#Deep Sea Peach Tree | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hcdragonwrites · 8 months

Text

Missing Flowers ( @semisolidmind Fanfic)

I wrote this because I was inspired by another bit of work. This one is sweet ans short and Mac centric. Inspired by this ask! Twice as Bad Au make brain go brrrr

Tw for some violence mentions and some allusions to intimate behaviour (it is not detailed at all - in fact you may miss it entirely - but it is alluded to thats why I mention this)

As the sweet scents of spring created on the wind, carrying blossoms and the soft buzzing bodies of bumblebees, Peaches felt a deep pang of loss. Outside in the spring air, walking along the edge of the mountains with the small attendants she was given, she looked out beyond the sparkling sea. Beyond the mountains and the sky and all that lay between. She imagined she was looking homeward. To her village.

She missed her village, missed her people who she knew as family and as friends. She missed the smell of the earth, the taste of the rain on her tongue and how the sun angled itself through her shuttered windows to cast the dust motes in startling detail as they passed through the beams. It had been over a decade now since her marriage of ‘demonic fashion’ to the rulers of Flower Fruit Mountain. The ache never would go away- it would linger like a hole in her smile, a tooth lost and never replaced.

However it wasn’t her village today that was making her homesick.

Peaches had a little patch of earth, maybe an acre large that she had dedicated to the propagation of flowers and fruits, vegetables and all manner of growing things. It had taken years of careful selection, of collecting seeds from far and wide, of dedicated research and late nights in the snow and the ice and the building of her greenhouse to gather the collection she had had.

Peaches had turned the soil, mixing it with her grass clippings, ash from the fire place, and the compost to enrich it. It had been years of careful and quiet work to build her collection of plants. The glass bits for her greenhouse had costed her years and years of hard work. She had been unable to have it as large as she wanted but it was enough. Within the wooden little wall sat her favorite flowers, the precious few she had bargained and hunted for, the seeds and clippings, were all here safe within the wooden walls.

All her work over the past few years gone in a flash of fire and a slash of violence. What had happened to her little home? Was the house standing? Rotting in its neglect of the years. Did someone take over her home if it was still standing?

The stairs would need replacing. The second one had been creaking before her kidnapping. The wood had been softening and she had her eyes on a tree just beyond her garden. She had planned to cut it free and carve a new replacement. What of her animals? She had had a small herd of goats, little bleating creatures of brown and white.

The goats had been her source of fresh milk, meat and weed control. Each had been given a name. Each had been loved.

Had they been able to get away?

Had they been burned in the fire?

Peaches knew that the flowers and fruits she had were gone. Those couldn’t have escaped the fire - or the human retribution that would follow from any survivors.

Would Wukong have left survivors ? The Sage had come home many a times from such violence. He had woken her with cold hands grasping and seeking her out. He buried them in her hair or twined them in her fingers. Wukong would pull her to him and away from her own makeshift nest within their bed. In those early days he had not learned that the smell of fire and blood would upset her.

Those nights his blood had been on fire from conquest and he wanted only to enjoy the comfort of one of his dearest prizes. Her. Wukong would touch and whisper love into her ears as he fell asleep, a peace only she could bring in the aftermath of those bloodbaths. Sometimes she would wake in the morning to find blood smeared along her cheeks and in her hair.

It had been one of the times Macaque had found her hyperventilating after such a morning covered in blood that wasn’t hers, confused to where it could be from, and the memories of the night when the drunk had invaded her home.

And her world had changed. She had been pulled to his arms, her own chest pressing to his. Instructed to follow his breathing, to listen to the air whoosh from his body. To hold. Then to fill again like the bellows of a blacksmiths forge. And then to deflate.

When her breathing did not sound like the frantic flapping of a broken birds wing, thats when Macaque had asked her what happened. What had triggered her memories. Peaches asked how he knew- and her second husband rubbed a thumb beneath her eyes and caught a tear.

“You were screaming. Telling me to stop burning the village.” The words sounded sad. Not remorseful. Never remorseful for the actions that led here here. That brought her to residency in the mountain. The sadness was instead about the scars left behind, the invisible wounds that their actions had created.

After that, Wukong never came to bed smelling of blood or fresh from a conquest.

Wukong would never leave survivors of the village. Not after what he thought was a slight to her, to his perception of what was his. An extension of his own self importance. No. That seemed wrong even as Peaches thought it. Maybe she was an extension of his grandeur. But she wasn’t just a prize to be turned and looked at. Somehow, in some way, he had fallen in love with her.

Love for Wukong- for Macaque- was not like human love. Just as two peach trees could produce different fruits. Peaches knew that love between people was more of a communication, a build up to a relationship. At least in the best situations. Demons however … it was more draconic in a sense. To claim and catch, to conquer before another could take the prize between its claws and keep for themselves. Like dogs fighting over scraps, love was something to catch and hoard and keep.

Maybe it wasn’t so different from humans. Stories and mythologies had been woven of love like this. Men had gone to war and killed thousands of others in the name of one paramour, one love.

Wukong had done that. He had taken a conceived obstacle and removed it. He had snatched her as a wolf would steal a lamb in the cold of winter, taking her back to the mountain. Devouring her freedom to secure his happiness. When his brother came to see, to wonder at why their paramour was here. It hadn’t taken much convincing. It was as natural as breathing to take in their world.

Peaches attendants, those young ladies, waited patiently. Peaches stared out across the world and wished she had the eyes of eagles to stare and devour the miles so she could see for herself.

Was her garden truly gone? Had anything wild had been left behind ?

Had the apple trees gone wild? Were green granny smiths now growing wild among the pink ladys and dorsett goldens? Were the nectarines falling from the trees to rot beautifully in a horrid flash of sweet sick decay? Did the bees still pollinate whatever roses and hydrangeas survived ?

Had the fire consumed everything?

She missed her garden. Her plants. She missed her home.

She had been so lost in thought that she didn’t notice how her Ladies in waiting called out- she didn’t notice the shadow length beneath her feet. Until suddenly the ground was not ground at all but a gaping black hole- and she fell screaming.

Right into a warm embrace and soft fur that smelled like orange blossoms and plum wine. Laughter bubbled out of Macaque bare chest. “I would think the Queen would be more aware of her surroundings by now.”

Peaches pulled away enough to hook her husband with a scowl. It was half hearted as the demonic monkey dipped downward and pressed his lips to the side of her face in soft peppered kisses. Peaches laughed at the affection, able to ease into the comfort that the six eared macaque had grown between them. The chestnut trees above them rattled like ladies whispering as casting the sunlight like dice over a game.

“Some brutes don’t walk - some slink in shadows.” Peaches teased back. She lifted a hand up and along Macaques face. Her fingers touched his ears- all six on display today instead of being glamoured and hidden. The large clawed hand tightened beneath her as she brushed her hands over them. Macaque leaned into her touch, pressing his face, and her hand, into hers.

“Slink?” The monkey teased. They were beneath a cluster of chestnut and beech trees. A whole new position upon the mountain - possibly leagues across the great kingdom.

“Slink?” Macaque nipped her ear and she yelped in surprise- cheeky like. “I do not slink.”

And then the stomach flip as the magic pulled them in. The very shadows that seemed to seep and flow through macaques black fur, the ebbing of ocean currents between the jetties of his being. The cold kissed her nose, the sun flashed. Peaches blinked as the orientation of the sky reasserted itself. They were closer to Water Curtain cave now. The mosses and lichens that grew in the soft moisture were tell tale signs.

“I merely use what I have to my advantage.”The Six Eared Macaque pulled his wife into himself as he began to walk. In her decade here she had begun to see the mountain like a second skin. Each turn of stone was becoming like a new crease in her skin. Here she understood that, even though the forest was near the palace, it was no where she had treaded recently.

Her husband was taking her somewhere. But where ?

“You left my ladies in distress.” Peaches asked. The steps against the forest floor were soothing. Would she allow herself to be soothed ? It was easier for Peaches to forget the scars that marred her when it was Macaque. With Wukong …

It would always be a sore spot. Always be cut that had healed too thin and the scar left behind would ache in the cold.

“I left them with a note that said I was taking my wife for a moment.”

How different the world would be if they had just asked her to come with them. Had the two brothers even floated the idea between each other? Thought to show her the beautiful mountain and let her fall into it and in love with it ? Peaches knew she would have come. The beauty here was unmatched - the fruits and flowers and plants and growing things would have stolen her away faster then a demons courting could ever achieve. If her boys had only asked her… only shown her….

“How are you Peaches ?” Macaques voice was soft.

“I am… far away.” She decided to be honest.

“The memories again?” Soft, gentle. Her sweet boy was still there. Still within this … sorrow. Peaches had found the little monkey bleeding among her hydrangeas and honeysuckle. The white and purple petals were turned crimson and crushed beneath the tiny body. Of course he had been a wild thing, a furious flash of teeth and claws. Any animal would be. So when the weak little monkey bit into her hand she hadn’t flinched. Instead she had waited, taking a blanket to scoop the poor creature up and into her arms- and to contain those claws. The bite was foolish- what she did was foolish- but… she was a foolish women.

The bite was deep, the pain a lance in her mind. Those teeth were large enough, sabers in gums - knives of nature that cut into the soft pad of her flesh. He didn’t let go, he didn’t release her hand until the blood on his flank was cleaned. Until the gash in his side had been sewed shut. He was too weak to worry her flesh into ruin. To take his pain and tear her apart. He could have. Though small, though at a disadvantage, the little was gifted with weapons where Peaches had been gifted none. She was soft handed, soft as a magnolia flower. No claws no teeth no strength.

Yet he did not tear her apart. The tiny monkey was left alone after he was patched up. A bowl of water, a small basket of peeled mandarins. And the window- left open to let in the wet jungle air. Her kindness had cost her her hand- the day after it was purple and swollen. It was hard to work in the soil- to work in the garden and her little farm. She had carrots to pull, goats to milk, and trees to prune. By the end of the day she could barely close the hand and it had grown yellow on top of the purple. Like a plum trampled enough to ruin the flesh but not enough to break it open.

The next morning however, when she unwrapped to tend the wound and let it breath… she found the wrappings clean. The swelling was gone. The punctures were still there. But…. They had healed over.

She had been a fool. Peaches had thought it was from her tending that the wound had healed up. She had been a fool. Who would have known that her foolish heart would lead to this future?

“Its not just the memories- its a memory.” They had stopped walking now.

“Which one?” The leaves rustled above them. The air smelled of water and earth and stone. It was … calming. So the memory coming forward now wasn’t cast in sorrow. But in calm.

“Of you.” She reached up and pressed a finger to the very tip of his nose. “Of the garden. When we first met.”

Macaque grimaced.

“Not my best introduction...” He looked down at her hand. The scar was still there, silver moons along her skin.

“Are you embarrassed?”Peaches teased. Macaque paused. He set her down onto her feet, kneeling. His hands caught her wrist- the one he had scared all those years ago- and brought it to his face.

“Truly I am. I mauled your hand.”He kissed it, rubbed a claw over the scars, worried at it with his lips and his tender forehead brushes.

“You were in pain. And you healed it.” Peaches pulled him up. Off his knees. In these moments, these tender touches, was the sweetness that had grown between them. There was the flash of that little monkey she had saved. Who had slowly begun to bring her gifts and treasures. His first gift had never been showed. Macaque had never been talked about- as it had required secrecy.

“Lao Tzi had chased me out.” The simian smiled into her face, teeth flashing like moonlight. “Heaven was in an uproar over my thievery. But … they thought I was Wukong.”

“Mac!” She beat on his shoulder in play. Roaring laughter was rewarded to her as the trickier of the two loomed over and draped his arms over her front, pressing her back to his chest.

“I couldn’t let them know it was me!” His teeth were in her hair, soft croons and gentle nips being pressed to her skin. “I was in a bit of a hurry.”

Her cheeky six eared husband then began to press her and tease her in a very flirtatious fashion that turned Peaches skin flushed and burning. It was long moments and minutes after the teasing and the stolen presses of kisses and promises for later, that Peaches decided to open her heart a bit more to him.

“I miss it all. I miss the house and the village and …. I miss the garden the most. All my plants. My animals…” Peaches rested her face in his arm, drinking in the plum wine and orange blossom smell that was so thickly wrapped in his fur.

“All the growing things… do you think they are still there ?” It was easy to think of it here, when Macaque had been kind and soft to her. When he understood what emotional wounds were still healing, still painfully sore. The rush of his heart was against her ear was nice.

“Have they gone wild and returned to the woods ? What of the roses- they are the hardest here to tend. And the magnolia trees….” A bird flitted and flew its way between the emerald leaves. A dolphin flying through a sea of emerald green.

Macaque spun her suddenly, his hand gripping hers, his tail flicking. She was pulled along, hands grasping his as they walked faster.

“Lets walk. We will go and see the orchards and you will tell me all the flowers you had and loved and never got to tend.”

“I would tell you anyway.” Peaches laughed softly. “I loved my flowers.”

The look of serious thought didn’t alleviate in the wake of her laughter.

“You will tell me in detail and what seasons they grow- and what habitats they grow in. Who the traders were that gave you the seeds and the clippings.” They rounded the corner of a stone outcropping, the path before them becoming more well trodden. The path to the orchards.

“And I want you to find a piece of the mountain- get that foolish orange orangutang of my brother to help you clear it and drain it and turn its soil rich.”

The realization was dawning on Peaches then.

“Ma-Macaque…” Was he suggesting what her heart was starting to hope?

“You get the land ready.” His fingers squeezed hers. “I will collect the seeds in my journeys. I will find the best lines and horticulturists and gather you a collection that will rival the one we foolishly took from you.”

His eyes held hers. It had the same effect that a sunrise had on a snow trapped forest. The light in them was refracted and doubled as Peaches felt her heart fill. She didn’t realize that tears were dripping until Macaque was reaching up to coo and rub them free, calling to her in comforting familial tones a monkey would use to soothe an create comfort.

“And I will be able to play within your garden and see you smile like you just did. I would bring down the lunar gardens to see you smile again… as you did when i first saw you in that garden. ”

#hcwrites #hcfanfics #writing stuff #twice as bad au #bad end wukong #fanfic for semisolid #HERE YOU GO. A SWEET ONE #A MAC CENTRIC ONE #I see mac as a sweetheart #hes a good boy even though hes just as murdery and violence filled as his brother #jttw au #jttw tag #sun wukong #jttw fanfic #lmk #lmk fanfiction #six eared macaque #sem #bad end wukong weeeeee #this one was nice to pull out some other language i never use #just a fun little one #THIS IS NOT THE ONE FOLLOWING UP TO THE TIGER ON THE MOUNTAIN #I just wanted to write Mac pledging to get Peaches her garden back #because of course he would also love that garden- and her having come upon him #yes i think mac would have stolen some sort of healing potion or pill from the immortals #i mean #he did bite the fuck out of her hand #and those teeth?!!#peaches is glad he wasnt at any sort of mental place to shake and tear apart her skin #like a shark she would have been torn apart

346 notes · View notes

apoemaday · 9 months

Text

Have You Ever Tried to Enter the Long Black Branches?

by Mary Oliver

Have you ever tried to enter the long black branches of other lives– tried to imagine what the crisp fringes, full of honey, hanging from the branches of the young locust trees, in early morning, feel like? Do you think this world was only an entertainment for you? Never to enter the sea and notice how the water divides with perfect courtesy, to let you in! Never to lie down on the grass, as though you were the grass! Never to leap to the air as you open your wings over the dark acorn of your heart! No wonder we hear, in your mournful voice, the complaint that something is missing from your life! Who can open the door who does not reach for the latch? Who can travel the miles who does not put one foot in front of the other, all attentive to what presents itself continually? Who will behold the inner chamber who has not observed with admiration, even with rapture, the outer stone? Well, there is time left– fields everywhere invite you into them. And who will care, who will chide you if you wander away from wherever you are, to look for your soul? Quickly, then, get up, put on your coat, leave your desk! To put one’s foot into the door of the grass, which is the mystery, which is death as well as life, and not be afraid! To set one’s foot in the door of death, and be overcome with amazement! To sit down in front of the weeds, and imagine god the ten-fingered, sailing out of his house of straw, nodding this way and that way, to the flowers of the present hour, to the song falling out of the mockingbird’s pink mouth, to the tippets of the honeysuckle, that have opened in the night To sit down, like a weed among weeds, and rustle in the wind! Listen, are you breathing just a little, and calling it a life? While the soul, after all, is only a window, and the opening of the window no more difficult than the wakening from a little sleep. Only last week I went out among the thorns and said to the wild roses: deny me not, but suffer my devotion. Then, all afternoon, I sat among them. Maybe I even heard a curl or two of music, damp and rouge red, hurrying from their stubby buds, from their delicate watery bodies. For how long will you continue to listen to those dark shouters, caution and prudence? Fall in! Fall in! A woman standing in the weeds. A small boat flounders in the deep waves, and what’s coming next is coming with its own heave and grace. Meanwhile, once in a while, I have chanced, among the quick things, upon the immutable. What more could one ask? And I would touch the faces of the daises, and I would bow down to think about it. That was then, which hasn’t ended yet. Now the sun begins to swing down. Under the peach-light, I cross the fields and the dunes, I follow the ocean’s edge. I climb, I backtrack. I float. I ramble my way home.

#poetry #mary oliver #have you ever tried to enter the long black branches

393 notes · View notes

harudnae · 4 months

Text

I posted a fic already today, but it's the weekend so here's an extra snack!

I was really obsessed with them when I started writing this so a very horny, very smutty Roger Pirates Monster Trio x Reader fic. This one might be a bit unhinged but hey, at least I had fun!

Well, actually I'm still obsessed so there will be more fics with them.

Also, regarding word count: YES I went overboard. There's roughly 3k of padding around pure smut, you've been warned.

I told you: obsessed.

Also posted on AO3 on 2024.01.19

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Gaban x Rayleigh x Roger x F!Reader (mostly everyone x Reader but every other subcombination is either implied or explicitly included)

Summary: A luxurious summer island, fresh supplies galore, including ripe, sweet and slightly spicy, absolutely delicious but unidentified fruit. What could possibly go wrong?

(A stupidly horny story where Reader's curiosity gets the better out of her, and she gets completely wrecked in return.)

Content warnings : aphrodisiacs, oral sex (Reader giving & receiving), vaginal sex, anal sex, squirting, creampie, sloppy seconds, double penetration, orgasm denial

Word count: <16k

🍑 Forbidden Fruit

After long weeks at sea, the Oro Jackson moors at an uninhabited summer island.

Part of the crew sets up camp under Rayleigh and Gaban's supervision, and the rest is tasked with gathering fresh food.

You got your sea legs long ago, but it's always nice to set foot on firm land once in a while, so you're grateful for the occasion. You've been sent out with the latter group and after scattering in every direction, you're exploring a section of the forest by yourself. The vegetation is dense so you need to rummage through thick bushes to find spots of interest, but you manage to pick up fruits, veggies and herbs that you know of, making sure everything is either ripe and ready to consume, or that it can wait a bit and will still be easily manageable once you're back at sea.

A sweet scent catches your attention and leads you to a small clearing a little further inland. There's a tree there, with bunches of fruits dangling from its branches, a little smaller than apples, deep orange marbled with crimson lines.

You grab a fruit and curiously examine it, feeling the velvety texture of its skin and inhaling its scent. "Ooh, smells like honey, I wonder if it's good?" You carefully press your thumbs into the fruit and it easily splits open, smearing your fingers with sweet juice. You pick the kernel out and tear a small bit from the fruit that you bring to your mouth.

It's tender and soft, melting on your tongue, sweet as expected though not too much, and slightly spicy as you swallow.

You groan in delight. "That's so good! Everyone is going to love this!" You fill up a full basket with the sweet fruit, eating a few of them on the way back to camp. Happy with your findings, you hum a song as you carry the basket full of delicious fruits towards the rest of the supplies.

Crocus sniffs the air as you pass by him, and curiously gazes up.

You beam. "Smells good, huh? I found those earlier!" You proudly show the contents of your basket.

Crocus frowns. "Uh, yeah, but that's a big no. You're going to put that back right where you found it, or this is going to be a long night ashore."

You frown. "Why?"

"Those are fire peaches. The sweet, honey-like scent those have? Basically aphrodisiac juice. The riper those peaches are, the stronger the aphrodisiac is. You gathered enough to turn this whole camp into a literal fuck-fest in a few hours, so..." As he trails out his gaze briefly flickers towards the cabin boys. "That won't do. Sorry, you'll have to find something else." He curiously tilts his head as he glances back at you. "You okay, (y/n)? You look a little pale."

"Uh. Just glad I didn't give any of these to anyone yet", you stiffly say.

Crocus squints. "You didn't eat any either?"

You quickly nod the negative. "Nope!" You force a smile then turn around and make a beeline for the forest. Once you're far enough from the camp you drop the basket, and slump down against a tree, holding your head between your hands. "Fuck... And I ate four of them? Five, maybe? No, nononono this can't be happening. And I lied to Crocus too, so there's no way I can go back on my word now. I'll have to manage somehow... Oh, fuck, I'm so screwed. Fuck!!"

The traitorous fruits, ripe and enticing, seem to taunt you from the basket where they lay.

"Oh, I am so getting rid of you", you grumble, then resume your walk, going as deep into the forest as you can to make sure nobody finds those damned peaches. Once you're done, you gather some more safe fruit and backtrack to join the rest of the crew. You're slightly light-headed when you're back by sunset, and the basket on your head wobbles a little. You try your best to balance it until your reach the tent where the supplies are stocked, but it's slipping from your grasp. "Oh–"

"There, there", Gaban says as he helps you balance the basket on your head again. "You good?"

"Yeah, a little dizzy is all." You clear your throat. "Summer islands, hot weather and all that", you quickly dismiss with a wave of your free hand.

"I'll help you then", Gaban offers, not giving you time or space for refusal as he grabs the basket, tagging alongside you as you store the fruit under a tent.

You take a deep breath once under the shade, it's a little cooler under the tent but the dizziness is still here, so you sit on the ground, not really hopeful but still wishing it'll go away.

Gaban curiously observes you. "If you feel that bad you should go to Crocus."

You fight against the urge to cringe at his words, and offer him a weak smile. "It's fine, really. I promise I'm fine, don't worry."

You're not fine.

Captain Roger called for a party when the sun came down, and everyone got busy with preparing a feast with what everyone found, drinks and everything. If any other occasion would have been a blast for you as well, tonight proves to be quite harder to handle than usual.

You don't drink much because your head has already been spinning for a while, and you have trouble focusing on something else than the urgently growing need inside of you. You tell yourself that you'll go to sleep early, probably masturbate for an hour or two, and everything will be alright, surely? Just the thought of touching yourself forces a tiny moan out from your lips. Bewildered, you quickly glance around you, glad everyone is having fun and being loud enough that nobody heard you. You exhale a strained sigh, swallow around the lump in your throat, then you move away from the rest of the group with the firm intent to lock yourself in your cabin and do whatever you can to deal with your demise, alone.

You're barely outside camp when you hear Gaban's voice behind you. "(y/n), you okay?"

"I'm perfectly fine", you snap back and keep walking.

"Hey, is something wrong?", he asks as he grabs your arm.

You inhale a sharp breath and stiffen at the contact, warm and tingling. You quickly pull your arm out of reach and turn to him, wide-eyed.

Gaban stops dead in his tracks and curiously observes you. "You've been acting weird since earlier. Please, open up, I mean no harm."

Glancing down to avoid his gaze, your eyes find the hand that held you back, already dreaming to feel the contact of bare skin against yours again... Your eyes are drawn to his defined arm, his strong shoulder, his neck, and your head spins again as you observe the moonlight playing on his tanned skin, so kissable, making you wonder how he tastes... You finally reach his face, and find him so fucking handsome even with the worried frown creasing his forehead. Why is he so hot?

Gaban slightly tilts his head. "(y/n)?"

You shake your head to clear it from dangerous thoughts, and clear your throat. "I'm fine, I promise, I just need some sleep", you lie, hoping to get away with it.

"I'll walk you back, then."

You open your mouth to protest but your words die in your throat, suddenly dry at the mental images your brain conjures out of nowhere.

Gaban removes his glasses and leans in a little to make eye contact. "I'm worried about you, I just want to make sure you're doing good, alright?"

You stare at his mouth as he speaks, and you wet your own lips as your gaze drifts to the side only to fall onto his arm again. Fuck, I want him to hold me so bad... You close your eyes and try to ignore more mental images spawning behind your eyelids, then you straighten up and briskly resume your walk. "Whatever", you weakly say, heat rising up to your face.

Gaban walks by your side. "Did something happen?"

You stubbornly watch the path in front of you. "No."

"I don't buy it. Usually you're not that cold."

You huff a startled laugh. Actually, it's quite the opposite. "I told you... I'm just tired, that's it", you snap, a little more harshly than you intended.

"You look... pretty angry, rather than tired."

You heavily sigh.

"Not angry, annoyed maybe? Still, that's unlike you."

You hold your tongue and try your best not to acknowledge Gaban's body warmth as he walks closer to you. You quicken your pace a little, trying to put more distance between you and him.

"Either way, not tired."

You roll your eyes and keep walking in silence. Finally, hopes flares in your chest as you reach the ship. You grab the closest rope ladder and turn to him. "That's it, I'm going to bed. Thanks for everything."

He offers you a worried frown and a soft smile. "You sure?"

Fuck, he's really cute. Your gaze flickers to the side as you squirm on your feet, pressing your thighs together in an attempt to contain the fire growing inside you. "Yeah, I swear", you plead and look back up at him.

"Oi." Gaban grabs your face between his hands, studying you under the moonlight.

You can't repress a needy whine under his warm touch. Close, so close, so warm. You close your eyes, mortified.

"Look at me."

The order makes you squirm a little more, and you open your eyes again, pursing your lips in shame.

"What's wrong with your eyes?"

You blink. "What?"

"Um, I really think Crocus should see you."

"No, no! Please don't tell him", you beg, grabbing his forearms and trying to push him away.

"Sorry, not sorry, you're coming back to camp with me."

"You can't make me", you weakly protest, then you turn back towards the ship.

You barely set a first foot on the rope ladder when Gaban wraps his hands around your waist, and throws you over his shoulder. "Like hell I can't", he huffs.

The feeling of his hands around your waist, his body warmth you feel through your clothes, and the fact that he has no trouble handling you like this makes the fire inside you flare up. It takes you a couple of minutes to calm down, and only once you managed to even your breathing you realize he's walking back to the camp. "Gaban... Put me down", you whine.

"Nuh-huh. I don't know what's going on but you're not in your normal state."

"Please, you don't understand... I mean–" You sigh in defeat. "I'll see Crocus, I promise I will, but please, I don't want to be in the middle of everyone right now." Too much people, too warm, too sensitive.

Gaban sets you back on the ground, and firmly grabs your shoulders. "Look, I don't know what's going on but I'll be damned if I leave you like this."

You stiffen at the contact but do your best to focus on what he says.

"I can bring him back. But will you wait?"

You urgently nod.

He points at a fallen tree. "Alright, you sit there. If you're not here when I come back–"

"I will, I swear", you cut him. At this point it's no use hiding anymore, so you might as well get a proper diagnosis and maybe even some medicine to counter the effects of the goddamn fire peaches. You sit on the trunk in defeat, and focus on your breathing while you wait.

Gaban comes back a few minutes later with the doctor in tow, and sits on the trunk next to you.

Crocus kneels in front of you, and frowns as he examines your eyes. Then he shakes his head, heavily sighing. "How many fire peaches did you eat?"

You cringe and look between your feet. "Four? Five?"

Crocus huffs. "Thought so."

Gaban asks, "Fire peaches?"

Crocus sighs again. "Long story short, a powerfully aphrodisiac fruit. (y/n) brought some earlier, I warned her, she said she didn't eat any and went to throw everything away... and now we're here."

"Oh."

"How long is it gonna last?", you weakly ask, still glaring at the ground.

"Well, with the size of your pupils right now, I'd say you're in for a long, long night." The doctor shrugs. "Maybe 'til sunrise."

"Please, please tell me you have medicine against this. I can't spend the whole night like that."

"I'm afraid I don't! And I heard it can be painful if not relieved too, so... You might need to find someone willing to help you with–" He vaguely gestures at you with a hand. "...that."

"No, no, this can't be happening", you desperately whine as you bury your head between your hands, squirming on your seat as tears threaten to spill from your eyes. You wish you could dig a hole deep enough to disappear into it.

Gaban clears his throat.

You give him a shy side-glance, noticing only now that he's been silent for a while.

He asks Crocus, "How painful?"

"Hmm, enough that any painkiller I have wouldn't change much. It supposedly gets worse as time passes, and with the amount she ate? I'm fairly sure it'll be awful. To be honest there's not much I can do at this point, but she'd rather be far from camp and in good company."

A darker shade dusting his cheeks, Gaban declares, "Okay. I'll do it."

You open wide eyes and your mouth falls a little agape.

He turns to you and softly explains, "That way, nobody else has to know. I understand now why you didn't want to join the rest of the crew earlier, and I don't want you to go through any more trouble."

You blink in disbelief.

"Great, then that's settled!" Crocus claps his knees and gets up. "Don't forget to drink lots of water, or you'll risk dehydration. Oh, and fire peaches are slightly psychoactive too, it tends to... loosen up people, lower their inhibitions and all that, so..." He waves as he returns to the party. "Have fun!"

Gaban stands up and offers his hand to help you up.

You exhale a shaky breath as you get up, the mere contact of his skin sending another powerful wave of arousal through your body. You have trouble breathing evenly as you walk back to the ship, eyes locked on the path under your feet. "I'm sorry", you murmur after a quiet while.

"What for?"

"For lying to you. To Crocus, too, and... now it's my fault you're stuck with me."

He thoughtfully hums. "I don't like that you lied, but I understand. It's not like you ate those fire peaches on purpose, right?" There's a pause, then he quietly says, "And I'm not "stuck", I offered my help because I wanted to."

You give him a side-glance. "You wanted to?", you echo in disbelief.

Cheeks a shade pinker than earlier, a shy smile lifting the corners of his mouth. "Yeah. I'd rather–" He clears his throat. "I mean, it's bad enough that those fire peaches are strong enough to put you into physical pain, so I want to make sure you're okay."

The fire inside you keeps growing, and Gaban's kind attentions don't appease it much. You side-eye him as you reach the ship, let him help you up the rope ladder. Once you're in front of his cabin you turn to him and quietly ask, "Gaban?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't want to force you to do anything..."

"I told you I wanted to help."

You hold onto your wavering lucidity and press further, "Yeah, but... Would you do this if not for the fire peaches?"

His frown softens, a smile curls his lips. "Yeah, I would."

You sigh of relief, and as your shoulders are relieved from some tension you slump a little on yourself.

Gaban slides an arm around your waist for support. "Hey..."

You lean into his strong embrace, eyes fluttering shut as you bask in his warmth, yet yearning for his bare skin against yours.

"I'm sorry about the circumstances but... I wouldn't have volunteered if I wasn't into you."

You look up, slightly dizzy again. "Really?"

He nods and offers you his sweetest smile.

Your gaze lingers on his lips, you absentmindedly lick yours, and what's left of your resolve snaps there and then. You lean up to kiss him, wrapping your hands around his neck for support.

Gaban kisses you back, soft and gentle, and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close.

You sigh of delight and slide your tongue between his parted lips, moaning into his mouth as you taste him. Your fingers tighten around his shirt, pulling him closer as you tilt your head to deepen the kiss, and you buck your hips towards him, seeking more friction.

He leans back a little, breaking the kiss, and reaches out for the door to his cabin behind you. "Let's get inside", he invitingly says, softly smiling.

You blink and realize you're still out on the deck. Crap, I'm already far gone. You rub the back of your head in embarrassment "Sorry", you sheepishly murmur as you get through the door.

"Trouble holding back?", he asks as he locks the door behind you.

You turn your attention back to him. "Yeah..."

Gaban moves back into your personal space and grabs your waist. "That's flattering", he says before leaning in to kiss you. He's bolder now, claiming your mouth and swallowing your moans, while his hands roam your back and sides. His hands are warm, so warm, making your skin tingle under his touch and crave direct contact.

Why are you still wearing clothes, again? Lost in sensation, you don't even notice he's walking you around until you bump backwards into the bed. You hurriedly climb onto the mattress and hungrily gaze as Gaban comes to lay next to you. Mind foggy, craving more, you straddle his hips and rock your hips as your hands explore the broad expanse of his chest.

He swallows under your eager touches.

You bite your lower lip and untie his sash, then remove his shirt. You lift a very interested eyebrow and stare a little longer than necessary once the irrelevant garments are out of the way. Your hands lay on his narrow hips, thumb tracing the sharp dip of the bone, then they travel up. Your fingertips tingle as his sun-kissed skin radiates warmth beneath yours, taut muscle flexing then relaxing under your touch as you move up, idly playing with his chest hair as you reach his pectorals. An irrepressible urge to taste him blooms inside you and you lean in to do just that.

Gaban exhales a deep hum and places his hands on your hips when you kiss his neck, and his fingertips slightly dig into your flesh as you start licking and nibbling your way down his shoulder.

A few encouraging moans only fuel your arousal further, and you gently bite his shoulder, before moving further down, nibbling his skin and tongue flicking over his nipples while your hands keep groping him. You want his skin, want his voice, want to eat him raw, ready to do anything to quench the insatiable hunger setting your nerves on fire. You're licking his happy trail with an appreciative groan when he places a hand on your nape, prompting you to look up.

He removes his glasses and meets your gaze, his cheeks flushed a dark shade of pink. "You okay?"

You lazily smile and nod the affirmative, licking another long stripe up his abs to prove your point.

His fingers tighten around your nape as he exhales a strained moan, then he cups your chin and tilts your head up a little, looking down with intent. "Why don't I take care of you, too, huh?"

You blink and buck your hips, finding your underwear soaked already. You lick your lips. "Yes, yes please..." You lay by his side and help him undress you, the lukewarm air in the cabin coming in stark contrast to you own temperature, raising goosebumps on your heated skin. You open your mouth to complain about it but your voice breaks the moment he sets his hands on you.

Sitting next to you, he showers you in gentle touches, fingertips leaving sparks of pleasure across your body as he softly gropes and caresses, slowly exploring.

You urge him for more and start moaning as his hands press harder into your skin, appreciating the soft give of your flesh. "Please, more..."

Gaban slides a hand under your back and gently lifts you up a little, smirks at your curious gaze then leans in to lick the closest nipple.

"Oh, fuck yes." Your hands tangle in his thick curly hair and you pull him closer. You hiss as he catches your drift and leans in to suck your tit, then you press him harder against you, craving the feeling of his mouth around your skin.

He switches sides as he lays you back down on the mattress, then moves further down, peppering your tummy with needy wet kisses as his hands keep playing with your chest.

You rub your thighs together, desperate to quell the ache growing between them, and squirm under Gaban while he kisses his way across your hip.

He pushes your thighs open and kneels between them, thumbs tracing soothing circles against your skin. "You good?", he asks with a slightly worried frown.

You wet your lips. "Yeah... Want you, need you."

Gaban softly smiles. "Can do", he says, and he dives in without further ado.

You exhale a low throaty groan as he latches his mouth on you and eagerly eats you out, tongue exploring your folds and gently teasing the swollen length hidden beneath, and you tilt your hips for better access.

Gaban wraps his arms around your thighs while his tongue slides inside you, tasting you in the most intimate way possible.

You let out another few sinful moans when you feel the wet muscle caressing your inner walls, and a weak whine as the tip of his nose rubs the underside of your clit. You try to wriggle for more contact but his strong grip holds you firmly in place. You throw him a pleading glance as your hands grip at the bedsheets.

He looks up, and you feel the smile between your thighs as he slides his tongue deeper.

You throw your head back on the pillow and let him do as he pleases – not that you would do much against it anyway, and your mind is too hazy to do more than just relish in such a treat. You're positively light-headed within a few minutes, heavily panting with an orgasm steadily building up and not caring anymore about how loud you voice your enjoyment of your current situation. You barely register when one of his hands leaves your thigh, and in a haze, you don't pick up why you feel like you can move a little more, so you look down.

You lock eyes with Gaban at the moment he slides two thick fingers inside you and curls them just right. He hums around your clit as you close your eyes and mewl, then he starts sucking your swollen length, rubbing his fingertips against your sweet spot until you squirt around them.

Your climax takes you by surprise, fast and short-lived, long as a yelp but very intense, strong enough to leave you breathless and trembling on the bed.

As you regain your breath Gaban pulls his fingers out and smiles against your inner thigh, peppering it with soft kisses. "You're still good?"

Your inner walls flutter around nothing, still throbbing from the recent orgasm yet aching for more. You exhale a weak chuckle. "Oh, yeah. I want more, though."

Gaban hums and dives back in to repeat the whole process, adding a third finger and spreading them out to rub your inner walls.

Your hands move from the bedsheets to his head, tangling in his dark hair, and you gently tug the curly strands to keep him where it feels better. "Fuck– oh, right there..."

Your clit throbs under Gaban's tongue as he hums around you, and he keeps pressing into the swollen spot inside you, spreading his fingertips and rubbing them around, never leaving it untouched.

You pull on his hair when he sucks harder, and the low rumble of his voice as he groans against your cunt in return sends you over the edge again.

Gaban flattens his tongue over your swollen length and presses it hard, lowly humming against you as you ride your high. He stays there a little while more as you fall limp again, and his jaw is a little slack as he leans back up, eyes full of desire as he observes you.

You barely found your breath again when you meet his lust-filled gaze, and the fire inside you grows anew. You exhale a breathless chuckle and announce, "My turn."

Gaban frowns. "Huh?"

You sit up and push him down to the mattress, licking your lips.

"You–"

"I want to taste you, too", you huskily say as your hands finds his still clothed erection, throbbing under your touch.

His Adam's apple moves up and down as he swallows.

You lean in to lick a stripe down the column of his throat, and you smile against his skin when he exhales a throaty groan. Your mouth next explores downwards, kissing, nibbling and licking your way down, tongue lapping a few beads of sweat as you inhale Gaban's scent, hands idly palming at the broad expanse of his torso.

"Oh, fuck– Mmh, that feels good..."

Arousal spiking under his praise, you scoot next to him as you slide his underwear down, then kneel between his parted thighs.

Gaban looks at you, face flush a shade darker. "You sure?"

"Oh, yeah", you nod.

"You don't have to if you– ngh!"

You wrap your hand around his already leaking cock and give an experimental stroke. "I want this. Wanted this for a while, actually. Those damn fire peaches only made me want you more", you huskily say before leaning in to lick a long stripe up the throbbing shaft, eyeing his reaction.

Gaban struggles to keep eye contact while you wet the pulsating vein underneath and tease his frenulum, and exhales a strained moan. "Just wanted to make sure– Oh, fuck–"

You engulf him and swirl your tongue around the flared tip, humming in delight around the pulse beating against your tongue. You lap a few beads of precum at his tip then start bobbing your head up and down, trying to fit more of his cock with each movement.

"Holy shit– Nghh, this is so good..."

You hollow your cheeks on the upstroke, letting spit and precum well in your mouth and dribble down your chin. You look up then, and can't suppress a husky moan at the sight.

Gaban's propped on his elbows, gripping at the bedsheets and frowning in an obvious attempt to restrain himself, lust-filled eyes trained on you, his sun-kissed skin shining with a sheen layer of sweat and his upper body tense under your doings.

You suck harder and gaze up for a few more moments, committing the heavenly sight to memory for later use. Then you lean up, releasing him with one last run of your tongue across his rock hard cock. Then you roughly lick your lips and raise your hand to his, digging fingertips into his closed fist. "You don't have to hold yourself, you know."

Gaban's eyelid twitches. "I don't want to hurt you", he sheepishly says.

"You can still be rough, though."

Gaban cracks a sly smile. "I'm lucky you're so feisty..."

"Hungry", you correct and dive back in mouth first, sliding your lips around his girth until you feel his tip throbbing at the back of your throat.

Gaban loudly groans and instantly cards a hand into your hair, tangling strong fingers into your hair and just barely holding you in place before he pulls your head up a little. "You–"

"Mh-hmm?", you hum around his cock, tongue swirling around his tip.

"You're so– ngh! So, so fucking good..."

You lean back in and resume blowing him off, taking in as much as you can.

Gaban's hand remains into your hair, gently pressing fingertips into your scalp as he hisses and moans under your doings, guiding you but never forcing you down on him.

You deepthroat him anyway, not caring in the least that you're drooling spit and precum all over him – you're hoping to give a good show too, you want him to want you as much as you do, you want to drive him crazy and have him wreck you. His moans, his touch, the way he throbs against your tongue are enough to make the fire within you burn again, but it's the suddenly stronger taste of precum that makes it flare brighter. Your insides clench around nothing, and you exhale a needy whimper.

Gaban's cock throbs in return, and he tugs on your hair, pulling you all the way up, out of breath as he gazes at you with darkened eyes.

You lick your lips and instantly move up to straddle him, rubbing your dripping cunt against his pulsating cock. "I want you so bad it hurts", you whine.

He exhales a low moan, then he guides his length between your folds while you lift your hips up.

You adjust the angle of your hips and spread your juices around his tip as you tease your dripping entrance, then you sink down in one go and push your hips back, throwing your head backwards and exhaling a low satisfied groan once you're fully seated. Your inner walls flutter around him when you look back down.

Gaban's face is flushed red, obviously aroused albeit a little bewildered by your eagerness, heavily panting as he places his hands over your hips, gently squeezing.

You smirk and rock your hips, moaning as you adjust your position and start moving faster. "Oh, fuck yeah", you breathe out as you ride him, eyelids falling down as you focus on the sensations inside you. You're so full, your inner walls stretching out to accommodate him, the constant throbbing and rubbing against all the good places inside you...

Gaban's grip tightens on your hips. "I'm close, (y/n), I–"

You open your eyes and roll your hips harder as you hold his gaze. "I want to feel you cum inside me", you say without missing a beat.

"Oh, fuck–" Gaban's eyes roll back a little before he makes eye contact again. His fingertips dig into your hips a little more as he guides you, grinding his hips harder into you. He huskily growls, "You really want this?"

"Uh-huh", you nod the affirmative, biting on your lower lip.

"Mmh– You're gonna make me cum so hard..."

You smirk and keep moving faster. "Yeah?"

"Fuck, fuck–" Gaban's hips buck into yours and he pulls you down hard, burying his cock deep inside you as it starts throbbing wildly, spurting warm loads of cum inside you. His whole glistening body tenses and a single, long, broken sound leaves his lips as he rides his high.

You feast on the view as you keep riding him, relishing in the intense pulsations inside your core and the slick warmth spreading there and dripping down between your thighs.

He looks at you from behind half-lidded eyes as he slowly comes down from cloud nine, still half-hard inside of you while he resumes giving hip rolls of his own.

You angle your hips better, rubbing your swollen clit against his happy trail, reaching for another climax. "Oh, fuck... Ngh..."

"You're so fucking hot", Gaban breathlessly says, sliding a hand up to squeeze your waist then grope a breast, fingertips teasing your nipple.

You arch your back then, seeking more contact. "Oh, please, more..."

Gaban instantly complies, cupping both of your tits and thumbing at your nipples hardening under his touch.

"I– unf! I wanna cum so bad", you whimper, rubbing your swollen clit harder against him.

Gaban rolls your nipples between his fingertips, sending a jolt of arousal through your body, then leans in to suck on the closest tit.

You breathe more heavily and press your hips down harder, feeling more warmth pool in your gut, close, so close to an orgasm. "Oh, please, pleaseplease–"

Gaban sucks hard on your nipple, then gently bites it as his hand pulls on the other one.

The coil snaps and you throw your head back to let out a series of loud moans, your whole body curling and trembling as waves and waves of liquid ecstasy spreads throughout your whole body, your skin tingling in their wake.

Gaban keeps sucking and pulling on your tits as your inner walls squeeze him tight, humming in delight into your skin as he bucks his hips into yours to feel you cum better.

When finally you settle down a little you look back down at him, out of breath and positively sated. You offer him a lazy smile. "Oh, that was– haa– so good..."

"Oh yeah", he says as he leans back and grabs your waist again, rocking his hips into yours.

You moan as you feel his dick standing to full attention again inside you, deliciously stretching you. Your insides flutter around him. Not sated yet. "More?", you coyly ask.

"My pleasure." Gaban flips you both over and places his hands on either side of your head, slowly rocking his hips into yours as he hovers above you.

You bite your lower lip, feasting on the view, and you adjust your position under him, tilting your hips a little higher for a deeper penetration.

Gaban grins and starts thrusting, long and slow, making sure to rub his flared tip against your sweet spot with every thrust.

You cling onto his waist, fingertips digging into his back. "Harder", you moan.

He growls and picks up his pace a little, filling you with each thrust yet still not quite satisfying enough.

You impatiently whine. "Come on, I'm not gonna break", you say as you rake your fingernails into his skin.

He raises an eyebrow, and he slams his hips into yours, earning a low growl.

"Oh, fuck yeah. More..."

Gaban leans back to kneel in front of you, pulling your hips up so you rest your lower back on his muscular thighs. He raises your ankles to his shoulders and wraps his arms around your legs, holding you tight, then leans in a little before he resumes fucking you, hard and fast. The new angle has you feeling fuller, his dick impossibly deep and rubbing everywhere it should.

You feel something growing inside you, an urge for release that you don't quite recognize until you squirt around Gaban's thick cock, splashing his abs and thighs and soaking the mattress beneath you while he keeps pounding into you, reducing you to a moaning mess.

He angles his hips back a little and keeps going, making you squirt another couple of times before he cums another time inside you, his dick pulsating against your sweet spot as his release mixes with yours inside you and over the bedsheets.

And though you very much enjoy your current situation, nothing seems to satisfy you enough. The ache inside you only seems to grow bigger each time you climax, and you're convinced you're going to lose your mind if you can't at least appease it a little.

When Gaban regains his breath he leans back and pulls out, cautiously laying you down onto a dry part of the bed. He gently squeezes your thigh as he sits next to you. "How do you feel?"

You weakly shrug. "Want more", you whine.

He offers you an apologetic smile. "Me too, but I do have a refractory time."

You haul yourself up, rubbing your thighs together as your insides flutter around nothing. "And I have no patience", you huskily say as you wrap a hand around his softening cock. You give Gaban a quick glance before licking him clean, then you engulf him whole.

"Hnghh– (y/n)..."

You hum around his half-hard cock, sucking it hard and humming as it gets harder over your tongue, progressively filling your mouth until you struggle to swallow around him. The taste of both of your releases only further fuels your ever-growing arousal and you're aching to have him inside you again as you finally release him, rock hard again and ready to go. A proud smile curves your lips, and you look back up.

Gaban exhales a low, deep chuckle and wipes a few beads of sweat off his forehead. "Alright then. What do you want?"

You turn around and place yourself on your fours, face against the mattress as you wriggle your ass up. "You. Inside me."

"Can do", he huskily says, raising a hand to run his fingertips up your inner thigh, spreading the slick across your skin and teasing your throbbing cunt. Then he kneels behind you, playfully slaps your ass cheeks then massages them while he rubs his cock between your folds.

You arch your back, and moan when his flared tip rubs your swollen clit and they throb against each other. You fist your hands into the bedsheets and tilt your hips forward to guide him towards your aching core. "Fuck me already..."

Another slap on an ass cheek, loud and clear, tingling with warmth blooming everywhere inside you. It's all the warning you get before Gaban slides inside you and fucks you rough, fingertips digging into your hips hard enough to bruise.

"Oh– Oh, fuck, yes! Yes!!" Your eyes roll back in delight and your mouth stays agape, sinful sounds spilling from your lips as you're lost in a haze, abandoned to the moment, Gaban's whole strength and his throbbing cock ramming into you, spearing you open. So good, so good... yet still not enough. You grow frustrated after a while, and prop yourself up on your arms, trying to get a better angle.

Gaban slows down a little. "Something wrong?"

"Want more", you moan between pants.

Gaban growls, hauls you up and brings you against the wooden wall, waits for you to comfortably brace your arms there, then grabs your hips again and resumes pounding into you.

With this angle he perfectly rubs against your sweet spot with each thrust, and more warmth blooms into you as he wraps his body around yours, holding you close as he roughly rails you from behind.

You throw a hand back and card it into his thick hair, then you exhale a low throaty moan when he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, praising the gods you don't believe in for another powerful orgasm.

It doesn't come, and instead you're both startled by knocks on the cabin door.

You whine when Gaban stops thrusting and he unlatches his mouth from your skin.

"You okay there?"

You turn a hazy gaze to Gaban, distantly identifying Rayleigh's voice.

"I was wondering where you went, so I asked Crocus since he saw you last."

Not caring in the least that Rayleigh is on the other side of the wall, you lean a little against the wood, then roll your hips a little, anything to get some friction to ease the ache inside your core.

Gaban's grip tightens on your hips and his dick throbs inside you.

Rayleigh continues, "Don't worry about the others, he only told Roger and me. I just came here to bring you fresh water, Crocus said you might need it."

You try to get Gaban to move again, to no avail, then you exhale a needy whimper.

"Thanks, Rayleigh", Gaban says, "You can leave it by the door, I'll come grab it later."

"Oh no, you're not leaving", you lowly growl, clenching your inner walls around his pulsating cock.

He frowns and protests, "I'm just getting water!"

You lean against the wall and brace your shoulders against it, then you glare at him as you throw your hands back to grab his ass, pinning him against you. "I said no."

He lifts his eyebrows. "Okay. Now what?"

"I don't care! Just fuck me."

Gaban leans over your back and heavily sighs. "Rayleigh?"

"Yeah?"

"Come in and leave the water here, please", Gaban says before he resumes pounding into you.

Rayleigh opens the door, slides in then closes behind him. Then he drops a keg near the bed, and his gaze flickers to you.

Gaban growls, "You saw nothing."

"Nobody will know, but I saw. Nice view", he teases, a smile curving his lips.

Your brain vaguely registers that usually you'd be embarrassed, but right now being watched only arouses you more. "Really?", you breathe out between moans as you struggle to maintain eye contact.

"Mh-hmm", he nods, gaze lingering on your face before turning to Gaban. "You gonna be okay?"

"Fuck–" Gaban's hips still against yours as he cums inside you yet again. He pulls out and moves back to lay on the bed, heavily breathing. "Well that's a nice workout, but…... yeah."

You whimper at the loss, then you turn around to straddle him without a single fuck to spare for your audience until Rayleigh speaks again.

"Do you need any help?"

You snap your head towards him, then curiously back to Gaban, heart suddenly beating faster.

"I could use a pause", he breathes out, then finds your inquiring gaze. He licks his lips and exhales a small chuckle. "Won't be a first that we share a bed, or someone", he confesses. "Your pick."

Your eyes widen. "Oh." You bite your lower lip and turn to Rayleigh who's still standing in the doorway. Without missing a beat, you ask, "You don't mind sloppy seconds, do you?"

Rayleigh's grin widens as he walks towards you. "Depends... Right now, I don't."

"Lucky me", you huskily say as you hop off the bed and walk to him, wandering hands sliding his coat off his shoulders.

Rayleigh glances at Gaban. "Those fire peaches are really strong, I heard?"

Gaban huffs a tired chuckle. "Oh yeah! And she ate four or five of them..."

"I didn't know then, and I don't care now, please– help me", you say as you struggle to untie the First Mate's sash.

Rayleigh smirks. "Well, we don't want to leave you in need now, do we?" He slides his sash off and helps you remove his boots and pants, and comments as your hands explore his body, groping here and there, "I won't lie, it's flattering to see you so eager... Makes me wish I tried something earlier."

"I'll make up for lost time, then." You maintain his gaze as you slide his underwear down and sink to your knees. You break eye contact to glance at his cock, half-hard already, long and curved, veiny. You wrap your fingers around him and start stroking, licking your lips in anticipation.

You hear the smile in his voice as he next says, "Lost time, huh? Must have been long overdue, when I see Gaban worn out like this."

You exhale a soft hum, and open your mouth to engulf his tip.

"If you let her, (y/n) will suck you dry", Gaban says.

"I wouldn't mind", Rayleigh says as he cards a hand into your hair, guiding you as you lean in and take more of his length.

Gaban chuckles. "Maybe, but she will."

You hum in approval and start bobbing your head, making it wet and messy as you feel Rayleigh's cock throbbing against your tongue.

"Unf– You're good", Rayleigh huskily says between pants and moans, "Oh yeah, just like that..."

You moan around his length, heart melting at the praise and cunt dripping from arousal at the weight and taste on your tongue, already desperate to be fucked silly again.

Rayleigh places his other hand on your cheek, gently holding you close as you take him whole, nose brushing against his happy trail. He groans and his flared tip throbs at the back of your throat, and he pulls you back a few short moments after. He heavily pants, a dark shade of pink dusting his cheeks.

Not that you fare any better, drooling spit and precum, pupils dilated as you look up and meet his intense gaze. You dart your tongue out to lick his thumb and your insides clench around nothing when he slides it between your lips.

Gaban exhales a low chuckle. "Still feisty", he comments.

"(y/n)... I'd like to fuck that pretty mouth, is that okay?"

You heartily nod, lean back to open your mouth wide, then obediently draw your tongue out.

Rayleigh exhales a low hum and cradles your head between his warm hands, then he bucks his hips into your offered mouth, groaning when you move your tongue along his length. "Tap on my thigh or my leg if I'm too rough, alright?"

You hum, and focus on breathing through your nose while he starts thrusting in and out of your lips. Your insides flutter with each of his moans, and let out some sinful sounds of your own in return. When he starts moving faster, pressing against the back of your throat with every other thrust, you gag around his cock and place your hands on his thighs, but you withhold the treatment, finding some relief in being used and yearning for more.

Rayleigh pulls back just when the taste of precum gets stronger in your mouth, heavily panting and looking at you with a mix of awe and mischief. "Fuck– You're so good."

You lick your lips, chasing his taste. "Am I, now?" You get up and move back to the bed, laying on the mattress next to Gaban and invitingly opening your thighs, offering your glistening cunt to the view while you hungrily lick your lips. "Let me see if you are, too."

Rayleigh exchanges a mischievous glance with Gaban and climbs onto the bed, placing himself above you and lining himself up. He leans in for a deep, hungry kiss as he slides into your aching core, swallowing your whimpers while he sheathes himself, then he leans back up to look at your heated face, wearing a smug grin.

A split second passes before you lock your feet behind his back, expectantly looking up at him. "Fuck me", you demand.

"My pleasure", he says, and happily complies, imposing a fast rhythm as he deeply pounds into you.

Sparks of pleasure send shivers across your skin, heated and sensitive from such a good rough fuck. Your fingernails dig into pale skin and you tighten your thighs around Rayleigh's waist, angling your hips for an even deeper penetration. It's so good, yet still not enough.

Rayleigh leans back and lifts your ankles to his shoulders for a better angle, threads a hand through his sweat-damp hair as he adjusts his position.

You whine at the sight, and lick your suddenly dry lips.

Gaban pats Rayleigh's hip. "Let her drink a bit."

You're a little startled when you're reminded of Gaban's presence, you were so lost in the sensations that you forgot about him for a bit.

"Yeah. I'll have some too."

You prop yourself on your elbows when Gaban brings you a fresh cup, and you down the water in one go while he fetches another cup for Rayleigh.

Once the blond has resumed fucking you, Gaban lays next to you, fingertips tracing your jawline.

You turn to him moaning and panting under Rayleigh's ministrations.

He softly smiles, and playfully slides the tip of his thumb between your parted lips.

You absentmindedly lick it, then crane your head to properly suck it.

He growls and slides his thumb out, only to push two fingers inside your mouth, looking intensely at the way you open your mouth wide to accommodate them.

You diligently coat Gaban's fingers with spit, making a show to run your tongue all around.

"So greedy..."

You moan around his knuckles with every other thrust, gaze going from Gaban to Rayleigh, drowning in their desire but not nearly quenched yet.

Fortunately for you, Gaban seems to think along the same lines. He asks you, "Want to blow me off?"

You heartily nod around his fingers, humming appreciatively.

He smirks and turns to Rayleigh. "Mind changing positions?"

"Not at all", Rayleigh says before pulling out.

Your inner walls flutter around nothing, desperate to be filled again, and you're about to voice a complaint–

Rayleigh grabs your hips and flips you around in one swift move, then he pulls your ass up.

Catching his drift, you place yourself on your fours and tilt your hips for better access.

Gaban kneels in front of you, presenting a renewed and throbbing erection.

You lick your lips and get to work, engulfing as much as you can in a single go.

Rayleigh slides inside you right then, pushing you a little more around Gaban's cock as he bottoms out.

Your insides squeeze around Rayleigh's cock and you moan in return. When Rayleigh pulls back a little you start bobbing your head along Gaban's cock, relishing in the strong throbbing against your tongue when you moan around it as well as the stronger taste of precum spreading into your mouth.

Rayleigh places his hands on your ass, spreading it out as he resumes fucking you, a little slower than before.

Assuming he's enjoying the view, you arch your back a little more to give a better show.

Rayleigh exhales a low appreciative groan and fucks you harder, spreading your ass wide and throbbing hard inside your cunt.

You slightly gag with every other thrust that pushes you harder on Gaban's cock, but you withhold the treatment, doing your best to focus on breathing through your nose.

Rayleigh's thrusts become slightly erratic after a few minutes, and he buries himself balls deep after a few off-beat thrusts, keeping an iron grip on your hips as he cums inside you.

You groan in delight when you're filled with his release, and you sigh when he finally pulls out.

Gaban leans back and rubs the tip of his cock against your drawn out tongue. "Wanna fuck you again", he growls.

You look up and smirk. "Then I want both of you."

"Needy girl... You're lucky Rayleigh has little to no refractory time."

You throw an interested glance behind you. "Yeah?"

Rayleigh shrugs, and a mischievous smile curves his lips. "How fast can you get me up again?"

You lowly hum. "Let's see..." You stay on your fours but turn around to face him, offering your backside to Gaban. You grab his half-hard cock, slide your lips around it and start sucking, tasting your own earlier release and theirs under Rayleigh's approving gaze.

Gaban lines himself with your cunt once you've fallen into a comfortable rhythm, easily sliding into you with the remainder of his and Rayleigh's cum, and he snaps his hips hard into yours, loud slaps of flesh against flesh echoing through your body as he forces you further onto Rayleigh's cock.

You appreciate the way it swells and gets harder against your tongue in response to every other moan vibrating around it, and you earnestly suck harder in return. You distantly register when the thrusts inside you slow down a bit as well as a couple of foreign sounds occur behind you, but you don't care much until two fingertips are pressed into your ass cleft.

Gaban's fingers aren't pushing much, just sliding down to your puckered hole and spreading their coat of lube around it. "You said you want both of us. Is this good?"

Your eyes flutter shut and you lean back a little to release Rayleigh's cock. "Oh, yeah. Very", you pant, throwing a glance behind your back.

Gaban flashes you a smile and resumes pounding into your cunt with his former pace, all while massaging your tight hole. He slides a first, then a second finger inside, and leisurely starts scissoring you.

Rayleigh cups your cheek, prompting you to look back up at him. "You look so good like this", he praises you, "So pretty when you're enjoying yourself..."

Your inner walls flutter at the praise. An extra finger sliding into your ass forces a raw, throaty moan out of you, and you mindlessly resume your blow job, keeping it wet and messy.

Rayleigh places his hands on your head, gently guiding your moves along his length while exhaling soft moans.

Gaban soon pushes a third finger deep inside you, and wriggles them around a bit, feeling the tight fit of your ass around them.

You groan around Rayleigh's shaft, and arch your back for better access, an urge to be stretched further rising fast inside you.

Gaban reads you like an open book and pushes his fingers deeper, then spreads them as wide as he can.

You throw your head back with a wail, releasing Rayleigh's cock in the movement. Breathing shallowly, still drooling spit and precum, you glance behind you and beg, "Please, I want you both so bad."

Gaban stops moving and lifts a cocky eyebrow.

You look back up at Rayleigh. "Please."

He smiles, a little short of breath, then moves to lay down on the mattress. He palms at his slick cock and invitingly says, "Come here."

Gaban pulls his fingers out, earning a whimper. He barely has the time to buck his hips back that you're already moving.

You don't waste a single second and crawl over Rayleigh to straddle him. You impale yourself on his shaft, exhaling a low groan once he's fully sheathed in. You lick your lips, brace your hands on either side of Rayleigh's face, and start riding like it's world's end.

"Ooh, yeah– fuck, that's good..." Rayleigh's hands latch on your hips, guiding you and pressing you harder against him, sliding you along his length and making sure you take him to the hilt with every hip roll.

You stop moving when you feel Gaban kneeling behind you. Eager to be fucked senseless, you lean over Rayleigh's body and rest your head into the crook of his shoulder, panting in anticipation as you offer your ass to Gaban.

Rayleigh's hands slide from your hips to your ass cheeks and spread them wide for better access.

You pant more heavily and heat rises up to your face. You lean into the crook of Rayleigh's neck and gently bite in return, licking and nibbling his warm skin.

Gaban lines his cock, slick with bodily fluids and an extra dose of lube. The first ring of muscle twitches around his tip when he pushes in, but the downright sinful moan you next exhale encourages him further, so he keeps going, slowly but deliciously filling your tight ass. Once he bottoms out he leans over your back and peppers your shoulders and back with wet kisses. "You're doing so good. You feel so good", he murmurs against your skin.

Mind foggy, body just barely adjusted to the spearing intrusion, breath still heavy, you lick your dry lips and give an experimental hip roll. "Oh, holy shit..." Your insides clench around both men and your whole body tenses between them, electrified by the intense sensations. You lazily smile when Gaban and Rayleigh hiss in return, then their cocks throb inside you and your whole body goes a little limp. You catch your breath before exhaling a husky moan, eyes rolling back behind your eyelids.

Rayleigh's hands travel up to your hips, and one trails up your side, then your neck, follows your jawline and gently cups your cheek.

You open your eyes.

Rayleigh hungrily looks up at you and growls, "So pretty when you take us both..."

Breath short, feeling fuller than ever yet not near enough, you brace tight fists on the mattress above Rayleigh's shoulders, then you push your back against Gaban's chest, and roll your hips again with more intent. "Ooh, fuck... Unf, this is so good..." You look back down at Rayleigh and offer him a lazy smile. "I wanna cum with both of you inside me." You grin wider when both of their cocks instantly get harder, and move again, quickly setting a comfortable rhythm.

Rayleigh's hands cup your chest and playfully rub fingertips across your nipples, teasing until he earns a couple of extra moans. Then he pinches them and gently holds them so that he pulls on your tits with each of your hip rolls.

"Holy fuck, yes–"

Gaban leans a little over you, wrapping his broader frame around your smaller form, and re-positions a hand on the mattress so the other can wander freely, exploring your legs, thighs, sides.

You're burning from the inside, every touch so good and so frustrating at the same time, your whole body demands more. You tilt your hips and ride harder, bite your lower lip when you find a better angle, then you ride faster.

Gaban's hand kneads into your hip, then travels to your inner thigh, fingertips brushing against Rayleigh's midsection. Your hips stutter under his touch but he keeps going, and three fingertips soon cover your swollen clit and start stroking through its hood.

You lean down a little under the intense stimulation, and you let your mouth fall agape as more sinful sounds spill from your lips.

Rayleigh leans up to suck on a hardened nipple, earning higher-pitched moans. He smiles around your tit and leans back only to apply the same treatment to the other side.

"Oh, fuck– I can't–" You heavily pant and your hips stutter again between them as you're unable to maintain any kind of pace. You stop riding altogether and whine, "Please, please, fuck me..."

Rayleigh releases your nipple with a wet sound, then leans back wearing a cocky smirk. "If you insist."

Gaban's hand leaves your cunt and moves to the mattress again. He kisses the back of your neck and huskily says, "I'm always happy to please."

Rayleigh spreads out your ass and holds you tight as he starts thrusting into your sloppy cunt.

"Oh shit, shit–" You writhe between them, searching for more contact.

Gaban gives some hip rolls of his own and leans in to bite your neck.

"Ngh– more, please..."

Gaban pushes his chest down on your back and slides three fingers inside your mouth.

Slaps of flesh against flesh, ragged breaths, loud moans and husky groans... Heat everywhere inside and around you... Sweat and spit mixing in your mouth with the taste of everyone's juices... The scent of your bodies mingled together... And the view, oh, the view...

Rayleigh's absolutely gorgeous, disheveled and glimmering from the sweat running down his body, brow furrowed and muscles tense as he buries himself deep inside you, mouth spilling moans and curses and quiet words of praise.

Gaban bites you again, a little harder.

A jolt of electricity goes down your spine, and you cum right there and then with a loud wail. Your whole body shudders at the intensity of this new climax, and finally slumps down after a while. You're positively out of breath and exhausted, not to mention dehydrated beyond belief. You lick your dry lips.

Rayleigh gently pats Gaban's thigh. "Let her drink", he softly says.

Gaban pulls out, earning a soft whine, then he lays down on the bed next to Rayleigh, breathing heavily.

You slide off Rayleigh and fill a couple of cups for them, then you down another one. Once you're feeling a little fresher, you take a couple of breaths to assess your current state. Still not fucking close to satisfied. You don't waste time and quickly return to Gaban and Rayleigh, rubbing your body against theirs as you barely stand a few moments without bare skin against yours.

"Time out", Gaban quietly says, a soft smile curling his lips while he gently taps your thigh.

You slightly groan in mild annoyance, and turn your attention to Rayleigh.

He lays you down and gets off the bed, then he pulls you towards the edge of the mattress. He kneels there and throws you a seductive glance before diving in tongue first.

You arch your back when his tongue laps your juices, and your eyes flutter shut when the wet muscle explores inside your slightly gaping cunt. One of your hands tangles in blond hair and lightly tugs, earning a soft groan. You exhale an interested hum, and tug harder.

Rayleigh groans louder and slides his tongue up, moving to suck your swollen, sensitive clit.

An incoherent string of half-words fall from your lips, and you bury your free hand into his hair too, keeping him where it feels better. You rock your hips a little and when Rayleigh stops moving and simply draws his tongue out, you insistently rub yourself against the wet muscle, chasing for another high.

Rayleigh exhales soft grunts and moans of approval, vibrating against your throbbing clit, and he all too happily let him use his tongue.

It doesn't take long before your thighs quiver around his head as you cum yet again. You release his head and lazily watch as he wipes your juices from his face and sucks his fingers clean.

He stands then, stretches his back a little, and lines himself up with your dripping cunt. He doesn't give you time to recover from the afterglow and slides his dick deep inside your pulsating core, and fucks you hard.

Over-sensitized and exhausted, you're still craving for more and you're glad he wants more too.

Gaban scoots closer to you and lets his hands wander on your chest, your neck, your jawline. "You're so fucking pretty", he praises you while his fingertips tease you.

You hear Captain Roger's roaring laugh echoing on the decks, but it doesn't register as bothersome since you suppose there's only the four of you on the ship.

Neither Rayleigh nor Gaban stop their ministrations, anyway.

A moment after, Captain's voice says from behind the door, "I was wondering where Rayleigh had been all this time. Figures."

Gaban rolls his eyes.

Rayleigh groans as he slows down his thrusts.

"Everyone's off to sleep and you're still at it?"

Rayleigh turns towards the door and deadpans, "Well someone doesn't want to stop, so..."

You groan in mild annoyance and wriggle your hips to try to get him to move.

He turns his attention back to you, sighing. "Do you want Roger to join, too?"

Your pupils widen at the offer and you lick your lips.

Gaban bites your shoulder. "Insatiable, really", he growls against your skin.

With a rare sliver of lucidity you ask, "Is this... okay?"

Gaban and Rayleigh huff a laugh and exchange a knowing look, a smirk growing on their faces.

You frown. "What?"

Rayleigh calls, "Roger!"

Your Captain enters the cabin without further ado, grinning wide at the sight of you three entangled. "Oh, you've been having fun."

Rayleigh retorts, "Yeah, and (y/n) keeps wanting more."

Captain Roger turns his attention to you.

Arousal flares again inside your gut under his intense gaze.

He plucks his mustache and lowly asks, "Is it true? Do you need more... help?"

You swallow as you briefly look at the other two. "Yeah. I mean– I'm not sure anything more would truly help at this point, but–"

Rayleigh laughs. "Oh, he will wear you out, trust me."

Gaban runs a thumb across your lower lip. "If anyone can do more than us two, it's Roger. I'd say it's a pretty safe bet."

"Alright, okay." You playfully lick his thumb before turning your attention back to your Captain, a smile curling your lips. Worries and shame long forgotten, you offer, "You want the next round?"

"Oh yeah." Roger heartily nods, then he drops his coat near the keg and leisurely leans on the wall across the room. "Come on, boys, you heard her", he urges the other two with an eager grin.

Rayleigh briefly glares at him, but soon resumes fucking you, deep and sharp, making you see stars with every other thrust.

Gaban muffles your moans with two or three fingers playing with your tongue, while his gaze intensely studies your face.

You tilt your hips for a deeper penetration and moan a little louder around Gaban's fingers, then your eyes flutter shut in delight and you squeeze your inner walls around Rayleigh.

He hisses in return, and his cock heavily throbs. "Fuck– I'm close..."

You huskily groan, lean back to release Gaban's fingers, then tilt your head towards Rayleigh. "Cum inside me", you plead.

"Oh– fuck, nghh..." Rayleigh's body tenses and he buries himself to the hilt, violently pulsating and filling your greedy cunt with yet another load of warm cum.

You bite your lower lip, clenching harder around him, milking him dry.

After a few heavy breaths to regain his composure, Rayleigh finally pulls out. He gazes at you with want and a hint of softness when he cups your chin and leans in for a deep languid kiss.

You're breathless but smiling by the time he finally leans back.

Rayleigh settles further on the bed, next to Gaban who's been observing you with a mischievous grin.

Happy where you are but still not quite sated, you move to the edge of the bed and sit there, ignoring the warm wetness spreading between your thighs. Your gaze instantly falls on your Captain.

Roger looks at you with intent, a hungry smile curving his mouth.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you distantly acknowledge that the man facing you is one of the most wanted, ill-famed, strong and dangerous men of this era. Although, you're a part of his crew, so it's a very arousing thought, rather than threatening.

"My turn", he says, and then he gets up without further ado, shrugging off his shirt.

Your mouth falls agape halfway through said shirt being dropped on the floor, and you observe him with want as he similarly discards boots, belts and pants. Goosebumps raise your skin despite the fire burning beneath. Nothing that you didn't know beforehand, but your Captain in any state of undress is still a sight to behold. What a snack!

A pair of laughs echo from the bed.

You blink then frown. "Did I say that out loud?"

Left in nothing more than his underwear, Roger heartily nods, beaming.

"Oh, well", you shrug, distantly aware that you should be embarrassed but remaining unbothered, "It's true." You get up and go straight to your Captain, holding a hand out once you're within reach to palm at his strong, hairy torso. You look up with a renewed fire within you.

Roger leans in for a deep kiss, and approvingly hums when you let him claim your mouth and run eager hands across your sweaty skin. He runs his tongue across your lower lip as he leans back, leaving you breathless and needy.

"Captain..."

Roger cracks a smile, places his hands around your waist and effortlessly lifts you up, laughing when you gasp in surprise. You barely have the time to wrap your legs around Roger that he's already sat on the bed with you straddling him.

You look at him from under, slightly flustered to be handled like this but even more aroused now that you feel his cock throbbing between your thighs, albeit through very frustrating underwear. You're soaking those, anyway, already rubbing your dripping cunt against him.

"So eager..." Roger's large hands slide around your hips to cup your ass, giving them a playful squeeze before venturing further, spreading the slick around your holes, teasing but never quite satisfying.

You pant and whine, and your head lolls back down while you angle your hips better, seeking more contact, more pressure, anything to quell the fire in your core.

"So, so needy", Roger growls just before his wandering fingertips return to your hips. You look back at him frustrated, outraged even, but he only smiles and hoists you up again, setting you a little to the side, straddling his thick thigh.

You throw him a confused look.

His smile widens and he lifts his knee a little, flexing his thigh underneath you and pressing into your wet folds. "Make yourself cum for me."

Your eyes roll back and you exhale a low throaty moan. Your thighs clench around his on reflex and your swollen clit throbs against his skin, his curly, thick hairs tickling you in the most satisfying way possible. You have a breathless laugh, then you quietly say, "Okay." You brace yourself on your Captain's stomach, and start riding his thigh.

Roger keeps a hand on your hip, guiding your movements, pressing you harder against him, and he lets the other wander free, reaching out for your neck, gently curling around it. Then he traces your jawline and thumbs at your lower lip.

You obediently open your mouth, drawing your tongue out.

Roger growls, and his grip tightens on your hip while he slides two thick fingers between your parted lips, rubbing against your tongue.

You whimper but diligently start sucking, coating his fingers with saliva while you roll your hips harder. Your clit impossibly throbs against Roger's warm skin, the brush of hairs sending sparks of pleasure across your over-sensitized skin, and the pressure of hard muscle against your whole cunt becoming painfully addictive. You move faster when another climax builds up, desperate for the high and mindlessly drooling around Roger's fingers.

"Close already?", Roger playfully asks. He pushes his fingers deeper into your mouth and slides his other hand from your hip to your ass, spreading you out.

You exhale a low moan and hump him harder.

Roger spreads the slick around your puckered hole, earning another few whimpers and a pleading glance, then slides his finger in to the knuckle. "Come on, cum for me."

Your eyes roll back and you lean back with a loud moan, releasing his fingers when you tip over the edge. Your whole body tenses over his, your inner wall clenching in waves as you ride the high.

Roger makes sure to keep a constant pressure between your thighs, extending your climax until you're a shivering, panting mess, falling limp against his chest. He gently pats your back, murmuring, "There, there. You did good."

You blearily blink while you regain your breath, then you look up and offer your Captain a lazy smile. "Thanks, Captain."

Rayleigh has an exaggerated sigh. "Well, you look more tired now, so hopefully the effect of those fire peaches are starting to wear out." When your eyes find his, he cocks an eyebrow and stares at you with a fondly exasperated smile.

You lick your dry lips, swallow around a too dry throat, then cough a little.

Gaban quickly fetches a cup of water for you. "Come, sit."

Roger helps you off him and back down on the bed.

Rayleigh gently pats your shoulder while you sit between him and your Captain.

You chug your water in one go, then stretch your arms and legs a little and ask for another cup. With your mind a bit clearer, you turn your attention back to Captain Roger. Your eyes study his underwear, more precisely the conspicuous wet spot you left there, and you realize how small it seems in comparison to the obvious bulge beneath.

Rayleigh slides you a knowing look when you glance his way.

You half-heartedly glare, then you turn to Gaban.

He laughs brightly. "What? We've all been there."

You blink. "Huh. That explains a lot..." You bite your lower lip and focus back on your Captain. Well... On the obvious bulge in his underwear, that is. Your eyebrow twitches at the sight and you waste no time in undressing him. Of course, he's huge. Not deterred in the least, you kneel beside him on the bed, tentatively wrap a hand around his cock and start stroking.

He encourages you, with a hand across your back that gently presses fingertips into your skin when he moans or groans.

Emboldened by the new range of sounds you manage to coax from your Captain, and firmly intending to hear some more, you lean in and blow him off. You shamelessly moan while you play with your tongue around his shaft, mentally picturing what it'll be like to have such a massive cock inside you.

Roger is as loud in bed as he is everywhere else, and for some reason it makes him even hotter. You soon learn with delight that he's very vocal, verbal even, praising you for making him feel good, guiding you with short instructions and encouraging you further. His hand slides up your back and wraps around your nape, not quite pushing but still gently keeping you down on him.

You groan around his shaft when a couple of fingertips press into your scalp, and you earnestly keep blowing him off. You gag a little when you try to take his cock to the hilt, but you wrap a hand around the base to reach what doesn't fit and you suck harder on the upstroke, hollowing your cheeks and drooling spit and precum. You let out a surprised moan when a hand spreads your juices – not only yours, but that's a detail – and presses teasing fingertips around your sloppy cunt. You keep blowing your Captain off but you lift your gaze.

Rayleigh makes eye contact with you, smirking before he dives in to kiss Roger.

You clench around Gaban's fingers when Roger's free hand possessively cards at Rayleigh's nape, the fire rekindled within you at the sight of their shared intimacy. I need more. I need them so bad. You pull up with a wet sound and a trail of drool still connecting your lips so Roger's flared tip, heavily panting while you observe desire and affection in their gaze when they break apart.

Gaban's fingers bring you back to your current situation when he curls them against your sweet spot, sending a jolt of electricity through your core. He leans over your back and brings his lips under your ear to playfully say, "Insatiable and voyeur."

Your inner walls squeeze his fingers again and you bite your lower lip. "Maybe", you concede at length.

"Hm? Feeling shy now?" Rayleigh gets up and fetches another cup of water for you. "The fire peaches are starting to wear out."

You sigh when Gaban's fingers leave you empty and fluttering around nothing, and you glare behind you.

Gaban pulls himself up the bed, leaning onto a pillow placed against the cabin wall. He opens his legs and pats the space between them, a playful smile at his lips.

"Oh." You crawl over to him, and sit between his thighs, resting your back against his chest. Just being caged by his body has your cunt throbbing in want, and the way his hands wander free across your heated skin makes you feel even more desired, even more needy, almost desperate.

Gaban's hands spread your thighs when they reach there, showing off your soaked, twitching, puffy cunt.

Roger lets out a low interested hum, then he turns around and lays stomach down on the bed with his head between your thighs. Without an ounce of hesitation or shame he dives in to eat you out, eagerly dipping his tongue between your folds and sucking your swollen clit.

Your fingers tangle in his thick hair and lightly tug. "Oh fuck, fuck– Oh shit– Why are you all so good at this– ngh..." You try to wriggle around but with little to no result, Gaban and Roger perfectly pinning you between them, offered and basically at their mercy.

Roger's tongue tastes you in the most intimate way possible – not only you, and that's a detail but it's a very arousing one – and the rumble of his appreciative groans vibrates against your core, making you weak in the knees.

Your inner walls flutter around his tongue. "More... More..."

Gaban molds his body against yours and playfully tugs on your nipples, earning a few whimpers when his warm breath tickles your shoulder and neck.

Your eyelids flutter shut while you bask in the sensations, delighted to be taken in such good care by the hottest men in the crew. You gasp and open your eyes again when a wider girth than before stretches your cunt.

Roger throws you a cocky smirk before diving back in to suck your clit. He starts thrusting his fingers shortly after, eyes trained on your face.

"Ooh, fuck–" Your eyes roll back in their sockets. That's three of his fingers. Three. Fingers. Considering how big your Captain is, you reason with yourself that said fingers should make it easier for you to take his cock. You glance back down and bite your lower lip. "Oh, Captain", you moan, "This is so good..."

He smiles against your folds and slides another finger in.

You whine at the extra stretch and break eye contact when he curls his fingers inside you.

One of Gaban's hands leave your nipple only to be replaced by an eager mouth.

You look down and find Rayleigh sat by Gaban's side, cupping a tit and earnestly sucking on it, hunger obvious in his eyes when you meet his gaze.

Roger keeps his fingers curled inside you and starts rocking them against your sweet spot, slowly but firmly.

"Ooh, fuck– oh–" Your body tenses under their combined ministrations, waiting for the moment the coil will snap.

Rayleigh sucks harder, rubbing the tip of his tongue against your hard nipple.

Gaban pinches the other one and lightly pulls, bouncing your tit.

Roger rubs his fingers more insistently, bringing you closer to the edge.

Your cunt clenches around him, he growls against your folds and around your clit in response, and finally you cum and squirt around his fingers.

Roger avidly drinks your juices, pressing his fingertips against your sweet spot to coax more out of you, and he keeps eating you out until you're a trembling, whimpering mess. He finally sits back up, a cocky smile on his swollen, glistening lips.

Your head falls back into the curve of Gaban's shoulder, and you take a moment to regain your breath.

Gaban's hands provide soft touches and eager squeezes, never urging but always arousing.

Rayleigh's mouth leave a trail of wet kisses from your chest to your neck, and playfully nibbles your earlobe before he retrieves the lube and hands it to Roger, who eagerly grabs it. He glances at you and waits for your approving nod before releasing the bottle.

Roger coats his cock with a healthy dose of lube, then he kneels between your parted legs, lines himself up and slowly slides into you.

Heavy sighs leave you with each inch that slides in. It's electrifying, after a whole night of already very good sex, to feel new sensations, and the extra stretch of a bigger cock is quite enjoyable too.

Once he's in to the hilt he exhales a satisfied hum, wraps his large hands around your thighs and starts pounding, earning a few lewd sounds.

Gaban's hands return to your chest, playful as ever, massaging and teasing.

Rayleigh's hand cups your chin, rubs the pad of a thumb across your lower lip, prompting you to glance at him. A mischievous smile plays at the corners of his lips, and he slides two fingers between your lips, rubbing them against your tongue.

You moan around his fingers and suck them, coating them with saliva and twisting your tongue around them.

Rayleigh soon slides a third finger into your mouth, and you can't help the way your cunt clenches around Roger's cock in response.

Your Captain stops moving. "You're close?"

You whine around Rayleigh's fingers and roll your hips against Roger's, rubbing your clit against his happy trail.

Roger snaps his hips into yours and smirks as you whine. "Hold it", he says as he presses his happy trail against your swollen, throbbing clit.

You release Rayleigh's fingers with a wet sound and try to still under them. You're too close, so you whine, "I can't..."

"Hold it", Roger demands with a hungry smirk and an extra burst of Conqueror's Haki.

Your body seems heavy, unable to move for a moment where everything and even time itself seems to stand still. Then the moment is gone, you can move normally again, and while you try to even your breathing you realize with a twinge of despair that your climax is long gone. You whimper under your Captain. "That's mean..."

"Not if we want to wear you out", Roger smiles. He pulls out, earning an undignified whine at the loss, then he lays on the bed and invitingly pats his hip. "Come ride me."

"Oh, yeah." You promptly get out of Gaban's embrace and crawl to your Captain, straddling him and rubbing your wet folds against his hard cock.

The difference in size between you two is even more tangible seen from here, with Roger's powerful hips obviously larger than yours spread above his, and his hand covering yours where it lays across his stomach.

You adjust your position and guide his cock between your folds, then you slowly sink down, taking the time to appreciate the stretch of his girth deliciously filling you. You rock your hips back once your hips meet his, and exhale a low satisfied groan when you take him to the hilt.

"Greedy", Roger playfully comments.

"Sue me", you jab back, and start riding him like your life depends on it, not caring in the least how loud you moan as long as you reach out the climax that you were denied just now.

Rayleigh sits by your side and reaches out with a thumb to part your lips wider.

You absentmindedly lick, then your gaze drifts to his renewed erection. When you glance back up his gaze turned a shade darker, a shade hungrier. You smile against his thumb, and draw your tongue out as far as you can.

Rayleigh kneels beside you, stroking his cock. When you draw your tongue out he rubs the tip of his cock against it.

You adjust your position so you can bounce your hips over Roger's more easily, and you happily blow Rayleigh off again.

"So eager", Roger comments from under you, hands tightening around your hips.

Gaban appreciatively growls, drawing a side-glance from you. He's sprawled on the mattress and leisurely palming at his cock while he surveys the scene.

Rayleigh gently teases, "A bit of an exhibitionist, too?"

You moan around his cock in response.

"Let's give a good show, then", he says, pulling his cock out from your lips before kneeling behind your back.

Gaban has the courtesy of bringing you some water – you hadn't noticed how dry your lips and throat were but it's a literal lifesaver – before resuming his intense observation of you getting wrecked by the Captain and his First Mate.

Rayleigh coats his cock with some extra lube and lines it with your twitching ass. He slowly pushes in, waiting for you to adjust at the first sign of discomfort.

Roger stops moving and attentively looks at your face. He raises a hand to cup your cheek when you close your eyes and frown, and he softly asks, "You good?"

You heavily breathe, and you nod the affirmative. You lean into his touch, idly kiss his palm then open your eyes. Rayleigh still waits so you rock your hips back for him to keep going, and you hold your Captain's gaze when you next say, "Not quite enough yet."

Roger's gaze turns hungry, flickers towards Rayleigh for a moment then back to you, softness and eagerness both obvious in his eyes. The hand cupping your cheek curls close to your nape and pulls you in for a deep demanding kiss that leaves you breathless.

Rayleigh uses the distraction to slide further in, earning a few moans that get louder once you break the kiss for air.

"H– Holy fuuuck–" You groan and bite your lower lip when Rayleigh is sheathed into your ass, throbbing while you adjust. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wonder if there's a chance you'll ever get fucked like this again. You ignore the nagging voice further back in a corner that says you can't possibly get that lucky twice.

"Fuck– You're so tight–" Rayleigh is slightly leaning over your back, heavily breathing and throbbing inside you.

You experimentally rock your hips, whining and moaning when you feel the way both cocks deliciously rub all the nice spots inside you. You take a couple of deep breaths, then you start rocking your hips like there's no tomorrow, impaling your greedy holes onto Roger and Rayleigh's cocks, feeling the stretch of your inner walls and the way they flutter around their throbbing shafts, getting close, so close...

"Don't cum just yet", Roger says as he makes eye contact with you, claiming your submission with another precise burst of Conqueror's Haki.

You freeze on the spot, light-headed but unable to do anything but obey. Your body wants, needs, demands release, tingling so hard it hurts, and with a tight coil of raw pleasure ready to snap curling deep in your gut– You can't. You heavily pant, whine, then sob. "Captain Roger..."

Roger lifts a hand to wipe a stray tear away. "Hey, hey. Look at me."

You turn blurry eyes to him.

"Does it hurt?"

You weakly nod the affirmative.

"Badly?"

You shrug and sniffle.

"I think you can hold it once more and then I'll let you cum. How does that sound?"

You whine.

"Come on, use your words."

"I'm tired..."

"My point exactly: the harder you cum, the sooner you're done with this and you can get some proper rest."

You sigh, then you weakly smile. "Okay."

Rayleigh leans over your back, breath fanning hot over your neck and shoulder when he nuzzles his nose under your ear. He huskily says, "Why don't you let us fuck you, then?"

"Yes, please", you quietly say, throwing a glance towards Gaban.

He offers you a playful smile. "Can't get enough, huh?"

You half-heartedly pout.

Rayleigh starts thrusting, slow and deep, and he's shortly followed by Roger.

You lose your composure but you manage to hold Gaban's gaze.

He swallows. "Alright..." He gets up and places himself next to you so you can blow him off.

You eagerly engulf him, and you moan of delight once you've got all of them inside you. Who knew being full of dick was so fucking satisfying? Your inner walls tighten around Roger and Rayleigh's cocks, the latter moving faster inside you, throbbing harder.

After a while the First Mate's thrusts become erratic, and the feeling of a new release inside you almost sends you off the edge–

You release Gaban's cock, heavily panting, almost there, almost–

Almost but Roger, ever so attentive, nearly chokes you with a thick burst of Conqueror's Haki, lowly ordering you, "Hold it."

You're panting and sobbing and trembling and your inner walls clench like crazy, but your climax recedes again while you're still milking Rayleigh's dick dry. You exhale a desperate whine when he pulls out, leaving you twitching and empty and dripping cum onto Roger's cock.

Gaban cups your chin, tilts it up for a deep kiss, then murmurs against your lips, "Can I?"

"Uh-huh." You nod the affirmative, too exhausted to manage more than non-verbal consent but just about desperate to cum.

Gaban kneels behind you to claim your ass, and soon enough him and Roger are fucking you silly.

Thoughts empty, body full of intense sensations, you're craving more but don't have enough force left to beg at this point. You just go with the flow, occasionally meeting Rayleigh's satisfied gaze while the other two men tag-team you.

Roger snap his hips into yours and relentlessly rubs his thick cock against your sweet spot, biting his lower lip while he pounds into you with all his might.

Gaban's hands are probably leaving fingertip-shaped bruises on your hips, and he impales your ass on his thick cock, heavily grunting and throbbing, growing harder inside you–

"Oh– ooh– fuck–" The extra throbbing, the sight beneath you, the smell and sounds in the room and– You're getting close, and you're getting close fast. "Oh– Oh fuuuck–"

Roger's intense gaze locks with yours. He dangerously smiles, and thrusts faster and deeper into you, his cock getting thicker and throbbing faster inside you.

You whine in alarm when Gaban stills behind you, snapping his hips one final time before unloading inside your ass.

"That's it", Roger lowly says. With a short wave of Conqueror's Haki he adds, "Cum hard for us."

You wail and your vision goes white. Intense, burning-hot pleasure explodes from within you, your greedy holes squeezing and milking Roger's and Gaban's cock dry, and you ride the high for what seems like an eternity, muscles tense and voice hoarse, out of breath and exhilaratingly electrified. The down hits even harder: you're a whimpering, trembling mess by the time you come back to the mortal plane and you're already laid down on the mattress after everyone pulled out. Your body goes limp and you pass out shortly afterwards.

Roger knocks at the door to Gaban's cabin then comes in, smiling at the endearing sight of you curled against Gaban on his bed. "Still asleep, huh?"

"Yeah."

Roger walks to the bed and gently brushes his fingers against your cheekbone, light as a feather.

You exhale a soft sigh in your sleep, and slightly lean into his touch.

Roger deeply hums, and his smile grows. He looks at Gaban next. "Crocus said she should be out of the woods in a few hours, that it'll take some more time to fully get the aphrodisiac out of her system."

Gaban nods. "Okay, either way I'm not surprised she's exhausted", he smiles.

"We did wear her out, huh?"

Gaban huffs a laugh. "More like fucked her brains out."

Roger widely smiles. He pats Gaban's shoulder and leans in to kiss his forehead. "Call Rayleigh or me if you need anything", he says before leaving.

"Sure." Gaban curls an arm around you, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips, and murmurs, "I'm all set, though."

The sun is high up in the sky when you blearily blink awake, bright light filtering through the curtains but still somewhat blinding. You groan and turn to face the other side, meeting a warm body halfway. You blink and look up, find Gaban smiling at you. You sharply inhale as you remember why – and with who else – you spent the night in his cabin. Heat instantly rises to your face, and you're positive you've become beet red in the short moment that goes by before you duck your head in shame.

Gaban softly asks, "How do you feel?"

After a quiet moment, heart racing, you murmur, "Embarrassed."

"There's no reason to. But I meant... do you still feel the effects of the fire peaches?"

"Oh, um..." You blink and take a deep breath, then observe the sensations in your body. No acute distress despite the slight tightness in your chest, no fire inside your gut, no insatiable arousal. No foggy mind either... You move a little. "Ow, ow–" You exhale a weak chuckle. "I'm sore, but I'm... fine, thanks."

He huffs a laugh. "Predictable."

"Yeah..." You look up again. "Did you stay here, with me, all this time?"

"Yeah, I wanted to make sure you were good when you'd wake up. Roger asked me to anyway, and he made sure nobody would come here and disturb you."

You softly smile. "That's nice..."

"Don't mention it. Do you need help to stretch? Or if you're too tired, I can give you a massage."

Your cheeks heat up, and you have half a mind to think you'd be taking advantage of his kindness if you accepted, but he insists.

"I know we've been rough, so I'll be happy to relieve you a bit."

You shyly nod the affirmative.

"Lay down, then."

When you turn around you notice that you're still butt naked, though mostly clean, with no traces of your nightly activities left visible across your skin. "Did you wash me?"

Gaban's hands starts massaging, gently working their way down your nape and shoulders. "We didn't want to risk waking you up by taking you to the bathroom, so Rayleigh brought towels so we could clean the mess we'd made of you."

Your ears are burning, and you keep the rest of your questions to yourself.

Gaban's hands work wonders, relaxing knots and tensions everywhere they go, lulling you into a nice relaxed state, fully focused on his gentle hands, his warmth, the way every tension leaves you.

You start yawning when he's about midway, and apologize with an awkward smile.

"Hey, it's okay. It's supposed to make you feel more relaxed. If yawning helps, it's all good."

You yawn another few times until he's done, and your body feels lighter than ever, pampered and handled like this. "Thanks." Your gaze drifts to the side and at length, you add, "For everything. I mean it."

Gaban lays back beside you and pulls the cover over your shoulders. He traces your cheekbone with his thumb. "Hey, I wanted to help, I did. It's alright, you're fine and that's all that matters."

Heart growing a little bigger, you close your eyes and lean into his touch. "Thank you."

"And everyone very much enjoyed the whole night so don't be ashamed of anything, okay?"

You purse your lips, huff a groan.

Gaban leans in and kisses you, soft and tender.

Heat rises up to your face before he leans back.

"I said I'd do it without those fire peaches, and I meant it. Rayleigh and Roger felt the same. Stop freaking out."

You bite your lower lip. "Yeah?"

He exhales a sigh, halfway between exasperation and fondness. "Really."

"Okay", you say, and then you snuggle a little closer, selfishly enjoying the comfort of his embrace.

He smiles a little. "Now, it doesn't have to be a one-time thing if you don't want it to be. Alright?"

You fail to suppress a pleased smile and nod, immensely flustered but equally grateful. "Do you mind if I stay here a little longer?"

Gaban smiles wider. "Wouldn't want it any other way", he softly says as he wraps his arm around you and pulls you flush against him.

#one piece #op fic #nae's writing #one piece x reader #x reader #thirst material #gaban x reader #rayleigh x reader #roger x reader #gaban x rayleigh x reader #rayleigh x roger x reader #gaban x roger x reader #gaban x rayleigh x roger x reader

40 notes · View notes

ibrithir-was-here · 8 months

Text

Old short story I wrote a couple of years ago and then forgot about. Remembered it the other day, gave it a bit of a brush up, and figured I'd share it. My own take on the old "Dark Snow White" retelling

Sunlight and Snowdrops

Father is sending us away tomorrow, sent for schooling at a monastery far off in the south. His new wife--The Usurper, who I will not grace with the title of queen-- tells us of the walled gardens, where pomegranates and figs grow almost year round on trees with leaves as large and tall as a man, a place where the sea still rushes up freely to meet the shore, long stretches of golden sand, forever warm to the touch.

She has talked of little else for months now, as if she and Father hope that such constant chatter will somehow soften us to the idea of our exile, make us forget the kingdom she has stolen from us, just as she has stolen his heart. And perhaps with my sisters she has somewhat succeeded . They always did take after Father, with their butter-yellow hair, and skin flushed like ripe peaches. Perhaps they were always more suited for such places. But I am my mother’s daughter, as any who look upon me can tell, and I will not be made to forget.

For how could such a flat, lurid place ever hope to compare with the beauty of my mother’s kingdom? What is a stretch of damping sea-shore to the beauty of a deep lake, forever crystallized into the finest mirror? What are walled gardens with their mad jumble of gaudy fruits to the dark towering pines, whispering to each other as the wind moves through them? What monastery could ever hope to reach heaven in the way that the mountains of the valley swell up in dark waves, to crack the egg-shell gray of the sky?

It is the blue sky of that far off place I fear most of all. What want have I for a sky of unchanging blue, suffocating in it’s immensity, with its one great burning eye beating down to peel and crack my skin in the day, and it’s thousand eyes to stare down at night? My mother’s pale sky has never once burned me, never once stared into my dreams, not with her veils of snow to protect me. Her sky is forever changing, shifting from stillness to storm on her whim. Blasting and breaking, soothing and softening, blanketing all with her beautiful covering of pure, protective white.

But my father’s new queen has poisoned its beauty for him, turning his head with her talk of salted water and coarse sand. If she wishes to retreat to such places, then I say let us be well rid of her. If my father and sisters are fools enough to follow her, to believe the lies she and her counselors and sages have spread about my mother, the rightful queen, then let them be off as well. I know the truth, I have not forgotten, I of all her daughters, have remained faithful.

There are so few of us now. So many have turned away from their true queen. But though loyalty is fragile, memory remains as firm as the ice upon the Great Lake. Despite their seeming love for the Usurper, The common people still tell my mother’s story. The Usurper thinks that because she was once one of them, a drudge plucked from obscurity by the weakness of my father’s will, that their hearts have turned to her in full.

But they can never forget my mother completely, she does not let them.

When the winds howl thick, like wolves at the door, the tale, long and wondrous and wild, is whispered between huddled crones and wide-eyed children.

A tale that takes hold of the mind and heart, as surely as the cold takes to the bones.

It begins in Winter, for indeed, how could it not?

A winter long and dark, when my grandmother, a woman wise in the old ways of the world, sat sewing at her window, looking out into the forest that spreads like an ink stain all round the castle, the snow falling heavy all around her, silencing the world as she made her request to the magic of the woods.

Three drops of her own blood she spilt to gain her heart's desire, a child for her childless king. And a child she received, a beauty such as never been seen. Hair black as the trees of the forest, lips as red as the blood she had given, and skin as white as the purest snow. A child of the winter woods, born on winter’s darkest night.

A life had been granted, and so was a life taken away. My grandmother lived long enough to bless my mother with her name, and the king, who once had so longed for a child, was now too grieved to bear the sight of his new daughter. And so my mother was given over to the wife of the castle’s woodsman, recently blessed with a child of her own, and who, most importantly, lived in a cottage on the edge of the woods, far, far away from the castle grounds, and her mourning father’s eye.

For seven years my mother grew up in the care of the woodsman’s family, as loved as if she were their own blood daughter, and the girls loved each other as sisters. They spent many days beneath the shadows of the trees, and learned much from the woods. They say even then, before she had come into her power, that the creatures and spirits of that place knew my mother as part of their blood, knew that something of her had come from something within them, and protected her for it.

It was in the winter of her fifth year that she met my father, a lad of nine, trapped within an enchanted bearskin. She and her foster sister brought him into the warmth of their cabin, saving his life, and each winter for three years after, he returned. She told me once that those winters were some of the happiest memories of her life, surrounded by those she loved in the shelter of the snows.

It was in summer that her sorrows came.

It was in summer that my mother discovered the gnome that had cursed her bear, and by his death my father was freed from his enchantment, only to then return to his own far off kingdom. It was in summer that my mother was parted from her foster family, recalled to court at last--only to find her own usurper on her father’s arm.

The people of the land adored the lady who had come to them out of the sun-drenched south, calling her their Summer Queen, praising her for the abundance that had blessed the lands since she had wed the king. And surely there was never a woman so beautiful. They say that her hair flowed like sunlight itself down her shoulders until it touched the floor, braided all over with flowers of every hew, and her eyes were as blue and bright as an August morning.

My mother said she could feel those eyes trying to melt her the moment she was brought before them.

My mother was not at court long. One day, the Summer Queen surprised her with a visit from her foster-father, and though he smiled at her, his eyes seemed grim and troubled. They traveled together down to the edge of the woods, far from the eyes of any in the castle--and there he took out the knife, carved all over with flowers, to cut out her heart.

(He claimed later, when the coup was over, and my mother restored to the throne, that he had only done so to protect his family, his own little daughter. My mother granted him the same pity he had shown her, and sent him into the woods, alone and unarmed. I do not know to this day if he fell to the animals or the cold that finally came, but by all accounts, he was never seen again.)

My mother, for her part, wandered for months alone beneath the boughs of the woods. The animals did not harm her, the woods knew its own, but she dared not venture near the edges where human souls still delt, fearful now that any might betray her to the Summer Queen. And as remarkable as she was, she was still only a child, and had never had to care for herself before, and she longed for the cheer and company of creatures like herself.

More than that, the heat of a seemingly endless summer wore at her. August passed into September and September to October and on, with nary a change to be seen. The leaves on the trees remained green, and did not fall. The rivers ran along as full and fat as ever, though there was no snow left to feed them. The sun felt like a great eye, searching for her beneath the sheltering shadows of the forest. Only at night did she find respite, and she longed for the relief of a winter that never came.

Farther and farther she wandered, seeking someplace where she might find some sign of chance, some shelter from the daylight that stretched longer and longer. At last, she found herself upon the slopes of the farthest mountain. Her feet were worn ragged from wandering, and her tongue was cracked from the heat, but with the last of her strength, she managed to stagger to the summit, and there, in a hollow tucked into the dark shadows of the peaks, so dark that even the hottest of summers could not fully touch them, she found snow.

And there her strength finally deserted her. She lay down upon the snow as contentedly as if it had been a feather bed, and might have slipped into the endless sleep beneath that cold coverlet, had it not been for the little men.

The frozen-beards, the valley people call them. Dwarfs that live in the fields of ice upon the mountains, having little to do with the valley people. They delight in the cold, they are said to be able to call up snow storms to hide their homes,and in winter they might be seen galloping along in the wake of an avalanche as happy as a child at play. But for all the ice of their beards, they are warm of heart, and they took the half-frozen child into their home as readily as if she had been one of their own.

For seven years, my mother at last knew peace. In the caves of the mountains she learned much of the songs and stories and skill of her new family. She learned the shaping of swords and the setting of gems,and the summoning of wind and fog, and was happy.

But nothing lasts forever, and at last, summer found her patch of hidden winter.

The king of a far-off land had proclaimed his intention to visit our valley kingdom, which had grown in renown-- and profit-- thanks to the summer that seemed trapped within the crown of our mountain valley. The rivers and Great Lake were never clear of vessels shipping goods out and bringing gold in. Both people and purses grew fat from the bounty, and basked in the seemingly endless sunshine.

There was one stain however, upon the glorious reign of the Summer Queen, though it was only spoken of in whispers, for it would not do to complain of such small misfortune within the wake of so many blessings.

The Draining Sickness.

It came on quickly, overnight in some cases. Those afflicted withered away, drained, pale and almost bloodless, like unwatered plants beneath the noon-day sun. No one knew how it spread, it seemed to only strike one village at a time; and oddly the most healthy and comely succumbed first, as if offended by their vitality and beauty.

Fate however, seemed inclined to some mercy. For each village that was stricken with loss soon found itself blessed with an overflowing of crops and commerce, as if Death felt some blood money was owed.

It was not only the young and lovely who were taken though. The old King, my mother’s father, was struck down on Summer’s Eve itself— along with seven young girls from each of the surrounding villages. But the grief over these deaths was short-lived, such was the glory of the days that followed, the golden sunlight drying the tears from the cheeks of the mourners even as they fell. Indeed, it seemed hard to grieve anything beneath the sun of that long, long summer. The Summer Queen, clothed in green and yellow and scarlet and blue, wore only a black ribbon around her neck for mourning, and none falted her.

It was then that the rumors came, rumors that the visiting king was not only there to see the beauty of the valley, but of its women as well. Indeed, those coming before his entourage said that he was seeking out one who was rumored to be the Fairest of them All.

The Summer Queen, shining almost to match the blazing endless sun, was more than happy to aid him in his search. And it was undoubtedly her efforts to ensure her own success in fulfilling the terms of his quest which led her to discover that my mother’s heart--which she thought she had devoured seven years ago, at the start of her endless summer --still beat it’s red,red blood within her snow white breast.

A grand celebration was proclaimed in the king’s honor, a festival of such magnificence as had never been seen outside of the old stories, and travelers came from all the surrounding lands to take part, ply their trades, and sell their wares. Up and over the mountains they came, and several passed by the cave where my mother dwelt.

Was it any wonder that my mother, still so young, having found a measure of peace in that snowy valley which soothed the burns upon her soul, and made her long to return somewhat to the world of men and look once more upon human faces, took in good faith the laces, brought by from far by the cargo boats; the comb, carved and painted so cleverly with a myriad flower; and finally, most beautiful blood-red summer apple, grown in her father’s own orchard?

When my mother woke again-- to the face of my father, returned from afar at last to find the girl who had freed him from his curse, and had now freed her in return-- she was not so naive.

My father had brought many men with him, and the people of the valley had grown slow and complacent in their bounty. When his men came with their swords, and the frozen-beards called up their icy winds, and my mother rode down upon the capitol in a sleigh made from her own glass coffin, they were not prepared to withstand the onslaught. Soon enough all had either fallen to their knees —or fallen where they stood.

The Summer Queen danced at my mother’s wedding, in shoes crafted by my mother herself, in the art taught to her by her foster-fathers. Shoes which returned upon the Summer Queen all the heat of the sun which she had stolen by her sacrifices and bloody rites.

Then my mother took up her rightful throne, and winter came at last to the valley.

My mother and father were wed in the open courtyard, as the snow fell like diamonds all around them, and all agreed they had never seen a more beautiful sight. My mother’s foster sister, who had remained loyal to her true queen, was reunited with her, and wed to my father’s brother. Children followed both of them after, and for many years, the natural order of the seasons came and went.

It was on my seventh birthday that my mother found the mirror, tucked behind a tapestry woven with fruit and flowers, in the abandoned tower of the Summer Queen.

No one knows where the Summer Queen obtained the mirror. Some have claimed it was a wedding gift from her godfather, a fallen priest who had taken supper at the Scholomance. Others that she crafted it herself, from water and moonlight, on a witch’s sabbath. But my mother told me once that the mirror was only a shard of a greater whole, and that the Summer Queen had only happened upon it, and though her own powers were great, her vain and narrow mind only able to discover the basest powers of the mirror.

But my mother-- born of blood and snow and forest, learned in the lore of the mountain folk, the perfect inversion in shape and soul of the Summer Queen-- could feel at once what was before her. She had higher aspirations than to know of mere beauty. After all, why should she trouble herself over such trivial questions?

She was, and is, the Fairest of them All.

No, my mother asked for vision and clarity, and the mirror readily supplied, showing her the darkness that lay in the hearts of men, the twisted, choking desire she had already tasted in an apple grown of blood and summer heat, and she knew what she must do.

That night, on Summer’s Eve itself, the snows began to fall.

The winters lie heavy on our land now, as heavy as summer once did. Our borders have shrunken back to what they were before the days of the Summer Queen. The rivers she once choked with cargo boats and merry-makers now flow freely beneath the protection of their own glass coffins. The flowers that once crowned her traitorous head have not been seen in many a year. The mountains are eternally capped with snow, the frost-beards no longer trapped within their narrow valley. Our kingdom, once vibrantly flushed with the blood of those taken to feed an endless summer, is now white and pure, cleansed by the endless falling snow.

My mother saved her kingdom from a blood soaked opulence, from a land made rich and fat off the hearts of their own, and yet they still turned upon her. Called her witch, demon, and worse. In the end, as the purifying snows fell heavier and heavier, The Usurper-- covered in ash from the fires she’d set to hold the snows at bay-- besieged the capitol. With her brother at her side, with an army of thred-bare shop-keepers and merchants laid low, she came up the Great Road with as much pride and assurance as if the crown sat already upon her head.

My aunt, foster-sister of my mother, and others who remained loyal, who knew their true queen for the power that she was, fought back. Indeed, my aunt and the wolves that answered to her slew The Usurper’s brother upon the very threshold. But the faithful were soon overwhelmed. The few who survived were driven into the woods, seeking the shelter that had been granted to my mother. The Usurper had the trees set ablaze, calling out that the dark powers of the forest would not be allowed to aid the followers of a witch. Her army came right up to the palace gates. And my father, my dear, foolish, fearful, traitorous father, who’s heart had been turned by The Usurper’s treacherous lies--himself unbarred the door for her.

My mother did not flee, whatever they say. She who had vowed to never be driven by anyone again, she who had bent the very elements to her will. She did not flee before The Usurper’s feeble army of ragged townsfolk and treacherous palace guards,even as they tore up her portraits, burned her books, and smashed her mirror into a thousand pieces.

No,they were not granted that victory. When she fell, she fell of her own accord, and her white gown sparkled like snow-flakes in the sun as she dived, down from the window at which her mother had once sat sewing, down, down into the blazing, waiting embrace of the woods that had heard her mother’s prayer.

When the fires at last burned themselves out, they found my mother’s body, ash covered, but untouched by the flames, as if even they could not bear to besmirch her beauty. She was placed once more in the glass coffin that bore her name, and it sat in state for three days in the royal chapel. She was, after all, a king’s daughter, and wife of another. On the third day, it was gone. Some claim she was properly buried, far beneath the ground, with a hawthorn branch in her heart. Others say that the rebels took the coffin, and burned it till the glass was melted down into a lump as black as her hair had been. The faithful say that the frost-beards came in the dark of the night, and reclaimed their daughter, carrying the coffin up once more to the high valley where my father once found her, to await the day when she will awaken again.

If she has not so already.

For though my mother’s crown sits on The Usurper’s head, and her daughters are to be sent to the far corners of the earth, in hopes the heat of the sun and the scent of the flowers will drive her from their hearts, the winter still lays heavy upon the land, and the wind has not ceased to blow since the day that she fell.

Father is sending us away tomorrow, and I do not think he shall be long in following. So many have left already. He longs for the shores of his youth, where the spring and summer follows after the winter. My uncle, his brother, has already returned there, with many of his children. The common folk are leaving as regularly as they can clear the mountain passes, which is not easy in these times. The birds and gentler animals left years ago. Soon, it will be only the wolves that prowl the dark woods, edging closer and closer into the towns as more and more people abandon my mother’s frozen kingdom. They say that the spectre of my aunt can be seen running with the wolves sometimes, when the moon is obscured by clouds, red cloak trailing behind her like blood on the snow.

They can send me away, but I shall find my way back. A thousand’s flowers scents could not make me forget the smell of the pines, a thousand bird’s songs could not drown out the howl of the wind. The bluest of skies cannot burn away the purest of snows. Not all the mirror’s pieces were ground to powder. I managed to save one, one single shard reclaimed in the chaos that shattered my childhood. I have kept it close, reworked and polished it, set it into a clasp on a chain that rests even now against my heart, hidden beneath my dress so that The Usurper cannot see. Already I have learned much, not as much as my mother, I do not claim that, but enough

And when the time is right, I know it shall lead me home. Past the guards that will be placed at the door, past the gates that will be barred, over the rivers and hills and far away, back to my mother’s mountain. And there I know I shall find her again, hair as black as night, lips as red as blood, skin as white as snow; riding in her sleigh of glass thru the eternal winter air to meet me.

#my writing #snow white #snow white retelling #got inspired by a few different short stories #Tanith Lee's Red as Blood #Neil Gaiman's Snow Glass Apples #and Theodora Goss' England Under the White Witch #plus just my own love of faitytales and finding ways to mash them together #also wanted to do a dark Snow White story where she doesn't just start out as an evil vampiry child #but becomes corrupted by her fear and trauma #snow white and the seven dwarfs #snow white and rose red #little red riding hood #hansel and gretel #(the usurper is meant to be gretel as in some varients she grows up to marry a king #and who better to kill a witch?)#honestly would love to come back and explore some of the other characters in this story like her and red riding hood)#the snow queen #(really i think i just wanted to tie all the snow white/snow stories together x)#short stories #short story #walter crane #for the banner art #dwarves #witches #vampires #kinda with the witch queen

62 notes · View notes

ghostoffuturespast · 3 months

Text

So It Goes - Chapter 41: Anarchy

[X]

The hallway exploded. Concussions rippled and wracked the air, followed a millisecond later by the shredding of glass and metal. Shock waves sent stray bits of shrapnel rocketing past to lodge in the carpet while chunks of concrete catapulted in a spray of dust and battered the walls. Screams; the bang of the starting guns. The timer started.

I'm nearing the end of this fic, and, well, no more poems after this. (At least, I don't think...) So, I did something a little special for the occasion. Maybe kinda spoilery if you're reading the fic, but if you've played the game, you already know.

Transcript below the cut if you don't want to listen to me read remixed poetry for 4:20. (ha) Not quite formatted correctly since there aren't any justification settings here and I skipped my playing around with blank space, but you get the drift:

The Sailing Rime of J. Alfred Prufrock and The Ancient Mariner's Love Song to Byzantium

I should have been a pair of ragged claws Scuttling across the floors of silent seas. To ask a question: Would you take a bullet for me? And some in dream assured were Of the Spirit that plagued us so; Nine fathom deep he had followed us From the land of mist and snow. The self-same moment I could pray, And from my neck so free The Albatross fell off, and sank Like lead into the sea. Let us go then, you and I... And would it have been worth it, after all, Would it have been worth while, After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets, After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor- And this, and so much more?- It is impossible to say just what I mean! But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen: Would it have been worth while If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl, And turning toward the window, should say: "That is not it at all, That is not what I meant, at all." No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be; Am an attendant lord, one that will do To swell a progress, start a scene or two, Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool, Deferential, glad to be of use, Politic, cautious, and meticulous; Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse; At times, indeed, almost ridiculous- Almost, at times, the Fool. That is no country for old men. The young In one another's arms, birds in the trees, -Those dying generations- at their song, The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas, Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer long Whatever is begotten, born, and dies. Caught in that sensual music all neglect Monuments of unageing intellect. I grow old... I grow old... I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled. An aged man is but a paltry thing, A tattered coat upon a stick, unless Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing For every tatter in its mortal dress, Nor is there singing school but studying Monuments of its own magnificence; An therefore I have sailed the seas and come To the holy city of Byzantium. Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach? I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach. I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each. O sages standing in God's holy fire As in the gold mosaic of a wall, Come from the holy fire, perne in a gyre, And be the singing-masters of my soul. Consume my heart away; sick with desire And fastened to a dying animal It knows not what it is; and gather me Into the artifice of eternity. I do not think that they will sing to me. Once out of nature I shall never take My bodily form from any natural thing, But such a form as Grecian goldsmiths make Of hammered gold and gold enamelling To keep a drowsy Emperor awake; Or set upon a golden bough to sing To lords and ladies of Byzantium Of what is past, or passing, or to come. I have seen them riding seaward on the waves Combing the white hair of the waves blown back When the wind blows the water white and black. We have lingered in the chambers of the sea By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

The Rime of the Ancient Mariner by Samuel Taylor Coleridge The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T.S. Eliot Sailing to Byzantium by William Butler Yeats

#cyberpunk 2077 #writing #fan fiction #fic: so it goes #oc: valerie hye jin li #my grandpa v #stinky not fresh #v x river ward #though to be fair this chapter is the v and johnny show #v and johnny - back on my conjunction bologna #all the poems #i dropped the texas this time so y'all know what i sound like for real now #my face on the other hand nu-uh

22 notes · View notes

libbyframe · 1 year

Note

Would you be willing to share the lyrics for Sunkissed? I can't stop listening to it, it's so pretty.

thank you, yes!

Driving through the salty air

Wind brushing through my hair

I can taste the sea

waves beckon softly to me

Oranges and peaches

picked from a tree

Sweet sparkling juices

washed off by the sea

Sun kissed baby

Do you want to be lazy

take a swim lets float around

Lost in the deep blue

No one but me and you

100 miles from the ground

Sail away hold my hand

To a summertime feeling

Get lost in the sand

Till our sunburns start peeling

Its a seaside lullaby

So sweet it makes me wanna cry

Memories drifting

When you were there with me

#beach peach #lyrics #sunkissed

116 notes · View notes

searchingforserendipity25 · 10 months

Note

Daeron/Maglor "...because the world is ending"? 😚

Hi @polutrope <3 This one one has been living in my docs as Daemags date night (the night to end all nights) for a month. Here it is at last!

The Night to End All Nights

Daeron had been deep into the roadless deserts, when Arien fell - her last blazing sunset had lit the dunes with dreadful beauty, rose sand purples and a red redder than red.

Then, the quiet. Handfuls of stars, snuffed out one after another.

He made his way onwards. Once, the land had not been desert; once, there had been paths of cobblestones paved with sound craft, and there had been chariots, carriages, riders and companies making their ways from glorious cities whose names were lost in the dust, removed from the world entirely, if not for Daeron's memory.

Daeron lived much in memory, now. There the dry well, there the empty streets of the empty city. Here, a deep-rooted peach tree had grown, where only a gray husk remained - he had gathered wild fruits from its generous boughs, shared them with an old enemy in the shelter of its shade, licked the juices from his fingertips and wrist and mouth until he shook as finely as the green leaves in the summer breeze.

Wherever he passed the land groaned with its own undoing.

Beleriand had been thus ruined, in its moribund years; but this was a ravaging wasting sickness, not a wound upon Arda to be solved with the amputation of one continent or another. Above and around and in all places a hundred, a thousand birds flew madly, till they dropped exhausted upon the last grass of the last spring.

The matter of the sky splintered and rained down great boulders of iron that shook and shattered the earth, smoldering with a fell fire, all the hard stone of the mountain ranges shaking and shaking like a single fevered body, bound up in strange resonances of power. One fell near enough to him that the raised dust clung to his lungs and fouled his throat for a time: and then Daeron grew afraid, for a time, shaken from the clear, beautiful rage against Morgoth into fright.

The cough passed, slowly.

The very air grew colder, made cruel without the sun. The waters grew wilder, without the moon; and all creatures grew despairing and violent, in the absence of starlight.

Still: Daeron went onwards. There was a great epilogue to judge - he was not a light-hearted critic, but he did intend to be there at the end, and at the start as well.

And he had an appointment to keep. They had agreed on this, a long time ago, and Daeron for his part was determined to cross crevasses as needed not to be the faithless one.

He had not thought Maglor would fail to be there. Not truly, in any case - not this time.

The land leaned towards the gaping of the world, its old longing for water calling out so starkly it was almost a song. This place had been full of life, once: a lake with many small islands, many new-made voices raised in song rippling the waters.

All the little water that remained reflected only darkness above, darkness around. Not enough remained of the waters of Cuiviénen to be drunk. Daeron’s torch lit it like the flare of a false moon, fading as passed it by.

It was quite beautiful, in its way. All things were unraveling to Song at last: the last fields of grass clinging to the cliff-side called out a rustling wind-song even as they turned to ash, glorious a rush of Music with the memory of the seed’s patience in winter and the growing rush of spring turning to the conflagration of summer.

Daeron closed his eyes. Did he weep, at the beauty of it? He could not sing. It was not time, yet; his voice curled thick and urgent in his aching throat, waiting.

They met at the very edge of the shoreline, where the whitewater rush of the shattered Encircling Sea broke into the gaping maw of the Void. The fall was very steep, the precipice very high, taller than any tower ever wrought. The sound of the water was an unnerving, slithering quiet, for it fell through fogs and mists; and the fall had no end.

A single raised light flickered, there where crumbling stone and air met, but the burned hand that held it up did not flinch from the licking slants of wind-swept fire.

“You are late,” Maglor said, chin raised. His voice, too, was less splendid than it might have been. Certainly less proud. Daeron’s heart turned in his chest, treacherously fond. “And I see you have not even brought any wine, either.”

“It was your turn to bring the wine,” Daeron pointed out. His words rasped in his throat a little, at the start. “I brought it last time."

"Forgive me! If it is any consolation," Maglor said. "I crossed the lands where the marketplace where those sweet bean pastries you loved once stood. Alas! Nought but ruins remain. There, here, everywhere! I had half a mind to start without you."

"That is well enough," Daeron said. He felt a little drunk already, dizzy with terror and Maglor's proximity.

His face caught the torch light, his eyes very bright. Maglor smiled at him. It was an effort - he could see the ancient grief moving in his face, a depth like the strata of the earth being pressed away to make room for it.

They had met on appointed dates two dozen times altogether. By the white piers of Belfalas or the moors of Arnor, sharing the same flask under the vibrant stars of Rhûn’s fields. Brushing knuckles; pressing their mouth’s where a touch had been, in the indulgent absurdity of second-hand lovemaking between two ancient creatures.

They had met. Not many times, but often enough; and always at the parting, regardless of how sweet or how bitter it might be, there was the renewed promise. We shall meet at the end! Even when it had been said in contempt and fury, and the end of the world not long enough to suit the day’s rage.

It passed, the anger. When one lived as long as they did, it grew very difficult to cleave to anything for very long. Grief was a habit, and singing duty and care and craft; all the rest passed and thinned as mist in the sun. Until they met again - until they met each other, and all colours grew bright, the winds colder, the summers gentler.

Daeron waved it away, lightly, light-hearted. O, he felt mad, trapped against the great maw of the black night - but a strange thing very like a laugh trembled on his throat.

"I know I shall! That is not my concern. I knew you would not start without me,” Daeron said. "I could not doubt it. And yet I am glad that I was late; I could not know how much of gladness remained, before I saw your light in the dark, waiting."

“Then I am glad," Maglor said, and the salt that clung to his hair prickled Daeron's nose when he neared. "Though it was a cold wait, and the journey colder still. You give me too much credit. For once! But I could not tarry. There was nowhere else to walk to, nor any other place I could wish to be."

“It is quite beautiful,” Daeron said, looking upon the cliffside. His eyes strained to see the scant starlight reflecting on the distant spray, silvering the night for brief instants. “In its way.”

“The sea was more beautiful,” Maglor said. "Its white sands and silver pebbles gleaming, and the black basalt sand of the Western islands. Gone, all gone! Now we are islanders only, the Encircling Sea the only sea; and its waters fall beyond reaching. I miss the sea-that-was, though it never did thank me for my company."

The mountains were gone. The fallow fields, and the valleys with their crumbling walls left abandoned in long lost days - the great cities of Men, one empire after another devoured by a greater and most ancient greed.

They had seen many kingdoms rise and fall together, over time; but there had been a constancy in that, not this absence of voices and wills, this death-bound silence.

It had not been often that they had wandered together for long. That was a thing neither of them could withstand easily - not they, minstrels to the dead, whose last elegiac duties were not suited to company. Their paths diverged, coming apart to come together again, and there had been joy too with every bitter parting. But they had agreed on this, under the light of the stars, Ages ago. Cuiviénen, at the end of all things - this much, at least, when the time came, at the end.

Daeron laid a hand on his cheek, and felt the warmth of it with a dizzying desire. So it would be this, then, he thought. The last touch; the last kiss, soft as a balm, a vertiginous fall into an embrace from a height no lesser than the sundered face of the breaking world. Daeron held him close with fierce hands, chased the stains of bitter soot on Maglor’s heeks with his mouth, tangled his fingers in braidless curls as dark as the night.

The last, the last! His eyes stung. Daeron was greedy, at the last, covetous with love as had ever been his vice, slow to relinquish. Love renewed all things, even grief; though the grief of Arda's fall had seeped into him into a killing drought, and no more tears remained in him to be shed.

The Music murmured its own last notes, a soundless song of mingled joy and despair.

More despair, at the end, and Daeron had feared, feared, feared it tremendous, more than the Starkinder's defeat or the death of all fruiting trees. Wandering alone in the lightless dark, voice failing and nothing listening, he had thought on the Theme and feared there would not be enough of joy, in the end - had judged his purpose beyond himself, all of Melian's careful and wise tutelage wasted and worn through.

So it had been, in solitude.

"Sweet Daeron. Forgive me,” Maglor said once more, sighing against his neck. His solid warmth was no greater than the flame's, wavering much as Daeron wavered on his feet. "I bring no gifts, and my might is diminished. The melody is yours, if you like. It is not wine, but it might suit your tastes as well, or better."

"It shall be," Daeron said. He knew it as he spoke, and almost laughed for how clear it was to him; he gripped Maglor's hand tightly. "But not mine alone, I judge; for are we not both singers of laments? One last paeon, then: and let not all things that were good and great and terrible fall unremembered, while there is breath with which to sing them."

Above them and around them the last stars went pale, and weary, and dead. The two torches flared, faded, lost the last of their fire.

Then, the quiet. Daeron stepped back. Raised a hand, to mark the time.

It was very easy, after all, to sing together at the end of all things: easy as summer, even in the dark.

#daeron #maglor #daeron/maglor #my fic #the silmarillion fanfic #daemags #wrestled with this on a four hour bus ride and it is finally done (and i've finally arrived 🙌 )

56 notes · View notes

head-of-sea-foam-the-system · 1 month

Text

New comic! This is a collaboration with the wonderful @sketchbook-stars!

Our story is on the left, and theirs is on the right.

Some notable people on my side of the comic include:

@milady-mothman - the best friend in the first panel!

@gagtodeath - the cousin in the third panel!

@andrewjacksondestroyer - our very close friend from the fourth panel!

We’ve been trying to publish more of these, but we keep wanting to start new comics instead of finishing old ones (yes, we have ADHD, lol).

Uhhh so anyway, hope you enjoy!

[Image ID: Note: There are two stories told simultaneously in this comic. The story on the left will be described first, and then the story on the right.

Begin ID: Panel 1: The background is sea foam green. There is some text near the top that reads, “Coming out to our best friend as a system was a huge deal for us. They’re super supportive and we love them very much (platonically). Underneath that, there is a gray text message bubble coming from the left that reads, “who am I speaking to?” Beneath that, there is a blue text message bubble that reads, “Ao and Ruby, thanks for asking.”

Panel 2: The background is sea foam green. There is one block of text near the top that reads, “We came out to another friend using memes and a comic we made on Super Storyboarder.” Beneath that, there is another block of text that reads, “She thought the memes were funny and seemed to really appreciate them.”

Panel 3: The background is sea foam green. There is a block of text at the top of the page that reads, “Coming out to our cousin was a pretty big deal. We came out to her after the concert of an artist we both love. We had brought up DID before, but we would always talk about our ‘friends,’ who were a system (hint: it was us). She’s always been super understanding and even follows us on Simply Plural now.” Beneath that is a drawing of two people on a dock across from some land with trees and houses. The water around the dock is reflecting an orange color, like the sunset. The person on the right has short black hair, peach skin, and is wearing a white shirt with long sleeves and white pants. There is a white box next to them that says, “Coltun (they/them), one of two alters who has a super deep voice while fronting (the only one of the two that we knew about at the time). They are saying, “Did you hear the change in my voice before?” The person on the left has long red hair, peach skin, a black shirt with long sleeves, and blue pants. She is saying, “Yeah, I was wondering if that was you.”

Panel 4: The background is sea foam green. There are two blocks of text at the top. The first one says, “One of our biggest system coming outs was the first time we ever told anyone. Ao knew of 8 alters at the time (including eirself), but thought ey was imagining them (spoiler alert: ey wasn’t). The block of text beneath it says, “We had heard of DID before, but knew almost nothing about it.” Beneath that, there are two people sitting on a gray ledge with their feet on a sidewalk. The one on the right has long brown hair, peach skin, a neutral facial expression, light brown eyes, thick black square glasses, a red flannel jacket with long sleeves, blue pants, and red shoes. There is some text next to him that says, “Corey (he/him), co-host of our friend’s system at the time.” He is saying, “I’m a system, which means I am many people in one body.” The person on the left, Ao, has peach skin, reddish-brown hair, a shocked facial expression, blue eyes, a gray hoodie with a darker gray pocket and hood, black shorts and black shoes. Ey is saying, “That sounds like what I’ve been experiencing!”

Begin second story ID:

First panel: The background is a warm shade of pink. There is a block of text near the middle that says, “we never planned to come out to any of our friends initially, being afraid of being judged or misunderstood. yet it turned out to not be so bad.” Beneath that, there is a smiling person who is the same color as the background with shoulder-length messy hair.

Second panel: The background is a warm shade of pink. At the top of the panel, there is some text that says, “Yet after a while, one of our hosts was tired of hiding it all, and told some of our friends.” A block of text below that on the right side of the panel reads, “They were extremely accepting.” There are two people in the panel. Both are the same color as the background. The first has completely black eyes, shoulder-length somewhat messy hair, two antlers, a smile, a bit of sweat on their face, a pointy tail, a turtleneck sweater under an open jacket with cuffed sleeves, and pants. “Lucid” is written above their head. There is a tiny speech bubble next to them with an ampersand in it. The person on the right has short hair with bangs that cover their eyes, a slightly open mouth, lines next to their face indicating emotion, and a hoodie with long drawstrings. Next to them is a small speech bubble with a check mark and an exclamation point.

Panel 3: The background is a warm shade of pink. At the top of the panel, there is a block of text that says, “and on the inverse, we helped our partner realize that they were also a system.” Beneath that, there is more text that says, “it warmed our hearts to know that they trusted us with this concept and we helped them come to terms and realize it.” There are two people below that. Both are the same color as the background. The one on the left is looking at the one on the right. They are winking. They have shoulder-length hair, a smile, a braided band in their hair, and two pairs of wings- one on their head and one on their back. The word above their head is Civ. There is some text above their head that says, “y’know, how did you NOT realize??” The person on the right is looking at the person on the left. Their mouth is open. They have chin-length hair, a hoodie, horns, and a pointy tail. The word above their head is Colix. There is some text above them that says, “..IM A LITTLE STUPID-“

Panel 4: The background is a warm shade of pink. The text at the top says, “We don’t regret being open about our system one bit.” The text beneath it says, “It might have caused us some pain, but we have made so many more good memories since that day.” Beneath that, there are two people holding hands. They are sitting on green grass and the background behind them (underneath the text) is crimson. The person on the left has peach skin, shoulder-length dark crimson hair, black eyes, a smile with a fang in it, a red shirt with long sleeves and a white collar and cuff, crimson pants, a dark crimson bat wing on the left side, black shoes, and a red rose on the right side of their hair. There are three small speech bubbles on the left side of them. The top one has a red heart, the middle one has an orange flower, and the bottom one has a yellow star. The person on the right is looking at them. They have thin black square glasses, light blue-green skin, light blue-green hair that sticks out more and is a little longer than the hair of the other person, a smile, a darker blue-green shirt with a frill on the front under a darker blue-green jacket buttoned at the bottom with a collar, darker blue green pants, and a furry tail the same color as their skin. On the right side of their face is a dark blue-green patch. They do not have an eye there.

End ID]

#did/osdd #traumagenic system #did #did comics #did/osdd comics #coming out #coming out as a system #this comic took a while so we hope you like it!

15 notes · View notes

drunkdumbfucker · 3 months

Text

"These modern AU fics" where Legolas's elfish sleeping habit is translated by some deep-rooted insomnia and he's so obsessed with the stars and constellations and beautiful blankets that night puts over his head, he can't sleep he can't ever miss any dark-ink sky every purple waves as the sun goes to sleep and every peach dunes as the moon gives her farewells, disappearing for a nap with a last caress to her diligent guardian's cheek. Legolas will fight leagues of exhaustion, enamoured with his eery moon and beautiful sketches etched in bright and as they say about the night sky in True Detective "once there was only dark, if you ask me the light is winning." and the light will always win as long as Legolas is around to keep watch and it's truly terrible because somehow Legolas feels like if he sleeps stars will die alone and the single thought of it makes his heart burn oh! they have to be grieved! he wears the stars on his shoulders they are as light as his love for Gimli but as heavy as his eyelids when it gets too much, weighting tons of eons of empty graves his little stars have all died. And indeed finally, at one point, it's all too much for the Moon's lonely warrior, the shield has cracked, coffee can drip again and again it's not enough now, he has to sleep, because the moon and stars and Legolas have all encountered their deadliest and greatest ennemy.

One night, instead of hearing cicadas, dancing leaves, warm breezes, Legolas hears the sea. The One Sea. A sea that calls in his bones, waves that rattle in his chest, blood drenched in salt and instead of keeping watch, Legolas falls asleep. It is much worse than a siren song, not quite a lullaby, deadlier than a war horn, it holds him sharp in a warm embrace. Legolas falls asleep on his garden chair, drowned by a yawn, longing for a sea only the dead can see.

In the morning, Gimli finds him there, stumbles at the sight, his chest clenched by dread. His Legolas is asleep. It's the first time in the two decades they have known each other that Gimli falls witness to such palor on his partner's face, golden eyelashes casting unheard shadows. His Legolas's long thin stretched limbs who sleeps more and more unbeknownst to his worried moon and stars.

When he wakes, shaken by murmured sweet-nothings, it feels like he's in a glass cage, the dry sand and the seagulls and the taste of ozone is a quiet echo from his dreams but, worse than being prisoner, Legolas realizes, there's an opaque roof over his head blinding him from the milky way and planets and comets. From now on, he's stranded, will only witness moons and stars behind closed eyes!!!!!! BECAUSE HE'S GOT SEA-LONGING MOTHERFU-

Stopping right here caus-

Stopping here caus it hurts

"Gimli was still deep in slumber, but Legolas was standing, gazing northwards into the darkness, thoughtful and silent as a young tree in a windless night." (p.554)

#gimleaf #legolas greenleaf #gimli son of gloin #lotr #sea-longing #I HAVE NO explanation #except my 16hour shift which i spent reading the two towers and crying my ass off about boromir dont look at me #my shitset #you don't understand they live in the countryside gimli has a shed he does wood work he loves stones and jewelry #they have an enormous library #legolas cooks so well he spends his time outside they have a little lake beside the garden #they both spend their time in the garden #fucken hell #long post

11 notes · View notes

thebearme · 1 year

Text

MY EENE HEADCANONS

just going to warn you that this is long

EDgar Joseph

6'9 ft

Demi-Romantic

Caucasian

Pisces 23 Y/o 3/2/1985

Film college major (Jobs: Indie horror film maker, Animal caretaker)

FAVORITE FOOD:

Butter toast & Gravy (duh)

VIBE:

Alien Boy - Oliver Tree

Eight Wonder - Lemon Demon

Turn the lights off - TallyHall

- Arts & craft master

- Has a fursona

- Learned what a shower is

- He's still is a lil gross

- Ed changed his name to Ed so he can match with Eddy when he was 6

- Ed real name is: Bob Horace Joseph

- Lemon demon fan

- The one ed to be dating a Kankers (May)

- The oldest ed (he got left-back a year)

- Has yellow teeth becuz he didn't brush his teeth when he was younger

- Has a pet chicken from Rolf but it's at the barn, can't stay at the dorms :(

- Takes care of Rolf's animals ever so often, he loves when he can help

- Thinks of Dee like a mom figure

- Is on better ground with Sarah after BPS and once she realizes how awful their mom was to Ed

- Ed's the only person with yellow skin that because of all the gravy grease he eats

- Drop the violin to play all types of weird instruments instead

- LOVES crytids, FNAF lore and SCP

- Likes going to haunted places for fun

- Ed's drawings are now ten times more disturbing

- Draws on mspaint

- MUST. HAVE. OVERSIZED. SLEEVES!

- Ed is a food stealer

- Ed and Edd bond with the unexplainable wonders of the world (Deep sea creatures)

- Instead of getting a chewy necklace he just buys chew toys for dogs, they're cheaper and cooler

- Uses weird emojis: 🧟‍♂️🦷🧠🪳🌚

- ASD & ADHD

Disability:

* Has a fractured skull

* Brain hurts fr when he thinks hard

* Frequently lost of balance = needs a cane

EDDward (Double dee) Johnson

6'3 ft

Trans-Masc & Bi

(Afro-Vietnamese)

Aquarius 22 Y/o 2/10/1986

Psychology major / Science engineering minor (Jobs: none, scholarships & grants are paying the tuition)

FAVORITE FOOD:

Tuna fish gumbo

VIBE:

The machine - Lemon Demon

American healthcare - Penelope Scott

I threw out love of my dreams - Weezer

Pretty rave girl

- It was hard for Dee to not pick every major

- Double dee got overwhelmed with the college choices he had so he just followed the eds in to Peach Creek's community college

- The OCD got worse when he got older so the eds made a compromise to help clean the dorm often

- Santa believer

- Has a Costco supply of everything

- He likes scene but doesn't tell the eds

- Can't flirt for his life

- Dee Prays everyday that God will forgive the eds sins

- insomniac

- Double dee is trying to find a Scientific explanation for why their tongues are still dyed by the jawbreakers for years now

- Double dee has to braid his hair back before going to bed or else it would be wild in the morning

- Dee is comfortable in his body, doesn't need a bind all the time

- If you don't let Dee to say big words he'll start speaking like a bimbo unironically

- The Light-skin

- Is a ferret

- He got therapy for the 'dodgeball incident'

- Still wears his hat always, even when the eds already know about the scar

- Still passionate about learning but is slowly being a burnt out gifted student

- Even though Eddy tends to distract Dee from studying, if Eddy left college Double dee would have dropped out with him. A least for a gap year(s)

- Dee is a hugger

- Double dee found out that there's a Chemical compound with in shrooms that lessen the psychological symptoms of OCD...

- Dee has shrooms

- Dee is not afraid to be the bitchy friend to make sure the eds don't get themselves into jail

- Willing to kill for Eddy

- A certified forklift driver

- Mothers Ed

- Writes large paragraphs in text and the small amount of emoticons he uses are: =] >:-( :-D

- ASD

Disability:

* Asthma

* Diabetic (genetic, from both parents) Wears a insulin pump

Edwin (EDDY) McGee

5'3 ft

Pans

Puerto Rican (1/2 mother's side)

Italian American (1/2 father's side)

Aries 21 Y/o 3/24/1987

Undeclared major

(Jobs: whatever job he has that week)

FAVORITE FOOD:

Crafts mac n cheese

VIBE:

Soft Fuzzy Man - Lemon Demon

What's New Pussycat - Tom Jones

Lyin' Awake - Steam Powered Giraffe

Cuphead Rap - JT Music

- Eddy frankly doesn't know how he graduated high school

- Eddy loves old stuff (music, clothes, technology)

- Eddy likes underrated/unappreciated historical figures

- He can still be erratic sometimes and still haves trust issues

- Eddy does his nails

- Once he stopped wearing his brother's clothes he started finding his own style

- He is a FASHION KING, never seen in the same clothes often

- Drag queen

- Still doesn't understand personal space or the difference from complements and flirting

- Still a big sap

- Constantly sleeps in Dee bedroom instead of his own

- Insecure with his curly hair so he gel's it most of the time

- HE'S A BINGUS CAT

- Weed smoker

- Once had the eds do a breaking bad

- Surprisingly nice legs

- Insomniac

- Eddy tends to have depressive episodes

- Occasionally goes to therapy, but keeps making light of his issues or dodging them completely

- Writes his name on his food so Ed won't steal it (It doesn't work)

- Was a Premature baby

- Eddy is actually really smart and can make things, he just doesn't have the foresight or the motivation

- Eddy has a pet mouse

- He's flexible and can do acrobatics

- Eddy is still a little narcissistic

- ADHD

Disability:

* Has a stiff right wrist (has a wrist brace that he doesn't wear, prefers to just use he's left hand)

#ed edd n eddy #eene #eene fanart #ed edd n eddy fanart #eene ed #eene edd #eene double d #eene eddy #eene headcanons

118 notes · View notes

hcdragonwrites · 10 months

Text

Letters (a @journey-to-the-au Drabble)

I made another thing (yeah I couldn’t help myself but this one is shorter I think. I hope you like it!) I just. Brain fire.

Inspired by <a href="https://www.tumblr.com/journey-to-the-au/722003448742248448/may-we-hear-about-the-yaogui-attack-0-apologies" >This Post </a>

(Also I suck at linking things I’m so sorry.)

Liu crossed out the line on the parchment before him, splashing ink onto the stone beneath his feet in an frustrated spray.

“No that doesn’t sound right either!” He gritted his teeth, growing frustrated. General Liu, one of the Four great Generals of Flower- Fruit mountain and friend to its King Sun Wukong, had a dilemma.

He set the brush down, still getting used to holding it in his hands. Wukong makes this look so easy! But things of the unmonkey nature came easily to Wukong- how could they not ? He had mastered the mysterious arts that had given him such power, had defeated the demon who had first claimed Water- Curtain Cave in his absence (and more beside.) Wukong had walked among the men of the world and had claimed treasure from dragons.

Wukong would be able to hold a brush with ease and write words with a steady hand. The general tugged at his fur and looked about himself. Rolls of parchment lay about him like discarded rinds of watermelons. All the failed attempts to transcribe what his heart was trying to speak. He tugged more, hairs coming free.

When Wukong spoke of his experience in the world abroad their mountain, he had mentioned how the important people within that strange world of mortals and immortals would communicate through scrolls and parchment.

“It was too quiet at times for my liking!” He reminisced once, splashing some wine as he gesticulated upon his throne. “What silence! What needed to be written that couldn’t be communicated with a clear voice?” He would then call for one of the troop of his subjects to retell a story, for Wukong loved the telling of a yarn through voice and act.

Liu had understood why one would want words written down however. The things he wanted to say- to tell- either fled him like mist before the sun or stuck in his throat like a peach stone. The Marshal scratched behind his ear, brushing the notched edge and remembering. Remembering her.

Rin Rin.

Liu had never been one for such deep hesitation as he was now. In all the Aolai country, among and betwixt the unicorns and the phoenixes who preened and called themselves the most beautiful, where the leopards and the tigers roamed and boasted their own majesty, Liu had faced all that threatened his home with bravery. He loved this mountain, from every blade of grass to every luminous stone deep in Water-Curtain Cave. He thought none of the beasts or birds or celestial bodies in Heaven was more beautiful than his home.

Except Her.

He wanted to tell her. Tell Rin Rin how she rivaled all the clouds in heaven for her softness. How no flower could compare to her eyes and how they shined like the sea when the sun hit it. Her smile could make the trees cry and her anger could chase the stripes off a tiger.

Liu was afraid. Not afraid of her. Afraid to miss this opportunity! His tail lashed and sent a bit of paper skittering over the stone floor, knocking into several stone bowls of almonds.

The mountain was a paradise. The waterfall that crashed beyond, the pine forests that dotted the slopes where their needles spiced the air. He had faced tigers and demons, fought and thrown himself into situation after situation of danger without a second thought for himself.

Now he was hesitant. He acted as he had on that day Wukong had found Water- Curtain cave: hesitant. Marshal Liu had not been hesitant since that time- so why had he returned to this state ?

Liu looked down at the paper and groaned.

“I just want to tell her how beautiful she is…”

Steps approached from outside Liu’s room.

“So this is where you’ve been!” Wukong called, stepping into the room with a frown on his face. “I have been waiting for you in the Throne room for hours! Sentries have spotted what look to be the makings of a camp. We have a troop of creatures lurking in the shadow of our mountain and I need my Generals— what is all this stuff ?”

Liu didn’t bother to cover up his failings- he just lay his head on the stone table and glared at the brush.

“You only called for a meeting a few minutes ago, my king.” He replied from the table.

“Minutes- hours. It has been too long! What have you been up to in here?”Wukong picked up a paper scroll, the feathered crown on his head bobbing.

“You are as pretty as a … hmm. You never finished this one Liu!”

Liu moved his face to flatten into the stone table, feeling his cheeks burn and his ears itch. Of course my king would start reading them.

Shuffling paper noises sounded again as Wukong picked another scroll up.

“My heart becomes a candle when you are near—“ he frowned. “You crossed out the rest in a mess of black.”

Liu wished he could dissolve into the stone.

“You smell as sweet as a magnolia flower- your eyes are the shape of stars —“

“Please My King.” He begged. “Spare me.”

“You wrote them Liu! I am only reading.”

“And I ask for mercy, please.”

“Seems you’ve had trouble finishing whatever you were trying to say.” Mused the Sage.

“None of the words formed well enough on the paper.” Marshal Liu sighed. There came a shuffle and a brush beside him. He lifted his head to see Wukong had crossed his legs beside him, a shoulder companionably against Lius. The Monkey King twirled the brush between his fingers, unrolling a new scroll of parchment.

“If I help you Write your love poem to Rin, Will you stop mooning so sadly ?” Wukong cocked a brow at his general, side eyeing him in a way only a friend could.

Marshal Liu felt his pride pricked, just a bit. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Liu- you have been my friend for countless years. Longer than most monkeys usually live.” Wukong dipped the brush into the inkwell, checking the ink stone and grimacing at its diminished size. “I know you from the tips of your ears to the ends of your fur. We have fought and bled side by side. You may be a master at strategy and planning but. My friend.”

Wukong turned his whole face to stare at Liu. “You suck at hiding how in love you are with Rin Rin.”

The Marshal sat up, opened his mouth to defend, to deflect —

Wukong, Great Sage Equal to Heaven, waited. His face set in a neutral and very are you really going to argue with me? expression.

Liu closed his mouth, tugged at his fur and set his chin on the stone table. “She makes me feel so—-“

“Mhm.”

“She’s so—!”

“Mhm…”

“I just can’t get the words out!” The Marshal admitted finally. “Each time I start to tell her, I freeze. I’ve tried so many times!”

When Rin and He had shared a sweet patch of strawberries he had tried to say how he loved her.

When Rin had been tending to a scratch on his face, chiding and reprimanding him for his recklessness again. Her anger had made him want to hold her and reassure her that he was fine.

When they had decided to stay out late, tails curled together as they counted the stars. Liu had wanted to compare her to each one.

And each of these times his words had either fled him or had refused to come out.

“And you thought to write them out because they keep getting stuck.”

Liu nodded.

“Give me the words and I’ll write them down.” Wukong set the tip, ready. “If I write this for you, then will come and put your mind back to keeping our mountain safe?”

Guilt itched beneath his fur. “My King i'm sorry—“

A affectionate rub of Wukongs head against his own shut the general up as the king tugged at his ear in play.

“Liu. I may not understand the power of what you are feeling,” Wukong cut off, tail thumping against the Marshals “but that doesn’t mean your feelings aren’t important. And … seeing you so distressed makes me distressed. I can help my friend in this simple task at least.”

Liu felt a warmth well from him. For all his Kings boasting and prideful proclamations, Wukong cared for each of his subjects - even in the face of his incomprehension. He would do what he could to ease his friends, his subjects, his families struggles. Wukong began to write as Liu began to speak, his face warm and his hands slowly beginning uncurl from his fur.

After just an hour with Wukongs transcribing and Liu describing, the confession was complete. Liu clutched the scroll and strapped it to his side.

He had been able to attend the Council with a lighter heart and a smile on his face. The discussion and the plans to increase patrols along the pine forest to the west of Flower Fruit Mountain had been unanimously agreed upon as the troubling information came to light.

The scouts' reports had indicated that there had been activity - a half made campfire kicked over and cold with bones from what looked like a small deer- not a few leaps and bounds from the slopes. Liu had frowned at the description of the tracks- five footed, fur and the scent of musk in the air. Another band of Monkeys … but they seem to be scouting us as well.

When Liu had this brought to attention, an immediate patrol had been sent out to gain more information on how many may be circling their home. The unspoken kept being danced around but all in that council chamber had a suspicion. Demon Monkeys….

Until they knew further who and what they were facing, Wukong wouldn’t risk a war troop to prowl the nearby hills and leave the rest of his family and people exposed.

Liu had a bit of time beneath the growing moon of night to find Rin Rin now. Before his nerves left him. Wukongs handwriting had made the words look better, flow better, feel better to the Marshals eyes. His King had sat through his flowery language, and had written it all diligently if with a little bit of snorting at times. (“Don’t compare her to pine nuts!” “But she smells of the pines and the wood and everything I love!” “…. But pine nuts ?”)

If his words failed him, Liu had them written down. If they stuck in his throat, he could pull them apart with the help of his letter. His heart was thumping, his fur was sticking out a bit as electric nerves rolled on his skin. Liu was in full armor having come from council, and it jangled softly in the night air. But it was a comforting jangle- a separate staccato rhythm against his body.

As the moon rose outside of Water-Curtain Cave casting the spray in silver light, Liu gazed out. Some other monkeys mingled in the cooling air enjoying the clear night. Tending to loved ones by either grooming fur, sharing ripening fruits from the many orchards across the vast mountain, or cuddling down in the soft grasses to gaze upward. Liu greeted each in turn, butting heads or brushing hands. Pride welled in him, making Liu stand taller. This was his home- his family. The peace they lived in was hard won and protected by their King and his Marshals- and that peace was precious.

A small bundle of babes shot past, one carrying a lychee fruit as a prize to be kept from the others. A pair of older simians gazed into the waters of the pool, leaning into each other. Liu would fight a thousand demons, all the celestial beings in the world, to keep this peace. He would tame dragons and pull the moon down from its boughs in Heaven to preserve this peace.

Liu turned, green eyes seeking. There, just beneath the pomegranate tree overlooking a mossy spray of water, he spotted the cloud gray of Rin Rin. Even in the shadow of the tree he could see her moon flower perched behind her ear, the fur perfectly groomed in wonderous swirls. He wished he had a bouquet of moonflowers to bring her or a cup of tea to present to her. He wanted to come bearing gifts and to tend and tidy her hair and weave flowers throughout it.

He came bearing his heart instead.

Said heart thumped against his chest. Steady Liu.

Liu took a moment to groom his finger through his fur, his tail, and to dust at his armor. He grabbed at a small patch of pine needles, snapping them between fingers and briefly rubbing the tips over his fur. He wanted to look his best to smell his best to be his best.

Then, gathering himself and tapping the scroll's top at his hip, Liu straightened and stepped forward.

He would tell her how much she meant to him. He would show her how much she was worth to him- between the words he had been able to wrangle and place onto a page.

Liu would never get the chance to unwind that scroll however. The night air that had been full of gentle chatter and warm conversation was broken by screams as the mountain's peace was shattered into a thousand screams of fury and fear rang off the mountain.

#hcwrites #writing stuff #I Hope you like it !#this was a bit more difficult because I kept looking at RinRin and Liu art of him giving her his cape flower #like. it kept melting my heart #very dialogue heavy #Marshal Liu is a boy with heart eyes for only one girl #rin rin #jttw au #jttw monkey king #for journey to the au #this one may not be my best only because I wanted to write more but I didn’t want to imped on what was already created #I Like filling in the blanks inbetween because it’s fun to make connections #drabble stuff #I may have made Liu a bit too obsessed with pine needles #had to pull down my big old Journey to the West book to see how many fruits and details they list for Flower fruit mountain #THEY HAVE A LOT OF FRUIT WTF I DONT REMEMBER IT FROM THE FIRST TIME READING #but again that was years ago #I’m reading a shorter version and then will be diving into that four book translation #this was fun to write because I was able to take from the book itself to give dimension to the mountain #I love adding dimension and culture to writing it jsut makes me want to go there and see and touch and feel and smell everything #if you need me to edit anything I can do it though! like if I didn’t get yer boy right I don’t mind fixing it !#hcfanfics

68 notes · View notes

jaybug-jabbers · 2 days

Text

Just some notes I am making for myself!!

Isopod Shopping List:

✔️ Glass aquarium/vivarium (ensure lid has fine mesh to keep out pests; a lid that's partially glass will make it easier to maintain humidity)

Humidity gauge/thermometer (55%+ R/H, 70-85 degrees F)

Bark 'hides' and (safe) decorative pieces; cork bark is common

Squirt bottle for misting

Substrate (common ones: topsoil, coco fiber, coco chips, sand, charcoal, small pieces of bark/wood, sphagnum moss; the moss helps retain moisture and thus is handy but don't use too much; ensure the soil used has no fertilizer beads or other 'extras' in it):

✔️ Topsoil/Potting Soil

✔️ Worm castings

-Fir Bark Chips

-Charcoal

-Sphagnum Moss

Dead leaves (primary food source; some people boil or bake them to sterilize but others don't; a variety of leaf types will work, but hardwood trees seem best; some commonly used ones include maple, oak, birch, elm, cottonwood, etc; thinner leaves and older, more 'rotten' leaves are tastiest to them, but be sure to inspect for mold or hitchhikers; provide plenty of leaves in a layer over the whole tank)

Additional dead organic matter can include seed pods such as magnolia pods, lichen, or other goodies

Nutrient-rich foods (secondary food source; a variety of things can be used including fish flakes, dried bloodworms, dried shrimp, small pieces of produce scraps, specialized products such as Repashy Morning Wood and Repashy Bug Burger, etc) to be provided in very small amounts that can be eaten quickly and any excess removed before it molds; experiment to see how long it takes for them to consume it and what they prefer to eat

Cuttlebone (broken up) may be provided if desired for extra calcium

Springtails may be added to help control mold and pests

Isopod Care Notes:

Some keepers have a 'damp' side and a 'drier' side to allow the isopods to regulate their own preferences; sphagnum moss works good for the damp side, and situate a vent by the dry side if possible

Heat should not be needed unless your room is especially cool

Most keepers prefer deep substrate for the isopods to burrow, but some prefer shallower substrate so they can keep track of their stock better (they use a compacted substrate layer and place a looser, shallower burrowing layer on top)

Substrate does not need to be changed often but every few months is a good idea to refresh its nutrients

Exact environmental preferences will depend on the species of isopod; while their needs are often very similar it's important to always double-check about your exact species

Isopods will reproduce readily (females carry the eggs in their bodies and will give 'birth' to live isopods) and the little babbies (mancae) start off very teeny so be careful when you're cleaning

Invert keepers have bred a TON of varieties of isopods, at differing 'difficulty' and price levels; make sure you are purchasing isopods that have been bred in captivity and not poached from the wild; and obviously never release pets into the wild

Some Beginner Isopods & Pretty Color Morphs:

Armadillidium nasatum (Nosy Pillbug): Peach, Orange, White Out/Pearl

Armadillidium vulgare (Roly-Poly): Orange Vigor, St. Lucia, Magic Potion ($$$)

Porcellio scaber (Rough Woodlouse): Dalmation, Orange Koi, Lava

Porcellio laevis (Swift Woodlouse): Dairy Cow

Cubaris murina (Little Sea Isopod): Anemone, Glacier

Questions for Sellers:

Opinions on enclosures, especially with regards to maintaining proper moisture and airflow

Opinions on where to safely collect leaf litter (esp this time of year), boiling to sterilize (potential nutrition loss)

Species

#isopod care #isopods

3 notes · View notes

misojunnie · 1 year

Text

PEACHES ─ xmh. ᜊ⋆ﾟ⊹

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟑 - 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐓

fresh peaches picked straight off the tree always reminded you of home, the summer breeze, the sticky frozen treats, and the blazing sun. they brought good memories, nostalgic places, but most importantly, they brought xu minghao.

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

genre: fluff, angst, college au, brother’s best friend!minghao x fem!reader

warnings: substance use, a sprinkle of family issues, disloyal past relationships, break ups, toxic relationships and cheating, 22 yr old reader / 24 yr old hao

featuring: minghao and svt! (ft. brother jun) + twice

word count: 26.2k

playlist: peaches by kai, chaser by woodz, habit by seventeen

status: in progress.

# taglist: @msxflower @enhacolor @hiqhkey @j-8star

# network tags: @ficscafe @kflixnet @k-radio

back to masterlist !

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

[more below the cut!]

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟑 - 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐓

𝐢. 𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐬

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

Ding dong. The sound of the ringing doorbell rang out through the apartment, and Dahyun roused herself from the couch with a pounding headache. It had been yet another night of drinking to drown the web of feelings confined within your mind, and after 9 bottles of soju between the three of you, she had the most raging hangover she’s ever experienced as she stumbled to the door. The insistent visitor rang the doorbell three more times before she finally opened up, eyes narrowed in annoyance.

“For christ’s sake- oh. Good morning.” Minghao waited at the door, hands buried deep in his pockets and a skeptical look in his eyes. He looked like a mess. Against his better judgment, he had stayed out a bit too late last night, and Vernon, once entirely inebriated, had been of no help to aid his conscience in his drunken state.

“It’s 1:00 in the afternoon. I don’t think that counts as the morning anymore.” He said with a hint of amusement in his tone. “Is y/n here?”

“No.” Dahyun shook her head without missing a beat. A moment of silence passed between the two of them before he raised a brow.

“You’re lying.”

“No I’m not.”

“Yes you are.” Dahyun crossed her arms.

“How do you know?” he sighed, removing his hands from his pockets and placing them on his hips instead, a look of vehement exasperation on his face.

“Because I can hear her snoring on the couch.” Dahyun unfolded her arms with a sigh, opening the door further to allow him inside, and he stepped inside with a victorious, albeit bittersweet, smile.

You were dead asleep, eyes shut and mouth barely parted as soft snores escaped her lips. He approached your side with a soft look in his eyes, brushing a few stray strands of hair from your eyes.

“C’mon, angel. Wake up.” he mumbled quietly, a hand grazing against your cheek. Dahyun made herself scarce. As enthusiastic as she was about your love life, she felt this was something that needed to be discussed in private without her interference.

You groaned, head throbbing as your vision cleared, your lids feeling like lead weight upon your eyes. For a moment you thought you must be dreaming; the angelic boy before you was supposed to be at home, crying his eyes out over a bottle of wine with your brother or drowning his sorrows in alcohol and seas of beautiful women. Not invading your best friend’s apartment while you were experiencing one hell of a hangover and looked like someone had dunked you in a bucket of makeup remover.

“Hao?” you grumbled, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you sat up.

Minghao’s eyes and lips were swollen with sleep and the remainder of his hangover. His red hair was tousled upon his head, and he was dressed in a muscle tee and sweatpants, looking as though he hadn’t slept a wink. He looked like hell, but it didn’t matter; he looked the most beautiful you’d ever seen him.

“Morning, sunshine.” he grinned. You didn’t answer. “Aw, don’t tell me you’re still mad at me.” You grumbled inaudibly, ruffling your knotty hair and wishing you had cleaned up a bit more before you passed out the night before.

“I’m not mad.” you said, very unconvincingly.

“I don’t believe that.” he mumbled, brushing your hair out of your face from where it was matted against your sweaty forehead. You were shining in the afternoon light, in your magnificent post-drunk glow. To some, you must’ve looked quite messy, but to him, you looked stunning. “I think you’re still upset.” You had an awfully hard time thinking when he was running his hand up and down your back and kneading your skin softly. Your head began to fog when he rested his hand on your lower back, tracing spirals along your exposed skin as he stared at you with clear, doe eyes.

Clearly your words hadn’t gotten through to him at all, and you weren’t sure whether you should be pleased or miffed that he had increased his affection tenfold.

“I’m not upset.” you cleared your throat, avoiding his eyes.

“Then will you go on a drive with me?” he suggested, and you balked.

Sure, you had been ready to finally confront your emotions, but being forced within a three foot proximity from the boy you may have feelings for and admitting it to his face was biting off more than you could chew. But you couldn’t refuse him anything when he looked at you like that, like he must just break if you denied him.

“Alright.” you caved, and he smiled softly, standing up and offering you his hand. You had to fight back a smile as you got to your feet, ignoring his hand and striding past him, not daring to look back and see the disappointed frown on his face.

If Minghao wasn’t serious about you, you didn’t want to give him ideas. You’re not his plaything and vice versa; being close doesn’t mean he can treat you like his girlfriend without the commitment.

You were determined not to be vulnerable anymore. You weren’t just Junhui’s little sister, you were a grown woman, and you could take care of yourself.

The car ride was tense, as expected. Minghao was awfully focused on driving to whatever destination he was looking for, and you weren’t sure whether it was your job to break the ice or not. You chose the comfort of silence, resting your chin upon your palm and looking out the window at the sight of the city streets melding into blocks of color in the rushing wind.

“We should talk.” Minghao finally said, turning a corner with a sharp spin of the driving wheel. City gave way to sea as he drove down a path to the beach, the paved road lining the soft, peachy sand. You watched with wonder at the stark contrast to where you were just moments before.

“Talk about what?” you avoided the topic shamelessly. After a breath of silence, Minghao sighed and tightened his grip on the wheel.

“Do you remember the first time you held my hand?” he asked.

“Why would I?” He didn’t seem wounded, just focusing on the drive silently.

“It was when you were in 6th grade.” he said without missing a beat. “It was your first day at middle school in Korea, and you were terrified. Junhui was sick and couldn’t walk you in, and you almost peed yourself at the front gate.”

“Thanks for the reminder.” you grumbled as he chuckled under his breath. You remembered. You would be lying if you said you didn’t.

“You saw me coming, and just ran at me. Clutched my hand like the world was ending. You didn’t give a shit that I was with my friends.” You crossed your arms and slumped a bit lower in your seat. “Vernon made fun of me all day.”

“My apologies for causing friction between you and your boyfriends.” you bit back, and he only laughed. “What’s with the sudden blast from the past?”

“I liked it.” he admitted, ignoring your inquiry. “I liked it when you held my hand. Even if we were only teenagers, I wouldn’t admit it to myself.” You softened considerably, tearing your eyes from the window to look at the boy sitting beside you.

“Yeah. I liked it too.” you said tenderly. You were sure he wouldn’t admit it if confronted, but you were certain you saw the corner of his mouth twitch upward.

“Just a week ago, you held my hand for the second time. And you know what?” he took his hand off the wheel for a moment to brush it over yours. “I think I liked it more than the first.” His eyes tore into you like knives, and while you desperately didn’t want to look at him, you couldn’t look away. “Y/n, I’ve liked you for a very, very long time. And I’ve never admitted it to anyone, not even to myself.” You were stunned into silence.

“...You liked me?”

“I told you, that night at the diner. I had a girl in my heart, one I couldn’t get rid of as much as I tried to forget her, one that consumed my mind and heart in its entirety and wouldn’t relinquish it. That was you, you know. It’s always been you.” Tears sprang in the corners of your eyes, and you rubbed them away with your sleeve.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you whispered, voice almost too weak to be heard.

“Jesus y/n, you’re my best friend’s little sister. I couldn’t do that to you. We never could’ve been together while you were under your brother’s care, and I didn’t want to make you hide. You deserved to go out and date, to have fun and find someone who would treat you right. Mingyu swept you off your feet in senior year.”

“Hao,” you almost laughed with incredulousness. “If I knew you would’ve given me the time of day, do you even think I’d have dated Mingyu in the first place?” He pulled the car into park, mere feet from the sand as his eyes scanned you, bemused.

“You loved him.”

“Of course I did. And I’ll love a million people in my lifetime, but that doesn’t mean that you’re not at the back of my mind, and that I don’t love you the most of all.”

His hands were on you before you could think, and the kiss contained the words you couldn’t say, the ones you had been bottling up for years, repressed and festering in your broken, wounded hearts. Minghao unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned over the console to get closer, one arm wrapping around your waist as his free hand gripped your hair. Tears were running down your faces, and you weren’t sure whether they were yours or his, the tears mingling on your faces and running down your jaws. The first time you kissed Minghao, everything happened too fast. You didn’t have time to think, your mind was clouded and you were angry. But now you had time, time to realize all the little things you loved about kissing him.

He tasted sweet, like the cherry chapstick he used and a hint of red wine. It was exhilarating, and you couldn’t get enough of it, your lips parting and sighing as he carded his hand through your hair, tugging you closer as he parted from you to quickly press a hot, open mouthed kiss to your jaw. His hands tightened its grip on your waist when you pulled him back in, throwing your arms around your neck and wishing there wasn’t a separator between him, wishing you had the energy to crawl into his lap and hold him flush to you until there wasn’t an inch of space between you.

The two of you parted, lips swollen and with a dreamy haze in your eyes, and even after you both moved away, he tugged you closer to him to pull you into another kiss, like he couldn’t keep his hands off you and his lips off yours. You were intoxicating, and he wanted to drink you in until he couldn’t anymore, he wanted to run his hands over you and feel your skin until you disappeared within his grasp. He was sick with love for you, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to get better just yet.

All you cared about was kissing each other, with none of the hesitance that was there the first time. It was rushed, messy, and glorious.

“I love you, Wen Y/n. I want to shout from every rooftop in the city until all of Seoul knows how much I love you.” You pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, your hand wandering down his damp cheek with a smile on your face.

“I love you too, Xu Minghao. More than you’ll ever know.”

Minghao wasn’t a man of many smiles. He often preferred a silent sort of stoicness; he typically used his smiles sparingly, they were few and far between. But when you told him you loved him, his mouth raised and his lips spread into the biggest smile you had ever seen on his precious face, one that hurt his cheeks and shone like the sun had gone out. And it was for you, and only for you.

He kissed your knuckles with a mischievous grin, hiding his simpering mouth under the skin of your hand.

“Your brother is going to kill me.”

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

𝐢𝐢. 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐬

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

You and Minghao had been sneaking around together for two weeks now.

Your relationship consisted of walks to campus together, late night drives, and kisses stolen while Junhui was distracted with whatever was on the tv. Junhui was suspicious at first of how eager Minghao was to come over whenever possible, but after a cheesy excuse about how important their friendship was, he softened up a bit.

But while the adrenaline rush you got from kissing your boyfriend in secret like the Juliet to his Romeo was exciting on occasion, you wanted a real relationship. You wanted him to parade you around and show you off, for him to scream to the world that you were his and he was insanely in love with you, and would lasso the moon and bring it down to Earth if you wanted.

Minghao would’ve happily retrieved the moon for you if you asked for it, but telling your brother that he wanted to be with you for the rest of his life seemed like a considerably harder task. In fact, he was beginning to prefer the moon option.

“You tell him.”

“No, you tell him.”

“You’re his goddamn sister, why do I have to do it?”

“Fuck you, Minghao. I’m not doing it. Grow some balls.”

“I have a very fine set of balls and they do absolutely nothing to aid me in eradicating the fear of your brother’s wrath.” you wrinkled your nose. The two of you had been arguing for a solid 5 minutes as Jun cooked in the kitchen and hummed peacefully, the both of you wondering who would approach him first to break the news of your blooming relationship. Safe to say, neither of you wanted to do it.

“You could absolutely beat him in a fight, I don’t know what you’re worried about. Also, I did not need to hear that much information about your balls.”

“You brought it up. And I don’t want to fight Junhui.”

“It’s for love, dickhead. Now go beat up my brother.” He glared at you, to which you petulantly stuck out your tongue. Witty repartee was a part of your relationship, cultivated over many years of love-fueled bickering.

“Who wants dinner?” Jun asked cheerily, revealing a freshly made tray of zhajiangmian piled up in a heap of sizzling noodles on a white platter. As delicious as the food looked, you had no appetite.

Your brother’s cooking was one thing that could always satiate you; it lifted your mood when you were sad and always left you feeling satisfied. He was an excellent cook, but eating sounded like the last thing you wanted to do, not when you were imagining all the possible outcomes to this conversation and your boyfriend was looking at you like you had just ran over his cat.

“...Me?” Minghao offered weakly when neither of you responded for an awkwardly long time. Junhui’s eyes were already narrowed in suspicion as he doled out a serving of the wheat noodles onto the younger boy’s plate.

The energy of the table was something unfamiliar to him. It no longer felt familial like it used to, it felt more like a candle lit dinner involving a perpetual third wheel, and he suddenly became aware of the close proximity between you and his best friend. He was almost certain that Minghao’s hand was on your thigh, but he waited to blow his top as he sensed there was an important topic of conversation wafting in the air.

“Is something wrong?” Junhui raised a brow. You shifted in your seat uncomfortably, giving him a furtive glance as you finally caved and decided you would tell Junhui the news yourself.

“We-”

“I’m desperately in love with your sister.” Minghao said with a straight face, words spilling out before you could even stop him. A moment of silence passed, strained and painful, the suspense driving you both insane. The tension snapped when Junhui left out a laugh, serving his own portion of the home-cooked food onto his own plate.

“Funny. You always bullshit me with that joke when you have something to hide.”

“I’m serious.” he insisted. Junhui gave him a scathing look.

“That’s not funny.”

“I’m not joking.” Minghao said without missing a beat, not an ounce of hesitance in his eyes. You had absolutely no clue what to do to resolve the situation, just quietly waiting for Junhui’s response, for him to finally blow up.

“...You’re serious?” Minghao placed his hand on top of yours, a firm resolve evident in his stony eyes.

“I’m serious.” It would’ve seemed to a passerby that the two were having a staring contest as Junhui looked blankly at his best friend, confused and unblinking. When he looked at you to find that you were looking firmly at the table, realization set in, and he gripped at the pair of chopsticks in his hand.

“Xu Minghao, you are lucky I don’t have a knife in my hand.” he said quietly. “Because if I did, I’d be gutting you from top to bottom and flipping you inside out like a pillow case.” The both of you gulped in response, the visual not at all pleasant. Then he stood up, fingers still tightly clamped on the pair of wooden sticks in his hand. “I suppose chopsticks will have to do.”

You barely were able to talk your brother down from gouging your boyfriend’s eyes out with a pair of dull chopsticks. After a few minutes of tussling and a particularly nasty shouting match, Minghao was being dragged into your brother’s bedroom by the back of his shirt like a stubborn child being put into time out, the door slammed shut behind them.

“I can’t believe you.”

“I know, and I’m sorry.”

“My sister? Really?” Junhui scoffed with disbelief. “You better be serious about her. Because if you’re just fucking around I swear-”

“I’m not. I’m serious as can be.” Minghao swore. “I love her with all my being, Jun. And I waited so long to be with her, I think my heart might burst if I spend another day without her.” Jun crossed his arms, staring at him piercingly.

“You’re not good enough for her.”

“Who’s better for her than me?” “Nobody is. Nobody is good enough for her.”

“I know, Jun, I know that she deserves the world. But I want to be good enough for her. I want to be better for her.” Minghao pleaded, hands clasped and shaking. “Please, Jun. You know I won’t break her heart.”

Junhui contemplated silently, his jaw set and his eyes narrowed at the boy before him. He might hate the thought of his best friend dating his sister, but he couldn’t deny his sincerity. Minghao would love you more than anyone you could ever be with, and Jun knew that better than anyone. He would never break your heart; he was likely the only boy who would treat it with the care it deserved.

The begrudging boy offered his hand, and Minghao accepted it eagerly, practically bouncing on the tip of his toes with excitement.

“Fine. You can date her. I know you’re the best for her.” Junhui grumbled reluctantly. “But if I ever hear you hurt her, I swear-”

“I would deserve the beating.” Minghao nodded with a grin, and Junhui gave him one last look before waving him off, a growing smile on his lips.

“I’ll do more than just beat you. Now go. I need some time.” The younger of the two beamed brighter than the sun itself, tripping over himself to open the door to the bedroom and rush back out to the dining room where you were waiting, anxious and your imagination simply running wild, driving you insane at guessing what your brother’s response would be. Your fingers strummed compulsively on the table, rapping on the wood until you looked up with a start when Minghao rushed into the room. You leapt to your feet, rushing into his arms and gripping his hands.

“What’d he say?” you pressed with fervent curiosity. Minghao didn’t give a verbal response, he simply broke out into a beaming grin that told you all you needed to know. You shrieked in delight, and he lifted you into his arms, twirling you in a circle thrice before releasing you back onto the ground. “I can’t believe it.”

“Let’s get out of here, angel.” he said excitedly.

“To where?”

“Anywhere we want. Japan, Hawaii, Bora Bora, we could go anywhere!” he yelled, arms spread wide in rapture and elation as you giggled. He gripped your hands, sparkles in his shining eyes. “Pack your bags! Let’s skip town!”

“Minghao, you know we can’t. We have class tomorrow.”

“Class? Who gives two shits about class!” he roared. You didn’t think you had ever seen him this riled up, not in all your many years of knowing him. “I’m in love with you! I’ve got no time to spare for class! Let’s go while the night is still young!” You stood stock still for a moment in rapid contemplation, before jumping in place and dashing off into your room to collect all the money you owned and a suitcase stuffed with items messily thrown into its cavernous compartments.

And that’s how you ended up going on vacation in the middle of the second semester.

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

Turns out that Bora Bora was unfortunately a bit too unreasonable for the bank account of two broke college students. You had $700.35 between the two of you, and even that was a stretch, considering a fourth of that was your funds to survive the rest of the month and your various bills. But the season was still warm and sunny, and Jeju Island was a perfectly affordable destination that did nicely for the two of you. You had a friend there who was more than willing to lend her guest house to you for a while, with the promise that you’d make this relationship really last, which she told you with a wink. And you were more than willing to do that.

Your honeymoon stage was still thriving and raging, and you spent a solid week and a half laying on the crystal beaches in strappy bikinis and losing yourself in the love between you and your boyfriend.

Mingyu never let you wear bikinis when you went to the beach. They were for his eyes only, and you hated that the gorgeous swimsuits were rotting uselessly in your closet. But when asked his opinion, Minghao said you looked insanely sexy, and he would be a madman if he didn’t want to show off his beautiful girlfriend. You swore you had never felt more like kissing him until he couldn’t breathe, which is what you did, tangled up on the powder soft sand with stupid smiles on your faces, kissing feverishly until a parent came up to complain about respect for public boundaries.

It was the most wonderful time in your life. You felt like you were on cloud nine, and a lightning bolt straight from God couldn’t take you down.

Of course, your brother was furious when he found out that Minghao had whisked you away to an island for over a week, and he thought you were dead until you sent him a two word text telling him you were alive and well, in less words. But he got over it after a few well placed phone calls consisting of how much you appreciated him as a brother.

You didn’t want it to end. You wished that you could spend eternity on that island, happy and basking under the sun of spring with Minghao at your side. You knew you were moving fast, but it felt much too slow altogether, and suddenly you were picturing a cottage by the sea with three kids, you tending to your peach trees while he painted, toes in the sand and the sunny rays kissing his skin.

But all good things come to an end, and after six sternly worded emails from your professor, you decided it might be a good decision to return to class before your teachers brought you into the attendance office.

“You two look absolutely ridiculous.” Minghao slurped the water from a fresh coconut, a neon green straw protruding from its top with a little cocktail umbrella dangling over the edge, shrugging the comment off nonchalantly. Vernon eyed you up and down, his arms crossed as he scanned you skeptically. “Why are you both wearing Hawaiian shirts?”

“Relax, baby. We’re matching.” he said, gesturing between the two of you and your matching gaudy Hawaiian shirts, yours an ugly shade of red and his an ugly shade of blue. Vernon looked at him with utter bewilderment.

“Are you on glue?”

“Island life.” you shrugged, a floppy beach hat perched on your head.

“Easy. You went to Jeju, not Maui.” Mina scoffed as she passed by, knocking on the back of your head with her fist, and you glared scathingly after her.

“Shhh, they’re in love.” Chaeyoung whispered as the older girl shook her head disapprovingly, but the smile on her face gave her away. You tugged Minghao as if to pull him away, and he ushered you onward, pulling Vernon aside for a moment.

“Vern,” he started, emotion swimming in his brown eyes. “Thanks for setting up that date. Oddly enough, I think it was exactly what we needed.” Vernon grinned.

“I expect your first born to be named after me.” he chuckled, slapping him on the back. “Now go be with your girlfriend.” Minghao nodded, turning on his heel.

His hand was tightly clutching yours, and you swung your arms back and forth like a seesaw, stupid lovesick grins on your faces that couldn’t possibly be held back. You looked like two fools in love, and you supposed you were.

You were idiots, but you were idiots together, and that was all that mattered.

“They look stupid.” Mina whispered fondly.

“Yes, but they look happy.” Vernon said with a ghost of a smile on his lips. “The few times I talked to Hao before this whole ordeal, he had a resting bitch face like I’d never seen, and he barely said two words to me. And those were usually ‘fuck off’.” The two girls laughed at the truth of his statement. It was undeniable, the two of you looked happier than they had ever seen you before.

“You think they’ll last?” Chaeyoung whispered under her breath, a worried expression on her pretty face. A moment of silence passed between the group before they all broke out in smiles.

“Yeah. I think they will.” Mina said, straightening up as she watched the two of you walk away, hands intertwined and still swaying like a swing on a playground creaking in the summer breeze.

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

𝐢𝐢𝐢. 𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

An earth-shaking knock practically rattled the window frames as a visitor pounded on your door, impatiently and insistently banging for a lengthy amount of time. Minghao grumbled from his place at the dining table, setting down his paintbrush to stand and face the querulous stranger at the door.

“Hello- Oh, for God’s sake.” he muttered. Vernon clutched a basket of fruit in his arms, as the door swung open to reveal a wide and dopey grin on his handsome face.

“I brought you a fruit basket.”

“Bribery, I’m assuming, to get my wife to cook you dinner?”

“Aw, c’mon Hao. I never get to see the kids anymore. You’re such a goddamn hermit.” the boy complained. His chestnut hair was now bleached into a lighter blond, his eyebrows slit on the edges and his face considerably more mature than years before.

“Language.” Minghao reprimanded, and Vernon pushed his way past the obstinate man and set the basket of fruit on the coffee table. “Vernon, this is my home!”

“Oh for Christ’s sake, give it a rest, Minghao.” you called, laughing in amusement at Minghao’s distress as you rushed into the room with your arms spread out in an embrace. “Vernon, give me a hug before I tackle you.”

“As you wish, m’lady.” he said playfully, pulling you into his arms and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “How’s it possible that you look younger every time I come over?”

“You flatter me.” you laughed again, slapping him on the arm before running back to the kitchen. “Hao, can you set the table for me?” He approached you gently, wrapping his arm around your waist from the back and pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Anything for you, love.” While Minghao rushed off to distribute plates amongst the hungry diners, two children came running into the room, one clutching a doll and the other holding a book tightly, little fingers gripping at its pages.

Vernon hummed, ruffling the hair of the oldest, the boy, “What’s up, Vernon Jr.”

“That’s not my name.” he said with a disgruntled look.

“Shoulda been.” he said, dropping onto the carpet, giving a pointed look at Minghao, who ignored him, hunched over his half painted canvas. He turned his attention to the second child, who was fully immersed in her book. “What book are you reading, kiddo?” The little girl looked up at him with a blank look, similar to one of a scholar looking down on their intellectual inferior.

“Great Expectations.” Vernon snorted, jabbing a thumb.

“She takes after you, Hao.”

“Shut up, Vernon.” he said with a careful stroke of his paintbrush.

A banging sound came from the back of the house as the door to the nursery flew open, a frazzled boy in his early thirties striding across the room with a sleeping baby in his arms, his hair mussed and a wild look in his eyes.

“Y/n, I don’t think I was cut out to be an uncle.” Junhui sighed, setting the baby down gently in their cradle before noticing the presence of the blond in his company. “Vernon? God, I haven’t seen you in forever!” The two greeted each other with a friendly hug, laughing in the revelry of two friends finally seeing each other after years apart.

“I heard you’ve been busy with your acting gig. Our very own Jun.” Vernon complimented, and Junhui beamed with pride.

“Yeah, it's been going well! Can’t complain.” He shrugged, taking a seat at the dinner table, the younger boy joining him in the seat beside him. Your oldest boy leaped into Vernon’s lap, and he petted the top of his hair while he listened to your brother make casual conversation, Minghao chiming in every once in a while to drop a witty one-liner or some well placed praise.

“Dinner is served.” you finally said, sliding steaming trays of food onto the table, adorning the wood with platters like a feast; peking duck, cucumber salad, dumplings of all kinds, and a pile of black bean noodles that made every mouth water in anticipation.

“Thank you, y/n.” the table chorused gratefully, the youngest guests replacing your name with mom instead. Minghao ran a hand up and down your arm, leaning close to press a sweet, lingering kiss to your jaw.

“Thank you, angel.” he whispered. It was funny that after so many years together, that nickname still gave you butterflies like the first time he used it. You pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek as your family began to dig in, happily serving food for each other and sharing plates, fighting for the best pieces of duck, your children kissing up to their father to get more noodles.

As your husband bickered with your brother over the juiciest slice of peking duck, and Minghao desperately tried not to transfer paint onto your favorite dishes, you couldn’t help but feel like you were falling more in love with life with every day that went by. You had never believed that one day you would be waking up in the same bed as the love of your life, the man who snored in his sleep and always denied it, who would wake up in the morning and let you kiss him endlessly no matter how bad your breath smelled. The man you were desperately in love with, who was desperately in love with you. But it was no longer a dream; it was a reality. Your reality, and you wouldn’t change a single thing about it.

Dinner ended, Junhui collapsed in bed the minute the clock struck 9, Vernon needed to return to his girlfriend and the children grew fussy and went to bed. The house grew quiet and serene, drenched in moonlight as the sounds of the sea soothed you into silence. When Minghao sat on the couch, his arms open and waiting to hold you, you brought out the last dish of the night with a delighted grin. Two glasses of red wine and a fresh peach, cut straight from the tree outside.

Those peaches, oddly enough, always bloomed in spring.

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

A/N: thank you for reading loves! I hope you enjoyed peaches, and I certainly enjoyed writing it. let me know what you thought, and what you want to see next!

42 notes · View notes