “I hope you’re doing okay… wherever you are.”
With that, he turned around, kicking the bunched up pebbles on the ground as he did so. He straightened out the hoodie he was wearing before setting off to leave.
Mark’s grave was located at the farthest point of the cemetery. His was one of the oldest and most well kept graves in the section since you try to visit him whenever you were in the country, which was about at least once every two years.
The wind felt soft against your skin, making you hum at the touch. The sky was a beautiful shade of blue, adorned with white puffy clouds and a bright rayed sun. It was the perfect day. You could hardly remember when you felt this calm on such a day. Usually, these weather conditions made you nostalgic of how the world was back then but today felt different. You couldn’t quite put your finger as to why.
The leaves crunched with every step you took. You managed to look around the cemetery, seeing a handful of new gravestones as you walked. You could barely remember this part as an open field back then, now it was almost filled. However, in a field full of tombstones and dead leaves, one person stood on top of it. He was a bit far from you, almost a speck in the field. He had this weird aura around him, almost drawing you in without doing anything.
You found yourself hypnotised by the figure, your legs turning to the direction of the man. What was once a speck in the distance soon became a clear form of a sad man, and oh my god he was beautiful. He had blue hair, like the sky. His eyes, although you could barely catch a glimpse of it, looked like it could hold the sun with the way it shone. His lips, downturned to a frown, made you want to come up to him for a smile. You’ve never been so enthralled by a person before. Your heart pounded in your ribcage and you were afraid that he could hear it.
He straightened himself up, your eyes suddenly distracted to the thing that fell off from one of his pockets. You rushed to him just as he was about to leave, quickly grabbing the object then tapping his shoulder.
“You dropped your phone.”
Jaemin stopped in his tracks. He turned his head to the soft voice. His eyes took in every single feature of your face, taking in every freckle, mole, eyelash and all the small details. He wanted to memorize it all.
He couldn’t believe it. There you were, in front of him in all your glory. He could feel the tears well up in his eyes as he stared at you.
You smiled at him awkwardly, eyes shifting as you wonder what was happening. Your hand—the one that wasn’t holding his phone—made its way to the ends of his shoulders, snapping him back to reality. Although he wasn’t really sure if this was actually reality. He wondered if this was just one fucked up dream he’s having. Another cruel joke the universe decided to pull on him. He pinched himself just to check.
Your eyes furrowed at the action. An awkward laugh left your throat at the weird interaction. Any normal person would have left at this point already but you found yourself mounted on the spot. His magnetic aura pulls you in even at the scary behavior he’s exuding. Something about him felt familiar.
His hand took yours that was still on his shoulder. He held it with such gentleness, it almost made you blush, an electrifying feeling travelling up to your heart that was still pounding in your chest. His free hand then went to the side of your face, making you grip the phone that you were still holding. Your breath now caught in your throat as he stared at you with so much love, you felt the butterflies storming in your guts.
Was this what Mark meant in his letters? The familiarity? The magnetizing aura? All these ran through your head as you stared at the stranger in disbelief. Tears welled up on the sides of your eyes, a shaky breath leaving your lips. Suddenly, you felt his arms around your form, a relieved sigh leaving his lips as he held you. An overwhelming euphoria washed over your bodies as you hugged him back, closing your eyes to savor the feeling of having him in your arms.
“I’ve waited lifetimes for you to find me.”
No matter how long it takes and no matter what the circumstances may be. The phenomenon when two souls, meant for each other, finally meet is always worth it.
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