#shards of the moon and stars

[artflameball]

Got a commission to do my favorite wlw ship, so I decided to do my OCs, Reya and Skylar :] I get a chance to show their new designs now, which is neat!

[i only posted this because someone donated money to palestine and sent me the receipt. i'm not posting any art unless someone does that. check my pinned post for more info.]

[asklesbianonceler]

✨𝒫𝒶𝓈𝓈𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒻𝓁𝒶𝓈𝒽𝑒𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇𝓁𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉✨

[kandidandi]

i think cinematic senarios with the dca ai’s are the best actually

[burningblake]

there are some funny scenes, and I love the han leia ben moments, but other than that, this book is boring, I'm struggling

[onlyswan]

summary: in which you want to turn back the clock and jungkook wants you to stay.

idol!jungkook x reader, est. relationship / angst, fluff / word count: 5.8k

content/warnings: mistreatment of service workers / oc felt inappropriately touched by a customer (only mentioned in passing) / (oc works part-time in a restaurant) (then quits) / another dive into oc’s lore / allusion to death / grief grief grief / lots of crying :( / jk wants to move in together :") / mention of s*x (24/7=heaven?) / mention of period blood (they’re in diff contexts js to be clear lol) / u will get pissed and cry and laugh it’s fun <3

playlist! knees - iu ; chinese satellite - phoebe bridgers ; love wins all - iu

> in which masterlist

note: contains lil flashblacks from the giving up drabbles ^^ can be found in the timeline masterlist above this incase u haven’t read them and want to ^^ listen to love wins all when jungkook tells oc to wear their seatbelt (trust me). tried to encapsulate the epiphany of oh. everything’s going to be okay because i am loved when i’m at my lowest. as always reblogs & feedback are appreciated :") come chat!!

—

the rusty swing-set creaks as you unsteadily swing back and forth, staring lifelessly at your white socks and shoes stained with burnt orange. you look up to the sky but the moon and the stars are shrouded by the clouds. not even your favorite snack can poison your sadness with optimism. mouthful of bungeoppang, but you taste nothing, and every swallow only adds to the heaviness weighing on your chest.

your shift should be ending by now, which means you probably should be heading home, but your limbs have given up and refuses to move.

jungkook’s special ringtone ceaselessly disrupts the night scene’s quiet, but there’s no point in answering his calls when you know no words would come out of you.

“are you an imbecile?! you can’t understand basic instructions?!”

“ma’am, i’m so sorry. i’ll take it back and give you the right ord-”

“we’re fucking starving! move faster!”

you flinch as the bowl collides with the tiled floor, producing an ear-splitting sound that reverberates throughout the entire restaurant. you want to give the woman the benefit of the doubt and believe that she just shoved the bowl a little too harshly due to her frustration, but you have a hand over your mouth not due to shock, but the inexplicable pain of having your skin burnt by the piping hot soup… and she’s just… there.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry! please understand. she’s just in a bad mood. she’s not- she’s not usually like this.”

you stand on your spot, frozen and speechless, as her husband profusely apologizes. you’re only jolted out from trance when you feel him wiping your legs with crumpled tissue papers, a little too farther up for your comfort. a fleeting tug-of-war ensues when you forcefully rip them away from his hands. you thank him despite not meaning it.

you grip the edge of your skirt as you sit on your heels, picking up the broken shards of glass scattered across the floor. a concerned co-worker swoops in with a broom and you instantly jump the opportunity to save yourself from the mortifying stares, mumbling another thank you as you take your leave.

“you said table six.”

“____, i’m sorry. that was a fault on my part.”

your manager observes your current state. his stare lingers at your feet.

“but they don’t know that! she literally burnt me!”

“look, we don’t have to take this too far. it couldn’t have been that hot. we can see you’re still walking.” his condescending tone makes you feel so small, but it fuels the anger inside of you. “you don’t have to pay for the damages, so let’s just put this behind us.”

you gasp in disbelief, and it borders on a laugh. you feel crazy. you can’t believe this is actually happening to you. he can’t be fucking serious.

the workers in the kitchen remain quiet as tension arises, minds a tornado of thoughts but mouths remaining shut in fear of getting on the bad side of their superior.

“well you…” you hastily strip off your apron, bunching it up into one big ball. “don’t have to pay me anymore, because i fucking quit! i hope this place burns down!”

and you ensure that it hits him on the face before you turn around to march out of the kitchen. on the way out of the restaurant, you nonchalantly grab a bottle of water from the fridge, twisting off the cap as you push the door open. you leave a wet trail behind your steps as you pour the cold water over your feet, a poor attempt to soothe the sharp pain of the injury.

you know it will be alright eventually; you will heal, but this… this is leaving a permanent scar on your dignity.

with a vexed groan, you retrieve your vibrating phone from your pocket.

LAST EVICTION NOTICE— you do not even bother reading the rest of the words that come after that.

“fuck!” you scream, throwing the bottle at the nearest wall, hands coming up to your hair to roughly pull in frustration. the heels of your palm dig into your eyes and your knees give way to the ground. “this is a nightmare.”

it dawns on you that you’ve finally arrived at a surface on the rock bottom that you so awfully dread. you find yourself standing here— infront of the atm machine, staring blankly at the large number displayed on the screen. this money isn’t yours. this didn’t come from your blood, sweat, and tears. it’s an amount that you’re supposed to accept as a payment for the eulogies you had to deliver. you swore you would never do this, but desperate times come when you’re forced to swallow your pride and allow it to rot you from the inside.

you’re once again faced with the ugly difference between surviving and living.

you grab the cash, hastily pushing them inside the pocket of your jacket as if you’re being burnt by them. you feel so nauseous; if only emptying your stomach would untangle its knots.

you don’t need anything from anyone. this is the first and the last time, you swear to yourself in place of your defeated oath.

you don’t want jungkook to see you like this, helpless and hollow, the antonym of the sun he willingly flew too close to. you look pathetic seeking for solace in an abandoned playground, unfortunate soul stuck at fifteen, in denial of the passage of time.

but there goes your lover running towards you, calling out your name, and you begin praying for yourself to disappear into thin air.

much to your disappointment, no wiser being grants your plea, and now you have a man tucking you in his safe embrace, uncaring of his knees being bruised by the ground.

does he need to surprise you when you least anticipate his presence?

“i’ve been looking everywhere for you! i went to pick you up at the restaurant but they told me that you quit! what happened?”

he pulls away, tenderly cupping your cheeks in his warm hands.

“was it your boss again? it’s him, isn’t it? what did he do?”

jungkook dies a little inside. your glassy eyes study his face, a clear picture of distress and concern, but at the same time, they seem so far away… like you’re not certain if you’re truly here.

you unconsciously squirm— your feet retract themselves, escaping underneath the swing; and your ankles twist, and twist, one hiding behind the other.

this doesn’t feel like being stripped naked.

you feel like you’re being turned inside out.

“what’s wrong? baby…” he utters sadly as tears drip from your lashes—one by one— even they are lost and hesitant.

your distant stare remains.

he doesn’t know if you’re even aware that you’re crying. it’s a frightening sight and he doesn’t know what else to do. he holds you in his arms but you feel too stiff for this to be comfortable. the time passes, and he lets it do so in silence.

he waits for you to come back to him.

he waits, and waits, and waits.

“jungkook… i want to go home.”

“okay. i’ll bring you home, baby.” he strokes your hair, breathing out in relief. “yours? or mine?”

only for his world to crumble into pieces.

“my mom…” you whisper, breathless, releasing yourself from his embrace. “i want to be with my mom.”

and only then does he see traces of emotions written on your face.

“i miss my mom so much.”

the crack of your voice gives him an opening to catch a glimpse of your heart, that is but a mosaic of broken parts. pain, grief, longing… the past two years haven’t been enough to make him well-acquainted with the anatomy of your afflictions. he has only witnessed you speak of your family with a proud and affectionate beam; old stories that spark the agent of joy. and despite knowing that you must’ve been battling your pain all these years all alone, he couldn’t bring himself to meddle with how you handled your grief. however, if he’s going to be completely truthful, he was terrified of this— of seeing you so unmoored and broken. his pain is no comparison. quite frankly, it is an insult to yours.

“i miss her so, so, so much. what do i do? i…” you sobs become uncontrollable, overcome by the weight of the world crashing down on you.

how is it possible that you feel nothing and too much at the same time? is what you would often ask before, but today you realize that your pain simply goes beyond what any of your human parts is able to fathom.

“this is too hard… it’s too tiring. i can’t- i can’t. i don’t want to be here anymore. i’m always so scared. i don’t know what i’m doing anym-”

“shh, shhh, baby- baby, breathe for me-”

“how did my life end up like this? i don’t understand! the world- it’s so cruel- i can’t stand it.”

jungkook wipes away your tears, but it’s no use. once you break down, it becomes impossible to remedy. nonetheless, that doesn’t deter your boyfriend from trying. he gathers your weeping and trembling vessel in an attempt to glue you back together, and in while doing so, he also wills himself to be strong for you.

“why did she have to go after them and leave me all alone here? am i not her child too?”

the obtuse questions you’ve been too afraid to ask out loud are being brought out in the open, spilling out from the torn seams of your soul as they’ve become too agonizing to annihilate over and over and over again.

you know the answer. you know she didn’t want to leave.

but you can’t help but to be angry at the fact that her heart gave up. you don’t understand why it had to happen and why you’re being grinded in the mouth of the world.

“i’m tired, i’m so tired. it’s so unfair… i need her with me too…”

jungkook squeezes his eyes shut, gently rocking your tangled bodies — a defense mechanism. you’re succumbing to defeat as if it’s been long overdue; even your voice is giving up on you.

if he had to imagine, the earth must have shared his current dread when it witnessed a solar eclipse for the first time, wired to assume the worst of perpetual darkness.

“jungkook…”

your weak fists desperately grasping at the fabric of his hoodie— the final thread you are hanging on. your words break into stutters and hiccups, salty tears slipping past your lips and stirring their bitter taste.

“i just want to go and be my mom’s child again.”

and he would truly fucking hate to try and get into the implication of your words, but if jungkook is going to be completely truthful— he is terrified beyond words can say. of this; of witnessing you slip away from everything you’ve ever known; of losing you. maybe he’s being selfish, but whatever it takes, he will make you stay.

he swallows the lump in his throat, hurriedly drying his eyes with his sleeve before facing you.

“listen to me, okay…?” his voice isn’t enough to pull your head from underwater; he lightly taps your cheek, even though it breaks his heart. “hey, hey, hey. look at me, baby- look at me.”

he searches for your eyes, begging them to focus on him. and it’s silly, what he does next, pressing a kiss to your lips as if this is a fairytale. but then it works— you tilt your head to subtly nuzzle your cheek against his palm— and he has to quickly recover from being taken aback. you effortlessly make a slave out of his heart.

“you never stopped being her child. and that will never happen! because even with them being gone, you haven’t stopped trying your best to be a good child and older sibling to them. i… i’m a witness to that. every single day. are you hearing me?”

can he get some sort of sign whether he is doing this right or wrong?

“you’re not alone here because you have me. you do know that, right?”

and you want to believe him… you do. but just like how you’re clinging onto him right now for dear life, you can’t forget how you had to beg him to stay.

“so stop working all these jobs! please, i’m begging you! it must also break your mom’s heart to see you torturing yourself like this. it’s not healthy! just focus on studying and let me take away your burdens, please?”

you stop breathing; your features soften like you’ve made it out of a nightmare.

“jungkook…”

“let’s live together, baby.” he sounds sure; he sounds steady, but the waver of his eyes beseeches you. “you’ve been so good to me, even when i didn’t deserve it. please… let me love you in my own way too.”

“stop. i told you… i’m still thinking about it.” you say meekly, avoiding his intense gaze. “i mean, let’s be honest. what would your family even think of me? your aunt already hates me. what if she uses this to prove that she was right about me and-”

“fuck what everyone else thinks. i couldn’t care less.”

the reminder of the disrespect you were subjected to because of him has him seething all over again. his jaw clenches in anger, and he feels obligated to take a deep breath so he can keep himself composed. growing up, he was always taught to be the bigger person, but he simply can’t implore himself to do that if it means turning a blind eye to your hurt.

“i won’t let her get away with that type of bullshit so don’t even bother thinking about her anymore. i’ll take care of it. we can’t let that get into our heads. right, baby? we said that?” his thumb caresses your cheek softly, and you hold on to his wrist, silent as you try to understand him through the thick haze clouding your mind. “i want to be with the person i love. how could that be so wrong?”

you slowly shake your head in response, a little hesitant.

“i won’t leave again. no matter how hard you push me away, i will stay within your reach.”

and here he is, kneeling infront of you, seeking to make true of what he solemnly vowed to you.

are you going to take this away from him? after everything you’ve gone through together?

he is the only thing you have left to lose.

“i love you.” you whisper, initiating the hug this time.

you’re holding him tight, like you don’t ever want to let go, and it brings jungkook to the brink of tears once more.

“i love you so much.”

he sweetly kisses your cheek, but when you pull away to give him that look, a wordless command for more, his lips finally meet yours for the first time in forty-eight hours. they slowly curve into a smile, not at all surprised that he’s tasting sugar. he’d go through hell and back to experience this kind of kiss one time, only to do it all over again.

“let’s go home?”

you blink at him cluelessly. you don’t know why he’s wearing a dimpled smile out of the blue, neither do you know which home he is referring to. nevertheless, you intertwine your fingers with his, choosing to save yourself from this forlorn neverland.

there’s just… one teeny… tiny problem…

“shit,” you mutter to yourself, freezing on your tracks.

“what’s wrong?”

you awkwardly glance down at your shoes, the origin of the squeaky sound that was impossible to be missed by your ears. after inspecting you from head to toe, a worried expression morphs on his face, and you can only show him a shy wince in response.

“i don’t want to make your car dirty.”

“baby…”

his chest feels so much heavier. he is nearly blinded with red. he wants to scream and be infuriated. what the fuck happened back there?

you merely shrug, sending him a forced smile. “do you still have those extra slippers?”

—

“jungkook, i can do it myself.”

he clicks his tongue, his hand around your calf gripping. “stay still!”

you watch him from the passenger seat, your legs dangling from the edge as he carefully takes off your shoes and socks, yet again kneeling on the ground.

“does it hurt a lot?”

“not… a lot.” you answer through gritted teeth.

perhaps the stinging never did quell; it was just pushed to the back of your mind when more painful things surfaced succeeding it.

“who did this to you, huh? i need to go back there and make them pay! what kind of decent human being would do that?!”

“a miserable woman in a miserable marriage.”

in her eyes, you may be naive and she, the decades old wiser— but who is the one with a lover who would wash not their dirty hands, but their feet that have walked a million miles?

“i feel bad for her.” you comment absentmindedly.

you’re too far deep in awe watching jungkook gingerly clean your bare feet with his hands and a bottle of cool water, doing what you were meant to do earlier, if only granted that you weren’t erupting with rage.

“____, you’re too nice.”

“you’re too nice.” you argue. “also, those shoes are hopeless. just throw them away.”

he glances at you with fondness, shaking his head as he softly pats you dry with a clean towel. you stifle a gasp. it’s no longer as bad as before, but your skin still feels warm and raw. this wasn’t in the job description. you decide that you can practice empathy, as well as your strong belief in karma, at the same time. at this moment, you hope that the universe is already crafting tricks up its sleeve, because you’re in a world of fucking pain.

“there you go. wait until we get off the car before you wear the slippers, alright? and you’re not allowed to wear tight shoes.”

he rises to his feet, not wasting the opportunity to steal a kiss.

“yeah, it was wildly uncomfortable.” you mumble against his lips, tugging at his collar to properly respond to his display of affection. “thank you.”

“wear your seatbelt.” his eyes shines with a glint of with uncontainable excitement. “we’re going home.”

—

you stir as jungkook gently shakes your body awake, his muffled voice gradually becoming clearer as you gain your consciousness.

“wake up, baby. we’re here.”

you tiredly rub off the sleep from your swollen eyes, discovering your boyfriend waiting for you where the door of the passenger seat should be.

“let’s get you some more rest.” he places a chaste kiss on your forehead, before standing aside to make way for you, offering his hand as a gentleman.

you must still be dreaming. you assumed he would bring you to his apartment, but you do not recognize this place. this is a different parking space, a different parking lot.

“um… t-this is…” you stumble on your words, feeling lost. “where are we?”

“home,” he smiles, the kind that reaches his eyes and turn them into little crescent moons.

you must still be dreaming. the clock attached to a nearby pillar strikes midnight, and unbeknownst to you, a brand new day awaits beyond the dark and empty sky.

you were so thoroughly convinced that you’ve been living a life past the point of salvation… but life stands before you overflowing with hope and glowing with ardor.

you take his hand and allow him to whisk you away to another world.

—

this is beginning to feel real, jungkook thinks as he presses the elevator button. earlier’s excitement becomes interweaved with nervousness. he’s a little dizzy as the giant box ascends. if you feel his hand’s growing clamminess, you don’t show it, your clasp still as firm as before.

“you bought another house…”

“hmm, but this one is a secret.” a confession that is yours truly. “this one is ours.”

your eyes wordlessly speak with each other. neither of you imagined following your hearts could materialize your future plans to the present time. what goes beyond dreaming of beautiful things is still foreign to the both of you, but jungkook is here, willing to free fall with you.

the elevator dings.

he guides you through a well-lit hallway, to a door, and you pay close attention as he punches in the passcode— another set of numbers you ought to have memorized alongside birthdays and anniversaries and id numbers.

your heart races but everything else moves in slow motion. the door opens and you get swallowed by the need to remember every moment so vividly as if you’re reliving it.

the first time you set foot into your own apartment,, the empty space daunted you despite its modest dimensions. however, right now, your head is tracing half of a circle, from left to right, just to study this large space in its entirety— and all you can think about are the endless possibilities forming intimate images of a sanctuary in your head— a place where fears and sadness can co-exist with tenderness and joy.

beside you, jungkook patiently holds your hand.

“this one is ours…” you repeat the words, more so to convince yourself, and they drip with disbelief.

you follow his lead as he walks to the other half of the room, bare feet sliding across the floor.

“this is the living room, and the other side is the kitchen.”

he faces you with a wide grin, the kind he wears when he wants to tell you something he is proud of.

“i was thinking that if we get a big television bolted on the wall…”

he gestures to the blank canvas, letting go of your hand to draw an invisible rectangle on the air with his arms fully outstretched.

“then we can easily watch even from the kitchen.”

he puffs up his chest, side-eyeing you expectantly.

“genius, right?”

“and greedy.” you blink. “i don’t think that’s safe to do while you’re cooking.”

“but i’ll be very, very careful!”

“that’s the bare minimum when you’re holding a knife.”

“okay! i look forward to arguing with you about that on a different day!”

his enthusiasm doesn’t waver. in fact, it is fueled. how could it not? when you’re starting to sound exactly like a couple who lives together?

he captures your wrist and tugs you towards the other side of the room, but you pull him back with a noise of protest.

“are we not going to address…” you hang on to your words, eyes wandering to the floor where there are signs of living. “whatever is going on here?”

a single mattress with a single pillow; a folded blanket neatly sitting on top of it. surrounding them are bottles of water, a laptop, a speaker, and a basket of what you assume are skincare products.

“i’ve been sleeping here lately…”

“i can see that.”

“i didn’t want to buy furnitures yet while you haven’t given me an answer… i just thought that if we’re living together, then we should decide on those things as a couple.”

…he dips down to kiss you. “it was hell without you…”

his teeth captures your bottom lip, nipping at the supple flesh.

“going to build a life with you. i’ll build furniture, and they’re going to be ours.”

jungkook feels your stare. oblivious of your thoughts reigning chaos, he tilts his head in question.

how long has he been planning this?

“you okay?”

you blink away the tears brimming your eyes. you shake your head, clinging to his arm. “where were you taking me?”

“this is the kitchen!”

a smile of contentment graces your lips. you’re guilty of admiring the pure, unadulterated joy on jungkook’s face instead of what he is passionately endorsing to you.

“this is the fridge!” he presents to you, swinging the door open. “but there’s nothing inside.”

“what are you saying? there is something.”

the two of you peer at the green can of soda, chilsung cider, left at a far corner. the refrigerator light casts over your curious faces.

“oh, that’s still there?”

the animated sound of your giggles prompts him to look at you, and he couldn’t be more glad to be laughing with you again, bellies aching at the same time.

“do you want it?”

“it’s not peach.”

“let’s move on then!”

there are cups of ramyeon and packs of dried seaweed on the countertop, the photo of his dinner that he sent last night still vivid in your memory. your hand daintily brushes across the white marble, stealing a feel as jungkook drags you to a new space.

“this is the second kitchen and laundry room!”

he waits for a reaction as you survey the room and its overhead cabinets.

“it’s not supposed to be the pantry…? eh, you know what? cooking and doing laundry are more of your thing so you can have them however you want.”

you turn on your heel to walk away, and jungkook follows behind you, celebrating his victory by punching the air and whisper-shouting a yeah!

“what’s here?”

you reach another hallway beside the living room.

“what’s here?” he zooms past you to open a door. “bathroom. there’s a bathtub! but i still need to install grip bars so no one will slip.”

he needs to stop saying things that make you want to make him your husband on the spot.

“and we have my favorite part! the master bedroom, of course!” he swings the door open on the other side. “where else would we spend the most time in?”

“wow, really? i thought you were also endorsing the living room as the bedroom.” you jokingly quirk an eyebrow.

“nonsense!” he cheekily chides you. “you deserve better than that.”

you take a step, peeking inside the empty room that you estimate to be as twice as larger than yours. you can’t say that you care so much about its size, because behind the white curtains, you reel at the prospect of the natural light shining over your face every time you wake up. your mornings have been gloomy since you arrived at seoul four years ago.

he sneaks his arms around your waist, your back resting against his chest, and your being feels so light you might just begin floating when he lets go.

“let’s stay like this for a while.”

“okay,” he puts his chin on top of your shoulder, his soft smile becoming permanent.

the two of you stand at the bedroom’s doorway; the cusp of what could be your entire lives.

“what’s that other room?”

“which one?”

“i don’t know. i see it from the side of my eye.”

he cackles at your humorous nonchalance. “i have more to show you. there’s a guest room… if we decide it to be.”

“cute. i have somewhere else to sleep when i’m mad at you.”

“that’s fine,” he replies after a beat of silence. “at least i’d know where to find you.”

“don’t make me change my mind.”

he cries out your name childishly, burying his face by the crook of your neck. he hugs you tighter. he wants to sleep every night drowning in the sweet scent of your hair. if he had to choose, it would be the most peaceful way to go.

“we have a walk-in closet too!”

“i expected nothing less.” you giggle, not a stranger to his lifestyle. “what’s exciting is that we can finally have a big bed.”

“but i like our small beds.”

“cuddling isn’t all that fun during the summer. trust me, you’d eventually want space.”

“nuh-uh! that’s what aircons are for!”

you roll your eyes at his persistence. “then why did you choose such a huge apartment if you wanted a small bed?”

“so we can have all the space to slow-dance to love songs.”

jungkook, ever the charmer. the butterflies in your stomach come alive beneath his embrace.

“why are you suddenly quiet?” he laughs. “was that too cheesy?”

“no!”

“really?” he spins you around, and heat creeps to your cheeks when he leans in so close that you can perfectly distinguish the brown in his eyes. “so have you given it more thought?”

“given what more thought?”

“there’s nothing to be scared of. it’s only the two of us here, see?” he tells you like overeager puppy. “will you move in with me?”

if this is a dream, you wish to never wake up from it. to have a person care for you this deeply and unconditionally, you want to believe that you have done something right to deserve it.

“i just don’t think you understand what you’re getting yourself into.”

his eyebrows knit together in defense. “what does that mean?”

“the thing is… yeah, sex 24/7 and cuddling and having first times together, that sounds amazing and all… but living with me would probably drive you crazy.”

a tired yawn almost interrupts the end of your sentence, and you cover your face out of courtesy. you sniffle and wipe your teary eyes with the back of your hand.

“i’ve lived on my own for so long. i’m messy and clumsy and i’m used to having everything my way… i mean… i’m willing to compromise, but i can’t promise i won’t be insufferable as hell about it.”

“ah, seriously! you scared me for nothing!” he exclaims, throwing his head back with a groan. “baby, i’ve been living with six other men for the past decade. you know that there was a time when we even slept together in one small room. can you imagine how that must’ve been like for a bunch of teenage boys…? you? messy? think about it again. living with you can’t possibly get worse than that. you don’t have to worry about me! really, i can take it! watch me!”

“but i bleed every month.”

“i’m a man. seeing a little blood doesn’t faze me.”

you make a face. “it’s actually a lot.”

“yah, why are you acting like we haven’t been together for two years?”

“it’s different living together!”

“it’s only natural! i don’t care!”

a noise of complaint bubbles in your throat when he shakes you by your shoulders, coaxing you with an whiny “please baby.”

your chest deflates in defeat. “sure, i guess… as long as we have the big bed, and the slow-dancing-”

“done!” he doesn’t waste his breath, not keen on wasting this opportunity. “anything you want, you have it!”

you narrow your eyes. “and i’ll keep my tutoring job.”

“will you punch the next guy that insists you study at his dorm for me?”

“or i can just keep saying no firmly, baby boy.”

and with that pet name, he instantly folds. “okay.”

“okay?”

“okay, since that’s the only one that you genuinely like.”

“you-” your teeth unconsciously finds your bottom lip to dig into, and you inhale sharply. “…you really love me, don’t you?”

suddenly, you’re raising your voice and waving your hands in the air. you’re feeling too many emotions at once; it’s like when you mix all the colors in a palette and end up creating black. you’re angry and happy and you may be fucking crying again.

“you were just picking up speakers one night and a pretty stranger offers you some boring food and now you want to be stuck with me forever?”

your fist throws a restrained punch to his chest, shoving him backwards.

“oh my god, you’re so stupid!”

jungkook finds this too amusing, tries to hide that he is enjoying this but a smirk is plastered on his face.

“you are loved by so many,” he brushes away the hair that has fallen over your eyes. he tucks them behind you ears and tenderly holds your face in his warm hands. “but i’m confident that i love you the most.”

you are the muse in his dreams. your perfume clings to his clothes. you make him the happiest man on the planet and your pain torments him. what is this, if not love?

“and if that makes me the stupid one? then so be it.”

“when did it become a competition?”

“since you got yourself a competitive boyfriend!”

“okay, fine! let’s make it my fault!”

you throw your arms around his neck, peppering kisses all over his face until he’s an uncontainable giggling mess.

“i’m drowning in kisses! nobody help!”

and you hope you’re hugging him close enough that he can feel the love and gratitude flowing through your veins. your eyes flutter shut, and you sigh— tranquility triumphs over chaos.

“are you falling asleep standing up again?”

“no!” you blatantly lie, drawing back with innocence masking your drowsiness. “we still need to go online shopping!”

“what are we buying?”

your face lights up. “appliances first?”

“appliances?” he cheerfully says. “sure! let’s get you new shoes too!”

as he gets dragged to the living room where his laptop is, he mumbles something with an enamored expression. “i should keep working hard.”

—

“yah, why are looking at me like that?” jungkook chuckles upon feeling your poorly concealed stare, diverting his attention away from the laptop over his stomach. “i’m the real deal. the tv is over there, on the screen.”

“just because…”

you snuggle closer to his side, heart fluttering when his arm that is your pillow moves to also hold you. you don’t really mind a small bed. this is the most favorable consequence a nuisance could have.

“i feel sorry.”

“sorry? for what?”

“because i made you sad, didn’t i? i hate that so much.” you sniffle, hand coming up to pat his cheek affectionately. “i know it must be hard for you too.”

“you’re the one who’s in a lot of pain.” he means to firmly speak, but the tremble of his voice rudely refuses to cooperate. “how could you even think of me feeling sad?”

“because i love you. of course i always think of you.” you argue, bottom lip jutting out into a pout. “i can’t do that now?”

he sighs. “you know that’s not what i meant.”

a kiss is planted on your forehead— tender and cherishing.

“let’s be happy, baby.”

the sharp edges of jungkook’s fears are eroded in a way. in a universe that relentlessly challenges you to be optimistic, your heart that is well-versed in loving continues to rise above it all.

you echo his words wistfully. “let’s be happy.”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

[astraystayyh]

If the world was ending

Felix x reader. Estranged childhood best friends to lovers. Angst and happy ending. highly recommend listening to If the world was ending while reading :)

Felix has always been there with you, from the moment you've met him when you were 8 years old, until he suddenly no longer was, and you were left to grapple with the consequences of his absence- and those of his return.

cw: description of a car accident, reader has a fear of loud noises.

skz song series masterlist

12 march 2011 

Screeching brakes, a jarring collision, glass shattering all around you, shards of it embedding into your tender skin. You are too young to understand it all, but you know it's bad. You are suddenly upside down, the only thing helping you stay put is the seatbelt fastened around you. You didn't really like seatbelts but your mom always insisted on you wearing one.

Your mom, you can't see her face, she's upside down too, and she isn't talking. That's unusual because you're crying and she isn't turning around to comfort you. Someone is screaming outside of your car, and then you are pulled out. You don't know who's touching you, and you want them to stop. Where is your mom? Why did they not pull her out too?

An ambulance approaches you; its loud sirens feel like pine needles drilling into your skull. You try to cover your ears but your hands are covered in blood. The world around you is painted red- the flashing lights of the sirens and the liquid oozing from your cuts. It’s no longer your favorite color.

27 may 2011 

You are playing in the playground near your home, waving at your mom from the top of the slide. She's gotten better, she smiles more easily at you now. And you are trying to be a good kid too; you help wash the dishes and you clean your room all by yourself. You don't want your mom to feel sad again and go back to that dreaded hospital. 

You slide out, happy giggles leaving your mouth, before climbing up the tiny stairs once again. But as you reach the top, an ambulance rushes by the playground. You don't know what's happening, but you suddenly feel shards of glass on your skin once again. Your hands are shaking as you sit on the floor, curling around yourself in a ball.  

"What's wrong?" someone asks and you lift your head tentatively. It's a young boy, he's looking at you worriedly, a tiny pout on his lips. 

"I don't like ambulances," you hiccup, burying your head in your knees again. 

Suddenly, small hands cover your ears, muffling the shrill sound of sirens. They are warm and sticky from the red popsicle he’s still holding.

"Now you can't hear them," he giggles, his eyes disappearing into moon crescents. Despite your raging fear, a smile finds its way into your lips.

"What's those on your face," you ask with a small voice, pointing at the faint marks dusting his cheeks. 

"They're called freckles," he says proudly and you nod. 

"They're pretty."

"Thank you!" he grins at you, his hands still covering your ears. The tightness in your chest seems to dissipate slowly before his kind smile- the shadows never stood a chance in front of the sun. 

"What's your name?" 

"Felix. And you?"

"Yn." 

"We should be friends," he beams and you grin back, agreeing wholeheartedly. "We should." 

15 november 2021 

You are sitting on the grass of that very same playground, Felix still by your side. The night breeze is cooling as it brushes against your bodies, and you're wearing his red sweater. It smells like his cologne and your perfume- an intoxicating scent you've come to memorize by heart. 

His nose tip is rosy from the cold, and you can't resist tapping it playfully. "Your nose is pink," you giggle, and he smiles, gently bopping yours in return. 

"So is yours."

You look at him as he gazes up at the stars above. You love Felix, it has always been crystal clear to you. From the moment he planted the seed of his friendship into your soul, and throughout the years when it bloomed into something more, bigger than the two of you. It wrapped around your being entirely, binding itself into your every atom, until all you saw is his reflection in you. 

And you were tired of treading the line between friendship and something more. You wanted, no craved being with him, your yearning so intense it spilled from you each time he was around. In rosy cheeks and shaky fingers and eyes that soften only when they rest on him- evidence of your love imprinted all upon you. 

You take in a deep breath, before laying your hand gently on his cheek, turning his face to meet yours. His eyes widen slightly at the soft touch, and you lean in closer to him. You brush your nose against his, slowly, "to warm it up," you whisper, as his breath hitches in his throat. 

He's close, he's so close, you can almost taste the brownies you shared earlier on his lips. You can see his freckles ever so clearly, constellations you often find yourself getting lost in. Your hand is still on his cheek, and you can feel it burning up under your palm. 

You close your eyes, as his lips are now just a breath away from yours. It's electrifying- having him so near to the way you've always dreamed, fantasized about. But he needs to be the one to take the jump, all he has to do is lean in a bit, and you'd kiss him. You won't ever let go. 

"Lixie...," you choke out, "kiss me." 

"I want to." His voice is hoarse with emotion, as if fighting with himself for self-restraint. 

"So do it," you ask, swiping your thumb gently across his cheek. Your breaths mingle with one another in a dizzying dance. 

"I'm leaving," he says so faintly, you believe for a second that you've imagined it. 

"What?" you ask, leaning a bit away to be able to look at him. 

"I'm leaving," he repeats, his eyes tightly shut. "We're moving to another country, for my dad's job." 

"You're leaving me?" you ask, bewildered. 

"I'm not leaving you-"

"But you are. You won't be here anymore." You drop your hand, taking hurried steps away from him. Touching him didn't feel electrifying anymore, it felt horrible and nauseous, because you won't get to do it again. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to-" 

"How long have you known?" 

"Yn..."

"Felix," you say, tone stern. "How long?" 

"Six months," he whispers and a bitter chuckle escapes your lips.

"When are you leaving?"

"In a week." 

The pain becomes unbearable, and you turn your back to him so he wouldn't see your rapidly falling tears. You are angry, as a disguise for the sadness threatening to drown you. Him leaving tasted like the salty water you gulp when you dive in too quickly into the ocean. And you did dive in, in him, in his soul and everything that made up Felix. And now he was leaving you, with no anchor to help you float again.

"Is that why you insisted on spending so much time with me lately? Because you were leaving?" 

"You need to understand I didn't know how to tell you, I- I don't even know who I am without you." He pleads, his own eyes shimmering with unshed tears, reminding you of tiny diamonds. That's how it is with Felix, you found beauty in everything he did- even tearing your heart in half. 

"Maybe you should've thought of how I would feel. You were thinking of leaving me while I..." Your voice breaks and you take a shaky breath.  "While I was falling in love with you." 

"I'm in love with you too," he quickly says, reaching out to hold your hand. "I love you, I always have." He's wrapping his arms around you, and you're letting him because it feels safe and secure. Because he’s still your Felix, even if he's leaving you behind. 

You wonder what you must have done in a past life, what a horrible person you could've been for the universe to treat you this cruelly. To hand you everything you've ever wanted in a silver platter, and snatch it from your hands before you could dare to grab it. 

"We'll make it work," he mumbles into your hair, placing a tender kiss on your temple. "We'll talk and we can be together."

"No, we can't. I'll just hold you back from living your new life, I can't have that." 

"Don't talk like that, please," his voice wavers, words barely managing to slip out of his mouth. Regret overtakes your body so suddenly at the thought of his lips- you shouldn't have tried to kiss him. Maybe then he wouldn't have told you he was leaving. 

"It's the truth. we'll grow to hate each other, distance will put a strain on us. I'd rather not talk to you than have you resent me." 

"But-"

"Just hold me," you cut him off. "As if nothing's happening, please." 

And he complies because Felix always does. Because he loves you and as much as he doesn't want to, he knows you're right. 

•••••

It's been three months since Felix left- the days passed by agonizingly slowly, and yet the months went by in a blur, a hauntingly vivid reminder of what once was. At first, the texts between you two were frequent, but as time wore on, the messages grew sporadic, from your end, mostly. Seeing him flourish in his new life felt like salt on an open wound, a reminder that he was moving on while you were still anchored in memories of him. 

You saw him in every corner of your city. The smell of brownies that he's made countless times, each time you felt sad. The way he kissed your cheek each time he won a game, while you were lying on his bed, bored. The way he hugged you whenever you were sick, gently tucking strands of your hair behind your ear. The way he covered your ears instinctively at each loud noise, knowing how scared it made you still. 

And you've felt each of these emotions since he was gone. You were sad and bored and sick and happy and scared. And he wasn't here with you through them. Each moment away from Felix seemed to magnify what could have been- what should have been between the two of you.

There is a building construction next to you, loud cement blocks crashing to the ground. And you are curled around yourself in a protective ball, covering your ears with your hands, because Felix isn't here to do it anymore for you. 

You and Felix have grown with one another, your soul carefully woven into his, like two threads intricately stitched into the same tapestry. Him leaving felt like half of your body was cut off from you, and you were left alone to figure out how to function with an incomplete heart. 

17 july 2023 

Summer break meant coming back home and sleeping in your childhood bedroom once again. Memories of Felix still lingered in there- posters he has given you and his red sweater that you've never found the courage to throw away. It doesn't hurt as much to remember him, the sharp pain morphed into a dull ache you've grown accustomed to by now. 

You're watching the TV mindlessly when someone knocks on your door, and you go to open it without a second thought, expecting it to be your parents. It wasn't.

"Felix?" you stammer, stumbling back in shock. You blink repeatedly, in a desperate attempt to make sure he's not a figment of your twisted imagination. You haven't uttered his name in so long, and the syllables felt both foreign and familiar in your mouth. 

"It's me," he smiles sheepishly, his hand scratching the back of his neck. 

"You are here," you whisper, stating the obvious. He didn't change much, his kind brown eyes and freckles still as captivating as before. But his features were sharper, prettier, and the sight of him is making you dizzy once again. 

"I am." 

"What are you doing here?" You ask cautiously, opening the door a bit wider to let him in. 

"I requested a transfer to your university. I wanted to come back. I missed home, and I missed you," he adds softly, making a turmoil of emotions surge within you. 

You clear your throat. "So, you are back for good?" 

"I am," he says, smiling slightly at you as if to gauge your reaction. You stay silent and his grin falters; his tongue resting against the inside of his cheek, a habit he hasn't let go of apparently. He then walks to the kitchen and you follow suit. You don't have to show him around, he knows your home like the back of his hand. He spent most of his childhood here after all, even though his house was only a few blocks away. 

"How have you been?" he asks as he opens the cupboard to take out a glass. He closes its door softly, careful not to make it thud. 

"I'm good. It's summer break so I'm finally back home, what about you?"

"I'm good too. It's nice to be back." 

Your conversation is strained and awkward, so unnatural of you both. There was so much to say, so much to ask about, but you couldn't bring yourself to speak. He felt like uncharted territory to you now, one you didn't have the strength to discover once again.

"It's your mom's birthday tomorrow, right?" he smiles and you nod. 

"Should we make her our cookies? Like we used to before I..." 

"Before you left," you finish, bitterness dripping from your tone.

Hurt flashes in his eyes and you feel your heart suddenly clench in your chest. It was unfair for you to treat him this way. He was only seventeen and if your parents were to move away you would've followed them too. 

"Okay, let's do it." You smile sincerely for the first time since he came back to you. 

You both move seamlessly in the kitchen, each knowing your tasks like a choreographed dance. This was a tradition that started when you were twelve years old. You'd brown the butter while he beat the egg and sugar together. He'd sift the flour while you cut up chocolate. He'd mix it all while you preheat the oven. And then you'd roll the dough together. 

Your hands brush against one another as you shape up the cookies, and it feels so intense you almost drop to the floor. You miss him, you miss him so much and he's near you and you can't seem to think straight anymore. 

When the cookies are finally in the oven, he silently washes the dishes while you dry them. He abruptly pauses, hands still covered in soap before turning back to you. 

"Can we talk? Please?" he says too quickly as if he's been overthinking asking this question. 

"I'm busy today," you scramble to think of an excuse, you weren't ready to face him yet. 

"Tomorrow?"

"I'm staying with my mom, then there is Han’s party."

"I'll be there too. We can talk then, please?" he asks, eagerness evident in his voice. 

"Fine. Let's talk there," you concede and he nods, awkwardly shifting in his place. He finishes the dishes before drying his hands. You avoid his gaze and he sighs softly. "I'll get going. Tell your mom happy birthday from me." 

"Will do." You smile tightly and he does the same, before finally leaving your home, and in his trail, a maelstrom of emotions you weren't certain how to deal with.

18 july 2023 

You're at the reunion party Han is hosting with all your high school friends. You watch as Felix takes turns talking to everybody. He fits right in here, a puzzle perfectly clicking in place as if he's never left. He's telling a joke to Chan who laughs loudly, hitting Minho's arm repeatedly. Everyone is happy he's back, because they never had to gravel with the consequences of his absence. Because he's never ripped their heart out. 

Felix is looking for you around the room- he hasn't seen you in a while. He assumes you're somewhere around the house, and that you'd like to talk when time has passed. The knot in his stomach tightens as the weight of your conversation dawns on him, he longs to be with you, to undo the past two years he has spent away from you. But he's afraid to mess everything up, once again, so he stays near his friends who are now pulling him outside of the house.

"We have a surprise for you," Han says excitedly before pointing at the sky, "look." 

Fireworks, a dazzling show of blue, red and yellow. And Felix feels as if the colors were drained out of his face and splattered into the night sky before him.

"Where is yn?" he turns to Chan, eyes wide.

"Inside, I think. Why?"

"Stop- stop this, don't start any more fireworks," he urges the boy who's looking at him worriedly. 

"Why, what's wrong? We have a warrant to start them, don't worry."

"No, no you don't understand. Yn hates loud noises," he explains frantically, before bolting inside the house. 

He's yelling your name, and you are nowhere to be found, the sound of the fireworks so loud he isn't even sure you can hear him. 

He opens door after door, and after painstakingly long seconds he finally finds you in the bathroom, sitting on the floor, your head buried in your knees. Just like you were twelve years ago. 

Felix doesn't waste any time, kneeling in front of you to cover your ears with his hands, you look up at him, waterline brimming with unshed tears. 

"It's okay, I'm here. Just focus on my voice," he smiles reassuringly at you, and you clasp your hands on top of his, doing your best to muffle the sound of the explosions. 

"Your hands are still small," you attempt to joke, as hot tears trail down your cheeks. You hated how scared you still were. 

"The perfect size to cover your ears," he smiles at you, his eyes softening when they take in your distressed state. 

You hiccup, overcome by a new wave of emotion- for an entirely different reason this time. "You came." 

"I'll always come. Even if the world was ending, I'll... I'll come to you," he smiles, biting his lower lip to stop his own tears from falling. 

"It'd be useless if you came then. There would be nothing for us to do," you manage to say through shaky breaths. 

"But I'd be with you," he insists, gaze unwavering, "It will be scary for you. I imagine it will be loud, the world can't end silently." 

"Mine did, when you left." Felix's eyes go wide at your words, and you don't care that you are baring your soul entirely to him. "Please don't leave me again. I hate goodbyes with you." 

"Why would we ever say goodbye again, hm?" he reassures, his knuckles brushing against your cheek softly. "I'm never leaving you, as long as you'll have me, I'm here," he whispers, before pulling you into his chest.

Your hands find his back, and his cheek rests on top of your head. And you both close your eyes, an exhale of relief leaving you both at the same time. The world grows dark around the two of you, the only thing you saw was his heart and the overflowing love he still bore for you.

You felt as if you were wandering blind and you could finally see again, as if the string tying you to him wrapped tightly around the both of you, trapping you in his warm embrace.

You don't know what will happen next, but he's holding you now, and he'll hold you when the world is ending, and that is enough.

[englishsub]

book rec by me

so you want to get back into reading books but have no idea where to start and disdain booktok (if you get me started on this however i will become an unskippable cutscene so that's for another day). understandable. there is so much out there and it is all so overwhelming and you don't even know what you like now that you've been a decade out of the game. again, understandable. it does not have to be scary. i will help you. below i have created some categories that can get you started.

i want to read Literature

literary fiction, with crossover from historical fiction and magical realism

PEACH BLOSSOM SPRING by melissa fu

THE VASTER WILDS by lauren groff

THE FAMILY CHAO by lan samantha chang

OUTER DARK by cormac mccarthy

SEVERANCE by ling ma

LIGHT FROM UNCOMMON STARS by ryka aoki

IDENTITTI by mithu m. sanyal

PIRANESI by susanna clarke

i want to read sci-fi/fantasy that won't break my brain

sci-fi and fantasy that is gentler on the brain cells. easier to grasp magic systems with multiple but not an overwhelming number of overlapping plotlines

EMILY WILDE'S ENCYCLOPAEDIA OF FAERIES by heather fawcett

KINGS OF THE WYLD by nicholas eames

THE JASMINE THRONE by tasha suri

THE CITY OF BRASS by s.a. chakraborty

A RIVER ENCHANTED by rebecca ross

JUNIPER AND THORN by ava reid

BLACK SUN by rebecca roanhorse

THE FINAL STRIFE by saara el-arifi

THE BONE SHARD DAUGHTER by andrea stewart

i want to read sci-fi/fantasy that forces me to lock the fuck in

i would not recommend picking these up as your first foray back into books after many years of not reading recreationally, but i'm not your mom.

THE SPEAR CUTS THROUGH WATER by simon jimenez

JADE CITY by fonda lee

THE FIFTH SEASON by n.k. jemisin

THE RAGE OF DRAGONS by evan winter

A MEMORY CALLED EMPIRE by arkady martine

GIDEON THE NINTH by tamsyn muir

THE ART OF PROPHECY by wesley chu

THE GRACE OF KINGS by ken liu

horrify me!

there is far more to the horror literary canon than stephen king and dean koontz, i promise. consider looking up warnings for these.

TENDER IS THE FLESH by agustina bazterrica

THE RUINS by scott smith

CONFESSIONS by kanae minato

EPISODE THIRTEEN by craig dilouie

REPRIEVE by james han mattson

MARY by nat cassidy

DEAD SILENCE by s.a. barnes

AUDITION by ryu murakami

THE SALT GROWS HEAVY by cassandra khaw

don't care, i want romance

some of these feature crossover genres, like fantasy and horror.

VAMPIRES OF EL NORTE by isabel cañas

DAUGHTER OF THE MOON GODDESS by sue lynn tan

SEVEN DAYS IN JUNE by tia williams

HAPPY PLACE by emily henry

ONE DARK WINDOW by rachel gillig

i want QUEER romance

again, a mix of historical, fantasy, and contemporary crossover genres.

WE COULD BE SO GOOD by cat sebastian

IN MEMORIAM by alice winn

MOST ARDENTLY by gabe cole novoa

A STRANGE AND STUBBORN ENDURANCE by foz meadows

A MARVELLOUS LIGHT by freya marske

THE EMPEROR AND THE ENDLESS PALACE by justinian huang

SPELL BOUND by f.t. lukens

SORRY, BRO by taleen voskuni

ONE LAST STOP by casey mcquiston

DELILAH GREEN DOESN'T CARE by ashley herring blake

i haven't felt anything since i read percy jackson/the hunger games in middle school/high school

adventure is still out there.

SCYTHE by neil shusterman

WE HUNT THE FLAME by hafsah faizal

SIX OF CROWS by leigh bardugo

GEARBREAKERS by zoe hana mikuta

i'll read anything that's not straight or white

many books in the above categories fit this, but here's even more, across a variety of genres.

LAST NIGHT AT THE TELEGRAPH CLUB by malinda lo

BABEL by r.f. kuang

WHEN THE RECKONING COMES by latanya mcqueen

THE UNBROKEN by c.l. clark

IF YOU'LL HAVE ME (graphic novel) by eunnie

LEGEND OF THE WHITE SNAKE by sher lee

THIS IS HOW YOU LOSE THE TIME WAR by amal el-mohtar and max gladstone

SHE WHO BECAME THE SUN by shelley parker-chan

"all ya books suck"

like any other genre or book age group, there are duds and there are standouts. ya is not special in this regard. try some of these!

DIVINE RIVALS by rebecca ross

STRIKE THE ZITHER by joan he

THE RED PALACE by june hur

A STUDY IN DROWNING by ava reid

EMPIRE OF SAND by tasha suri

LEGENDBORN by tracy deonn

i check out and read a lot of these books for free via my local library by using the libby app (you can even add your friends' library cards to gain access to libraries in places you don't live). when i'm feeling like reading via audiobook, i use libro fm!

look, no one HAS TO read diversely. no one is going to be reverse fahrenheit 451'd and locked in a room with no fanfic and only books and not let out until they work their way through the entire literary canon. but reading, and reading widely, and reading diversely, is what teaches people to form their own opinions and question the things they are told. it's why they hang up stuff like "READ READ READ!!" in grade school classrooms.

we live under systems that increasingly benefit from going unquestioned. no, of course reading ASSASSIN'S APPRENTICE by robin hobb is not going to dismantle these systems tomorrow, nor probably even in our lifetimes. but doing it will help set up a world capable of doing it in the future. and until further notice, we are all part of this wretched world. might as well read a good story while we're here.

anyway, i'm reading THE WEST PASSAGE by jared pechaček and the new cmq book this week.

[yandere-wishes]

𝐼𝓂𝓅𝑜𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒮𝓎𝓃𝒹𝓇𝑜𝓂𝑒

Summary: Miles is the villain. You are the hero. You two shouldn't be in love...

Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping, afab!reader, canon typical Marvel violence. the reader is an undefined hero (but you can think of them as Spidergirl). No NSFW but both reader and Miles are 18+

Part #2 (The Perfect Girl)

part#3 (The Spider's Web)

There's something about the New York nights, that leaves a faint melancholy glow across Miles's soul. 

Some vanquished feeling that humbles him as the stars and moon look down laughing. Celestial bodies that mock him for every sin he's ever committed. Howling at the blood that drips from the edge of his claws. 

Miles never thought he was an insomniac. It just so happened that most of his life and routine took place in the dead of night. It had all been a coincidence until he met you. Now he's not sure if it's bad habits or sheer serendipity. All he knows is that he needs to see your face before the night comes to an end. 

He hadn't really met you. Not in the traditional sense at least. He'd been sent to kill you. An initiation from the sinister six. Back then he'd thought you were just another sanctimonious fool who was trying to play the role of the righteous hero. There had been many like you before. foolish and virtuous. All were left dead in some ally by daybreak. And yet when you'd landed punch after punch to his ribs. Your body slam caused him to spew blood from behind his mask. You were a tough bug to squish he'd give you that much.

Miles hadn't fallen in love with you that night. Nor the nights after that. 

It wasn't love the first time your web dagger nearly missed his heart.

It wasn't love when he had you pinned between his body and the cold street concrete, as you tried to pry off his mask to gouge out his eyes. 

It wasn't love when he'd shattered the bones in your leg and you'd been out of commission for a week.

It wasn't love when the two of you lay bleeding on a rooftop. Delusional enough from all the blood loss to try and trace constellations in the polluted night sky.

It wasn't love when you'd returned to that same rooftop the next week to beat him up. And he'd managed to lay a nasty blow to your face. 

It hadn't been love all those times. Yet all he knows is that somewhere along the lines Miles Morales had fallen in love with the new hero in town. 

He knows you're coming 

Senses your presence right as one of the sinister six's weapon cartels blows up in the distance. You never were one to be caught in the aftermath. Ever the dramatic sweetheart, who didn't like to get her hands dirty. 

He waits for the telltale sign of your feet hitting the rooftop to turn around. Mask on and heart on his sleeve. "Prowler" you greet, courteous as always. "Hey," he responds. Solid and simple and overflowing with every emotion he wishes he could spill at your feet. 

His eyes roam over your suit. Modest and girly, all things you wouldn't expect from New York's only superhero. You look like a doll. All porcelain and ivory. How you've survived so long in this city is beyond him. 

There's something wrong with you. Something Miles just can't put his finger on. Every time he looks at you it's like looking into a broken mirror. You're Disfigured, mangled, damaged. Yet all he sees in those shattered shards is the face of the boy he once thought he'd be. 

You're the light of New York. The one that promises to save this nightmare of a city. Made up of frilly bows and dreams to big to keep locked up in your head. The rage of the city, of the civilians boils through your blood. 

He's the Prowler. A boy born with rebellion in his bones and violence in his veins. A broken heart and a broken soul stitched together with barbwire and cheap glue. He's the sinister six's newest protege and uncle Aaron’s last hope. 

He's the villain and you're the hero. You shouldn't be in love. 

You skip across the rooftop, arms locked behind your back and spinning when it takes your fancy. You've long since shed any fear you may have once held for him. Standing on your tip toes you rest your chin on his shoulder. "Whatcha looking at?" you ask, with a voice filled with daisies and the summer breeze. "Pieces for my new suit were in the warehouse you just blew up." Oh how Miles wishes he could throw you over the edge. Watch you fall to your death. Maybe then you'd stop plaguing his every thought. 

"Sorry, Prowler just doing my job." You sound so carefree, it almost reminds him of how he used to be when his dad had still been alive. "You're an insufferable little insect, you know that?" He feels you smile  from under your silk mask."I try" 

You're not meant to be the hero. He knows this in his bones. You're too naive and soft-hearted to deal with the terrors of this city. More than anything else Miles Just wants to drag you away. To lock you up somewhere. Somewhere only he knows. A home where the burdens and terrors of this world can't find either of you. A place where you two can finally become one. 

 But you're not him and he's not you. All this is just a puppy dog crush. And puppy love is for baby-faced boys who didn't watch the life drain from their father's eyes. It's for sweet boys who didn't have their first kill at ten years old. 

"what's it like being the hero?" Miles asks, eyes glazing over the stars, staring straight at destiny. Who chose their roles anyway? Who made him the monster carved from rage and pain? Who painted you as the Guardian angel in gold? Why couldn't he be the hero?

You don't respond. Breath hitching and for a second Miles thinks he's hit a nerve. No one ever said doing the right thing was easy. He wonders if you claw away at your own soul. Peeling off your flesh each night to replace it with a silk suit and copper-tainted values. 

He imagines you throwing cheap knives at the night sky, watching as God's light deflects them back into your heart. 

You walk over to the edge of the roof and sit down. And for the first time ever Miles thinks he sees you for who you really are. Actually sees you. A kid with the weight of the world on their shoulders. An onomatopoeia of breaking glass and the cheers of the cities oppressed. 

"They're coming for me, Prowler." You pull your knees to your chest. Eyes looking over the city skyline. "I don't mind. I knew what I was getting into...It's just."

"Just what" his voice reverberates through his mask, he's grateful the metal and digital layers keep the  anxiety from seeping through.

"I just never thought I'd die this way" There's a smile in your voice. A  final giggle before an impending war. Miles takes a step back. Head heavy as the weight of your words crash down on him. "I saw Venom lurking through my apartment before I came here. They found me, I think they plan to strike tonight." 

He wishes he could tear this city apart, break its seams, and rapture its pillars. He can't let you die. He just can't. With a forceful tug on your shoulder he turns you his way. Mask slipping away as he slides his finger under your silk facade as he pulls it away. 

Miles's lips capture yours. As he kisses the dying stars trapped under your tongue and behind your teeth. His lips trail down your neck as he kisses the fatigue from your bones. Metal claws clutched tightly around you as if you may decay if he lets go. 

Sometimes he wants to dismantle his ribcage, piece by piece. Pickaway at the ribs and offer you his blackened heart on a silver platter. It's not his fault that he fell in love with the girl stitched together from radioactive spider bites and misplaced nightmares. 

every time Miles sees you he feels a certain feeling like the world turned upside down. Like he woke up fundamentally broken with no way to piece himself back. 

His claws trace up, gliding past your shoulders' to your neck. You don't refuse him, feeling safe for the first time since you dawned your mask and made your vows. You let him touch your neck as your naivety shines through. He won't hurt me, you think. But oh, how wrong you are. 

Miles wraps his fingers around your neck. Squeezing and squeezing as he watches you claw at metal. You look so beautiful suspended over the edge like this. There's something about being half awake and half asleep and half dead and half alive that makes you glow. He wants to say something along the lines of 'I love you'. He doubts you're conscious enough to hear him.

You're not his, not exactly. But Miles can't bear to let anyone else lay claim to you. It's a sickness he knows. But he'd rather be sick than lose you.

He'll keep you safe, he swears it. By the time you awaken, he'll have found somewhere safe for the two of you to hideout until he can convince his "mentors" to spare your life. It'll be fine, It has to be, after all...

He's Miles Morales, the Prowler

[sillylotrpolls]

Today's poll inspired by this post by @taleasoldastime-andspace, who was watching knife-making competition show Forged in Fire and asked the obvious lotr-related question, and @fistfuloflightning.

In the book, Narsil is broken into two shards (or possibly, only two large shards were recovered). In the movie, Narsil is shown in about five or six pieces. You can headcanon however many shards you like for your answer.

From Tolkien Gateway:

Elendil carried Narsil in the Battle of Dagorlad where it shone with the light of the Sun and Moon, and then in the Siege of Barad-dûr; but Sauron killed him and the sword broke into two pieces under him as he fell, and its light was extinguished. Elendil's son Isildur took up the sword and used its shard to cut the One Ring from the hand of Sauron. Isildur took the shards home with him. Shortly before Isildur was killed in the second year of the Third Age in the Disaster of the Gladden Fields, the shards were rescued by Ohtar, esquire of Isildur. He took them to Rivendell, where Isildur's youngest son Valandil was fostered, but Elrond foretold that it wouldn't be reforged until the One Ring was found again and Sauron returned.

From The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring: Part 2: Chapter 3: The Ring Goes South:

The Sword of Elendil was forged anew by Elvish smiths, and on its blade was traced a device of seven stars set between the crescent Moon and the rayed Sun, and about them was written many runes; for Aragorn son of Arathorn was going to war upon the marches of Mordor. Very bright was that sword when it was made whole again; the light of the sun shone redly in it, and the light of the moon shone cold, and its edge was hard and keen. And Aragorn gave it a new name and called it Andúril, Flame of the West.

[rinnie-marylin]

Saw this meme and i HAD to draw tobecky with it.

I'm aboutta yap about every single detail so buckle up!

I tried to make it a stained glass type of artstyle. Although the colors do kinda burn my eyes but i guess that's the beauty of it?

Also i don't want nobody telling me a star is not similar to the sun in terms of mythical... astrology or whatever yall call it, the sun IS a star😤

I made them COMPLETE polar opposites of each other.

Like how the shades of the bg colors are opposite. How the people worship the star due to it's benefits. While the moon is lonely, and looks down on the robots he made as friends, while the star never had to look down, she knows people are there to support her.

The star is wearing more ancient clothes compared to the moon, which is more modern, because the sun is older than the moon and has been worshipped far longer.

The sun has messier glass shards because becky can't draw for shit lol (a.k.a, she isn't that creative so it would be funny and accurate to make her card messy)

Meanwhile tobey's card is more organized and sophisticated. Usually stained glass art has organized glass shards but sometimes their locations are messy for the purpose of focusing on the story or meaning.

I originally didn't intend for the sun's card to be so bright but i guess that's the whole point of the sun, it's beautiful but if you look it too long you'll hurt your eyes. So imma keep it this way.

This is a small detail i'm pretty no one noticed or even bothered to notice. The shield behind becky (meant to reoresent her iconic star insignia, with her body sprawled out like a star) is actually flipped upside down behind tobey in his card to truly represent how flipped and different their moral standards are.

This is also slightly based off of the wordgirl lore and backstories of tobey and becky in the fading facade which is one of my fav wordgirl fanfics! I liked the idea of tobey being the prince of britannica, a rival planet to lexicon. and for tobecky's story to have a romeo and juliet mix to it. So tobey's clothes here are what i think royal britannica princes wear. That's why it's so fancy.

Here's the original template btw

[ninoxwof]

Dragon Weapons Concept

Wanted to make unique weapon designs for each tribe's soldiers/guards. Most of them are polearms! These are free to use with credit :]

Seawings' double as harpoons, Mudwings have more so something that's like a bludgeon/mace, and Rainwings are their blow guns. The bead colors on the sandwing weapons can also indicate the sandwing princess they are allying with. (I'll probably make a sheet exploring that in the future as well)

Thank you to my friend SailorHC who helped assist with designing the sandwings and mudwings weapons.

[Image ID: Digital drawings of different weapon concepts for the pyrrhia dragon tribes in wings of fire. The first one is for skywings, it's a spear plated with black, copper and gold colors, with a red ribbon tied attached. At the spear's tip, the copper colored blade is shaped like a flame, with two bird wing shaped decorations at the transition. The second one is for seawings. They are a spear that doubles as a harpoon with a pearly pink conch shell as the blade. It has a blue staff which then transitions at the base to be thicker with rope attached. The third is Icewing's. The blade is light blue crystal ice like shards fastened up with blue ribbons and tape at the socket. The beam is silvery with a handle at the end. Sandwings' bardiches are brown beams with long serrated blades that loops around and shapes a crescent shape. In between the two sections where the blade is attached is a tassel woven with two beads. At the end of the weapon, is a rattlesnake's rattle. Nightwings' spears have an off white blade shaped like a diamond star with a gray diamond decoration that has a purple gem on it. It's fastened tightly into a socket. The beam is black with the end having a crescent moon shaped handle. Second to last is Mudwings. They have a mace like stick that's black, gray and brown. The mace has three dull short spikes visible and a disarming blade that curves. At the end the handle is shaped like a lily pad where sibling troops can carve their troop name initials. Lastly are Rainwings' blow guns. They are tubes made with fresh bamboo with leaves still attached to it and a mouth piece and end part where the blow darts fly out molded with clay. /.End ID]

[itsswritten]

when the sea calls for three | intro

Paring: Azriel x Reader x Eris

Word Count: 1.5K

Summary: In the aftermath of war, peace reigns over the realms of Prythian, but the delicate balance hangs in the hands of two unlikely mediators—You and Lucien. As the newly appointed Emissaries of Peace, your duty is clear: maintain alliances, foster understanding between courts, and navigate the intricate webs of fae politics.

But when fate deals an unexpected twist, revealing that you possess not one, but two mates, the tranquillity you've worked so hard to uphold is suddenly threatened. Caught between two males who refuse to share, you find yourself thrust into a precarious position, torn between duty and desire.

What will you do and who will you choose?

I need you.

Those three words were all it took.

༄ 

In the soft glow of the morning light filtering through the room, flickering reflections of pinks and purples across the walls. Dawn Court had always been radiant, the sky, cobalt and rose. A sunrise all day long. You were proud to call it your home. 

You stood before the ornate mirror, fingers delicately adjusting the intricate buttons of your tunic. 

The decision to choose neutral clothing had been yours, a deliberate choice born from the realisation of what your new role weighed. You were to be a mediator, a peacekeeper, it only seemed fitting to don a uniform that symbolised your neutrality and dedication to maintaining balance among the realms.

The fabric shimmered with a subtle elegance, adorned with delicate motifs that whispered of the courts you now served. The tapestry of symbolism spoke something that words could not, of a new beginning, a new chapter– a time of peace.

The design along the back of your tunic, three majestic mountains rose proudly, their peaks reaching towards the heavens. Behind them, the sun emerged, casting its golden rays that spread warmth and light– a nod to your home.

In the left above, a fully fleshed sun beamed down upon the mountains, radiating its brilliance and vitality. To the right, three stars and a crescent moon were sewn with meticulous care, representing the rest of the solar courts and their celestial splendour.

On your left sleeve, leaves were hand stitched along your cuff,  bronze thread danced in a graceful swirl, climbing upwards towards your elbow, mirroring the silver icy shards that adorned the right sleeve. Autumn and Winter in perfect harmony. 

Around your collar, a delicate pattern of vines and roses intertwined, symbolising the beauty and vitality of the Spring Court's bloom. And along the trimmings of the tunic's bottom, waves swirled in a mesmerising dance, evoking the Summer Court's boundless energy and fluidity.

Your tunic jacket cascaded gracefully, halting just at your hips, while beneath it, a long, flowing cream pleated skirt billowed elegantly to the floor. With your hair initially draping freely, you gently pulled it forward, ensuring the intricate details adorning the back of your tunic were given their rightful moment to shine.

As you smoothed the fabric, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in the role you had been given. Playing a bridge between courts, and worlds. A mediator between the people. 

Politics had never really been something you relished in, but you were good with people, and good with your words. Qualities that your friend desperately convinced you, were integral to this role.

A soft knock on the door interrupted your reverie, and you turned to see Lucien, your friend, standing in the doorway. His mechanical eye wiring at the sight of you. He was wearing a similar tunic, one that was longer on his body but mirrored the designs of your own.

It was Lucien who had told you he needed you. 

I need you.

He had written to you one evening. His correspondences were usually lighthearted and filled with friendly banter, but this weighed heavily in a way that was so unlike him.

“I could really use your help.” Lucien had breathed, when you came to visit after his letter.

I need you. I need my friend. I need someone to lean on. I need someone to laugh with. It’s been too long. I miss you. 

Was what you heard. His message had been simple yet poignant, a plea for assistance and companionship.

You had always had a way with words and sounds. Understanding the gaps in between the breaths, the underlying emotions and intentions woven into each syllable. Most didn't realise what could be revealed in their words. How the octaves and melodic tones of their tongues sung of unspoken truths.

Lucien and you had shared a friendship that spanned many years, reaching back to your earliest memories of childhood. As children and teens, you had been inseparable, playmates in a time that now felt like a distant memory. However, when borders grew stricter and tensions mounted, those days were abruptly halted.

It wasn't until the dark days of Amarantha's reign that fate brought you back together, through the intervention of Nuan, a mutual friend. She was a skilled Alchemist of your court, who had aided Lucein in his healing, crafting his beautiful golden eye. And because he was no longer a part of Autumn, you were able to reconnect and your friendship flourished, even if it was predominantly through ink and parchment.

"Ready to face them?" he asked with a tight smile, his voice carrying a note of anticipation.

I’m nervous. Is what you heard under his words.

You returned his smile with a nod, a playful glint dancing in your eyes. “Of course, I was born ready Lucie” you replied, effortlessly flicking his nickname with a casual ease. 

Despite having a smart mouth now, Lucien was a name you often got tongue-tied in your younger years. Lucie had been a much easier sound to make, and you didn’t hesitate to use the endearing name when wanting to tease.

Lucien rolled his eyes, but your casual demeanour softened the nerves that had laced his previous words. That had been your intention.

Just one example of how your intuition always left you saying the right thing. Of course there were times this didn’t happen, but those occasions were extremely rare.

“We should decide which courts reside under our care before the meeting” Lucien began, striding in front of the mirror to adjust his own tunic. “And I have to say you’ve made more progress with Tamlin these past two months than I have in the past year," Lucien breathed, a hint of admiration in his voice while he smiled at you through the mirror.

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corner of your lips. "What, like it was hard?"

Tamlin's stubbornness had been a challenge, but your natural charisma and persuasion had proven effective in bridging the gap between his court and the others. His residents had at least started returning home, and thanks to your work, there was actually something for them to return to.

You huffed, before turning your friend around, pulling at his collar to adjust. Before tidying up his long auburn hair. 

"I can’t do both though Lucien. I'm not dealing with your brothers and Tamlin. That's too much, even for me” You remarked.

Lucien’s relationship with his brothers remained strained, the scars of their shared trauma running deep. Despite Beron’s demise, Eris was now Autumn’s High Lord. The brothers wounds were not so easily healed, and the weight of their history continued to cast a shadow over their interactions.

“Plus I do believe some forced proximity may do you and Tamlin some good” you pointed a look at him, referencing their damaged friendship.

Lucien bit the inside of his cheek, his eyes narrowing at you. He couldn’t help but envy how effortlessly you seemed to navigate the complexities of every situation, every conversation. Always knowing the right words to say, and the right actions to take. Qualities that had undoubtedly drawn him to seek your assistance in the first place. 

Qualities he forgot he would also be susceptible to.

"I'll look after Autumn and your hotheaded brothers. You deal with the depressed blondie," you suggested, a mischievous glint dancing in your eyes.

"Fine," Lucien conceded, begrudgingly acknowledging the wisdom in your words.

“I want Dawn, it’s my home and Thesan would be heartbroken if I wasn’t his courtier,” you asserted confidently.

"Then I'll have Day," Lucien negotiated, a hint of determination in his tone.

As the conversation turned to the remaining courts, you paused, considering the options carefully. The Night Court held a particular significance for Lucien, given his mate's presence there, but you were keenly aware of the tension that still lingered between them.

"I can take Night if that helps. I've already been the one updating their Spymaster recently anyway," you offered, your voice steady as you finally finished straightening up Lucien. Pulling your hands swiftly behind your back.

He mirrored your pose "Then I will manage Winter," Lucien conceded, a sense of resignation colouring his words. He wasn’t very fond of the cold, but neither were you. 

But he was happy to take this one for you, as you had taken Autumn and Night for him.

"Summer is mine. You can have the humans, your Band of Rejects or whatever they're called," you remarked playfully.

"Exiles," Lucien corrected with a humorous purr, a brief flicker of amusement softening his eyes.

“Apologies…band of exile…-d rejects” you humoured, before you felt him nudge you with his shoulder.

Your soft laughs filled the room before you tilted your head to look at your dearest friend “Look at you now. Exiled no more. Mr. Emissary of Peace” 

Lucien smiled proudly at the title, he had come a long way. This new chapter for Phrytian was daunting, but he was grateful to have you by his side “You ready?”

With a nod you grinned wide “Let’s go peacekeep the fuck out of them Lucie!” 

Next Part >>

a/n: Eeeekkkk so here's a little intro to set the tone and roles! Just a little disclaimer, there will be a few things in this series that haven't happened in the books, but it works for the plot. Only small things, so just go with it please! Excited to share this story with you all <3 - Lottie x

[freakyfrye]

ᝰ. perfect stranger

requested: stolas x gn! swan reader, what if stolas never met blitzø at the ‘not divorce’ party

type: oneshot

content: no mention of pronouns (just “you”), slow burn, wholesome & vulnerable fluff, love at first sight (for Stolas maybe, up to interpretation), flustered & subtlety turned on stolas (not too much tho stolas), down to earth reader

note: for the record, I don’t hate stella (i actually like her character, villains have a soft place in my heart always), y’all idk about this—this is trash 🚮 I hate how I wrote it, imposter syndrome is heavy with this one but I don’t want to rewrite it and make you wait longer! I know I said I’ll wait until I wrote all my wips but I need this out my drafts neow!

Anyone who could be considered important, on some level but no more than she, knew that Stella Goetia just adored throwing parties once in a blood moon. In her fancy mansion, she’s the face, the main character, and she plays her role as host so well that people tend to overlook every other bad quality she has among the very few pros. Or perhaps, they would rather not have bad blood with someone of her caliber.

You, on the other hand, couldn't care less—about the parties, the fancy mansion, or Stella herself, frankly. Parties were never your first choice for outings; they were the most energy-draining events, with all the overcrowding and having to pretend to enjoy the company of ill-minded individuals.

But alas, you begrudgingly attend this one, and many others, as a representative of your family name. You're not silent in your disagreement, always voicing how they couldn't have picked a worse member for the job—if your frown, ever present since entering the oh-so-lovely and homey residency of the royal family, was anything to go by.

Doing your due diligence, you converse with a few guests as you make your way through the herd of people, keeping it curt and unseasoned. Finally, you reach the woman of the hour. Locating her wasn’t difficult; her boisterous, obnoxious laughter, reminiscent of a terribly played violin, rang through the room.

Exactly what you’d expect from her. Respectfully but quickly, you greet her, say a few false words of endearment about living a long life, and then scurry off back into the sea of snobby kiss asses. To her and anyone around her, it might look like you were scared, tucking your tail between your legs. In truth, you were trying to keep your big mouth shut in case she couldn’t keep her nasty comments to herself.

The party continues uneventfully. The music, more like a lullaby, would have lured you to sleep if you hadn’t downed a few cocktails to prevent it. The partygoers, annoying as they are, fail to read the room and approach you regardless of your many excuses to avoid meaningless conversation. They just want insight on why a (surname) is at a party alone, much less why you of all people are here.

By evening, you were running out of excuses until you grow hungry—using the lack of vegetarian options as a way to escape their gossip. Now standing beside a gigantic window, you contentedly munch on some leafy greens, finding interest in staring outside. The view is much more impressive than the building itself—isolated enough from Imp City yet overlooking it enough to make a grand statement. It is truly beautiful at night, the lights like little twinkling stars rivaling the sky.

Your head snaps in the direction of a crash, eyebrows raised in disbelief at the sight of wine dribbling down the glass of the window beside the one you stand near, shards scattered on the ground. To your surprise, or perhaps not, the vandal is Stella, who now leaves the scene in a fit of laughter, two idiots in tow beside her.

Why in hell would she do that to her own home? The thought Interest you some. She should know the potential damage that could have caused, let alone to one of her guests who could have been injured. Stella looked back, a sinister grin spreading across her face as she shot a rude remark past you towards someone. It made you realize she didn’t really care—neither about the mansion nor how it made her look.

Your lips form a tight line when you realize her comment was directed at her husband, who retorts with a low, irritated chirp. It seems this wasn’t much of a homey residence after all. Sighing, you place your drink onto the tray of a passing imp, heading over to the stained glass, each step revealing more of the prince hiding behind a column.

There wasn’t a memory with him that you could recall as you took out a handkerchief, wiping the window clean. You knew he attended all parties, cursed with the duty of family, but you never interacted with him. As you bent down, picking up the shards piece by piece, you considered whether you should approach him.

There were plenty of reasons why you didn’t want to or shouldn’t, like the vibe he was giving off as he shamelessly gulping down a bottle of absinthe. But it was your duty to greet all hosts, and even though he wasn’t mingling like his wife, he still counted. It was better to get it over with.

Hurriedly, you call over a wait staff, dropping the shards on their tray with a fleeting explanation, “Have that area swept thoroughly,” while gesturing towards it before brushing past them towards the prince. Stolas grew in size as the distance closed, standing a few feet taller than you. It would be only slightly intimidating if not for him choking on his drink after you suddenly appeared before him.

Sending him an apologetic smile, you bow, “Evening, Your Highness. Hope I didn’t frighten you.”

He managed to squeeze out, “I’m fine,” in the middle of coughing before fixing his posture and smoothing down his vest, handing the bottle to a imp beside him. “It’s quite alright. I just wasn’t expecting company…” he trails off, eyes flickering up and down, clearly confused as to who you are or why you were talking to him of all people in the room.

“I’m glad. I would hate to be the reason the prince falls ill. That would not bode well for my family,” you admit, half-jokingly, before addressing the second half of his statement. “You’re in a room full of like-minded people; surely someone besides me has come to talk with you.”

Right? Because that makes sense. He is the prince.

He blinks owlishly at you before stuttering, “Well—” He clears his throat, placing a hand on his abdomen before continuing, feigning nonchalance, “Why, of course. It’s only appropriate in this setting. I presume that’s your current agenda?”

“Yes,” you answer truthfully, finally glancing up and pausing. A giant banner hangs loosely above his head that reads “NOT DIVORCED!” in bold lettering. Usually the observant type, how in the world did you miss this? “However, if I’m honest, that’s part of the reason,” you add, curiously. You didn't realize it was that kind of party. Maybe you should start paying more attention to the invitations.

“Oh?” Stolas tilts his head slightly, eyes widening. He leans in closer, his voice a mix of confusion and genuine interest, “And what, pray tell, is the other half of the reason?”

You open your mouth, ready to speak what’s on your mind. You've never been one to hide how you feel—superior or not—otherwise, it would consume you. But then you close it, pursing your lips in thought. Perhaps that would be too rude, too personal off the jump, too far outside your jurisdiction to ask him about his marriage at his “not divorced” party, which his wicked wife obviously threw just to spite him.

Damn, you wish more than anything that you could have continued the party without ever seeing that sign or witnessing Stella’s public display. You didn’t care for gossip, but you were a curious individual by nature. He’s standing there, waiting on you to say something—anything, or you’ll risk looking like a fool.

“Do you want to get out of here?” you blurt out after a pregnant pause, cursing yourself inwardly for what you were getting yourself into. Anything would be better than what had came out of your lips.

His body recoils in apparent disgust at what you dare ask him, a prince. You can’t say you blame him; you’d be creeped out if a random nobody asked that too. “Wait, what?” he replies, dumbfounded at your boldness. Was this a joke? He scans around the room, as if searching for something but finds nothing before returning his gaze to you, a faint blush dusting his face. “Could you repeat that?”

You've made your bed, might as well lie in it. Besides, you never wanted to be at this party in the first place, and it's becoming painfully dull. Ideally, you'd slip away alone after greeting him—but this could work out—satisfying your curiosity before the night is over, it could potentially end badly but who knows when you'll cross paths again. Probably at another miserable gathering, actually.

"Ditch the party with me?" You casually rephrase, keeping your head high, silently hoping you don't come off as too much of an idiot. “Or not. Either way, I’m bored stiff here, and it doesn’t look like you’re having a blast either.”

Stolas blinks a few times, processing your proposition. “You’re suggesting leaving the party together?” he repeats, confirming what you’ve just asked, though you’d already clarified it. His lips curl into a hesitant smile, betraying a hint of nervousness at the unexpected proposal.

“And where would we go?” There’s a playful gleam in his eyes, signaling his curiosity and a willingness to entertain the idea of breaking away from the formalities of the event.

You hum in thought, not having planned that far ahead, before shrugging and tilting your head with a genuine smile. "What about the garden? There seem to be a lot of plants around the palace. Someone must really care for them. I bet it’s beautiful," you suggest, recalling the impressive variety of plants, including the carnivorous ones, on the way to the ballroom.

His feathers ruffle as he lets out a low, excited squeal, his smile growing more confident as he leans down to your height. "You have an interest in plants?" he asks, almost unable to believe it, his hands clasped together. Everyone he's ever come across has called his interests boring. He never had a friend who was.

You nod, your posture relaxing after seeing his genuine reaction. "It's a bonding activity between my mother and me that started in childhood. I take it by your reaction that you handle their care?" Perhaps he could be good company after all.

His comical blush returns when he remembers that your suggestion came with a compliment. “Yes, I do. I’m surprised you noticed. Not everyone cares for botany…” He gestures toward the exit, silently saying ‘after you’ before adding, “I would be delighted to accompany you to the garden. I can show you the new species of carnivorous plant I acquired...if you’d like?”

Chuckling at his enthusiasm, you nod and reply, “I’d love that.” You head toward the door, with Stolas quickly falling into step beside you, his hands interlocking behind his back. There’s a respectable distance between you both, ensuring you don’t draw unnecessary attention as you discreetly leave together.

Stolas takes the lead after exiting the ballroom, and a comfortable silence settles between you, broken only by the sound of your footsteps. You notice how he occasionally glances at you, curiosity and excitement in his eyes, as the distance between you subtly closes. You don't voice your observation, letting him assume he's being sneaky when he's not.

"You know," he begins softly, eyes now trained forward, "I never caught your name." A stifled snicker escapes you, causing him to snap his eyes towards you, filled with confusion and a tad bit of worry. "Did I say something amusing?" he asks, tilting his head slightly.

Shaking your head, you respond, "No, it's just... It's a silly thought to think that you might know who I am." you tease.

A flustered noise escapes him, his shoulders stiffening as his mouth drops open and then snaps shut. He stops abruptly, turning his whole body toward you as he stutters, “That’s not... well, the reason...” He struggles to find his words before speaking honestly, “I don’t have a real reason, but if I had met you before, I wouldn’t forget you.” As if he could, you were the first creature in a long while to spark his interest so effortlessly.

Sighing softly, you gesture for him to continue walking. "Actually, it's refreshing not to be noticed immediately upon entering a room," you admit with a slight smile.

Finally reaching the garden, he opens the door and holds it for you, a gentle smile playing on his lips. “I understand how you might feel,” he sympathizes softly, closing the door behind him as he follows you inside. He watches with pride as your eyes widen in awe at the lush, vibrant space filled with an array of plants.

Taking your hand lightly, he guides you to a particular section of the garden where an unusual, striking plant catches your eye. “This is it,” he says, reluctantly letting go of your hand. “My newest addition. Isn’t it fascinating?”

You glance between him and the plant, chuckling in disbelief. "You’re kidding, right?" Your eyebrows shoot up at his confused expression. "Satan, I don’t know what I was expecting, but this—this wasn’t it. How in hell did you get an earth plant to thrive?"

He hums, glancing at the plant lovingly. "A bit of nurturing, a touch of magic, and voilà—a thriving earth plant."

"That simple, huh?" you ask, stepping up to touch the plant. It's soft under your touch and bends with ease—it's real. He wasn’t joking, but then again, why would he with all these other live plants around? It’s just a little hard to believe, is all. “Simple but significant.” you add, remember an affirmation your mother used to say.

Smiling, you let go of the leaf, your eyes following a path that leads deeper into the garden. You start walking, momentarily forgetting your original agenda: why throw a 'not divorce party'? Why not a normal party like normal couples do? But then again, was anything ever normal when you’re raised in the royal family?

Chances are they were arranged before they could even walk. Everyone who grew up in the scene knew that love wasn’t always part of those kinds of marriages. But you thought that wasn’t the case with those two. They hid it so well.

You become so engrossed in the scenery that you jump slightly when Stolas starts to speak, forgetting that you are in his home and not a museum. “Earlier… you said greeting me was only part of your agenda.” He raises his arms in a gesture of harmlessness noticing your jitteriness before continuing, “I’m purely curious… inviting me to escape with you wasn’t the other half, was it?”

"You’re more observant than I gave you credit for," you tease lightly. "You’re right. I still think it’s a touchy subject for you, but I can’t help myself. It’s like an itch in my brain that needs to be satisfied."

“There’s a lot you’d come to find out about me. I’m quite attentive toward things or people who interest me. Plants, my darling Octavia…” Stolas trails off, leaving his lost words hanging tensely in the air, but his gentle eyes on you have you forcing your brain to stop misinterpreting him. He shakes his head, as if to dismiss his own thoughts, "You can ask, as long as I get to ask you one in return. A fair exchange, yes?"

“Fair enough,” you agree, still hesitant and unsure of how he would take it but blurting out your question anyway. “It’s not hard to see that there’s some tension between you and your wife… almost painfully obvious.” You sigh, recalling the earlier events. “So my question is, why are you together, throwing a ‘not divorce’ party when it so clearly should be the opposite?”

There’s a long, pregnant pause between you two. Stolas stares at you, blinking as he processes your question, truly not expecting that to be what was on your mind. You were right—it was a rather personal question, one that really wasn’t any of your business. The nerve of you to be so crass as to ask him that of all questions, and yet, he couldn’t find it in himself to dismiss you.

Instead, he thought of all the reasons why he should answer—someone cares, someone’s listening… the list goes on and he checks them all off. The results are in and it’s still unclear if he should, even though his heart wants him to. Eventually, he expresses himself candidly, laying himself bare for a stranger who unexpectedly stepped inside his world.

Stolas sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair as he looks down at the ground. For a moment, he seems lost in thought, grappling with the complexity of his situation.

"It's... complicated. Stella and I, we've grown apart, to say the least. Our marriage was never really based on love or mutual respect, but more on the idea of strengthening our family's influence and securing alliances."

He lifts his gaze to meet yours, his eyes haunted by a deep sadness.

"But to leave her... it's not that simple. Divorce is rare and scandalous in Goetia. It would be a massive blow to my reputation, and I'm not sure I'm ready to face that kind of backlash just yet."

He shrugs, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as exhaustion settles on his face. The facade he’s been building crumbles in the wake of vulnerability. Now you feel slightly guilty for asking, but you know you had to—not because you were nosy anymore, but partly because he needs to know that there is an alternate ending, one where he could be happy. That it was possible, you were proof.

“I understand the expectations of royals as much as you do. However, I refused to give up that part of my life to my duties. I saw how taxing it could be from the outside looking in. Sometimes it works, other times it doesn’t. I couldn’t leave that up to chance, and I believe you shouldn’t have to either. So what if the royal family judges you? They’re going to do that regardless. If they are, why not live for yourself? You don’t have much to gain from the marriage anymore. Your daughter’s nearing adulthood, right?”

Stolas numbly nods, hanging onto every word. “Then set yourself free before you drive yourself mad trying to keep up with appearances.”

Stolas is at a loss for words. No one has ever cared enough about him to offer such kind words of support. Not his father, not his wife, not even those with whom he sought intimacy. Yet here you are, a stranger, offering him hope. He feels himself choking up with emotion, but he expertly covers it with a cough and a polite smile behind his hand.

However, you can see just how much your words have affected him when you look into his glossed-over eyes. It's like looking at freshly polished rubies. You fear if you confess that the tears he hasn’t shed will flow. Heavens when did you become so soft…

His hand moves from his lips to rest over his heart, which beats so aggressively against his ribcage that he might be concerned if he weren't immortal. You are dangerous for his health, he thinks, when you tilt your head cutely, causing his heart to flutter momentarily before finding its appropriate rhythm again. His throat tightens as he tries to swallow with a dry mouth.

“That might be the kindest and most genuine advice anyone has given me… thank you,” he mutters, afraid to speak louder than a whisper for this conversation. Stolas's face grows hot as he confesses his next words, a hint of longing in his voice, “I wish I had stood up for myself then. Maybe things would have been different…”

“It’s never too late to do what’s right by you.” you reply without a beat, nodding in all seriousness.

“You’re right!” Stolas steps closer to you, moving his hand closer to yours. “It’s time to live for myself. I think I deserve that much. You’ve given me much to think about.” His hand hesitantly brushes against yours. “But I do believe it’s my turn for a question.”

You perk a brow at his change in tone, noticing it drop an octave but it doesn’t match the coy smile he sends you. “I said it before: it’s only fair after the little discomfort I caused you,” you remind him, side-eyeing him, standing rigid and unsure of the sudden change in atmosphere.

He chuckles softly, finally taking your hand in his, “The only discomfort I felt was at that stuffy party, which was soothed by your presence,” he replies, before dipping down to place a gentle kiss on the back of your hand. “Can we do this again? Going out, I mean.” Rising back up but not letting go of your hand, he continues, “I enjoy your company, and your honesty is a breath of fresh air compared to everyone sugar-coating. You’re the first person I’ve met who shares my interests too. It would be a shame, on my part, to leave it at this.”

Your purse your lips, brows furrowed. Since attending this party, nothing has gone right. Instead of leaving alone, you ended up escaping with the prince, and now he wants to see you again. It wouldn’t be an issue if it weren’t for the subtle hints he been giving since you’ve met. Let’s not forget that he is still married.

Despite how shitty a marriage it may be, he was taken. Not that it was your intention to steal him away in the first place. This could only end badly if people were to take your sudden friendship the wrong way. Now getting out of an arranged marriage with someone else was one thing, but having a situationship with the prince of Hell was another.

How were you going to spin this? You avert your eyes from his, filled with anticipation and hope, ignoring the gentle squeeze of his hand in yours. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, your highness.”

Stolas coaxingly coos gently, drawing your attention to your hands, which he interlocks. "Oh, please? We could have it at your place this time if it'll make you more comfortable."

"Oh fuck me," you groan, closing your eyes and rubbing the back of your neck with your free hand, missing the way Stolas bites his lip as a shiver slithers through his body. You reluctantly agree, opening your eyes, "Alright... You have to give me time to get everything up to par for a prince."

"Not need! For company like yours, I’m fine anywhere."

rules, masterlist

[vanilladove]

˖✮₊ 𓆩☠︎︎𓆪 house of balloons

spooktober 2024 masterlist

˙⋆✮ pairing: ex!nakahara chuuya x gn!reader

˙⋆✮ genre: ansgt (dark elements involved)

˙⋆✮ content warnings: toxic/crazy ex, degrading, unhealthy relationships, violence

˙⋆✮ word count: 2.3k

"Been on another level since you came, no more pain"

"You look into my eyes, you can't recognize my face"

You gazed out of the window, looking up at the night sky and admiring the faded stars and red-tinted moon. Yokohama was always so quiet at night...well, not really peacefully quiet, though, since the Port Mafia was lurking in the dark shadows of the city.

You wondered if he was out tonight, executing the next unlucky soul that had betrayed Mori.

"You're in my world now, you can stay, you can stay"

You turned the volume of the music up, sighing as you laid back in the passenger seat of the expensive foreign car you were in. The air was filled with the thick scent of tobacco from the cigar your date was smoking. He was an older business man that you'd encountered at a bar. Despite his age, he wasn't much of a gentleman, evident by the smoke he kept blowing in your face and the absence of any lingering touch on your thigh.

Stifling a cough, you reached for the window button and pressed it to roll the window down, trying to alleviate your nausea. The older man peered over at you, "Ha. The smell of Cuban cigars too much for you, hun?"

You feigned a smile and shook your head, "Just want some fresh air." Your date mumbled something before getting back to the wheel, taking another long blow from the cigar. You didn't want to mention it, but you hated it.

The smell reminded you of sadder times. Chuuya rarely ever smoked, mostly just when he was stressed or irritated, and when he did, he always stepped away from you or rolled down the window. As your relationship had started to fall apart, he would smoke more. His wine bottles slowly became accompanied by cigarettes, and the scent would never really leave his long black coat, reminding you that your love was fading away.

Your reminiscing was interrupted when you felt your phone vibrating through your mini handbag. Your date eyed you as you slowly took it out and instantly pressed the red decline button, not even bothering to check the caller ID. You already knew it was Chuuya, calling you from a burner phone. This was the fifteenth time today⎯fuck, he was persistent.

The car went silently into the night as it crossed the bridge, and you could see the stars reflected on the river. "Everything alright, hun? Your friends keep calling you." You bit the inside of your cheek. Friend, huh? More like crazy ex...You knew it was starting to look suspicious, so you turned to face the older man.

"They're just being annoying, love, please don't worry about it. Tonight, I just want to focus on yo⎯" A flash of red by the bridge caught your eye, accompanied by a sudden drop in your stomach.

"But you belong to me, ooh, you belong to me..."

A feeling of dread washed over you, but you tried to ignore it as you leaned over to hug your date and kiss him on the cheek to reassure him. He looked at you funny but let out a hearty laugh in response.

The relief was short-lived, though, as soon as the car lost all sense of physics and flipped upside down with no notice⎯like it was being controlled, no, manipulated by gravity.

You could feel his presence before you could feel the recoil from the impact of the car being flung away from the road to the side of the bridge. You shrieked as the car alarm started blaring and the shards of glass started to fall on you, although they conveniently were pulled away by a red presence before they could pierce you.

Your date wasn't as lucky though, and you could hear his groans of pain and shock nearby. Head spinning, you tried to turn towards your door to escape until you met an ominous pair of blue eyes, framed by messy ginger bangs.

Trying to reach out, you tried to reach out in the distance, muttering quietly, "Ch-Chuuya⎯" A gloved hand broke the door open like it was nothing and seized yours, forcing you out of the damaged car essentially unscathed. You stumbled while you got back on your feet and leaned against the beams of the bridge, unfortunately with Chuuya's support. He crouched down to hold your face and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, like that would do anything to ease your borderline concussion.

"Fucking missed you, doll." You shuddered from his words and the feeling of him tucking some stray hairs behind your ears. The world was spinning, but you could make out his figure leaving and walking around to the driver's side of the car, followed by another red glow, signaling he was using his ability.

Goosebumps crawled up your arms as you heard a thud beside you, and a wrenching crush⎯Chuuya had just dragged your date out of the car and thrown him across the bridge hard. That crush you heard was definitely the sound of bones. The older man's cries of pain continued to ring in the air as your ex slowly approached the two of you, dread filling you with each clack of his boots on the pavement.

"P-please, spare me. I-If it's money y-you want, I⎯ack!"

The older man's pleads were cut short by a silencing kick from Chuuya, which made you cringe. You had always disliked all the violence associated with the Port Mafia lifestyle.

"Shut the hell up, old man. Your money and assets mean nothing to me." He spat out, stepping on your date's custom leather wallet, the yen becoming stained with blood and rubble. Trying to battle the throbbing in your head, you closed your eyes for relief, but your ex grabbed the collar of your top and shook you back awake, "Hey, I'm not done with you yet. At least try to stay awake after all the work I did to keep your pretty face unharmed."

You weakly glared back at him, unsuccessfully trying to swat his gloved hand away, but it did nothing. Your date turned to face you with wide eyes, "Hun, you know this man? Pleas⎯"

Chuuya's grip on you loosened as he went to go choke the older man, "Hun? Are you fucking kidding me? And who are you, huh?" You could feel his cutting gaze on you again, like he was waiting for you to answer instead.

You groaned, tired of the back-and-forth, "He's my date, Chuuya...spare him..." You trailed off, already knowing where this conversation was going. This had become a routine⎯you going on dates with other people to try and seek some peace or a free meal, but Chuuya would always intervene, somehow finding you and doing something bad to your partner.

His hands tightened into a fist, "Your date?" He laughed bitterly, but the emotion didn't reach his cerulean eyes, "What the hell? Am I interrupting your first one or something?" You stayed silent, not in the mood to argue with him. He frowned, using his ability to lift the car. "What is it that you like so much about him anyways, huh? This junk sports car? The fancy steakhouse he took you to for dinner?" He crushed the expensive diamond watch your date was wearing, which had been thrown onto the cement. "You know I'm better than him, don't you, doll? I mean, don't you remember all the things I gave you?" He sighed again, "For fucks sake, you have the tennis bracelet I gifted you on right now!"

You looked away, still not wanting to entertain his little act. To be honest, you did remember it⎯all too well. When he flew you to Bordeaux for your birthday and you made wine together, all the mornings he would wake you up with roses and your favorite sweets, and the time you would spend in his arms. You missed it, but you didn't have a choice, you had to leave him. All the consolation couldn't make up for the nights that you were alone because he was working, the times he would choose Mori's orders over your needs, and when you'd be taken as a hostage by the Mafia's enemies. Of couse, Chuuya never failed to save you, but you hated living in constant fear and loneliness.

A scream brought you back to reality as you felt a rush of air besides you. You looked up to see the red car along with your date in the air, and you got up immediately. You told Chuuya to spare him. You heard the silenced screams of your date as you ran to the edge of the bridge, but all you could do was look down and watch in horror as they fell into the water, a large ripple forming from the impact.

Your heart started beating rapidly again as you shouted out the older man's name, trying to hope he somehow survived the fall. Head still fuzzy, you tried to climb up onto the edge of the bridge. A futile effort, really, and a strong pair of arms pulled you back from the walls of the bridge. "Don't bother, doll, he's already gone. It's just us now."

Tears started to flow from your eyes before you could process his words, and your breath started to stagger. The sudden quiet of the night had hit you. You couldn't avoid Chuuya anymore.

He flared his nostrils as he laid his chin on your dropped shoulder, "You smell like shit. When did you start liking cig⎯"

"Chuuya," you started weakly, "Why are you here?" You looked up, and you swore his eyes softened upon locking with yours.

He looked away and scoffed, "I'm here on business. Your little date went back on a big deal with the boss, so I was ordered to get rid of him." Vague as always. Not like you expected much of an explanation from him. He turned back to you, "And you? Why are you all dressed up, huh? You're not supposed to go on dates when you're already mine, y'know?"

Two tears fell down as you pushed yourself away from Chuuya's warm back and turned so your back wasn't facing him. "I'm not yours anymore, you know that. Don't you remember the night I broke up with you?"

His eyes narrowed again, darkening, and he walked slowly to close the distance between the two of you again, "You were just confused that night, doll, you never really know what you want." You shivered and stepped away slowly, "I mean, what's the point of 'breaking up' if we both still love each other?"

You sucked in your breath, swearing the air wasn't as cold before, "You don't love me, Chuuya. This is something else⎯it's...obsession." Chuuya sighed as he took off his black gloves.

"Obsession? No, darling, I don't think you understand," He took off his coat, and you flinched, preparing for the worst, "The missed calls, roses and chocolate delivered to your doorstep, the designer clothes and jewelry I still send you," He stepped closer to you, now face-to-face, and wrapped his trench coat around your shoulders, "And this," he cupped your face, and you relaxed hesitantly under his warm fingertips, "Isn't this love?"

You exhaled, finally allowing yourself to breathe⎯you didn't think Chuuya would get so soft with you all of a sudden. He wiped the tears away, leaving gentle kisses in their place and preventing you from sobbing. Oh, you remembered that he'd always do that when you were on the verge of a breakdown. Even now, you hated how it calmed you down and made you feel safe in your toxic ex's arms. You hated how fast you eased up under his touch, and how fast you wrapped your arms around his neck and let him run his hands through your hair. "Stop it..." You tried to resist, but your head still hurt and his embrace was the only thing that took your mind off the pain. You hated it. You hated him.

But most of all, you hated how you let his fingers guide your lips up to his, and how you let yourself get lost in his kisses, only pulling away for air.

"Darling," Chuuya panted, "Come back to me. I know you miss me as much as I miss you." He looked in your starstruck eyes intensely, "We were never meant to be apart. I'll make sure you never feel lonely in that house again⎯I promise."

How nice sweet nothings sounded under the stars.

You nodded, not sure if your head was still disoriented or if this was truly what your heart wanted. You certainly didn't want to run in circles anymore, moving onto a new person just for Chuuya to throw them off a bridge⎯or worse. Deep down, you knew no one else could fill the gaps he left in your heart.

You knew your mind wanted to leave, to run far away from your ex and escape, but you couldn't go. Not when he was looking at you so lovingly, or when his black coat was providing your body the warmth it so desperately needed.

Another tear threatened to spill from your eyes, but Chuuya swiped it away again. Maybe you could just give him one more chance. "Yeah, let's go home, it's happier there."

The smile he gave you after hearing that was...different. Melancholic, almost, but also like he was waiting to win you over for a long time. The wind blew through his burning orange hair, and it looked so beautiful under the golden moonlight. You wished you could keep that view forever in your memories, and the best way to do it was to stay with Chuuya. You wrapped your hands around his tense arm, letting your eyes finally rest.

Just for tonight, you'd let yourself be weak and go back to the man you swore you hated most in the world. You'd let him whisper more affectionate words into your ear and hold you tightly, maybe even staying in the morning.

Chuuya leaned over to kiss your forehead, "Tell me you love me, darling. Tell me you're mine, please." The last part came out weaker, like a plea.

You took one last look at the water and the ground, where there remained no more traces of your date or his sports car. The smell of cigars was gone, replaced by Chuuya's amber cologne.

"I love you, Chuuya. I'm yours."

[thesharktanksdriver]

Determination! (Platonic)

Warning for this chapter: fisher tigers part is much more serious. It’s talks of slavery and while it isnt too graphic it does included a lot of mature themes. If that makes you uncomfortable please skip over it

You find that your dreams are very disjointed

Granted, you normally don’t dream at all

It’s typically just empty blackness as you fall into unconsciousness and then back into the waking world

But when you do have a dream every once in a blue moon

It’s…odd

Even for Dream standards you think their somewhat odd

The voices of those long past that you’d met cheering you on

Flashes of multicoloured sparks

The endless expanse of space as you stare at a star

It’s an old one, a dying one

Your not sure how you know that information yet you do

And you watch it die with sparkling eyes

It implodes on itself

Creating a massive explosion of light and energy that dispersed throughout the galaxy

Bright white light shattering into every colour imaginable into the void of space

The energy going in every corner of the universe

A supernova

Your not sure how you know that word but it comes into your mind

Perhaps it hasn’t even been invented yet because you know for a fact that knowledge on stars was vastly limited

Yet that doesn’t stop you from knowing knowledge you never knew before

You reach out towards the remnants of the dead star in a trance

The cheers of the dead yelling “stay determined!”

You open your mouth to eat the star shards

And then you wake up

How curious

Sun Pirates

In your time adrift at the endless sea you had come across many people of many races

Humans, odd winged people, mermaids, devil fruit users, marines and pirates

So it doesn’t come as a surprise when you come across a group of fishmen sailing the sea

They all look over deck at you with a mixture of expressions

Some worry, others pity and some with conflict

But as they all watch a Fishman with rose red skin, a tattoo of a sun on his chest and black hair tied back with a bandanna

He ushers them aside to look Down at you from what you assume to be his ship

“Hi! Do any of you know what part of the sea I’m in?. I think it’s the north blue? But I’m not sure. You’d think with the amount of time I’ve been afloat I’d be able to tell but-“

“Kid are you alone?!”

“Do you see anyone else on this ship?”

You don’t have much of a choice before your brought upon their ship

To their surprise though your not scared?

In fact you seem rather amused at the predicament your in

One that would usually leave normal people scared shitless

But it’s easy for the entire crew to tell your not a normal kid

Especially as you seem to find interest in what type of marine animals each member is

Even more so when you ask about how the capabilities/features of said marine animal

It’s…odd how knowledgeable you are despite your young age

And when they ask about it you just say “I know from experiences on the sea”

Like the fuck is that supposed to mean when your talking about the dangerous venom of the stonefish

They are worried

Like real worried

Some are still off put by the fact your a human but with how your talking the mixture of shock and concern overpower it

God they never thought they’d be fretting over a human but when you talk in visceral odd detail about how sharks occasionally eat people when desperate or confusing them for other prey

It’s a bit freaky

Doesn’t help that it’s oddly specific which makes it seem much more personal

And how you explain all these facts with a completely wide smile not noticing how their all horrified

Their captain Fisher tiger is especially worried when he questions you about how you ended up alone at sea in the first place

He keeps pressing you on the matter but always gets the same response of “I set out to sea and haven’t looked back” and “I’m not sure if my island exists anymore. It’s not like anyone would remember me, I’ve been gone for such a long time”

That implies so much and at the same time is very vague

This poor man is a few migraines away from bashing his head against a wall

But other than that and the worry he finds you to be an interesting kid

While watching you interact with his crew he notices that you treat them all as regular people

You don’t make snide comments nor do you go off of stereotypes to categorize them

Instead you see them as their own individual people

People who were owed respect no matter their race or appearance

And even when a few aren’t exactly the most friendly towards you your respect

Giving them space as you see their uncomfortable

For a kid your emotionally aware in a way that even most adults can’t compare

You can tell if someone has deep rooted trauma and don’t push the subject

Going out of your way not to bring up bad memories associated with humans if your presence did so

There were seemingly no bad feelings about it either

Just pure understanding in your eyes from possible personal experience

Even when he harbours hate for you it’s brushed off as seemingly nothing personal

When your not conversing your quietly helping around

Somehow knowing how to raise the sails and properly clean the deck

Never telling anyone of your deeds and just doing them to help out

It’s clear by how organic it is for you that your used to doing it

Yet your own …”ship” is something more akin to a poorly put together raft

Everything about you is odd

And for a long while he isn’t sure if that’s good or bad

Fisher is a man haunted by the actions inflicted upon him

A shared trauma among all his people from humans

He does not discriminate when rescuing slaves but he still has his own afflictions towards humans

The actions of them still on his skin and baring his soul

Yet he allows you on his ship despite it

Because he knows your a child

Someone who had not harmed him nor his people

Someone who’s innocent to the horrors of the world

To the harm done by your race

He grapples with his own hated for you because of something you cannot pick

He feels guilty and horrible for it

Yet the look in your eyes says that you understand him somehow

And that makes him feel worse

A child should not understand hatred from others

Let alone understand why he feels hatred towards them

And then also accept it with such empathy

it hurts

he's reminded of the guards who used to sneer at him for being who he was

you feel no sadness due to his gaze

only kindness as you do your best to avoid him

in some sense you understand why he gazes at you that way

you can't blame him, not when you yourself had been victim of the abuse of your own kind

looked down upon as dirt

seen as lesser

what hurts worse though is that you can't solely blame one group like he and some of his men can do

your human and your hurt by other humans

maybe it's worse in some aspects

it's why you give an understanding look in your eyes despite his occasional glare

Jinbe is perhaps the one you spend the most time with on the ship other than Hatchan

There is apprehension at first but what follows after a short period of time is kindness

Your just a kid

One not guilty for the crimes of others

He can’t blame someone’s actions on you

Especially when your nothing but respectful to them all despite their hesitation due to your race

He reminds you of a gentle giant which is fitting with what marine animal he’s acquainted to

Most times spent with him are ones where he listens to your words

Finding interest and intrigue in your stories and facts of the sea

It seems far fetched a child experienced all this but the look in your eyes says it’s true

The small mementos that hang on your form like hand woven bracelets, necklaces of shells and shark teeth, a coat befit for a captain hanging on your shoulders and bandana tied around your forehead to keep your hair tangled with pearls back

Their all signs that somehow your tales are true

As amazing and horrifying as they seem their true

And it leaves him feeling anxious

Your a good kid

Maybe one of the best he’s met so far and seeing the wear and tear on you hits him hard

You put up a smile and bare through whatever someone throws your way

Never once speaking back unless your standing up for someone besides yourself

It’s admirable but he sees how it has worn you down

Once upon a time he can imagine you smiling out of actual joy

And now it’s a mechanism for you to write off your pain

Your selfless to a fault

And on the sea people take advantage of that

But perhaps you already experienced that

And it leaves Jinbe’s stomach swirling with unease

He frets over you like a mother hen when you throw all regard for safety away and when you get something simple like a paper cut cause he knows either way you won’t care to tend to your own wounds

He honestly at the point wonders if this is what being a mother feels like

But he can’t contemplate that long cause Arlong is being a dick once again

Tension with him was high before but now Jinbe has half the mind to knock him square in the jaw if he kicks you again

And now he has half the mind to shake some sense into you when you walk it off

God he needs some sort of therapist cause he does not know how to help you beyond being protective and patching you up

It’s obvious that your hurt beyond repair on the inside

The times he’s found you just simply staring off towards the sea with a dead look in your eyes is a testament to that

A call of longing in long gone innocent eyes that still retain kindness despite it all

In those moments he just sits by your side and holds you

You grasp him like a lifeline

Something anchoring you down to reality as your mind makes you remember

He tells stories of fishmen island to distract you

He noticed though that when he tells of the promise to fishmen island from joyboy something in your eyes light up

Sparkles of light within them that dance but then fizzle away after a moment along with a shiver gliding down his back for some reason

He writes it off though

Just going back to his tales

It’s under yet another moon lit night you end up staring out at sea again

Memories of the past swirling in your mind like a hurricane

You can’t help it

Not after being reminded of one life you particularly didn’t like

You didn’t mean to overhear Fisher and Jinbe but it just happened

The captain of the crew talking about his time as a slave

The horror inflicted upon him at the hands of humans

You just keep staring out at the water

Burying yourself deeper into your subconscious trying to escape

But you can’t

Too distracted by the memories that you don’t even notice the two coming out the captains quarters to find you

Vacantly staring out at sea

Your staring out at the water

A deep empty stare

Darkness swirling in your irises

Occasionally you twitch, a jolt of imaginary pain burning your back once more

You sometimes still feel the pain of the brand that luckily now doesn’t haunt your skin

You hadn’t felt it in a long while until you realized after hearing him talk the tattoo of the sun on him was his brand covered up

It served as some sort of trigger

The memories came flooding back

The pain

The torture

The screams

The death

The rot

The overwhelming plea for death in a hell that became a limbo realm

Your hands trace the symbol on the wood lightly

Every couple of months (or maybe years? Your not sure) these thoughts and memories came up

It’s a normal cycle for you

Yet now they hit harder after seeing his tattoo

Cause it makes you think of them

Of the 3 sisters, the names of you never got as your mind makes the effort to forget what you experienced

Up until now you always had the worry of forgetting

You had been alive for a long time

so much so that your memories are inconsistent and blur together

Yet your time as a slave is something clear in your head that you wish erase

To wipe clean from your mind and bury

Yet you can’t will yourself to forget them

Because of those 3 girls you’d befriended over scraps of dry bread

Of the shared pain that was all understood from the four of you

Crying silently together while huddled in the dark

Cleaning one another’s bruises

The eldest girl of the bunch holding you one night when noticing your shivering form, the other two following in the action of huddling around you

A budding friendship formed from barely any words but silent understanding and conversations though looks

You can’t abandon their memory even if it’s attached to other ones you wished to bleach from your mind

It’s there staring into the darkened water you mutter 2 words that had been erased from your mind out of fear

“Celestial dragons”

The words are spat out like a curse yet your tone is full of emptiness

It’s something only someone affected by them could say in such a tone

Perhaps that’s why Fisher now looks at you with realization

“You…you were one too?”

“Yeah, it…I think it was a couple years back, I’m not sure though. The passage of time is hard for me to notice anymore, it all blurs together. Hell I can barely remember my life before the sea, I know I had parents and then they died but…I can’t remember their faces. Anyways, I was captured and sold, ended up in some dungeon.” For a moment you pause going over your memories as you pinch your chin in thought, the way you speak about it is nonchalant yet holds a lot of untold weight “it’s a blur of pain, I remember it specifically on my back. I try to limit how clear it is cause I don’t specifically like remembering it. There were these 3 girls though, sisters who all ended up in the same cell as me. We found kinship in our situation, I gave them the scraps of food I got since they needed it more than me.”

“Do you know what happened to them?” At hearing this you turn to Jinbe, a solemn expression crossing your face as an answer

“Not sure. I…like to hope that their ok, that they found their way back home” your tone is anything but hopeful, cracking with gloom that’s evident in your eyes “but hoping is all I can do. I wished for death when I was there, hoping they’d just finish me off so I could move on. At some point though I began to hope, those 3 girls needed someone there for them and I hoped I could remain just for them”

“Why’d you escape then?”

“I didn’t have choice.”

“What do you mean? That doesn’t really make sense”

They watch as an odd look forms in your eyes

They sparkle with unknown mystery

Something old and sentimental

Something ancient despite the young face you have

“Can you keep a secret?”

They look at one another for a moment

A silent conversation between the two

Jinbe is the one who nods first, your gaze then shifting to Fisher who takes a moment to look at you

He never noticed it till now but your eyes have something about them that…seems inhuman

For a second he swears he even sees stars sparkle in them

Great big shining stars that light the night sky’s and allow sailors to navigate the treacherous seas they love and call home

Stars that when he looks at reminds him of his freedom

Of not staring at the ceiling of a cage

Stars he wished to grasp at back in the days he wore shackles

Stars that for some reason now seemed to shine brighter, as if mirroring your resolve

He nods, watching a moment of vulnerability shine through eyes that look blank for a child

Eyes that have seen horrors

Eyes that had lost their twinkle of innocence yet still retain childlike charm in viewing the world

Eyes that sparkle of something ancient and old, residing in the depths of your irises like a great deity in the void of the night sky

“Have you heard about a star that never dies?” And so you begin your tale

By the time your done your tale they both sit there in silence

A deafening and choking silence that grips at you like the old collar of rusting steel or ball and chain that used to be attached to your leg

A sign of having your freedom weighed down

Locked away

You had once tried to break that leg but the girls stopped you

The eldest of them crying for you to stop

So you did

You watch them both stay in silence

And then see the tears line their eyes

And then they crumble like a cracked heart

Jinbe falling first as he grips you

Strong and battle-worn hands now soft and gentle

Afraid that you’d fade away

Afraid what would happen if he let go

It’s what you expected from him

But then You look to Fisher and find him in a similar state much to your surprise, if not he might be even worse than how Jinbe is handling what you told

Pure grief in his eyes

Regret

Pain

Solidarity

Familiarity

And most of all empathy

It pours out from him like his tears

Like a waterfall with never ending raging water crashing down onto the rocks

it’s loud and passionate

Covers up the internal screams of the past latching back onto him, into the lingering scars

Stinging Pain sinking back into those same spots like the angry gnashing claws of a beast

He’s hurting

But so are you

Your hurting together through shared experiences and ones he could never wish to experience

Jinbe holds you for a long while

Time melts away as do the phantom pains of those long past days

You hold him back

The soft material of his yukata pulling you in even further

Warmth

Comfort

Understanding

And your unspoken words of ‘thank you’ to his of ‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry’

You let time melt away a little more as they find themselves once more

“Why did you tell us this?” Fisher asks this with tears still falling down his face. Jinbe holds you close, webbed hand behind your head as he pulls you closer. You hear the waves lapping at the boat and the beats of his heart, it thumps like a drum. Rhythmically helping your equally torn apart emotions.

“I heard you talking about your experience. I thought it’s fair that I do the same” it’s said in such a simple manner that it makes the two fishmen reel back in shock for the third time in a night. It’s said in such sincerity and innocence, as if that was something normal “an equal exchange,If you will”

The crew watch on in confusion the next morning at the expression of thinking Fisher has on his face

Along with the clear signs of crying that Jinbe and him hold

People push but neither say a word

They say it isn’t their story to tell as their eyes trail back to you sitting with Hatchan

Playing a game innocently

Obliviously

Like a regular kid

Most don’t push after their captains grim expression

The look in his eyes

Some keep their curiosity to a low lit flame yet don’t get anywhere on the account they can’t get you to spill anything and Jinbe doesn’t exactly like them being nosey

So it eventually fizzles out

Things back back to normal

You tell your tales

Show them games they’d never played

You in turn learn more about fishman and mermaid society

But then you leave just as abruptly as you appeared

It’s weird to say but at a diner with them all as shanties are sung you just randomly say that soon you’ll be leaving

And despite how most of them hate to admit it

They didn’t want you to go

Hatchan is comically crying as a few others stubbornly argue against it

That it’s dangerous and you could get yourself killed

They look to Fisher and Jinbe who had been more observant of you as of late (if that’s even more humanly possible for Jinbe)

But their met with a reaction none had thought would happen

They object

They say it’s your choice and they can’t shackle you here

The sea was your home

And so the decision for your leave was cemented

In the days leading up to it you spend time with most the crew

But they all notice that at night you and their captain look out to the sky at night

Silence conversations happening through mere looks

pure understanding

Just pure solemn understanding

None make comments on it if they see it

Don’t mention it and forget it ever happened out of respect for both parties

And when the time comes to leave they all watch (some crying even) while waving goodbye

You promise them you’d meet again

“You’ll all be at sea right? Then that means you’ll definitely see me again someday! Wait and see! Grasp your freedom strong and tight, never take it forgranted”

Fisher watches and waves as you drift off into the distance, he holds a gentle smile

He hopes he’d meet you again

Hopes that perhaps you’d somehow end up on fishman island and talk to his people

As much as he thought Otohime’s talks of humans and fishmen working together in harmony were a naive and impossible dream

Perhaps if there were more humans like you it could work

And maybe

Just maybe

It would help both sides see that in the end neither were that different from one another

In your words on the silent night before you left “we both bleed, we feel and in the end we both have the same fates don’t we?. At heart no matter if your fishman, mermaid, human or anything else we experience the same gifts of life. We are all equal in the fact we are born on this earth and die here, and with that comes the desire for freedom and the pursuit of happiness”

He and his crew still have a lot to grapple with on the road to change

But you helped them start the first steps in overcoming the hate for your kind

A young immortal human child who had seen horrors upon horrors

Inflicted by their own kind that they will never stop loving with all their heart

Because you believe that inherently almost every sentient creature is born with kindness in them. It’s the world that corrupts it

When they are asked to take a former slave girl back to her hometown he does not have any hesitation to do so

He hopes that this is the next step in overcoming his hatred

Mihawk

Mihawk thought he was going to have a nice and relaxing day

His morning had been going great, a nice glass of red wine before he trained, a good breakfast

And then when he went outside of his castle there he finds is a young child looking around confused

….god damn it

So yeah, you died and just randomly appeared on the island that houses the greatest swordsman currently in the world

Not exactly your first choice but it wasn’t the worse

Well wasn’t bad instil the swordsman himself shows up looking as confused as you were

Yeah seems like you have some explaining to do

And dying or running away wouldn’t exactly help with the endeavour either since he seems intent on an answer

So here you are

In a gothic mansion lead by Mihawk into a room as he calmly sits down and asks you to explain

Now

And so you do

Well…you do the best you can to explain your entire situation as he sits there with a blank expression

By the end he just sighs

To be honest he’s not sure if he believes it or not but he takes it as an answer for now

And after that you two form an odd friendship and routine as you spend your time on his island

To his pleasure your polite and not loud

Silently watching him train or go about his day

Along with that conversations with you are actually quite pleasant

Mihawk is a man of very few words

Only shanks is able to get him talking with the help of finely aged booze

Yet talking with you comes naturally as breathing the air around him

It’s intriguing

Especially as it seems your story isn’t a bluff for how personally and detailed your recounts of events are 

Colour him impressed

you talk of Roger in a way that only Shanks could do

Describe the gods valley event with details only found in classified marine files

Not only that but your also a good storyteller

Telling such events in glorious ways that he can’t help but listen to the liquid gold that is your voice

The treasure trove of stories that flow out your mind

He must admit that he can’t help but sit on the edge of his seat

Wanting to hear more

In this time he comes to care for you

Your a child eternally

One in a cruel world that preys on the weak

While you may be strong mentally (god knows if you hadn’t then you would’ve gone insane) but physical your not

What doesn’t help is your total and utter lack of self awareness

God knows the amount of times he’d saved your ass from being killed by Humandrills

After awhile they seem to get the memo of leaving you alone but that still doesn’t stop you from almost dying in other ways

Almost walking off a cliff

Almost falling into a river

Almost getting hit by a piece of falling stone

He is now paranoid and trails you like a shadows or has you stick around him incase of yet another near death incident

God is this what being a dad feels like? Cause that’s how Mihawk feels at this point

He has half the mind to buy a child leash or something similar

Cause if you wander off one more time and almost die he’s gonna-

You make his stress levels go through the roof

Doesn’t help you completely brush of dying as no big deal

As if being eaten that one time isn’t traumatic as hell

He wonders if his position of warlord has some sort of health benefits cause he might look into therapy

Not that you think you need it though, you think your completely fine yet he begs to differ

You find it funny how stoic he is yet you can read him like a book

He shows his growing care through actions

Like making breakfast or decorating a spare room of his castle to something more suited to your taste

The unspoken offer of “if you need a place to stay your always welcome here” through these actions

A silent way of also prepping for you leaving

He knows that moment is coming

Especially as your small “boat” drifts ashore

He’s hardly call that a boat but nether the less it floats on water and you call it a boat

In your time preparing to leave he insists on at least teaching you the basics of using a sword

The proper positioning of your grip and stance

How to give a powerful slash

You pick up quickly, years of watching experienced swordsmen coming into play

He’s proud yet worry sows itself into his brow

Your a kind soul

One that has been put through untold hell and back

Even the strongest sword can bend and break if pressure is put on the perfect point

He doesn’t know what your breaking point will be but he’s worried

Cause inevitably it’s bound to happen

He at least has some peace of mind knowing he taught you how to fight

And when he sends you off he promises that when you next meet he’d have Sword fit for you

The castle feels more lonely without your small pitter patter of footsteps

The air is still when it should be filled with your stories of old

The garden takes more effort than he remembers when your not there to pull out the weeds

The Humandrills seem to miss your presence

It’s odd but you’d left such an impact in such a small amount of time

Mihawk wouldn’t have it any other way though

Hiriluk

Recently on the spring island you found yourself on there had been rumours of a thief going by

Normally this wouldn’t had caught your attention

But one day as you walk past an odd eccentric man with Snow White hair in a ridiculous manner with clearly stolen objects you can’t help but be intrigued

Especially as he shifts into an alleyway, leaning against the grimy wall with a hand over his heart

Coughs racking his entire form

Almost crumbling down as the subsequent spoils of his stealing fall as well

It’s then and there you become invested in this odd man

His story

So you decide to help him

For someone’s who’s a thief you’d thinks he’d be less enthusiastic about giving out his name

But your sorrily mistaken (in a good way) as the man introduces himself as Hiriluk

A master thief of the grand line

A plunderer of countless treasures and various tales

You nod along

Listening intently to his words as you help walk him to his hideout

The poor man is still shaken after his illness acting up again

Apparently as of late it’s been worse, so much so that he fears his days are now limited

But despite that he keeps a quite chipper attitude

Somehow finding enjoyment despite his circumstances

He’s…much like yourself in that sense

Finding joy even in the bleak conditions of your reality

It…is nice in some sense

To find someone a lot like yourself in mindset

Makes conversation much more interesting as you both talk of similar viewpoints

Much like you he is plagued with a curse that follows him everywhere he goes

From island to island

No matter the pace he canning escape his disease

A factor of his life that he must now deal with as he enjoys the time he has left

He’d given up on a cure by now

But…despite that you can’t help but research a bit to at least try

He appreciates the effort but solemnly admits that he’s tried everything

Hell, his island is known for their doctors and they couldn’t help him

He’s a lost cause like anyone with white lead disease

It’s a fact he accepts

And sadly you do so as well

Your stand only works for you

It’s entire purpose is for its user and not for anyone else

Not versatile or has any multiple uses

At least not that you knew of anyways

So on that factor you can’t do anything

So as you accept that fact you instead focus on spending time with the man

Listening to him get drunk and talk of someone named Kureha

An “old witch” with a stubborn edge and sharp tongue

But also has a kind heart

Someone who became a doctor for a reason, to help others as best she could even if she caused some chaos in the process

An odd one just like him (and you he adds with a smile) someone who didn’t fit in with the crowd

But maybe that was ok

Being different could very much be a curse for several reasons

Especially in a judgmental society that is maintained by the world government

But that otherness was also a blessing

Weirdness serving as a catalyst for so many wonderful things

For new ideas

For stubborn creativity that wouldn’t be snuffed out but instead burn bright

For brining together the people society looked down upon and giving them a chance to rise up

Your stay on the island is coming to a close but despite that Hiriluk doesn’t panic or seem depressed at the thought

Instead he finds happiness in the time still left

The conversations that have been spoken

The time he has left in this world being used for something truly nice

Not just stealing

Instead now truly engaging with life

The spring island your both on is now at its fullest bloom

The place was somewhat famous for how beautiful it was but neither of you had yet to see it

So the day before you go you asked if he’d like to go see it with you before you left

A last hurrah

One that would be spent watching the cherry blossoms in full bloom and have lunch

He agreed

The next morning is spent with him getting snacks of all kinds

Him packing them in a small basket as you lead him with the directions you got from locals

The two of you go up the hill overlooking the light pink trees in full bloom

His hand gripping yours as he goes still in shook

The sight is breath taking

Even the air from your lungs is seemingly sucked out at the sight of the trees in full bloom

The petals gently cascading down like snow around you

Getting stuck in your hair and pooling in his cupped hands

His eyes tear up and stare down at the pink petals

It’s breathtaking

And for the first time in a long while he feels ok

There was no blockage in his chest

Nor the looming grip of death on his shoulders

He felt cured

Like an average man that he always wanted to

The dream of his that died long ago in a doctors office when they said it was incurable

But now as he stares he feels hope

Something igniting in him in place of his Illness

These small fluttering petals had an impact on him just as you had

It cured him somehow

You showing him this magical sight cured him

And now he wanted to do that for others

He wanted to show the people of his bleak winter island this magnificent sight

To see pink instead of the white fluttering snow

To see trees not covered in snow that dampened their beauty

To feel the air escape their lungs

The lunch goes by quickly as does your leaving but both of you do so with a smile

He sets off with a new goal and you wish him luck

Telling him that you believe he’d somehow come up with a solution cause people like the two if you always did somehow

He smiles

When he returns back to his home island he sets out to be a doctor

To help cure others just as you had done with him

Some of The petals he collected that day kept in a small glass jar he kept as a souvenir and for testing

When Kureha calls him crazy he takes the words in pride

Recalling back on your time spent together

That odd little kid who had a spirit beyond their days

One who would humour his ramblings

Took him to that fateful place of blooming Sakura that would go on to change his life course forever

A parting gift in both an experience and in changing his life for the good

So he works on bringing that miracle to the winter island he lives on

Despite how impossible it seems he tries

And he tries and tries

And he keeps going despite how many times he is pushed down by yet another failure

You motivate him

The gift you gave him that he wants to share with others motivated him

His new student that in a lot of ways reminds him of you motivated him

Chopper sometimes still wonders why Hiriluk had taken him in

It lingers on the small reindeer’s mind

And it’s glaringly obvious what he’s thinking making the old “doctor” laugh

“Us weirdo’s have to stick together. I learned that from a friend of mine” as he says this the small blue nosed reindeer watches as the man pulls a framed photo off the wall. In it is him and a child with a large smile. “Hopefully one day you’ll meet them.”

“You…do you think they would accept me?”

Hiriluk let’s our a large laugh at that, clutching his sides as small tears line his eyes “if they hung around a old crazy coot like me then I’m sure they’d love you”

His young apprentice feels hope at his words

Sometimes silently staring at the picture with faint hope that one day he’d meet the doctor-….no his dad’s old friend

Perhaps in the future

But for now he had to help him find a cure

His sickness is getting worse and chopper doesn’t now if he could live with himself if he didn’t find a cure

His only lead as of now is some mushroom that can apparently cure anything

It’s a long shot but he has to try

He gazes as the photo once more

Hiriluk’s smiling face staring back along with your own

He’ll make sure Hiriluk will get to see you again

He promises it

With that the young reindeer sets off in the snow

Whenever you see the cascading petals of cherry blossoms you wonder how that odd doctor was doing

Brook

It was at reverse mountain that you had found yourself being picked up by a particular crew

The rumbar pirates had originated in the west blue

A musical band of jolly singing pirates with instruments of all kinds

All of which varied from different islands and cultures

Brough together in musical harmony

It’s amazing to you how music seems to come to them wordlessly

They play and magic is produced from their songs

So much so a baby whale follows them in their journey and is now waiting for them to return

A promise they intend to keep as the travel the sea like any good crew

Whilst the captain and crew are welcoming and friendly there’s one person in particular your drawn to

Brook is a fun and free soul

Constantly with a smile or chuckling out his odd but charming laugh

The musician teaches you piano as best he can

His hands guiding yours as the crew eagerly watch with bright smiles

Eventually as they sing and dance he has you play side by side with him

Placing his top hat in your head as they all call you “mini brook”

It’s fun

Especially as the giant of a man picks up his violin and lets you play alone

The two of you stringing together a melody that the others join in on

Dancing and singing with slurred speech and jumbled steps

Those nights feel like a haze in your mind

One with a rosy tinted filter overtop those memories

Of the songs sung

The dancing as the crew took turns showing you their groove

Taking your hands into their own and your feet atop theirs as they showed you to dance

But then the music began to die

Despite your many deaths you’d experienced and saw of pirates

This was one that was common yet still chilling

Illness

Honestly with how many ships you’d been on your surprised you’d never experienced a death like this

And it’s certainly one you’d never thought they’d have to suffer through

It starts off as one person

And then it spreads

Brook and the others keep you away from the sight

Telling you that they were just hungover

You don’t tell them you know hangovers don’t last several days

As others being to fall Brook keeps to at least trying to keep the facade of things are fine in front of you

Even as he has to take the place of their captain

He has a good facade

But you hear his sobs at night

For his fallen Crew and the fact it’s still spreading

And for you

By god is he worried for you

They’d all talked of the possibility of having you take your small shipped tied to their own and leave

But they all agree it’s too big of a risk

Their at the middle of the sea, it would be a death sentence if they let you go on your own

They can’t have that happen

Even if there’s still a chance here that you’ll die

There’s still the possibility that at least someone will spot their ship

That help can come and at least rescue you

So for now they have you stay

The symptoms come slowly

You feel more tired

Burning up

Laboured breath

Their all mortified as you one day pass out on deck

When you wake up your tucked into bed

Nearby someone sobs

You recognize his voice and blurred figure despite your senses being dulled

Small shaky hands reach for his

And he reciprocated the action repeating that he’s sorry

That he’s so sorry

That it’s his fault

That he was supposed to keep you safe

You say it isn’t his fault but it falls on deaf ears

He keeps crying even as he coughs

You keep saying it’s alright even as it feels harder to breath

Eventually even though everyone is dead or on the brink of dying they decide to do one last number

One last piece

Binks booze

You sit beside Brook having to lean against him for support as both his and your hands drift along the ivory keys

The songs plays full force

The few left playing the tune

Some cheerfully sing with smiles and dance withe one another

But they fall first

Dying with smiles despite it all

You sing in their place along with those who are left

The singing goes down by one as yet another falls down

Violin clattering to the floor

You sing louder in his place despite how your lungs burn and throat feels as if needles scrape against it

Another violinist goes down after this

Brook shakes beside you

He keeps up a smile

You do so as well but tears escape your eyes

A quartet

The cello goes down

A trio

His smile wavers and tears trail down his face now

He’s breaking

The final goes down now

It’s just you and Brook left, but you feel yourself getting weaker

The edges of your eyes have black dotes and every time you close them it’s harder to open them once more

A duet

You keep playing for his sake

He looks down at you sobbing silently as he continues to play

Their flag waves silently in the wind

“I’m not sure how longer I can play…do you think you can do a solo?”

Tearfully he nods

Playing as you sing

Continuing even after the lyrics stop flowing from your mouth and you slump down into his side

A solo

He cries

Eventually the piano comes to a close

Despite there being no skeleton of you to put with the rest of the memorial Brook doesn’t question it

The sight of Your body disappearing into golden light was just a trick of the mind all those years ago to help with the grief of him failing you

He knows he went insane a long time ago

He’s spent years alone at sea mulling over their deaths, of yours and the promise to Laboon

His mind is long gone as he wanders the old tattered ship that used to be filled with song

Despite it all he tries to put up a mask of being happy

But he never sings

Never plays music

He can’t deal with another solo

Can’t deal with that last performance

Sometimes he thinks of the songs they made

The one the crew made about you that surprisingly got popular

Based off the odd tales of stars you talked about

An undying one

He wonders if it still plays

You remember they made a song about you

It’s long forgotten to the many new sailors of the sea

But on occasion you hear it from old souls. Those who had traveled the seas for many years and had retained the songs and myths now forgotten to the new

The sound of it always makes you smile, but it is tinged with sadness as you do so

Whenever it is sung or Binks Booze you promised yourself you’d always join in

A promise to them, that kind musical crew all those years ago that suffered a horrible death from a bad stroke of luck

You carry their memory along with Laboon

Whenever you end up at reverse mountain you always sing the songs they once did to ease the whales heart ache

It can only do so much but Laboon at least stops jutting against the mountain momentarily

Wanting to one day reunite with those jolly sailors

You wish you could one day do the same

But for now you carry their memories

Their songs that house the remnants of their souls

Sometimes you swear you see their rotting ship

But you always wave it off as missing them

Of delusions of your mind as you stare out into the darkness of the sea

[maimingaffairs]

Hey, could I please request something for Aleksander x femReader where the Reader is a Star Summoner? He and Reader have been friends since they where children and have walked the earth together since then. They always thought that the love they have for the other is just friendship, but boy where they wrong...Their friendship takes a hit during the whole Alina in the Little Palace time...Reader knows about the plan to expand the fold and is all for it, she just really doesnt like Alina....Anyway, during the events on the skiff when Alina runs, Reader and Aleksander get separated and believe the other to be dead...They go on to free Grisha on their own. After some time they meet and in the heat of the moment he kisses her...They finaly confess their feelings...After that they go on to win the war...After they win they get crowned King and Queen and bring peace to Ravka, but expecialy to the Grisha...

this was another 3am write, i yet again apologize for that. also, i apologize for how long it took for me to finish this. i have been in Tennessee all weekend seeing taylor swift... anyways... anon thank u so much for this beautiful req. i hope that it is to your liking

warnings: canon typical violence, mentions of blood

word count: 8.2k

Are There Still Beautiful Things? (aleksander morozova x fem!reader)

-

“One more time, please?”

“You’ve said that four times, Aleksander.”

“And I’ll say it four more if I must. It’s beautiful.”

You looked over at your best friend and gave him a little smile and rolled your eyes. 

“Your mother is not going to be happy when you don’t get inside.” You remarked and then nodded at his hands once. 

The two of you laid underneath a large tree just outside of his home, just as you did almost every other night. You’d been best friends with the boy ever since the two of you were little children, and now here the the two of you were, barely fourteen, and you were still yet to be rid of that childlike wonder. 

“I don’t really care. She won’t get mad, she likes you enough.” He insisted and reached out to gently grab your hand, “One more time, I swear this is the last one. Please?”

You looked into his dark, round eyes and you nodded once, conceding under his pleading stare. 

“Okay.  One more time.” You giggled and squeezed his hand once. 

The two of you intertwined your fingers and Aleksander raised his free hand to conjure a thin sheet of shadows just above your heads as you looked up at the space around you. 

The stars and the moon above your heads disappeared behind the shadows he conjured and you reached up to drag your fingertips through the inky darkness above your heads. Finally, you flexed your hands and clasped them together for just a moment before you opened your palms up towards the shadows, sending little glittering shards of soft white light up into the shadows. Aleksander marveled at the sight for a while, and you turned your head to marvel at him.

Sometimes when you did this, the two of you would spend hours making up your own constellations and galaxies within the self-made stars and sky that you’d both created. This wasn’t one of those times, though. The dark haired boy next to you leaned over and placed a little kiss on your cheek before he reached up and shooed away the shadows he’d created. 

“Okay, I said it was the last time and I meant it. See?” He teased 

You giggled and nodded, watching as he pushed himself up off of the ground and held his hands out for you to take. 

“Let’s go inside, yeah? My mother will likely beat me with a stick for not coming in an hour ago.” He said and gave you that charming smile that you had come to love so much over the years. 

“Okay.” You answered softly and reached up to take his hands. 

-

Aleksander’s hands clasped around yours tightly as he swung himself down off of his tall horse and he gave you a small, soft smile. He leaned down to press a hello kiss to your cheekbone and then let go of your hands, and you lowered them back to your sides. 

“Well, I see that the Little Palace is still intact and hasn’t been burned to the ground yet, so I assume my time away wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be.” 

His voice soothed you more than just the sight of him and you let out a relieved sigh, straightening out your kefta. 

“It was bad. For me, at least. I had no one to bother. Stop running off.” You replied, earning a lazy smile from him. 

Aleksander shook his head with a quiet whisper of a laugh and he turned around. In his last letter to you, he raved about how he’d found the Sun Summoner at long last. 

The girl perched upon his horse must have been her. 

She was pretty, despite her state. Days of riding had put her hair into tangles and there was dirt caked underneath her fingernails and smudged across her cheeks. Aleksander helped the slender girl off of his horse and he motioned towards you once she was securely on her feet. 

“Miss Starkov, this is y/n. Star Summoner and my right hand.” 

Her eyes traveled over you, up and down a few times. The ghost of a disdainful look crossed her face and then she gave you a curt nod. 

“Lovely to make your acquaintance.” She replied briskly and gave you one more look up and down before she clasped her hands behind her back. 

You eyed her cautiously in return and then gave her a small hum. 

“Likewise, Miss Starkov.” You replied in the same clipped tone. 

The girl watched you as if you were a current threat to her and you slowly shifted your gaze to Aleksander who was looking over his shoulder at Ivan. You cleared your throat, effectively capturing his attention and he turned back to the two of you and then nodded towards the palace. 

“Meet me in my chambers, would you, y/n?” He asked and you gave him a nod. 

Alina didn’t even give you a second glance, turning her head up to face somewhere between Aleksander and the doors to the palace. You blinked a few times, taken aback by her coldness and you slowly moved away from the two of them. You bunched the skirt of your dress up in one hand and made your way back inside the palace, greeting a few of the Grisha that had gathered around the entrance, wanting to catch a glimpse of the Sun Summoner. You shouldered your way inside and made a beeline for Aleksander’s chambers, letting out a little huff. 

“You’re in an awful hurry.” A voice called out behind you and you turned around with a relieved smile when you saw Baghra. 

You stopped walking and waited for the older woman to make her way to you and she gently hooked her arm with yours and let out a sigh. 

“So, this is it.” She said simply and walked with you as you continued down the hall, now going at a pace she could easily maintain. 

“I suppose so,” you mused and then you let out a tiny scoff, “I would’ve thought she’d at least be a bit more… pleasant.” You stated and glanced over at her. 

She shrugged a bony shoulder and she drummed her thin fingers against your arm. 

“Well, from what I understand, this is all new to her. Imagine finding out one day into your adult life that you are the Sun Summoner, prophesied for centuries. I’m sure she’s a bit apprehensive, my dear girl.” Baghra reasoned and then gave you a tired smile. 

“Perhaps. Where are you headed this afternoon?” You asked softly and led her through the winding halls to Aleksander’s chambers. 

You had known Baghra since you were only four years old, and she had always been nothing but kind to you, taking you in eventually once you grew older. Your parents never were fond of you being Grisha. She was often viewed as bitter and harsh by others, but you had nothing but admiration and love for Aleksander’s mother. 

“I came to seek you out. I figured you’d either be outside with my son or you’d be headed to his quarters. Seems I was correct.”

She usually was. 

“Oh? Is there anything I can do for you?” You asked her softly and she simply patted your arm before speaking. 

“Just make sure he doesn’t make poor choices. Please. You’ve always been his voice of reason. He cares for you like you would never imagine.” She hummed and then looked up at you. 

You gazed down at the woman and then gave her a small smile in return, giving her arm an affectionate squeeze with your own. 

“Well, I care for him like he could never imagine so I suppose it works out, doesn’t it?” You asked and then leaned down to place a kiss on her cheek. 

“I care for you, too, you know. You are the child I never birthed. I am thankful for you. He needs you. You remind him to be polite and kind, and he reminds you to utilize your power and your cleverness.” She said with a little sigh. 

When you two approached the doors to Aleksander’s chambers, you pushed them open for her and she let go of your arm and wandered inside and you followed behind her, closing the doors behind you. 

“I must know, and you need to tell me the truth, darling. Does my son have ulterior motives with the Sun Summoner?” She asked and turned around slowly to face you. 

You met her eyes and then shook your head before you gave her a shrug as well.

“Not that he’s told me of. I mean, we don’t discuss the Sun Summoner often. And when we have it’s always been hypothetical. This is the first time we’ve been faced with a reality with her in it.” You explained. 

Lie. You lied. 

You knew very well what Aleksander planned to do with The Fold. You felt a bit of shame as you lied to Baghra, but you swallowed it down like dry bread and kept your eyes on hers. 

“Time will tell I suppose. It was lovely to see you, y/n. Come and see me for tea tomorrow afternoon if you can sneak away from Aleksander. I know he doesn’t much like to share you.” 

You watched as she walked to the far side of the room and pressed her fingers against a wall panel and it slid open. 

“I’ll cross my fingers that I see you tomorrow. Until then, behave.” She said with an affectionate smile and you gave her a little wave as she disappeared into the wall. 

You stood in the middle of Aleksander’s war room for a while before you took your kefta off and laid it against the large table in the middle of the room and you wandered into his bedroom. You let out a long sigh as you walked towards his bed, and as soon as you were close enough, you tossed yourself backwards onto it. 

You wondered where Aleksander was and realized he must be busy with the Sun Summoner. 

The Sun Summoner. Your stomach turned a bit and you sneered to nothing in particular. You could already see where this was heading. He had to devote time to her, you knew that. But you weren’t excited to share his attention. After all, you’d been the main recipient of it for the last five hundred years. You stared up at the ceiling and a little pit began to form in your stomach at the thought of Aleksander giving his attention to her and you shook your head, trying to clear the thought from your mind, pushing it down as far as it could go. 

He devoted time and attention to his army, to other Grisha, to his mother, the royal family… the list could go on. So why was this different? 

You feared you knew the answer and you shoved it out of your mind as fast as the thought could take form, but the feeling lingered nonetheless. 

It was different because you had feelings for Aleksander.

-

“Oh, Saint’s sake, Zoya! I asked you to be gentle today!” You called to the Squaller. 

She looked over at you after she had yet again, knocked down one of the trainees cruelly in combat and she gave you a shrug. 

“They aren’t going to get the option of gentleness in a real combat situation, Miss y/l/n!” She called back at you with a grin. 

It had been nearly a month since Alina had arrived at the Little Palace, and Aleksander was adamant that you oversaw her training. You stood off to the side with your hands clasped behind your back, watching all the trainees carefully. You oversaw almost all of the combat training these days, as you were quite skilled in combat. You glanced out over the small group of new Grisha and you pointed at Alina, beckoning her forward. 

“Alina, darling. Why don’t you go next? I’ve seen you beat Zoya before.” You suggested and the girl eyed you discontentedly. 

She slowly stepped forward and then folded her arms over her chest. She looked Zoya up and down before she turned her head and looked at you, her eyes narrowing just slightly. 

“I don’t appreciate how you’re singling me out. It’s a bit eerie how obsessed with me you seem to be.” She called out to you. 

Your eyebrows shot up challengingly and you stared her down, daring her to say another word.  When she didn’t, you spoke. 

“Obsessed with you? Please, don’t flatter yourself, Miss Starkov. Nearly everyone has taken their turn today, and now it is yours.” You replied coolly. 

Zoya shifted awkwardly where she stood and then she glanced up at you. You gave her a little nod and then waved your hand once. 

“If there are no more interruptions, let’s start.” You instructed and lowered your hands down to your sides, flexing them frustratedly. 

“I’m not going to.” Alina said sharply. 

You folded your arms across your chest and watched her amusedly. 

“And you think your belligerence is going to get you anywhere? You need a reality check, Starkov.” You remarked and watched as she rolled her eyes at you. 

“The Darkling wouldn’t-“ 

“The Darkling wouldn’t appreciate the way you’re speaking to his second in command. So spar or don’t, but either way you will walk yourself down to his chambers and tell him yourself just how you spoke to me and how you refused to be compliant with your trainers.” You stated and watched as she shook her head. 

She muttered something out from under her breath and then she spun on her heel and turned in the opposite direction and walked haughtily away from you and the rest of the Grisha. 

You watched as she marched off and then turned towards the trainees that were gathered around you. 

“You are all dismissed for today. I have some business I should attend to.” You said in a flat tone and didn’t wait a second longer before you made the brief walk from the training yard to Aleksander’s chambers inside of the Little Palace. 

You didn’t bother knocking on his doors and you flung them open, marching inside of his war room with a frown across your lips. Your eyes fell upon him as he leaned over his war table and you walked up to his side, allowing the door to shut behind you. 

“You are displeased.” He remarked without even looking up at you. 

“What gave it away?” You huffed, leaning your waist up against the edge of the table. 

“You didn’t announce yourself. And you’re stomping.” He slowly turned his head up towards you. 

You stared into his dark eyes and then sighed. You leaned over to rest your head against his shoulder and you frowned. 

“Your Sun Summoner is not a very kind person. I’m tired of her disrespect towards me.” You mumbled and you felt Aleksander chuckle. 

You stood up straight just as he did and you shook your head. 

“What’s funny about that? I’m very serious.” You stated and folded your arms over your chest. 

“I’m sure she doesn’t mean to disrespect you. She’s probably just a bit homesick.  She’s tired of being here. Don’t take it personally.” He advised and then reached over to rub your arm reassuringly. 

You gaped at him and knitted your brows together. 

“Don’t take it personally? If I had complained about anyone else disrespecting me, you would’ve seen to their swift punishment. Why is it different when it’s her?” You asked incredulously, a little pang of sadness resonating through your stomach, up through your chest. 

“It’s not different. I just… don’t know what you want me to do.” He said exhaustedly and then he rubbed his face and stared down at you. 

“I want you to put an end to it! I am your second in command. Your best friend. I have known you since you were a child, Aleksander! I expect you to stand up for me!” You exclaimed and threw your hands up in the air. 

Aleksander bitterly let out a laugh and he shook his head once. 

“Please. You sound ridiculous. I think that you’re jealous.” He remarked and folded his arms across his lean chest. 

“Jealous? Excuse me?” You sputtered and then gave him a nasty look, “Of Alina? What planet do you live on, Aleksander? I could end her with the flick of my wrist.” You countered angrily. 

“You could not. We both know she’s more powerful than you. You seem to detest that. Trust me, I’ve wished for you to be as powerful as her many times before.” He snapped coldly and you blinked at him a few times. 

As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew they couldn’t be taken back. The look of shock on your face slowly turned to sadness and then shame and your eyes filled with hot tears. You looked down at the floor and your chin wobbled a few times before you looked back up at him. You squared your shoulders and sniffled back your tears, looking at him sadly. 

He felt as if you’d taken his heart out and crushed it in your fingers just from the look in your eyes alone and he opened his mouth to apologize. 

He hadn’t meant a word he’d just spoken to you. Your powers had always been the most beautiful things in the world to him. 

You cut him off before he could even speak. 

“She will never stay by your side like me. Her power may be greater than mine, but her devotion and love for you is not. That is the one thing you’ll never find again, Aleksander.” You said in a harsh tone, barely above a whisper. 

He reached out for your arm but you recoiled backwards as if he was lightning and you shook your head, “Don’t touch me. Don’t speak to me. Don’t think of me. Just leave me alone.” You hissed and then turned around and stormed out of his room. 

And for the first time in a long time, as soon as you reached the security of your own room, you allowed yourself to cry.

-

It had been nearly a month since your fight with Aleksander, and you had avoided him successfully. At first, he tried to approach you. But you easily evaded his presence each time. You stopped overseeing training and did what you could to avoid Alina, too. You spent most of your time with Baghra now, and tonight was no different. 

It was the winter fete, and you had decided not to go. Aleksander had sent you an elegant invitation and a beautiful, grandiose black dress with pearly white embroidery of constellations and swirls of stars. You’d taken the box to his door and left it there without another word. 

You sat in a chair next to Baghra and she let out a soft sigh, passing you a little lap blanket as you sipped on the tea she had kindly made for you. 

You stared into her little fireplace and you turned to look at her to find that her eyes were already fixed on you. 

“I wish desperately that you were the Sun Summoner.” Baghra spoke softly and you frowned, setting your tea down on the little table next to you. 

“You and Aleksander both.” You said coldly and moved to rise from the chair you were in. 

She reached out and grabbed your wrist gently, shaking her head once. 

“No. Not like that. I wish that it would’ve been you. You are the only one who sees him for who he is. The only person that can see past  The Darkling and instead see Aleksander.” She said with a small frown. 

You sunk back into the chair and held your hand over your face, a frown etching itself onto your lips. 

“It wouldn’t make a difference. I’m not enough for him regardless.” You said slowly and spread the little blanket that she had handed you out over your lap.

The old woman simply shrugged and let out a dejected sigh, leaning her chin against her hand.

“May I ask you a question? I need your honesty.” 

You glanced up at her and you hesitantly nodded once. You leaned forward a bit in your chair, curious to hear what she had to ask.

“You know him best. He tells you everything. So tell me- truthfully- what are my son’s intentions with the Sun Summoner? Does he really mean to vanquish The Fold?”

You eyed Baghra with a slight frown and then you leaned back in your chair, folding your arms across your chest.

“I think if you are asking me again, you already know the answer.” 

The room around the two of you was silent, save for the crackling of her fireplace. You met her eyes and she stared back at you with something between disappointment and fear.

“You lied the first time I asked.”

“Yes.” 

Her mouth twisted a bit but she didn’t say anything else for a moment and she instead looked in your eyes with intent.

“I’m sorry.” You said quietly and shifted your eyes down to your lap.

“I don’t fault you, child. I know that you’d do anything for Aleksander. I realize the power he holds over you.”

You didn’t even argue. Normally you’d protest him having any kind of hold over you, but you knew he did. You knew it very well. It affected almost everything you ever did.

“It’s the same power he holds over the Sun Summoner. It’s easy to seduce someone and bend them to your will when you’ve had five hundred years to practice manipulation.” Baghra noted, likely mostly to herself.

You furrowed your brow and looked up at her questioningly.

“Seducing? Who? Alina?” You asked, not liking the tone that you took on when her name fell from your lips. It was bitter, envious.

"Who else? She sneaks around at night, in and out of his chambers. It's easy for him. She's naive and he's charming, easily the prettiest boy that's ever shown her attention."

You listened to Baghra sadly and you turned your head away from facing her, your nose burning and your eyes growing hot with little pinpricks of tears. Finally, you turned your head back towards her and she frowned deeply.

"You love him."

"Of course I do, he's-"

"No. I know you love him. What I mean, is that you have fallen in love with my son." She remarked.

You pulled your bottom lip into your mouth. She wasn't wrong. You weren't even sure when it had happened, it could have been any time within the last four hundred years.

Baghra reached over and laid her bony hand on your wrist and you closed your eyes, sniffling quietly, keeping your tears at bay.

"I always preferred you over Luda, anyway." She said sweetly, her attempt at lightening the mood.

You let out a sad laugh and then shook your head once.

"Aleksander will always prefer a powerful woman." You said quietly and then you opened your eyes to look at the woman's face.

"You are powerful. You are very powerful. you’re capable of things no one presently on this earth has seen. Things only perhaps Morozova knew of." She said slowly and then gave you a little frown, "You just accept what you’re presently capable of as all you can do because you don't mind being second to Aleksander." 

You knew she was right again. There was no use in justifying yourself to her. She would always be right. 

"I'm going to tell Alina to leave this place tonight, and I think you should do the same thing. Nothing good will ever come of the path my son is choosing to walk." 

You didn't feel like speaking, didn't feel like arguing. Though you would have stayed through all of his wicked plans, it was clear to you that all you had become to him was a burden. Aleksander and you had been in fights before, it was only natural to do so when you had known someone for that long. But this time had been completely different. He had never once taken a dig at you. An unrelenting sadness ensnared you entirely and you wrapped your arms around yourself tightly. 

You couldn't help but wish they were his arms instead of your own.

A pair of arms did wind themselves around your shoulders and you looked up to see Baghra had risen from her chair and come to stand in front of you. You leaned into her embrace and you rested your face against her arm, reveling in the small bit of comfort she offered in the sea of your distress,

"I love you, y/n. As if you were my very own child. You deserve more than this and truthfully, you always have. Go. Please. For me. Get out of Os Alta, get away from Aleksander, give yourself the chance to be happy. To be everything you need to be for you."

Her words had fresh tears springing to your eyes and you allowed a few of them to fall onto the fabric of her robes. You brought your arms up to her torso and you clung to her like a small child.

"I love you, too." You whimpered and allowed her to soothe you by running her hand over your head and shushing you.

"Please do this one thing for yourself. You have spent four centuries giving everything you have to Aleksander. Run. Promise me you will run."

You squeezed your eyes shut and didn't move or speak for a long time. Running away from Aleksander meant that you could never come back to him. He'd condemn you forever. But staying meant that every single time you saw him would be a reminder of how you weren't enough for him.

Baghra was right. You needed to do something for yourself and yourself alone.

So you nodded one and held her tighter.

"I promise."

-

 The cold fingers of an icy rain fell through your hair and down  underneath your clothes, leaving trails of chills over your skin. The wet sloshing of water that gathered in the grass was loud under your feet and you tried to be as quiet as possible while you approached the little prison camp made especially for Grisha. You slowly crept around trees and stayed hidden for moments at a time behind the especially big ones until you were close to the tree line. You could see a few lanterns up ahead, and around it stood a few First Army soldiers. 

This camp was smaller than the last one that you'd come across, with only three cages. Easy.

You took a deep breath and forced yourself out of the cover of trees and you walked across the muddy clearing in silence. Rain soaked through your clothes and left your hair in strings around your face and made the mud under your feet squelch. You looked up at the sky to find it empty. It must have been a new moon. Either that or the clouds hid the stars and the moon from your vision. The darkness around you seemed to take shape and you found yourself checking your periphery for anyone. You had to remind yourself that you wouldn't see him in these shadows. He was dead. He died in The Fold. It was all you heard for weeks as you passed from town to town all over Ravka. The Darkling was dead and the Sun Summoner was presumed to be the same, though most people had their doubts about that. 

Ever since you had ran away from Os Alta, you always felt like you had to check over your shoulders and into your periphery, in fear of him finding you. It wasn't that you feared him. You just didn't want to know how he reacted to you leaving, didn't want to know what he would say to you. Truthfully, guilt ate you alive everyday since you had left, but you had to keep telling yourself it was for the best. Aleksander found you to be a burden, and he had Alina now, anyway. What did he need you for?

You continued to trudge through the muddy field, and one of the soldiers must have caught sight of you because he called for the others and pointed at you frantically. You continued to approach nonetheless and they raised their guns at you, all three standing in various places around the lanterns, which sat in what looked to be an old fire pit.

"Don't come any closer! Hands behind your head, get on your knees!" One of them commanded loudly. 

You didn't obey, in fact, you picked up the pace of your steps a bit more and approached them.

The first shot that went off missed you by many feet, but the next came much closer. The third shot one of them fired off was aimed much better. You swept your arm out in front of you and deflected the shot with your kefta. You could hear them all begin to load their guns again and you finally reached them. 

You reached out with a white hot light burning beneath your skin and you grabbed one of their throats and yanked him forward. He let out a loud, agonized scream, and the skin under your hand began to burn and sizzle beneath your touch. You tossed him aside and walked towards the next man. The barrel of his long gun stopped you as he pressed it against your stomach, and in the dim firelight, you could see him sneer at you.

"Ah, it's you. The Darkling's right hand." He spat and you eyed him.

You gave him a little smile and then you grabbed the barrel of his gun and you clicked your tongue.

"I am no one's right hand." You hummed and leaned closer to him as you reached up for his throat, your hand beginning to glow with the hot light of the stars.

Something blunt and hard made rough contact with the back of your head and you stumbled backwards, colliding into someone's chest with your back. You groaned and glanced behind you at the third soldier and you cursed yourself for not subduing all three faster as he dropped the gun that he had just hit you with. His hands quickly encircled your wrists and he held them apart with a steel-like grip. You struggled against him and let out an angry yell.

"You will die for your actions against the Grisha. At my hand!" You hissed and sent a backwards kick into his knee.

The soldier crumpled a bit, but he didn't release you, and you were soon faced with the point of a sharp dagger, digging into your throat, held by the other soldier that stood in front of you.

"Lock her with the others." he commanded, but neither of them made a move to lock you away.

The one holding your wrists from behind cleared his throat and squeezed your wrists tightly, his nails pressing into your skin.

"If she was really General Kirigan's right hand woman, then she is obviously powerful. We need to execute her immediately." He stated and you thrashed savagely against his grip. 

"Stop moving or I will put this dagger through your windpipe!" The one holding the blade threatened and you slowly stopped moving and eyed him dangerously.

"You won't. You would have by now if you were going to." You said gruffly and he burrowed just the tip of the dagger into your skin.

"Try me, witch." He breathed.

You prepared yourself to slam your head into his and you watched his face when tendrils of shadow began to reach around his head from behind. You watched him in shock and curiosity as the tendrils covered his face and nose, and by the time he realized he was being smothered with tangible darkness, it was too late, he was already being yanked backwards. He struggled against the shadows and the other soldier yanked you backwards and pushed you down to your knees hard.

"What are you doing to him, witch?" He asked angrily and sent a kick into your side.

You gasped when his boot made contact with your rib and you crumpled onto the wet grass, rain still falling steadily. You were completely soaked with rain by now and you looked up at him as he raised his foot once more to kick you again and you covered your face with your arms protectively. Suddenly, there was a sharp, distant sounding clap, and the blow never came. 

Instead there was silence in the clearing other than the whispers and groans of the three locked away Grisha and you moved your arms away from your face. The soldier above you wobbled on his feet and then his head rolled off of his neck and smacked against your ankle. You let out a bloodcurdling scream and kicked it away from you before you put your hand in something warm. You looked down at the ground behind your back and you gasped to see the other soldier, headless as well, and your hand was in a rapidly growing puddle of his blood against the already wet grass. You heard heavy footsteps and looked up fearfully. The creature that stood in front of you was two times the size of a regular man and shaped like a disfigured and fluid-like human. It was so dark that it made the moonless night around you seem sunny and you began to back away from it, still on the ground. It lunged forward at you and you screamed loudly and protectively raised your arms again. 

You felt nothing but a cool burst of air against your skin and you let out a little whimper and looked up, moving your arms away from your face. You were met with two legs clad in black and your eyes traveled up the darkly clad form in front of you, a lump forming in your throat, realization washing over you, the feeling even colder than the icy rain that pierced through your clothes.

You closed your eyes, not wanting your eyes to finish their journey upwards. Your lips tugged down into a deep frown and you let out a shaky breath.

"You- you’re dead. You died."

There was silence and you opened your eyes again, and let out a startled shriek. 

You were met with the scarred face of your closest friend as he knelt in front of you. Rain had plastered his normally immaculate hair onto his forehead and the sides of his face and the back of his neck. He had thin, black scars that traveled across the length of his face and there was a new hardness about him. His eyes seemed even darker than they had previously and he reached out and grabbed your chin.

You gasped when you felt his cold, wet fingers against your chin and your lip quivered as you looked into his eyes, confused and scared.

"I live. I live and breathe before you. I should have let those soldiers kill you, traitor." He hissed and you stared up at him fearfully.

You shook violently and you weren't sure if it was because of the rain, fear, or a combination of both. You shakily reached up and wrapped your hand around his wrist as he kept his hand on your chin. 

"T-traitor? N-no! I didn't betray you!" You shouted and opened your mouth to speak again, but he cut you off recklessly.

"You left me! You abandoned me without a single word!" He bellowed and tightened his grip on your chin.

"You didn't need me anymore!" You cried, "you had Alina! She's more powerful than me, anyway! Why would you need me?" You asked, your face wet with cold rain and hot tears.

"Come on, we are not having this discus-"

"You even told me she was more powerful than I!" You exclaimed.

"Y/n, you abandoned me. Abandoned your duties at the Little Palace." He growled and tightened his grip on your chin even more.

Pain shot through your chin and your jaw and you let out a little cry, your eyes squeezing shut as you winced.

"Aleksander, you’re hurting me." You whispered in a trembling voice.

You knew he wouldn't really hurt you, but he had never been rough with you like this before and he was scaring you. Everything from the tone of his voice to the newfound deep blackness in his eyes was scaring you. Haunting you.

His grip on your chin very slowly loosened more and more until he let go entirely, and you let out a little sigh of relief before a loud sob tore itself free from your chest. You wrapped your arms around your cold, shaking shoulders and you pulled your knees up to your chin. Rain pelted the back of your head as you leaned your face down against your knees and you shivered, your teeth chattering violently.

"Get up. Come on." He said firmly through the rain.

You shook your head and held your eyes closed.

"Y/n, sweetheart, please get up. You are going to freeze out here. Look at you; you’re shivering." His tone was not warm, but it wasn't cold either. It was vacant mostly, save for the tiny bit of concern that crept into his words towards the end of his sentence. 

You shook your head again and you sniffled loudly. There was a soft shuffling sound above you for a second before you felt two arms wrap themselves around your body and before you could protest, Aleksander was lifting you up into his arms. He wasn't a single drop drier than you were, yet he felt warmer; more comfortable. You didn't make a move to grab onto him as he held you, but you allowed him to gently coax your head down against his chest. His cold, wet kefta pressed against your freezing cheeks and it made you shiver just once, your head shaking before you finally relaxed against him. Everything about him was almost the same, but there was a new, ragged edge to him. To his breath, his movements, his voice, even the way he smelled. You shivered again at the thought of him being rougher around the edges after whatever it was he'd gone through and you pressed your lips together to prevent another sob. "You are cruel. You are a cruel woman. How dare you leave my side? For five hundred years you have been faithful to me. How could you?" He asked. His voice was no longer empty; it was full of sorrow. 

You shook your head as it laid upon the side of his chest and you let out a shaking sigh.

"Why would I have stayed? I was reminded every single day that I wasn't enough for you. You let Alina disrespect me, you called me crazy and jealous when I asked you to put an end to it. You told me she was more powerful than me, Aleksansder! You told me you wished I was more powerful! Why would I have stayed?" You repeated and lifted your head away from his chest to look up at him.

Raindrops streaked down his face and fell from his lashes, down over his lips and off of the tip of his nose. He looked glorious in the minimal light of the nighttime with his hair unkempt and wet as it hung in his ink-like eyes and he shook his head as he looked down at you. 

"I didn't mean it. Not a single word of it." He said ashamedly, almost shouting over the rain.

"I am your best friend! I love you! I would do anything for you," you began and then you reached up and covered your face with your hands, "and yet, you casted me aside as soon as you got a shiny new toy. I know. She's the Sun Summoner. She will save the world. I can make pretty stars with my fingers and can only swear loyalty to you. I can't expand your Shadow Fold, I can’t do the things she can do!" You cried and moved your hands away from your face to look into his eyes once more.

Emotions swirled within his deep brown eyes and he tightened his arms around your body as he held you against his chest as if you were no larger than a small child.

"You just need to let me go." You said tearfully and bit your bottom lip sharply, "Let me go and we can go our separate ways, and then you can get back to your plans, you can find your precious little Saint." You exclaimed miserably.

The way he stared down at you was unlike any other way he'd ever looked at you before. He stared at you much like a devout follower would stare at their deity and his jaw flexed a few times, the skin over it pulled taut against the bone.

"Don't you see? I needn't search for my precious little Saint any longer." He remarked quietly, his tone reverent. 

"And why is that?" You asked sadly.

No warning could have ever truly prepared you for the way his lips fell upon yours. He kissed you with a sadness that you could feel all the way in the center of your chest, and after the initial shock wore off, you kissed him back, your eyes falling shut. His lips moved against yours resolutely and you reached up with a cold, rain slick hand to hold the side of his scarred face. His sadness melted into something a bit softer and more inviting, and the moment you thought you could put a name to the feeling, he was pulling his lips away from yours. He laid his forehead down against your own and he closed his eyes.

“I do not need to search for my precious little Saint any longer because she is here, in my arms as we speak.” He whispered. 

You felt all the color drain from your already pallid face and you looked up into his eyes.

“What do you even mean?” You asked exasperatedly and you let your hand fall away from his cheek. 

“I mean… You. You are my precious little Saint. You are my closest and dearest friend, and you are the love of my life. Did you know that?” He asked softly and then nudged the tip of his nose against yours. 

Your stomach dropped dramatically and you pulled your forehead away from his. You stared up at him with a shocked expression. 

There was absolutely no way.

You blinked a few times confusedly and then you laid your head back down against his chest and rested your hand over his heart, tapping your fingers against his kefta. 

“I am not.” You whispered and closed your eyes. 

“I’ll spend forever trying to convince you that you are, sweetheart. You’re mine. Don’t you see? You always have been. For five hundred years, you have been mine.” He murmured and pressed his lips against your ear as he spoke, “You are mine. No one else can have you. I’d kill whoever tried.” He breathed against the shell of your ear and it gave you goosebumps. You gathered the thick fabric of his lapels up in your fist and you shook your head a few times. 

“Deny it all you want, but I know you feel the same. I could feel it in your kiss, my sweet little star.” He mumbled and pressed a lingering kiss against your ear. 

Your mouth opened and closed stupidly and you let out a shaking breath.

“If I don’t deny it, you will one day shatter my heart.” You whispered and leaned closer to him.

The rain around you had slowed to a drizzle now and little beads of water were dripping from his hair down onto your cheeks as you laid on his chest. The very faint light of the stars behind the rain clouds in the night sky was enough for you to see the frown on his lips and he shook his head. 

“Never. I’ll never break your heart. Oh, it’s far too precious.” 

His words bounced back and forth in your head and you tugged his kefta gently, a particularly violent shiver ripping through your body. 

“Please, just take me somewhere warm. Somewhere safe. Somewhere with you.” You begged softly and hid your face against his wet clothes, “I’ll go wherever you go.”

He nodded once and gave you a little reassuring squeeze before he whispered something about home near your ear. The patter of the rain made it nearly impossible to make out entirely but what you did catch melted your heart. 

“… and it doesn’t matter where we go, because when I’m with you, it is home.” 

-

Little specks of rainbow light glimmered all over your bedroom, bouncing off of mirrors and glass to create even more little flecks of color throughout the room. The crystals on your dress sparked brilliantly as you stood in the window, watching the sun set. A deep purple horizon was settling over the land just beyond your windowpane and you let out a soft sigh. 

Your head was heavy with the weight of a brilliant crown, made of black metal and sharp, glimmering diamonds. Your silvery dress was tugged down with the weight of a thousand little crystals and you watched as their light refractions danced across your walls. You were a sight to see. 

Formidable, graceful, beautiful. 

You were a queen. 

Not just a queen. The Queen. 

Against all the odds, against every enemy, and against each and every opposer, Aleksander managed to take The Firebird as his own amplifier and he put an end to the incessant thorn in his side that was the Sun Summoner. 

His plan, no, both your plan and his had been entirely successful. For hundreds of years, Aleksander chased the crown. He waited patiently for it. Sat in the shadows, stalked, paced, and plotted for it. And it was finally his. The night he saved you from almost dying, he’d taken you to his sanctuary and promised you on both of his knees that he’d give you a crown and a love like you’d never known before and you’d never know again. 

He made good on both promises. 

The day had been eventful. After a long banquet in the morning, you’d been crowned queen in front of only Grisha while Aleksander was given the title of king. 

Aleksander Morozova. The Darkling King. 

His title made you shiver practically and you let out a soft sigh as you continued to watch the night sky swallow up the blue of the day with deep purples and pinks. 

It was over. It was all over. The war, the fighting, the conflict, all of it. Aleksander would now waste no time in stopping Grisha persecution all over Ravka and everything would be right in the world. 

“Is the Queen pleased with her view?” 

Two strong hands found their way around your waist and pulled you backwards. Your back was pressed up against Aleksander’s chest and you closed your eyes softly, leaning your head back against his shoulder. 

“Ah, very much so. Though, I think you’re the better view, my King.” You whispered. 

He swept all of your hair out of his way and lowered his lips down to the nape of your neck, trailing butterfly-wing-light kisses to your skin.  

“You flatter me.”

“Do you not deserve it?”

“Perhaps I do. But perhaps I don’t. If you find me worthy of flattery then I must be doing something right, angel.” He mumbled and dragged his lips around the side of your neck. 

“I find you worthy of all beautiful things.” You whispered and tipped your head to the side as he pressed his soft lips to your skin. 

“Ah, so I must be worthy of you.”

“Of course.” 

He hummed contently as he playfully nipped at your skin on your neck and he smiled into the side of your neck. 

“This country is ours now. Ours to have and ours to keep and ours to have, hold, and protect. How does that make you feel?” He asked softly and lifted his head away from your neck. He leaned his cheek against the side of your head and traced his fingers over your waist as he awaited your reply. 

It made you feel powerful. Strong. He made you feel that way. You loved him. You loved him more than words could possibly have ever said, and you were lucky that he loved you back. The Sun Summoner drew breath no longer, the former prince Nikolai sat in a cell underneath the Palace accused of treason, and Aleksander and you assumed the roles of the two most powerful Grisha to ever exist. You felt ecstatic.

You looked up at him and his eyes shifted down to yours and you gave him a little smile. 

“I’ll show you.”

And you stood up on your toes to reach him and you pressed a kiss to his lips. One of gratitude, one of happiness. 

One of five hundred years worth of love.