#Tansy Moment | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ranhaitanisgf · 11 months ago

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🤺back🤺🤺🤺back i say🤺🤺 it’s my turn to request something for hana’s event🤺

may i please request a scenario with baji + flower shop in which he goes to buy his mom flowers as an apology but doesn’t know what to get, so he just picks out random flowers that actually mean everything except “i’m sorry” so you help him out?

by the way, you don’t have to write this part, but i just thought it would be cute if he develops a crush on you and you see him at a different flower shop buying a small bouquet and you think he’s betraying you, but later he shows up at your shop, awkward and stiff, with that same bouquet to ask you out because his mom said that’s the proper way to do it. just wanted to share that little add-on with you!!

— baji keisuke // flower shop // love at first sight

☆ ˎˊ˗ heyyy ... arba idk if ur still active IM SRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG i disappeared D: we miss u come back ... also this idea was sooo cuteeee arghjhghjghjhg i actually went soo overboard w this but it was too good!!

☆ ˎˊ˗ fem!reader implied

☆ ˎˊ˗ wc ; 2.2k+

masterlist || 2k masterlist

you’d had your eye on him since he’d walked into the store.��

it wasn’t for any particular reason aside from the fact that he seemed to be feeling wholly out of place, which made you giggle a bit as he shuffled around, muttering and grumbling to himself as he awkwardly looked at different bouquet arrangements.

he definitely didn’t seem like the type to be buying flowers either; his long dark hair and overall brusque demeanor didn’t exactly give you the impression that he was someone who would go around buying flowers, (and was that him that pulled up on a literal motorcycle?! he seemed like he was around your age!!).

under normal circumstances you would have gone up to assist, but you decided to sit back and see how this boy was going to play this one out, (he was really cute, but if a cute boy like him was in a flower shop, he was undoubtedly buying flowers for his girlfriend). it was quite the entertaining spectacle to see him walking around, his eyebrows pinched together as he tried to find something that he found suitable. at one point, he even seemed to phone someone for help, though he hung up rather quickly after yelling that he definitely was not buying flowers!!

after minutes and minutes of walking around, he finally picked up two bouquets of flowers; geraniums and tansies. you had to restrain your laughter as he walked up to the register, damn near shaking to keep yourself from bursting out into giggles.

“d-did you find everything, pff--ahem! did you find everything alright today?” you had let your giggles slip through on accident, and even though you tried to cover it up with a cough, you could tell that it failed immensely from the ticked off look on the boy’s face.

“you’ve got a lot of nerve to be laughin’ at me-” he started, the deep tone of his voice taking you off guard.

“n-no! i’m not really laughing at you per se…well, kind of.” you tried to explain. “see, okay, do you know what flower language is?” the boy quirked an eyebrow at this, giving you the sort of look that says go on. “well, it gives flowers different meanings, y’know? so unless you’re trying to pick a fight, i really wouldn’t suggest using these flowers.”

“...what do they mean?”

“geraniums and tansy flowers together…you would be calling the person stupid and then be declaring war on them.” the boy’s amber eyes widened, his lips pressing together in a thin line as his brows furrowed together once more. “if you’d like, i can suggest flowers with a more…caring meaning for your girlfriend.” the boy’s eyebrows shot up at your words, making you wonder if you’d said something wrong.

“girlfriend? these’re for my mom.”

“oh! sorry, i just assumed-ah, never mind. now, let me see…” you stood up from your seat, gathering the flowers in front of you in your arms and coming out from behind the counter. after you put the flowers back, you looked around for a moment, a few ideas floating through your mind.

“hmm, why are you getting her flowers?”

“...’cause…” he mumbled a bit, making you lean in a bit.

“what was that?”

“‘c-cause! i made her cry…” despite the fact that his voice had raised a little bit, all you could sense from him was embarrassment and shame, especially from the look on his face, (he almost looked like a kicked puppy). the sight made you smile softly; it wasn’t often that you got genuine customers like this, so you were going to make it your mission to help him.

“alright, give me one moment…” your eyes flicked throughout the store, taking a few moments to weigh different options before making a decision. you ended up grabbing three bouquets; white tulips, daffodils, and some small filler greenery with bits of baby’s breath.

you walked back behind the counter, setting the bouquets down in front of you. the black-haird boy had followed you aimlessly around the store, eventually ending up back in front of the register. there was a kind of quiet curiosity in his eyes as he watched your practiced movements, (truthfully, you weren’t used to someone watching you do bouquet arrangements with such an intent stare).

“i’m doing this for you right now because i want to help you, but for future reference, you usually have to call ahead a day or two for this.” a smile played on your lips as you unwrapped the flowers in front of you, glancing up a bit to look at the boy.

it was only for a moment, but his amber gaze staring right at you caught you off guard, making your heart skip a beat. you immediately looked back down, busying your hands and trimming the leaves off of the flowers. the rest of your work was done in silence; trimming the end of the flower stems, arranging them in a way that looks pleasing, opening some of the flowers to match the rest. it was relaxing work, so much so that you almost forgot about the boy in front of you.

almost.

the whole time you were working you could feel his gaze on you, looking up a few times just to look back down immediately. you felt a little bit anxious throughout the process, hoping that he would deem your work acceptable enough for his mom, (your anxiousness was also from the fact that a very cute boy was watching you, but that was aside from the point).

you finished the final step, delicately wrapping the flowers in a thick brown paper and securing them in place with the tie of a thick ribbon.

“there, all set! what do you think?” you asked cheerily, admiring the flowers you had put together. in your mind, you thought it looked pretty good, but it wasn’t your opinion that mattered here.

“yeah…they look good.”

“yay! i’m glad you like them!” you handed the bouquet over to him, a rush of happiness flooding through you at his approving words. “i hope you’ll come again!”

“wait, how much was this?” he started to pat around his pockets for his wallet, but you shook your head.

“don’t worry about it, it’s on me! just make sure to come back if you need more flowers, though i hope it’ll be for a better reason!”

“i will…” he stared at you for a moment, a questioning look in his eyes. “hey, if you keep looking at me like that i’m going to take it back, so go apologize to your mom!” you ushered, waving bye to him.

“thanks.” if you weren’t looking closely, you probably would have missed the small smile on his face before he left.

˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗

“isn’t that…” you squinted a bit, walking a few steps closer to get a better view. sure enough, there he was! the same black-haired amber eyed boy who you had helped last week, in another flower shop!!

“oh my god, that total traitor!!” you huffed. “i told him to come back if he needed more flowers…” you watched as he got handed a bouquet of flowers, shaking your head in disdain. when you saw him head for the exit, you immediately panicked, scrambling away from the scene and jogging the whole way back to your shop.

despite the fact that you had only seen him once, you still felt a bit of disappointment at the fact that he had gone to another flower shop, even when he’d said he would come back. maybe you scared him off?

i didn’t even say anything weird though…

your thoughts kept you quite occupied while you were preparing the shop for open, though they were a bit burdensome when you happened to prick yourself on some roses, too distracted to be paying attention to the thorns properly.

after some of the bouquet orders for the day, you flipped the sign on the door to ‘open’. you were about to go back to sulking behind the counter, but a glimpse of black hair outside caught your eye.

looking closer, you realized that it was the same boy! he was seated on his motorcycle, chatting his a blonde haired boy who you assumed was his friend.

maybe he had realized that the flowers from your shop were better!

however, your gaze narrowed when you realized that he was holding the same bouquet you had seen him with earlier, making your mood sour immediately.

was he coming here to rub it in your face or something?!

while you were busy glaring, you started to notice that his blonde haired friend was gesturing and pointing wildly towards your shop, seeming to be shouting at the black haired boy about something. while you were still a little bit sour, you began to be intrigued by what was going on, contemplating going out there to see what all the commotion was about.

the thought immediately perished as you made eye contact with the blonde, who could clearly see you staring at them through the windows of your shop. the two of you stared at each for a moment before you darted away from the glass, rushing back to behind the counter as you prayed that he didn’t actually see you, (he definitely did).

“well, whatever! i helped him out and he went to another flower shop--so what!!” you muttered to yourself, throwing your hands up. “that’s the last time i ever do a nice thing for someone!!” you grumbled, preparing the flowers for the rest of the bouquet orders you had to do.

it was a practiced routine at this point, so you were able to arrange the flowers properly without putting much thought into it, using it as busywork to take your mind off of things. you weren’t sure why you were so upset about the fact that this boy went to another flower shop, but it certainly wouldn’t help you to let it get in the way of things.

hearing the bell to the door chime, you chirped out a ‘welcome in!’ as you continued trimming and arranging flowers, being careful this time to mind the thorns so that you didn’t get pricked a second time.

“uh, hey.” the deep tone of voice immediately made you look up, feeling as if you would have snapped your neck if you looked up any faster. you shook off your nervousness, (and excitement) going back to what you were doing as you tried to look casual.

“well, you’re back. whatever you want isn’t going to be on me this time because you betrayed me.” you said cooly, a bit of a frown on your lips.

“betrayed--what? uh, anyways, i just wanted to give you these…” he cleared his throat, holding out a bouquet to you. when you finally looked up and took a good look, you noticed that the tips of his ears were red, (should you be having hope right now…? no, stop it! get a hold of yourself!). “and, uh, i got them with that flower language thing…”

“what…?” you leaned forward across the counter, inspecting the flowers in the bouquet a bit closer. “calla lilies and white camellia’s…” looking up at the boy’s embarrassed and somewhat flustered expression, you paired it with the meaning of the flowers, and…

ah…

immediately, you felt your heartbeat speed up and felt the apples of your cheeks heating up, leaning back and looking away. you fiddled with your fingers for a moment as you tried to think of something--anything, really--to say.

“i…uh…how, um, how did you come up with this…?”

“my mom said it was a good idea…” he shifted a bit, his arm still holding out the bouquet of flowers. “if you don’t want them, i can jus’ take them back-”

“no!” you grabbed the bouquet from him, smiling a bit too much, (you couldn’t help yourself though). “you’re giving them to me, so they’re mine now, right? you can’t take back a gift! and-and just hold on for a second!” you left without another moment to spare, running into the back and scrambling for a piece of paper. you picked up a nearby pen, quickly jotting down your name and number and then running back out, a big smile across your face.

“here!” the boy in front of you grabbed the slip of paper, his amber eyes examining it before he smirked a bit, showing off the sharp bits of his canines.

“(y/n), is that right?”

“yes! what’s your name?”

“baji. baji keisuke.”

˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗

bonus:

“baji-san! how did it go!?”

“i need a yakisoba right now, chifuyu…” baji grumbled, sitting on his bike and leaning back.

“did you get rejected?!” chifuyu asked, a look of grave anticipation on his face.

“no!! she thought i betrayed her flower shop because i went to another flower shop! your idea was shit!” chifuyu’s face went pale at that, his mouth hanging wide open.

“i didn’t think about that…”

“yeah, this is the last time i take advice from whatever weird manga shit you got this from.”

“...”

“i mean, she said yes, right? a win is a win!”

“...shaddup.”

(chifuyu proceeded to pay for the yakisoba outings for the next six months.)

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forever-rogue · 2 years ago

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Soon

AN | Here is one of the many ideas that I’ve had for Cal! Or - Cal Kestis visits you and holds the promise of a future together…finally 🥺 This contains no major spoilers for Survivor!

Warnings | None

Pairing | Cal Kestis x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 3k

Masterlist | SW Characters, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You knew it was him from the moment you noticed the figure in the distance coming closer. There was a trademark swagger to his walk and his lithe silhouette gave him away every time. No matter how much you tried to suppress the excitement in your chest, it never seemed to work. Not when it came to him.

"Hello Cal Kestis," he stopped right in front of you, a roguish smile on his face. His hair was longer now, and he hadn't shaved in a bit and…he was sporting a black eye, a busted lip, and cuts all over his face. A sigh escaped your lips softly, "Cal."

"It's okay," he insisted softly, his hand instinctively went to your face as he brushed his knuckles across your cheek, "you should see the other guy."

"Cal."

"I know," he knew. Knew that nothing else but him mattered to you, "its nothing."

"You're going to give your daughter nightmares if she sees you like this," you leaned into his touch, "let me take care of you."

"I didn't come here for that," he whispered softly, a sheepish expression on his face. Despite everything he went through, he always managed to keep his boyish charm.

"I know," you promised, "but I also happen to be fond of you. Come on - she's still at daycare."

You reached for his hand and pulled him into the small house, mind already buzzing with the multitude of questions you had for him. It had been a while since you'd last seen him. Over a year.

You set him down on the edge of the tub in the 'fresher as you glanced through medical supplies you had. You'd kept way more on hand since you'd met him a few years ago. They came in handy.

"Do I want to know what happened?" You gently dabbed at his lip, wiping away the dried blood before tending to the scratches on his cheek.

"Probably not," he admitted softly, earning a quick nod from you. You grabbed some bacta gel and spread it around the dark bruising around his eye, "the last job didn't go so well."

You paused at the mention of his job. You knew what he did, more or less, but he never really went into details. For your sake and his.

"I'm glad you're okay," you looked up at him with wide eyes and he nodded softly, "please be careful."

"I am…" he caught your eye for a moment, watching as you raised your brows at him, "I will be."

"Promise me, Cal Kestis," you kneeled down so you were almost eye to eye with him, having to look up slightly, "please."

"I swear,” and he meant it. For himself, for you, and the daughter you shared.

You looked at him for a long moment. He'd become more hardened since you'd met him. But the boy you'd fallen in love with was still underneath it all. He didn't even know you loved him - at least you didn’t think he did. And you were almost positive that he didn’t feel that way about you.

You’d met by chance, became friends, and after a drunken one-night hookup ending up sharing a daughter. But that didn’t mean you didn’t love him; you did and you just wanted him safe and sound.

“Okay,” you leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek before standing back up. He followed suit and you noticed the flush of pink on his face. You tried to ignore the butterflies as you trailed your fingers along his scruffy jaw, “this is new.”

“You hate it,” he teased, smiling at you in the crooked way that you adored.

“I like it actually,” you smirked at him, “suits you. Now c’mon, let’s grab some lunch and then we can get Tansy. And you can tell me all about your adventures.”

“Sounds good,” he agreed softly, “missed you both.”

Your heart skipped a few beats before you made a small sound in response. He was really making this whole only friends thing way too hard.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Tell me then,” you watched your favorite ginger jedi from across the table, relaxed at being in his presence again. You were sure that he could feel it, “what has been keeping you so occupied lately?”

“I…” he paused for a moment, looking around surreptitiously before leaning closer to you. You mirrored his action and motioned for him to go on, “I know I should have been back sooner.”

“Cal…”

“It’s not fair to Tansy for me to be gone so long,” he sighed lightly and you gave his hand a small squeeze, “or you-”

“Well, we didn’t exactly plan on…you know. Having a kid,” it definitely hadn’t been part of any plan you’d ever had. But still, he handled it beautifully and did his best to take care of both of you in his own way. After your daughter had been born, you’d been tempted to ask him to stay, to try and be a proper family, but you knew that wasn’t in his cards. You’d always known that - there was no way you’d keep Cal Kestis from fulfilling his destiny.

“No,” you might have been right, but he wouldn’t have changed a thing, “listen, I know this is going to sound crazy, and it probably is, but I think I…something’s happened.”

“Crazy? From you, jedi?” you whispered the last part, and brought a smile to his face, “tell me.”

“I went to Koboh to look for Greez for help with the Mantis after…a job on Coruscant that went wrong,” your heart constricted at the mere thought of something happening to him, “one thing led to another but basically we found out about this planet called Tanalorr.”

“Tanalorr. I’ve never heard of that…”

“Almost no one has,” his eyes practically glittered with excitement, “a jedi master found it hundreds of years ago and tried to…hide it basically. Keep it safe and untouched. If we find it, and assuming all of it’s true, it could be a place untouched by the Empire, and raiders, and anyone else. It could be a new home…we could be safe there.”

Your brow furrowed as you tried to process everything that he was saying. It all sounded so good and wonderful and the idea that there was a safe place somewhere in the galaxy made your heart yearn for the future. A future you could maybe share with Cal and your daughter as a family.

“Cal,” you sighed softly and noticed the way his face fell, “that sounds…amazing - truly. I know the jedi were - are - capable of amazing things. But this…it sounds like a tale told to keep children entertained.”

“It’s real,” he insisted, “I know it is. I’ve seen proof. I know it’s out there..I-I just have to find it. Then we could-”

“Wait, Cal, stop for a moment,” your face was a mask of worry despite your ebay efforts to keep it neutral, “you’re not seriously thinking about this, are you? This is crazy-”

“It’s a risk that could be worth everything,” he took your hand in both of his hands and held onto it tightly, “we wouldn’t have to worry about anything. We’d be safe.”

“If you don’t die trying to get there,” you whispered, “or what if you get there and it’s something completely different? I don’t…I can’t lose you, Cal.”

“There’s risk involved with everything - even you being here,” he closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, “but it’s a risk I have to take. I promise-”

“She’s like you,” you blurted out and caused Cal’s eyes to snap open and watch you closely. You pulled your hand away and swallowed the lump that had welled up in your throat, “Tansy…I think she’s like you. Sensitive.”

Oh. Oh. He knew, he’d always know that there was a high likelihood that his daughter would end up like him. Force sensitive. Back before the end of the Order, she would have likely already have been on her way to Jedi Temple on Coruscant. But now all it did was serve to put a giant target on her. A rush of pride and excitement flowed through him - along with a bundle of nerves settling into his stomach.

“How do you…know?”

“I’ve noticed her doing some things that a normal kid definitely couldn’t do,” you whispered, “you’ll have to tell me for me but…I think I’m right. Cal…this is really exciting but-”

“I’m scared,” he finished for you and you nodded lightly, “I will never do anything to put either of you in danger. I’ll keep you, both of you safe. I promise.”

“But how can I keep you safe?” your voice cracked slightly as you looked at him with concern. His expression was soft as you turned your head and wiped away the tears that had rolled down your cheeks, “Cal, I l-”

“Daddy!”

Tansy tore away from her babysitter, breaking into as much of a run as was possible for her little legs. You shook your head fondly before giving an apologetic expression to the twi'lek that cared for her.

"Tan Tan!" Cal dropped to a crouch so he could scoop her into his arms, embracing her tightly. The resemblance between the two of them was uncanny; she'd inherited his red hair and green eyes and already had his sense of adventure. The two of them were nothing but trouble together already, "I've missed you so much."

"Missed you too," despite the fact that he wasn't around all the time - he tried as best as he could to be there for her - you were happy that they shared such a close bond. She adored him as he did her, "are you staying?"

"Yes," he promised, peppering her chubby cheeks with kisses, "if that's okay with Mommy."

You caught for a moment, trying to hide the exasperated look on your face. Of course you wanted him to stay, but you also weren't finished with your previous conversation, "yes, of course. You're always welcome, Cal."

"Yay," Tansy wrapped her little arms around his neck and clung onto him like a koala, "I can show you my new toys!"

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"I think she's finally asleep," Cal quietly padded out of Tansy's room and made his way back over to you. You were in the living room, nursing a mug of tea and absentmindedly reading a holobook. He sat down next to you, tense for a moment as he anticipated your reaction, "she's got so much energy."

"She takes after you in so many ways," you put the book and turned to him with a soft smile. Cal mirrored it before, reaching over and gently tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. He’d been with you for a couple of weeks now, and you yearned for him to stay and make this your everyday reality. It would have been so easy…

"What are you thinking about?" His voice was barely above a whisper. One of the things you loved - and sometimes hated - about him was that he'd always been able to read you so easily.

"I wish you were here more often," you hated how small and pathetic your voice sounded as you shrugged your shoulders lightly, "not for my sake but hers. But it'd be nice knowing you are safe too."

The jedi paused for a long moment, the air thick with so many unsaid things. He allowed himself to catch a glimpse of your expression before sitting back and exhaling softly, "I love you, you know."

"Cal, you don't just have to say-"

"I'm not," he insisted firmly and your eyes widened in surprise, "you know I'd never lie to you or say anything I didn't mean. And I'm not just saying it because of Tansy. I mean it - I've always meant it."

"Oh. Oh," maker. Cal just said what you had wanted to say for so long but couldn't bring yourself to admit. Which meant he felt the same. He felt the same way. But there was still a put in your stomach, "why did you leave?"

He paused, his lips pulling into a thin line, "you knew I couldn't stay. Especially after you got pregnant. It wasn't safe for me to be here all the time. I just wanted you both safe."

"I know," and you had. Cal did everything with purpose…he wasn't the kind of man to anything without some consideration, "I know. But I still wish you were here more. And I feel so selfish for even thinking that."

"It's not selfish," he whispered, brushing his knuckles across your cheek, "I wish you were with me too. I think about every day, you know."

You managed a small, teary eyed little smile. He reached into the collar of his shirt and pulled out the chain that was nestled safely against his chest. A small gasp escaped your lips when you realized it was your necklace. The very same one you'd given him the first time he'd left you a few months after the two of you had met. You'd found out you were pregnant a few weeks later.

"You still have it," you traced your finger along the soft golden chain, causing his heart to skip a few beats from your tender touch, "after all this time."

"I've never taken it off," he put his hand on top of yours and lightly squeezed it, "sometimes I feel like this is the only thing that's kept me alive."

"I love you," your declaration was so quiet that Cal almost wasn't sure if he'd heard you correctly. Judging from the nervous look on your face, he was pretty sure you'd said that. You bit the inside of your cheek for a moment, "I just wanted you to know too."

"C'mere," his hands found your face and you had to work to keep a wistful sigh from escaping. You leaned in and before you could even think about it, he was kissing you. Softly and gently, but with everything he had to give. You didn't pull away from him until you were dizzied and breathless. He pressed his forehead against yours, smiling softly, "one day, I'll get to do this every day."

"Every day?"

"Yes," it was a promise, resolute and firm, "I just need a little more time. I want to follow this lead and find Tanalorr."

"Cal-"

"I'll be careful," the reassurance didn't ease your worry, "if it's safe and actually is what it'd supposed to be, I'll come for both of you and we can make a new home."

"And if it's not?"

"I'll find us somewhere safe," he trailed his fingers softly along your jaw, "I promise."

"Okay," you didn't want to agree but you also knew there was no way to talk Cal out of something when he was set in his ways. You fisted the front of his shirt in your hand and blink away the fresh tears, "promise me one more thing?"

"Anything," he brushed your tears away and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"Come back to us," his eyes softened as you silently pleaded for him, the force, the universe or whatever was out there, go make it come true, "please come back to us safely. I can't…I don't want anything to happen to you."

"I'll always come back to you," in your heart you knew he meant it, "and Tansy. I just need a little bit of time."

"Okay," you exhaled shakily, "okay. When were you thinking about leaving?"

"Now - tonight," that was enough to crush your spirit, "the sooner I'm gone, the sooner I'm back. And I…I think it might be easier if I'm gone tonight rather than leaving when she's awake."

"I hate that you're right," you huffed with laughter, but there was no amusement behind the sound, "come back soon?"

"As soon as I can," he wrapped you up in a tight hug, pulling as tightly against his chest as possible. You hugged him back just as fiercely, wishing you'd never have to let him go. He kissed the side of your head as you buried your face in his chest, "soon."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"This is always the worst part," you stood on your doorstep in the middle of the night, bidding your goodbyes to Cal. Again. At least this time you knew it wouldn't be too long, "watching you go."

"Yeah," he cast a forlorn look towards the window of his daughter's room. His heart ached already, "its hard for me too. But this is the last time we'll have to be apart."

"Swear on it, Cal Kestis," you held out your pinkie and he couldn't help the laugh that reached your ears. He hooked his pinkie around yours and squeezed lightly, "or I'll find you and make you regret it."

"Swear," he brought your hand to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to your palm, "I wouldn't put anything past you."

"Good," your heart fluttered at his kiss and you leaned in and pressed another to his lips, "see you soon."

"Soon," he agreed, kissing you a few more times, "I love you."

"I love you, Cal Kestis," you touched his cheek before whispering, "may the force be with you."

"And with you," he took one last look at you before taking a step back, "oh - you were right, you know. About Tansy."

"Oh," you looked at him with a wondrous expression, "oh?"

"We'll talk about it next time," he offered you a cheeky wink as you beamed at him, "just be happy with the knowledge that you were right."

"Like always," you held up a hand in a small, sad little wave, "goodbye, Cal."

"Not goodbye - see you soon, sweetheart."

#cal kestis #cal kestis x you #cal kestis x reader #cal kestis x fem!reader #cal kestis imagine #cal kestis one shot #cameron monaghan #jedi: fallen order #jedi: survivor #star wars

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kimiko24-art · 4 months ago

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JoJo just had a new collab with NEW ERA with both hats and fragrances, so here's Bucciarati's fragrance ~~~ love the way they describe the fragrance notes and how it goes so well with his character ;; ahhh gjvhjbhjv💕💞❤️

----

Top Note It begins with a scent that symbolizes his calm and intelligent nature. The soft fragrances of almond and tea represent his gentle and composed personality, while the freshness of bergamot and yuzu reflect Bucciarati’s quick judgment and sharp intellect. The subtle scent of geranium symbolizes his approachability and the trust people have in him, reminding us of his beloved everyday life before meeting Giorno.

Middle Note This expresses Bucciarati’s inner strength and determination. The strong scents of blue tansy and cypress symbolize his resolve and unwavering beliefs in the face of adversity. This reflects the moment he shows courage in his fight with Giorno and decides to wage a life-or-death battle against drugs, driven by a strong hatred for them. The middle notes convey his leadership and strong will to protect his companions.

Last Note The warm scent of amber symbolizes Bucciarati’s deep sense of responsibility and affection for his subordinates, while white musk emphasizes his pure heart and true leadership. The woody scent of hinoki reflects his strong will and indomitable spirit, evoking his determination to overthrow the boss and take over the organization. The last notes symbolize Bucciarati’s resolve to carve out a new future and the end of his life-risking battle.

Inspired by his reliable and trustworthy character, the fragrance aims to be balanced and easy to use. The gentle last notes evoke the ending of his story.

I NEED THISSS!! PLEASE❤️💞

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sweatervest-obsessed · 1 year ago

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Salvia Splendens Means Forever Mine - Part Four

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

WC: 2.5k

TW: kissing, pg-13 thoughts, pg-18 thoughts, talk of sex, mentions of death, trauma of death, lots of flowers, mentions of violence, basically anything mentioned in the last chapter is a tw here

A/N: God thank you all for being so fucking patient with me. I really appreciate you all!! I hope you enjoy!!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Spencer’s lips were on your shoulder as he tightened his grip on you. His arm was wrapped securely around your waist, your back against his chest. You grumbled something unintelligible, but Spencer just hummed in response, kissing your bare shoulder again.

“What are we going to do with you Doctor Spencer Reid.”

He laughed quietly, his voice still gravely since he also just woke up.

Mornings with Spencer always went like this. The two of you had been living together for over a month now, and you couldn’t be happier. Waking up next to the love of your life had major benefits.

The first was morning sex. Waking up to Spencer kissing your neck, and your chest, and lips. Lazily breathing together, moving with one another. Feeling as his chest rose and fell while you riled him up and teased him endlessly. It was incredible. People seemed to notice your mood change when you showed up to work too, which definitely had its own set of perks. It was basically the best way to wake up, in your opinion.

Then, there was the fact that you got to wake up and enjoy how gorgeous he was, how beautiful his eyes were. Watching as he finally was able to relax, stress free putty in your hands, melting as you played with his hair and whispered about nothing and everything to him.

But the best part about waking up next to Spence, was that you got to start your days with him, knowing you’d get to come back home after work, sleep beside him, and wake up next to him all over again. It felt surreal at times.

“What’s going on in that head of yours? I can hear the gears turning.” Spence muttered, kissing your shoulder this time.

Your body rolled in his arms, causing you to face him, kissing his cheek softly. “How much I love you.”

You felt Spencer freeze for a moment, and you looked up to find his eyes on you.

“You…”

“You don’t have to say it back Spence.” You slid your hand up, and cupped his jaw. “It’s a really big commitment. But you not saying it immediately back doesn’t mean you don’t care about me or don’t love me back. You might just not be ready to say it out lou–”

“Look who’s the one rambling now?” He smirked slightly, making fun of your conversation from the previous night, in which you cut him off with a kiss when he was too busy telling you about something that wasn’t relevant to the task at hand. Spencer followed your model and cut you off with a kiss that you melted into. “I love you too.”

______________________________________________________________

Spencer had been sitting next to your hospital bed for a whole day now. He was exhausted, hungry, dehydrated, covered in blood, and looked like shit–but none of that mattered since you had been in a medically-induced coma since the ambulance brought you to the hospital.

Watching as you coded not one, but twice during the ride to the hospital just continued to confirm Spencer’s greatest fear. Hearing your heartbeat flatline is something he never ever wants to experience again. Ever.

The room was filled with vases of flowers. It made the air sickly sweet, the bitter opposite of how he was feeling, looking down at your sleeping body. But he knows you would have found some of them funny.

There was a vase of red and white camellias, meaning you were the “flame” of someone’s heart, but also adorable. Someone else had sent you declarations of love (red tulips) with hints of declaring war (tansies) throughout. But the one from Spencer was the best.

He had bought you a bouquet of red poppies: meaning consolation. Spencer had gotten you a consolation prize for being on the team and getting stabbed in the stomach. He was hoping your sense of humor would still be intact when you woke up. If not, then they were also from Derek.

Just then, the machine made a sound Spencer hadn’t heard before. Then it made it again. A long beep, loud enough to wake the dead, but somehow not you. A nurse came running in and ushered him out of the room, much to his opposition.

He fought with two different nurses, trying to stay in the room with you. Apparently having three Phds means nothing when they aren’t the right ones to keep him in that room with you. And regardless of his relationship status, he was now stuck back in the waiting room with the other peasants.

“So….”

Spencer looked up at Derek.

“So?”

“How long.”

“Not in the mood right now Derek.”

“No, no. I wanna know–how long have you two been sneakin’ around. I mean, for gods sake Reid, you managed to keep a relationship hidden from some of the best profilers in the country..”

“Well.” He grumbled, looking back at the hallway you were down. “Over a year now–almost two.”

“I’m sorry–two? Two years?.”

Spencer nodded, looking back at Derek.

“Damn.” He muttered, shaking his head. “Now I–”

Whatever Derek was going to say was paused when a nurse walked in, a slight splatter of blood over her scrubs. Both of them turned their attention to her, fearing the worst by the solemn look on her face.

“She’s awake.”

“Holy shit.” Derek mumbled while Spencer let out a breath he had been holding for what felt like millenia.

“But.” The nurse continued. “She can only see one person at a time. And she’s asking for Agent Hotchner.”

Neither of them had realized that the solemn looking section chief was sitting quietly in the corner. Derek and Spencer shared a look with another, while Hotch got up from his chair and followed the nurse down the hallway and into your room.

“Aaron.” You smiled at him, though it was an exhausted smile. “Thought you’d come in with blood on your shirt from having to fight through Spencer and Derek.”

Hotch chuckled and closed the door behind him, sitting down next to you and placing a hand on yours, squeezing it. “The nurse shot them both a look and told them ‘not to try anything’. But I do have to ask, why me.”

You closed your eyes. “I want to give you my recount of what happened while I can still see it.”

“Y/n you do–”

“Hotch I want to. I watched as she stabbed that woman over and over. I watched as that asshole buried her body. I want to tell you what I saw. I want to tell you so that there’s no fucking way either of them will ever see the light of day again.”

Hotch didn’t feel like now was the appropriate time to mention that one of the unsubs was dead. He wanted to hear your memory of the events. He pulled out a mini black notebook, and a pen, from inside his suit jacket pocket. “Whenever you’re ready Y/N.”

______________________________________________________________

“Hello everyone, my name is Doctor Y/n Y/l/n, and I am going to be your speaker today. I have been with the BAU for about a month, and they wanted me to come in and speak to you about it—a newbie’s experience.”

That earned you a couple of laughs scattered throughout the crowd. You were asked to come in and speak about what it’s like to join the BAU to anyone interested in becoming profilers. You were not expecting for it to be a full house, but every single seat had someone in it, with overflow huddling around the back of the lecture hall by the walls.

“Now, I’ll try to stay within my time limit since I know standing and listening to someone blab on about themselves is not the ideal situation; however. That’s exactly what you signed up for. So–.”

Spencer stood in the back of the room, watching you speak to all of these students with ease–your peers really. Some of them even older than you, and yet, there you were, confidently smiling and maintaining their interest. It baffled Spencer.

He wished he knew how you were able to captivate so easily, especially since he was completely enamored by you. Derek knew it too—well the whole team really knew, except for you.

The crowds laugh pulled him out of his thoughts as you continued on.

“Right. Now.” You clicked the little clicker and the pictures shifted behind you. “It’s time to get serious. I know I said that already, but I mean it this time.” You smirked a little bit and went onto the next slide.

“The first case I ever worked with the BAU, I was just a temp filling in Elle Greenaway while she was away on some family matter. I was assisting in some case where—”

Spencer’s train of thought got the better of him. All he could do was think about the day you subbed in for Elle. He could remember it like yesterday, even though it was almost forty days ago, not that he was counting. He didn’t remember much of the case though, which was a sore subject that Derek and JJ would tease him about still.

“Does anyone have any questions about the process?” Your voice brought him back to the lecture hall once again.

“How old are you?” Some random guy’s voice rang out amongst the crowd.

“Well.” You laughed. “I’m twenty-two.”

Spencer heard some of the people around murmur, and he chose to ignore whatever they were saying about you, since he wasn’t one to win most fights.

“Why the BAU?”

You paused and bit your cheek, thinking really hard about that question.

“Honestly? I was obsessed with the serial killer documentaries when I was like fifteen/sixteen, and then one of my family members was murdered when I was fourteen. It’s not something I talk about a lot, but I remember my biggest question was why. It’s why I was so obsessed with those documentaries, because I wanted to know why someone felt that they could just take someone away from a family, from the world, and I realized that the only way I could find out the answer was if I did it myself.”

There was a murmuring throughout the crowd once again.

“I don’t think I’ll find the answer any time soon, if at all. But I love being able to protect people. I love being able to know that what I’m doing every day matters–to everyone sure, but mostly to me.”

Spencer, and the rest of the team, had no idea you were connected to such a tragic event at such a young age. You didn’t show the signs of someone who had gone through something like that. But now that he knew, he wanted to find out everything about it, find a way to bing you peace of mind. God, it sounded so stupid. He barely even knew you.

He was lucky you were extraverted in that since he could barely form a sentence around you. God he couldn’t wait to listen to you talk to him on the car ride back to the BAU.

______________________________________________________________

You ended up talking to Spencer last.

One by one you smiled at your friends, reassured them you were feeling better, and told them you would rest.

But then, Spencer was standing in the doorway, and he was looking at you with such pain, with such distraughtness, that tears started to stream out of your eyes–you didn’t notice. But Spencer did. He quickly closed the door behind him and walked over to the bed. Clasping your hand in his, he used his other hand to wipe away the tears on your cheeks. “Sweetheat, baby, it’s okay. I’ve got you. It’s okay.” He whispered, trying to provide you with some comfort.

“Did…Did you get my necklace back…”

That was not where Spencer thought this conversation was going. “I–”

“Be-Because I can't ... .Spence I’m so sorry. She just snatched it off of my neck while I was unconscious and, and, and she put it on, and fuck–”

Spencer squeezed your hand, causing your rampage to stop, but the tears pushed on. “We have it.” He said quietly. “There’s no way in hell I’m ever letting anyone else take that necklace okay?”

You nodded and used your other hand to wipe at your cheeks, managing to get rid of the tears.

Spencer kissed your hand again. “It’s at home, right on the kitchen counter. I got it professionally cleaned and everything.”

You nodded and sighed. After a moment of silence, you peered around his frame, taking in all of the flowers and balloons and cards that people had left you.

“wow…This is…”

“A lot?”

You nodded, brows furrowing as you bit the inside of your cheek. Spencer watched as your eyes slowly scanned across the flowers in the room, landing on the bouquet from Derek.

“Is someone trying to declare war on me?” Your laugh was a bit garbled as you swallowed down the rest of your tears, trying desperately to change the subject.

“Morgan thought you would think that was funny.” He whispered, his eyes only focused on you. On the way your lips parted when a particular inhale hurt your chest since they had only taken the catheter out an hour ago, or the way your chest rose and fell, the bruises scattered across were blooming into nasty blues, purples, and greens.

“Who got me poppies?”

Spencer met your eyes, a small cheeky smile on his lips.

You slapped his arm with no mirth behind it, a grin spread widely across your face. “I’m sorry. But did you get me a consolation prize for surviving?”

Spencer nodded, watching as you laughed to yourself, wincing when it would hurt a bit too much. “I love them, Spence.”

“Good.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

There were more flowers you couldn’t see, at your home. There was vase upon vase, filled with plenty of flowers for you to decode their accidental (or purposeful) messages, each with their own ‘get well!’ card attached. There was only one bouquet that mattered above the rest, made of completely fake flowers. There were bright red Salvia Splendens, contrasting against the white of the kitchen counter, waiting for you to come home and see them.

Spencer had thought that he should buy you flowers that lasted forever, just as long as his love would, just as long as he would forever be yours.

______________________________________________________________

SSMFM Taglist: @raely-study @multifandoms-assemble @marylovesevanpeters@shqwqrma @niya06 @freefallthoughts @fansformentalydistroyedmen @r-3dlips @xholdinmebackxx @universallyblizzardlove

Reid Taglist: @s1lariathas

#x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader fluff #dr spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader angst

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inexplicifics · 8 months ago

Note

I LOVE the AWAU so very much and have been inhaling the new story!

The outsider POV of Kaer Morhen made me want to read Sasha’s story again, and I got the giggles when I read Aiden’s idea of giving Lambert tansy seeds so he could declare war at any given moment.

I would love to read about what happens when/if other Witchers and trainees learn about Redanian flower language and the resulting hijinks!

I think the Griffins go whole hog, just delighted by the Romantic opportunities of flower language. They probably start painting various flowers on their armor, or embossing them.

It's the Cranes who come up with the idea of creating a Witcher flower language, though.

A lot of plants mean 'you are going to die very painfully', but, well, Witchers. What're you going to do.

I'm so glad you're liking the new story!

#questions answered #accidental warlord au #flung to catch a star

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sweetyamz1 · 3 months ago

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✦ cute npts pack﹕

names — Mew.　Poppy.　Kit.　Darcy.　Bunny.　Pippa.　Fawn.　Nina.　Holly.　Belle.　Mira.　Sunny.　Cinna.　Luna.　Stella.　Beau.　Ella.　Valerie.　Dove.　Willa.　Flora.　Maisie.　Hazel.　Cassie.　Rosie.　Ruby.　Lila.　Ellie.　Ivy.　Evie.　Mimi.　Tessa.　Skye.　Bree.　Lottie.　Tansy.　Molly.　Twyla.　Mabel.　Piper.　Gemma.　Elsie.　Cleo.　Mira.　Hattie.　Iris.　Pearl.　Penny.　Luna.　Mina.

pronouns — mew / mews / mewself.　sin / sins / sinself.　pop / pops / popself.　pink / pinks / pinkself.　kit / kitten / kittenself.　darl / darling / darlself.　bun / buns / bunself.　pup / pups / pupself.　faun / fauns / faunself.　fawn / fawns / fawnself.　nya / nyas / nyaself.　hug / hugs / hugself.　kiss / kisses / kisself.　bloom / blooms / bloomself.　cloud / clouds / cloudself.　val / vals / valself.　beau / beaus / beauself.　cake / cakes / cakeself.　cinna / cinnas / cinnaself.　puff / puffs / puffself.　star / stars / starself.　luck / lucks / luckself.　glow / glows / glowself.　air / aries / arieself.　pet / pets / petself.　fleur / fleurs / fleursel.　dove / doves / doveself.　wish / wishes / wishself.　shine / shines / shineself.　shimmer / shimmers / shimmerelf.　bell / bells / bellself.　breeze / breezes / breezeself.　wave / waves / waveself.　mint / minty / mintself.　sprout / sprouts / sproutself.　berry / berries / berryself.　joy / joys / joyself.　gem / gems / gemself.

titles — the bringer of sweet dreams.　the one who dances with the stars.　the keeper of warm hugs.　the guardian of cozy moments.　[prn] who brings light to the darkest nights.　[prn] who sprinkles joy wherever [prn] goes.　the heart that shines with kindness.　the one who blooms with every sunrise.　the whisperer of gentle breezes.　the star that twinkles brightest.　[prn] who cuddles the world close.　[prn] who chases the clouds away.　the voice that sings to the moon.　the one who wraps the world in warmth.　[prn] who makes the world a little brighter.

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deardollyz · 14 days ago

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Tansy Singh, your honor

(i edited her into a tales of little women screenshot while the internet was out, i got real bored okay 💜)

#diva up #jjba oc #oc #she’s technically not in the Jjba style rn but its still a Jjba oc i guess #Tansy moment #scrunkalicious

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zazahours · 1 month ago

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BELLS.

Tansy is the definition of rings on her fingers and bells on her toes except the bells are actually EVERYWHERE like the pearl looking things that hang from her collar down to her waist or whatever THOSE HAVE BELLS AFTER EVERY OTHER PEARL. the small little attachments that wing out from her belt are BELLS like the circle jingle bells. her leg warmers/garter whatever idk what they're called but they serve cvnt ARE HELD UP BY BELLS she is NOT sneaking up on NOBODY she jingles when she moves the slightest and her horse has bells on her too!!!! (build me up) buttercup more like butterBELL!!! And depending on if she's stomping or not it can be angry jingling or normal jingling even sad jingling she's just a jingly little girl that's probably the only reason Johnny hasn't lost her disappearing act ass at this point it's because she keeps JINGLING. same goes for Tansy's brother alexander (who is kinda my pfp on this blog) HE HAS BELLS ON HIS BOOTS AND BELLS ON HIS DUMB LITTLE HAT. THE WHOLE FAMILY IS JINGLING!!!! (not Lesley though she's normal)

#jojo oc #jjba oc #steel ball run #Tansy my beloved #i wonder if i can start a tag for my own oc #Tansy Moment #that's what its gonna be

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acerathia · 11 months ago

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pink camellias || Masterlist

Summary:

Stuck as an heiress to the marquisate, you desperately wished to escape for an adventure. So the moment you heard of the recruitment for the war, you took the opportunity and went instead of your father. Equipped with your trusty sword, you thought yourself prepared for every possible situation. Until Bakugou appeared.

Pairing:

Bakugou Katsuki / Reader

Estimated Wordcount: 30k

Tags/CW:

regency/victorian au, inspired by Mulan, war and its consequences, violence, childhood friends to strangers to companions to lovers (i am sorry), Angst, Acts of Service, Character Death (Major, and Minor), swordfights, misogyny, f!reader, kidnapping, implied torture, let me know if I missed anything lol

Note:

This work is also inspired by the "in cinders au" by andypantsx3, go check it out!! Wordcount may vary tbh

Chapters:

Chapter 1: hyacinth Chapter 2: geranium Chapter 3: valerian Chapter 4: sweet william Chapter 5: tansy Chapter 6: morning glory Chapter 7: nasturtium Chapter 8: lotus Chapter 9: red chrysanthemum Bonus: Daisy

#bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x you #katsuki x reader

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itsabouttimex2 · 5 months ago

Note

I been kinda busy so I'm late to the party but i came back to fulfill my duty of rambling about ABNJ. I hope your sister's recover is going (or already went) well. Gonna try to make this one brief since i see i have a lot of posts to catch up to!

- the whole moment with indirect declaration of love is so good and the insight into Macaques thoughts is really nice! Seeing characters thoughts and generally introspections is one of my fav things in writing tbh

- a vulnerable moment followed up by a shove. Is it just excitement to give them the clothes or some form of guilt?? Both maybe (This is probably overinterpration so in that case ignore it)

- flower symbolism my beloved <333 roses sprouting showing how Macaque starts to feel loved and Y/n is one taking care of them. (i didn't see them mentioned in fourth part but there is a big chance i could be misremembering. Did Rumble and Savage plant them? 👀). Also Dahlias and Tansies being in bloom emphasizing already negative feelings that exist in Macaque.

- are Savage and Rumble going after MK?? Hopefully they will just steal his phone or something because i doubt they would be on the winning side in actual physical fight with him.

That's all from me for now! At this point i should make account for commenting so i don't spam your askbox. Thank you for the work you put in and have fun watching season 5! Remember to stay hydrated! :]

I always love to hear your thoughts on A Brand New Journey! I intend to put out Part Seven soon- and I’m sorry that they take so long!

Ok, so a big part in general of this chosen route- Fatherly!Macaque as your mentor, that is- was literally built around this note that I’ve been sitting on for a while:

“Macaque has no one. Not since Wukong. Probably no one before that, and barely anyone afterwards. He has no family. He has no friends. Macaque is alone.

His own “Sworn Brothers” didn’t like him. Note that he has zero interactions with the Brotherhood outside of Wukong and Peng! Note that not even one of them calls him “brother”! They didn’t care about him!

Wukong wasn’t the most understanding of individuals, and Macaque ended up acting as a blind enabler instead of a friend. Together, hand in hand, they ruined probably the only genuine friendship either one had at that point.

Wukong found people who helped him grow. Macaque refused to leave the side of people who didn’t care for him, even if he wanted to at least hear out Wukong. Good influences and bad, one simian with a brash will to change and the other too cowardly to even run.

They deviated further from one another- fatally, this time.

Centuries spent dead and alone.

Then he’s back.

After so very long, Macaque is returned to life.

And he finds someone. And that someone cares enough to share their food, to share his home, to share their time, to share memories and warmth and company.

Macaque finds someone who cares about him, and he cares right back, so deeply that his feelings threaten to swallow him..

And then, for the very first time in all of his many centuries-

Macaque gets an “I love you”.

Who wouldn’t that break?

And then Macaque has himself a little internal monologue (signified by paragraphs and unflattering descriptions of himself) about how he views himself as a monster and doesn’t deserve Y/N…

And then justifies his actions by internally declaring himself a “villain” and pushing his cherished student away. But he also spends the rest of the chapter grabbing and pushing and pulling- because this is his kid, and he loves them (gods above, how he loves them!) so much that he doesn’t want to let go.

Y/N planted the roses themself, actually- roses symbolize fatherhood- they’re the official flower of Father’s Day, even! The tansies and dahlias are in bloom- this time with Macaque’s negative feelings towards himself!

Rumble and Savage aren’t going to do anything too bold without permission… but they are getting very antsy about all of this.

As always, thank you for the comments! I adore you sharing your thoughts with me!

#Time Talks #A Brand New Journey #Yandere Macaque #Macaque #LMK #Lego Monkie Kid

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acourtofwhatthefuck · 2 years ago

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Fireleaf (Part Twelve)

Hi! Thank you for all your patience and well wishes ♥️here’s part twelve. This is a long one! @greeneyedivy and I hope you enjoy! 💋

Warnings: None for this part!

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

His golden skin was sallow. Dark smudges sat beneath his eyes.

Sleep had evaded Lucien until the birds had awoken to sing, the daylight as grey and watery as he felt. Too many thoughts had pelted him all night through. Too many things to consider, to understand.

A whole host of words sat on his tongue; apologies and explanations, words she deserved to hear. And yet he didn’t speak a word of them.

Neither of them spoke at all, that morning, in fact. They shared a terse, tasteless breakfast, their gazes pinned on the drear sight outside the window. He couldn’t stop his eyes from straying to her every now and then, to the pretty, white shirt and breeches she wore; couldn’t help wondering whether any of his marks lay beneath those clothes.

He didn’t deserve to know. Didn’t deserve to even look at her – not after how he’d behaved the night before, the things he’d said. The haunted look he’d left in her eyes.

And that was why he kept his mouth clamped shut as they mounted their horses and set off for home. The ride back to the Vanserra Estate would be silent and heavy, no doubt; but that was what he deserved. Silence. Stoicism.

He rode behind her, allowing his mind to bounce things around. Namely the realisation that things had changed. Or maybe he had changed. He wasn’t sure. But there had certainly been a shift – one he was going to resign himself to, accept without a fight.

And with that came a responsibility. Something he should have done long ago, but had never found a good enough reason to.

Until now. Y/N was a good reason. The only reason.

They were halfway home when Lucien turned to her and spoke for the first time since their brief acknowledgement of each other that morning.

“You go on without me, okay?” He said. “There’s something I need to do.”

Y/N’s shadowed face turned to frown at him. “Where are you going?”

“Just an errand I need to run. I’ll see you back at home.”

She stared back at him for a moment, and Lucien hated that it made his heart pick up a bit. That just her gaze on him made him feel that little bit better about the task ahead.

And then she was shrugging, her back to him once more as she continued on. Lucien watched her ride out of sight before turning his mount in the direction in which his purpose lay.

The estate in question wasn’t far from the dusty road he currently rode along. A road he’d travelled many times before, when visiting the huge country house that Tansy lived in with her family.

Tansy. She was a sweet female. Lucien had known her since his days of schooling, and knew full well that many people were expecting them to wed one day. And Lucien had tried to feel things for her beyond a sexual attraction – truly he had. But he just…couldn’t. And never would.

He knew that, now. Now that someone was finally taking up that place in his heart.

And even though he could probably never have who he wanted…he couldn’t, in all good conscience, continue giving Tansy hope that would never come to fruition. Not when he couldn’t stop thinking about another female. It would be unfair to do so.

The splendid house loomed before him as his horse carried him up the winding drive. Many times, he’d dropped by for a fleeting visit. Many times, he’d had tea with Tansy’s parents and made himself at home.

And yet he thought he’d always known, somewhere in the back of his mind, that something more was one day coming for him.

Just a slight inconvenience that the something more was due to wed his brother.

The front door was opening before Lucien had even reached the steps leading up to the veranda, and Tansy was hurrying out in a flash of golden hair and pale blue fabric, lifting the skirts of her gown as she descended to greet him. A wide smile broke out on her face as he slowed to a stop.

“Lucien.” She breathed, her cheeks dusted with pink, “What a lovely surprise.”

Lucien met her smile with a modest one, and he felt terrible — utterly fucking horrible — but her gut-punching beauty just did…nothing for him. She was stunning, no doubt — perhaps one of the prettiest females in the entire Autumn Court.

But she was Tansy. And not…not—

“To what do we owe the pleasure?” She broke Lucien from his brooding, stroking the neck of his horse. “Mother will be so delighted to see you. We were just preparing tea—”

“Actually,” he cut in, not wanting to get himself stuck there for hours, “I’m afraid I can’t stay for long. I…I was hoping we might talk — you and I.”

He damn near cursed under his breath at the way her eyes lit up like he’d offered to wed her right then on the spot. She smiled, clasping her hands behind her back.

“I would like that.” She said. “Let’s take a walk.”

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The two of them strode around the orchard in a thick silence, discomfort heavy in Lucien’s mind and bones. He knew Tansy must suspect something untoward, given that he’d barely uttered a word beyond the usual pleasantries. But this…he needed to do this. Needed to get the words out.

They’d almost walked the entire length by the time Tansy turned to him, a gentle smile on her lips. She truly was stunning; especially against the backdrop of reds and oranges and yellows; the weather was changing with what was the closest thing the Autumn Court had to a spring season, and the shades changed with it. It seemed to bring out the spun-gold shade of her hair, the vibrancy of her eyes. She pulled Lucien to a stop by a cluster of trees that were far out of sight of the house – a place where they’d sat and talked before. Kissed before. Even—

“I haven’t seen you since the Harvest Festival.” Tansy commented, her soft voice like honey. “I was wondering if you’d visit. That was almost six months ago...”

Six packed, busy months, indeed. He should have made the effort to come sooner.

Lucien nodded, shaking his thoughts off. He clasped his hands behind his back. “Things have been busy since then. But it was…imperative…that I drop by and see you today.”

“Because you need to talk to me about something.”

“Right.” He cleared his throat. “You see, the thing is—”

“The Festival of Growth is so close.” She cut in. “I wonder if our families will get together.”

Gods, Lucien hoped not. It made him feel awful, but all he wanted was to deliver this blow and get out of there – not see Tansy again for a while, at least until she was over it. But it was true, their two families had been known to share a celebratory meal at this time of year, when the crops for the year’s harvest would be planted, and a festival was held to bless them and ask the Mother for a fruitful few months of growth. And for their two families to get together after this–

He couldn’t think about that right now.

“Perhaps.” Was his vague answer, a polite smile on his lips. “But—”

“Do you remember,” she laughed, touching his arm, “when we snuck that bottle of wine out to the garden and got so drunk, we couldn’t find our way back? I think–”

“Tansy, I can’t see you anymore.”

Silence met him, the female’s pretty face creasing into a frown. Her lips parted slightly as she stared up at him.

“…what…?” Was all she murmured.

“I’m sorry.” Lucien licked his lips — and truly, he was. He didn’t know how people such as his father could withstand being so cold and cruel when something like this was twisting his insides. He stared into her eyes, his russet ones sincere. “Really, Tansy, I’m sorry. But I know there are…expectations…between us. And it wouldn’t be right for me to honour those when my heart’s not in it.”

Still nothing but that soft, pinched brow as she frowned up at him. He took a step back, swallowing.

“Perhaps I should leave you to—”

“Hold on a second.” She stopped him with a hand on his arm. “I don’t…I don’t understand. You were all over me at the Harvest Festival.”

His eyes shuttered. She was right about that — he had been all over her, seeking a night of pleasure to burn away the frustration he felt in…in Y/N’s presence. The fire he felt in her presence. Even in those early days of her living at the estate, she’d managed to get into the very corners of his mind.

And he’d used Tansy to try and fight it off. And he shouldn’t have done. And he’d known he shouldn’t at the time.

“I know.” He admitted with a soft sigh. “And I shouldn’t have done that. I have no excuses. I’m sorry, Tansy. But no matter how much pressure is on us…I can’t pretend that my head or my heart is in this when they’re just…not. It wouldn’t be fair on either of us. And I’m trying to be better…to do right by people.”

Her mouth opened and closed, like she was searching for words and utterly failing. But if Lucien knew her as well as he thought he did, she wouldn’t be speechless for long. She would have probing questions — ones Lucien didn’t particularly want to answer, whether that made him selfish or not — and he wanted to be out of there and on his way home before she did.

“I’m sorry.” He repeated, squeezing her shoulder. “Truly. That…that was what I came to say. I’ll leave you to it.”

He turned on his feet, and he’d barely made two steps forward before a warm hand was enclosing around his. He stifled a sigh as Tansy pulled him to a halt.

“Wait.” She said, her tone a tad sharper than before. “Something has obviously changed.”

Lucien swallowed. Those words danced dangerously close to a territory he didn’t want to breach. Not when he’d only just started dipping his toe in those waters, privately, himself. He wasn’t ready to share it with another person.

But he inclined his chin, merely confirming. “Yes. Something has.”

Tansy cocked an eyebrow. “We’ve known each other a long time, Lucien. Don’t I deserve to know the truth, at the very least?”

He did sigh then — because yes, yes she did. He hadn’t exactly given her much to go on, and the blow had come out of the blue. And Mother above, didn’t he know it.

Tansy eyed him, her brow furrowing again. “Is…is there somebody else?”

Y/N’s face immediately flashed into his mind. Her voice that was slightly smoky and raspy. Her smile—

Something must have altered in his expression. Tansy blinked up at him, taking a step back.

“Yes.” Lucien bit out, his insides twisting. “There—there is somebody.”

“…oh.”

Oh, indeed. Just saying it aloud made him feel both hot and cold all over. He hadn’t planned this for himself, hadn’t expected it—

But here he was. And he…he thought he was done trying to run from it.

“Who is it?” Tansy asked him, her voice small, quiet.

“It’s…very complicated.” He cleared his throat. “Something I need to work through on my own and—”

“Do you love this person?”

He faltered, that four letter word seeming to slice at him. His eyes blinked at her as though she’d spoken in a foreign tongue, but his mind was whirring, churning, roiling. So many emotions battled one another inside him; panic and awe and confusion and…hope, in some strange, roundabout way. Hope that he had no right or reason to feel.

“Well?” Tansy pressed. “Do you?”

“I…” He swallowed. “I’m sorry – I can’t talk about this. I need…I need to go home.”

Home. Back to the estate. Back to—

He turned again, and this time didn’t allow himself to be stopped, his footsteps leaden and yet brisk as he hurried back through the orchard. Back through the house. Back to his horse.

He’d done what he’d come to do. He should have been leaving with a clearer head than he’d arrived with.

And yet his mind was roaring at him as he rode away.

Roaring one little, four letter word, on a torturous loop.

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He didn’t make his way home straight away. With such crowded thoughts, the open roads and fields were the best place for him to be. And he took advantage of them, spending the rest of that day riding around the gorgeous landscapes and just…allowing his thoughts to come to him. Allowing them to exist.

It was already mid-afternoon when he pitched up against a tree, giving both himself and his horse a well-earned break. The trees swayed around them, the birds singing and flying above them. Lucien crossed his legs beneath him, allowing the cold air to bite at his skin and ruffle his unbound hair. And he thought. And thought. And thought.

About her.

About how, in reality, he’d known her a short time, and yet this…thing…between them felt ancient. Like something that had lived beneath the soil for decades, watching, waiting, and had blossomed when the two of them were too near to be unaware of it any longer.

None of it made sense in his mind. All the words that just kept coming to him when he thought of her. Of the way she challenged him, provoked him, made his blood boil and his heart flutter.

He didn’t think he’d ever been in love before. Lust – absolutely. He had felt a maddening attraction for females over the years, but ones that were always temporary. And none of them had ever consumed him like this. Like…like he was sick with it. And yet, in the most glorious way possible.

He sighed to himself, tossing the core of his eaten apple onto the ground. He dug into his satchel, reaching for the trusty companion he took everywhere with him, the one that always seemed to have answers and words that remained scarily relevant and true to his very own situations. They weren’t just poems, for Lucien. They were…something to relate to. Something that he could read, and feel less lonely for doing so. Knowing that others had felt enough of these warring emotions to want to write them down. Present them beautifully.

He picked a page at random, the slight breeze seeming to choose a poem for him. And as his eyes scanned the words, he exhaled a long, deep breath, feeling a distant sense of home. Like home was in these pages. These verses.

Realisation quickly overcame him

A lust for forgiveness, an outreached hand

Emotion and thought warred within

And shouted

Screamed

He’d fallen in love, unplanned

With her wild embers

Her heart of fire

Her mind of storms

That only he

Could understand

His head fell back against the tree, a soft sigh escaping him. Such relevant, fitting words; how could he possibly ignore them? How…how could he continue to avoid what was right in front of him?

And accepting his feelings didn’t make the situation any less complicated. A pretty poem wouldn’t change that the female who consumed his thoughts was engaged to be wed — and to his brother, no less. Forcing himself to be real and true and come to terms with that truth didn’t mean it would end well for him.

It wouldn’t, in fact. It couldn’t. Because he’d fallen in love, unplanned — just like the poem said.

And she wasn’t his to love.

But he couldn’t continue the way he’d been going. Couldn’t keep hurting her. Even if it pained him to love her, and to not be loved back, he at least had the power to make sure he didn’t cause her any further hurt. That expression she’d worn the night before, when he’d spewed such vitriol out of pure, unfettered jealousy, still haunted him.

He needed to be better than that. For her.

He needed to be…to be her friend.

And perhaps the first step on that journey was to stop reading poetry that made him think of her. He shut the book, shoving it into his satchel and jumping to his feet. There was still a while to ride until he made it home. A while for him to figure out how to do this friend thing.

And he would do it. For her. If it meant she smiled and laughed for him.

Apologising would be a good start — and it was what spurred him on as he climbed back onto his horse and set off.

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Thick, inky blackness shrouded the estate by the time he made it home. The place was quiet, the hour growing late — and Lucien wondered if he’d left it too late to track Y/N down. To get the apology off his chest that was beginning to suffocate him.

He wasn’t even sure where to find her. She did a lot of solitary roaming — much like he did. And with his brothers undoubtedly settled into the games room for the night, she could be anywhere, sneaking out to the armoury, or walking through the trees, or—

His boots thudded on the floor of the opulent tea room, coming to a sudden stop. There she was, curled up on one of the settees, a book open in her hand and her face smooth in a contented sleep.

She looked…peaceful. No expression of displeasure or anger, hurt or mocking. Just…serenely beautiful, in the dim light from the nearby sconces, and the silvery moonlight that shone through the glass doors.

He should have continued onwards. Saved the apology until morning. But it was as if a higher force was urging his feet forward as he tread slowly, carefully, in her direction.

He stopped by the settee, the sounds of her soft breathing reaching him. Had he ever seen her so at ease? So unguarded? He hadn’t exactly ever given her a reason to be, not around him.

He found himself just…watching. Watching as she slept beautifully, a single strand of hair tickling her cheek. And there was no stopping him when he gradually reached a hand out.

So lightly, his fingers brushed her skin. Took that soft, silken strand of hair and tucked it behind her ear, out of the way. She didn’t so much as falter in her sleep, even while the pads of his fingers lingered in her hair for a few moments longer. Just…touching. Committing the feeling to memory.

So, so beautiful. It clenched at his heart. Gods, he owed her that apology — that one, and about a million others, for all the ways he’d behaved since she’d arrived.

In the morning, he would track her down. Put things right. Offer her his friendship.

“Ah, there she is.”

The voice came from behind him, and he ripped his hand away fast as lightning, turning to find Dion in the doorway. The ease in his brother’s stance, and on his face, suggested he hadn’t suspected anything untoward.

“I was wondering where she’d got to.” He said, a fond smile on his lips. He lowered his voice, “Is she sleeping?”

Lucien cleared his throat. “Yeah — yes. She dropped her book. I was just…picking it up.”

A pathetic excuse, and yet Dion didn’t seem to notice. He smiled wider, clapping his brother on the shoulder. “I’ll take her up to bed. Care to join Eris and I for a game of cards?”

Lucien almost felt guilty, but…he wasn’t sure he could comfortably sit across from Dion. Not right now. Not when so many new realisations had come to light that he needed to deal with himself.

“I’m pretty tired.” He told him, shaking his head. “Have a good game, though. Goodnight.”

“Night, Loosh.”

Lucien turned and walked from the room — before he had to witness Dion lifting Y/N into his arms. Before he risked her waking.

Tomorrow, he repeated in his mind as he climbed the stairs. He’d apologise tomorrow.

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There was nothing — nothing — that was going to spoil your good mood.

You’d awoken to a stillness so present and potent, you’d allowed yourself to just…bask in it, awhile. To feel a serenity that was alien to you these days.

So rare for the Vanserra Estate to be anything but teeming with activity, and yet — silence. Still, blissful silence.

Beron was away on High Lord business and had taken the Lady of Autumn with him, which had prompted Dion, Eris, Jareth and Rian to set off on an impromptu hunting trip closer to home — one you’d declined to join; and Lucien, too, going by his absence in the group, as you’d watched them ride off into the distance. Where the youngest Vanserra was spending his day, you weren’t sure, but you were highly doubtful you’d run into him. And that worked out just fine for you.

Even the staff were mostly keeping to their quarters, without much to be done. It was the barest you’d seen the place since you’d arrived, and there was something liberating about trawling through the empty halls and grounds and just being met with…silence.

You happily read while taking a solitary breakfast in the tearoom. And it was while gazing out of the glass doors, across the sprawling landscape, that you decided you wanted to feel the wind in your hair and on your face. Wanted to smell the air that was tinged with a pleasant scent since the weather had begun to shift. You readied your horse and set off, no direction in mind — and that felt brilliant. To be free. Undecided. Uncontrolled.

It felt like hours that you spent riding through the sprawl of Autumn landscapes. And it was easy…easy to forget, for a while, the situation you were in. Easy to sink back into the memory of your old life, when you had been mostly free to ride where and when you wanted. To not feel a looming pair of eyes constantly on your back, a firm, unwanted hand on your shoulder.

It must have been nearing noon by the time you got back to the still-empty estate. You returned your horse to the stables, but instead of heading into the warmth of the manor, you took yourself over to the barn at the back of the property.

It was mostly disused, only housing a few old bales of hay — and it had become somewhat of a sanctuary in your time here. Nobody else ventured into it, and on more than one occasion, you’d stowed yourself away to read in the dappled rays of sunlight that peeked through the cracks, or to journal your thoughts in peace. This was the place you’d been allowed to just…be. To not sit or look or act a certain way.

You were just about to climb the steps up to the mezzanine when the door swung open again behind you, and red hair flashed in your periphery. You turned, finding Lucien traipsing in, his steps heavy on the floor.

You stopped, staring at him inquisitively, the tense set of his shoulders. How he’d known to find you here, you had no clue.

It felt…weird, looking at him now. Like some huge, invisible thing existed between you. You didn’t know whether to think of the vicious words his tongue had wielded, or what that tongue had done afterwards.

Lucien cleared his throat, sliding his hands into his pockets. “Good ride?”

You cocked an eyebrow — certainly hadn’t expected that. “Yes,” you said. “…Thank you.”

“Nice weather for it.”

“…uhuh…”

Silence. No response came as Lucien just…just stared at you. You shifted unsurely on the spot, clearing your throat and placing one foot on the first step before you.

“Right, well I’m just gonna–”

“Wait.” He cut you off. “...Wait.”

You stopped again, frowning at him. You could feel a charge. A change. As if invisible tendrils of emotion snaked around him like smoke. A rare sight, from somebody so expert at masking their thoughts, their feelings.

But you got the sense that he was trying his utmost not to mask anything as he stood there before you. The corded muscles of his arms moved as he clenched and unclenched his hands at his sides. And you watched — wondered what, possibly, could have gotten Lucien Vanserra so churned up.

“…Has something happened?” You broached, taking a step forward.

Lucien cleared his throat. Frowned. Shook his head. “Not exactly.”

“…okay…”

“I haven’t—I just—” He sucked in a deep breath. “There’s something I wanted to say.”

You studied him, the way tension seemed to curl in every part of his body. A strange urge arose in you to reach out and smooth your hands over his shoulders — to comfort him.

You tamped down on that thought as quickly as it had formed.

He inched closer, running his fingers through his hair. And his voice wavered, somewhat, as he said, “I owe you an apology.”

You blinked. “What?”

“I owe you an apology. Well �� a few, actually, but one in particular.”

You could only stare at him. Stare, and try to work out what had shifted so dramatically from the version of him you’d seen at the inn. And it wasn’t that you preferred that version; not by any means. His words had sliced you, stung you, and had lingered more than he probably realised. But you…you had become used to his dislike for you. Resigned yourself to the fact that you tempted him as much as you irritated him. You were merely a recurring downfall he kept coming back to—

You weren’t quite sure what to do, how to face the person that was standing in front of you.

So you schooled your features into something sharp. A face you’d learned how and when to wear; how and when it would serve you best.

“If this is about the things you said,” you bit, willing ice into your tone, “forget it. I’m a big girl, Lucien. I can handle some misplaced opinions about me.”

“It isn’t just about that.” He swallowed. “It is partly — and I’m sorry. Those things I said were out of line and I didn’t mean them. But this is about…about everything.”

You folded your arms. Merely asked, “what.”

“Can we—can we sit?” He jerked his chin at one of the hay bales. “Please?”

An antagonistic part of you wanted to refuse — and perhaps that meant you were still affected by his words. Such a natural part of your defence mechanism would be to slam your walls up high and stop him from coming any closer.

But you’d never seen his dark eyes so soft — open. Never seen the genuine worry that etched itself into his face. And from the way a muscle in his jaw ticked, and his hands continued to ball at his sides, you knew it was an effort for him to present himself like this. To keep himself like this.

To stop himself slamming his own walls up.

So you walked silently, crossing the floor and perching atop of the bale. And after a beat, Lucien joined you.

You watched every movement of his; the way he shifted and tucked a leg beneath himself. He looked uncharacteristically nervous as he angled his body towards you, his eyes flicking up to meet yours.

“I didn’t mean those things I said at the inn.” He cleared his throat. “Really — I’m sorry.”

You shrugged your too-tense shoulders. “It’s whatever.”

“It isn’t whatever.”

“I don’t care—”

“Y/N.” He cut you off, sighing. “Can we just…just drop the act? Both of us?”

You felt yourself go still. Because this was serious — he was serious.

You could see that.

This wasn’t just some half-hearted apology he felt obligated to make. He was trying to…to reach you. To reach further than you would ever usually allow.

You didn’t know how to feel about it — besides your natural inclination to pull away. To run far, far away from the vulnerability.

But you also thought you wanted to hear him out…to see this side he was offering up to you that you’d never seen.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, glancing down. Your voice was small as you said, “Go on, then.”

There was a slight pause of silence, like Lucien was chewing over his words. And you allowed him to do so; allowed him to be the one to take this further when he was ready.

“…We’ve both been pretty awful to each other.” He said after a moment, and you opened your mouth— “Hang on. Let me speak.”

You eased back slightly. Snapped your mouth shut, allowing your response to die in your throat. Nodded.

Lucien swallowed. “But I…I know that however you’ve behaved towards me has just been in response to how I’ve behaved towards you.”

Correct. You shrugged. “You were rude to me on my first day here. I was just…following your lead.”

“I know. And I know that I got you wrong. Completely misjudged you.”

Well — it was about damn time he admitted it. You nodded brusquely.

“I—I regret it. How I’ve behaved towards you.” He stared at you openly — sincerely. “I am sorry, Y/N. I need you to know that. I’m sorry for all the things I’ve said that have been entirely out of line. For judging you before I got to know you.” He paused, sucking in a deep breath. “You are…not…who I initially assumed you were.”

Your body seemed to loosen without your direction — like some of that built-up tension was drawn out from his words. And the stubborn, confrontational part of you didn’t want to relent so easily…

But you could see his sincerity. Feel it, even. And you could also see how damn difficult it was for him to sit before you, open and vulnerable. He was making an effort…and one that he didn’t have to make.

Surely you could, also.

So you unfolded your arms. Allowed him to see that you weren’t entirely closed-off. You sat back slightly, leaning on your hands.

“So who am I, then?” You asked. “If I’m not who you initially assumed I was?”

There was a very slight teasing to your tone — an opening.

But Lucien was completely serious as he stared at you and replied, “You’re somebody I’d like as my friend.”

You…you stared back at him, all thoughts and responses momentarily eddying from your mind. You hadn’t expected him to be quite so…honest, you supposed. Real.

Kind.

“…I’ve seen numerous times that you have a kind heart.” He continued, his fingers tearing at pieces of hay as he spoke. “Even on your first week here…I saw how much it upset you that my father disregarded all the hard work that went into the harvest. And I misjudged that. And then when the fire broke out at the hamlet, you were the first one to go straight there and offer your help…even though you knew you’d get in trouble for it. And I’ve seen you around the estate…helping the maids and servants and stable boys without being asked to. Just because you want to.”

You felt your cheeks burn at that. You’d admittedly tried to be subtle in aiding members of staff — people you’d gotten to know and grown fond of — with their work, knowing damn well that Beron would have many an unsavoury thing to say about it. But the fact that Lucien had noticed—

“You’re kind. Compassionate.” He said. He cleared his throat again. “And…and my brother is lucky to have you.”

No, a voice in your head whispered, Dion is lucky to have Willow. But Lucien wasn’t privy to that little hitch in your betrothal. For anyone on the outside looking in, Dion was yours, and you were his.

And a strange, sudden thing arose in you, craving the ability to share such a thing. To lighten the load. To tell someone how lonely you felt.

But you couldn’t.

So you merely dipped your chin. “Thank you.” You said quietly. “I appreciate that.”

Lucien studied you, nodding. “I don’t want there to be any more bad feeling between us. We can be…friends. Right?”

You stared back at him, knowing what he was really communicating. You could be friends — and that meant putting a stop to the fleeting moments of passion between you. Making your relationship well and truly platonic.

And maybe…maybe that was the right thing, all round. Surely a friendship was better, steadier, than high tensions and momentary lust.

You nodded, not entirely sure you believed yourself as you responded, “of course. We can be friends.”

The way Lucien’s shoulders slumped in relief almost had you reaching forward to hug him. But you weren’t sure you were quite there…not yet.

“Great.” He smiled softly. “Friends, then.”

You inclined your head. “Friends.”

He stood up, and his gaze lingered on you a moment longer before he smiled. A warm smile that you never would have imagined him directing at you.

“I’ll leave you in peace.” He said, striding back over to the door. It was clear that he walked away with a weight lifted from his shoulders.

And you watched him. Watched as he slipped out of the barn, the rickety door shutting behind him. And you just sat there…thinking. Reflecting. Feeling.

Friends.

It should have felt way better than it did.

It shouldn’t have left such a sour taste in your mouth.

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Your mood a couple of days later was not even nearly as upbeat.

It had started with a dream. A hazy replaying of a fond memory. You’d dreamt it before, and very few details had changed from the last time—

Linden lay beside you on the shore of a lake. Water droplets still clung to his rich brown skin, his braids. Buttery sunlight glinted off of him, making him look like he glowed.

His head turned to the side, one eye cracking open to peer at you, and he grinned that wicked grin of his. “What are you staring at?”

“You.” You smiled back, propping your head on a hand. “You’re quite pretty, you know.”

He tipped his head back, barking a laugh, eyes crinkling at the sides and dark lashes brushing his cheekbones. “Well, thank you. I’m glad you think I’m quite pretty.”

You snorted, reaching out to swipe him. The two of you could joke — gods above, you could, and did more often than not — but it was with utter fondness that you gazed at him.

Your friend. Your confidante. Perhaps even your first love.

So much wiser and older, was Linden. You had only fifty years — as of today — on his two hundred. But you connected with him like nobody else you ever had. He saw you like nobody else ever did.

“Have you had a nice birthday?” He asked you, a soft smile playing on his full lips.

The best birthday ever, in fact. Your family had stopped celebrating birthdays years before — a very mortal thing to do, you knew. And when you’d vaguely mentioned it to Linden in passing…that you simply wanted the day off from training…you hadn’t expected him turning up at the crack of dawn and insisting you get ready for a day spent together.

But the hours of riding on horseback, swimming in Linden’s favourite lake, having a picnic on the shore and basking in the sun…you hadn’t realised how much you’d needed it.

“It’s been the best.” You told him earnestly. “Thank you.”

He grinned, the jesting back in full force as he fluttered his eyelashes. “Of course it has. You had me for company all day.”

“You are such an ass.”

“A pretty one.”

“I take that back. You’re not pretty. Just an ass.”

He gasped, and suddenly he was on his feet, scooping you off the ground. You had barely a chance to make a noise as he took a running jump back into the lake with you, your squeals and laughter swallowed by the water.

You bobbed to the surface, spluttering and coughing around your humour. Linden was quick to join you.

But he wasn’t laughing. Smiling, yes, but — not laughing. He just stared at you.

“You’re never alone, you know.” he said, honesty shining from those deep, dark eyes. “You have me. Always.”

You peered up at him. Felt your heart swell. “You swear it? Always?”

“Always.”

You’d woken with such a gnawing ache, it had been an effort to get up. To join the Lady of Autumn with wedding planning, to talk to the seamstress she’d invited and act like you were interested in the design of your bridal gown. You were a shell, empty, your thoughts on the life you’d once had, the love you’d once had. Linden.

You missed him. Missed him so much, it hurt.

You were lonely.

You’d escaped from the wedding discussions as soon as you reasonably could, your legs carrying you away from the room fast. You needed to walk, to get out of there—

You rounded the corner, your body colliding with someone else’s. Strong hands steadied you, and you looked up to find Dion smiling down at you.

“Where are you heading so fast?” He asked playfully.

You studied his soft, kind features, the warmth that radiated from him. He was your friend. You needed a friend.

“Coming to find you, actually.” You said quickly. “Want to take a walk with me, or something?”

“Sure.” His smile immediately widened. It dropped slightly, though, as he studied you. “…Are you alright?”

“…Yeah. Yes. I just…need some fresh air.”

He didn’t look at all convinced as he stared at you a moment longer. But then he was turning, gesturing to the glass doors at the end of the hall. “Then lead the way, my lady.”

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The two of you walked and walked, the afternoon a fresh bite against your skin. Across the lawns and through the trees, past the stables and outbuildings. You must have covered the entire estate.

Dion did most of the talking. And you…you listened. Quietly strolled beside him as he waxed poetic — about Willow.

You didn’t blame him. You knew your sister was brilliant, and any fool could see how smitten Dion was. But as he regaled you with information of their correspondence, the future plans they’d made, the things they fantasised about…it all became a bit too much.

Certainly didn’t help that deep well of loneliness that was overflowing inside you.

The final straw came as you were making your way back round to the front of the grounds. Just in time to see the familiar mail carrier that came a couple of times a week — a young boy lugging a bag that was far too heavy for him, and yet he always had a bright, vibrant smile on his face.

“Hello, Pen.” Dion smiled broadly at him. “Any letters for us?”

Pen smiled politely at you both, digging into his bag. “One for you, sir.”

You tried not to look disappointed — to not let your shoulders slump too obviously. Willow was the only person who regularly wrote to you since you’d arrived; you’d not heard from Linden once, and it seemed silly to expect to now. But so near to the Festival of Growth, when it was customary to send cards and letters of well wishes—

You so, so wanted to. Even if it were just a crumpled note in his messy scrawl that read “hello”.

You stood silently as Pen handed the letter to Dion, and Dion tipped him handsomely in return. The sight of the boy excitedly scuttling off would usually bring a smile to your face, but you couldn’t manage it…couldn’t force the corners of your lips to inch up.

“Did I mention,” Dion murmured, breaking the wax seal on the parchment, “that your sister has the prettiest writing I’ve ever seen?”

You turned to him, clearing your throat. “She does indeed.”

“Unsurprising, really, with how beautiful she is.” A smile grew on his face as he unfolded the letter, his eyes scanning the words. Four long, crammed pages for him to pore over.

You didn’t really feel like sticking around to watch. Not when you hadn’t received a letter yourself.

“I’ll leave you to read that in peace.” You said quietly, turning.

But Dion was stopping you, grabbing your hand gently. “Wait. I—” he cleared his throat. “I know it’s a bit…delicate…and I know you said there’s nobody that you’re interested in romantically, but…are you certain there’s absolutely no one?”

You stared blankly up at him. “Like who?”

“Like…” He studied you, chewing his lip. “…Well, like that Linden, maybe, or—”

“I told you, Dion. I have no one.” True. He couldn’t imagine how true that was.

You knew what his questioning was about — guilt, undoubtedly, that he had somebody and you didn’t. But if you felt his pity on top of everything else, you thought you may just scream.

“But—”

“You should take that back to your room and read it there,” you cut him off, nodding at the letter. “Before anyone catches you with it.”

His shoulders slumped — you had him there. And you’d probably feel bad for it later, for being so dismissive, but…right then, you needed to get away. You needed—

Needed to be away from him, and his feelings for your sister. And maybe that made you awful.

“Go on.” You forced a smile, stepping away. “Read it. Enjoy it.”

He opened his mouth, but you didn’t give him a chance to say another word as you strode quickly away, your boots crunching on the gravel. You headed straight for the trees without any real sense of direction, knowing you were seconds from breaking, begging your eyes to hold back the tears until you were shielded and hidden.

The first sob ripped from your throat as you pushed through the trees, tripping over roots and running into branches. You didn’t care that they scratched at you. Didn’t care as they seemed to reach out for you like they could sense your aching loneliness.

Tears were freely rolling down your cheeks by the time you’d broken into a run. And as your foot caught on another root sticking out of the ground, and you went stumbling to the forest floor, you gave up entirely.

Your palms broke your fall, becoming cut and grazed and muddy. And you did not care. Didn’t give a shit that your dress was becoming dirty as you scooted back and slumped against a tree.

Linden. You wanted Linden. He cared and loved you and—

Your head fell back against the tree trunk. And you…you gave up.

You cried. Even harder than you’d cried that night on the hunting trip. Even harder than you’d cried the night you’d found out you were arranged to be married to Dion Vanserra. Perhaps harder than you’d ever cried in your life.

You were so damn lonely. So sick of the life that hadn’t even come to pass yet. This was how it was always going to be — you, stuck in a loveless marriage. Knowing that your damn husband and sister wanted each other.

You buried into your hands, the sobs coming faster, harder, wracking through your body. You didn’t know how to make them stop, didn’t know if you even could—

“…Y/N?”

Footsteps slowed to a stop in front of you, a pair of brown boots appearing in your blurred vision. You squeezed your eyes shut, blocking out the looming figure. Buried your face into your hands.

“What the…”

You could do nothing but cry. And cry and cry and cry.

And then there was a pause, a slight beat with what felt like doubt, before the ground was shifting beside you.

Lucien’s scent hit you, pleasant and soothing, but even that wasn’t enough to break you from your state. Your entire body wracked with your sobs as you felt warmth pressing against your side. Lucien’s arm brushed yours as he tucked his legs in.

“What the hell is going on?” He asked. “Why are you—”

“I can’t do this.” The words tumbled from your lips, cutting his words short. “I can’t.”

The unprompted admission was met with a firm wall of silence. You didn’t even really know what you were talking about — just that you felt like you wanted — no, needed — to scream from the top of your voice. Your lungs. Shout words into the void and fucking cry.

“What can’t you do?” Lucien reached out, peeling your hands from your face. “Hey.”

“You don’t get it—nobody gets it—you can’t—”

“Don’t get what, Y/N?”

“I am so alone!”

Even through your tears, you caught the way he blinked at you, his shoulders stiffening.

As if…as if he’d wrongly assumed that all your bravado, your quick-witted responses, the walls you kept up, left no room for something such as loneliness.

But that made him clueless. Because loneliness was a cosmic force in your life. Behind those walls — who you were behind them, who you’d become — was one of the loneliest places in the world. The darkest.

And this seemed to stun Lucien into silence. Seemed to send him tumbling way out of his depth. He was like a deer caught in the headlights as your body heaved and shuddered, your cries both loud and silent, harsh and soft. And you wouldn’t, exactly, have blamed him if he got up and got the hell out of there—

But he just…sat back. Sat against that tree that was currently the only thing propping you up. His warm arm pressed against yours was the only sign that he remained there, at your side.

He just — just let you cry.

Didn’t tell you to suck it up, be stronger. Didn’t try to argue with your admission or your feelings. He just allowed it — all of it.

And so you did, also.

Allowed yourself to be leached of what was probably six-months-worth of emotional buildup. Maybe more. As if someone had turned a tap on in your brain, in your heart, the hurt and the anger and the confusion and the utter despair came pouring out of you. Despair for who you no longer were. Who you were now supposed to be.

And Lucien remained at your side throughout it all. Even as the sky changed over you, the daylight slipping away and turning the broad expanse above you a dull grey colour. Even though the evenings were chilly, and his ass was probably as numb as yours on that damn forest floor. He just sat with you. Let you cry. Let you speak words into the air that you’d stopped yourself from saying so many times.

It felt like it went on for hours. Days. Weeks. At one point, you wondered if you were even capable of stopping. Maybe you’d opened an endless vault of hopelessness, and maybe it was the worst thing you could have done—

But the cries did begin to peter out. Your tears did dry in silvery lines on your cheeks and redness around your eyes. Your body did cease its trembling.

It left you exhausted, your head utterly pounding, your skin freezing cold — but it stopped. And then there was just…silence.

Lucien tucked his knees into his chest; like he was moving just to remind you he was still there. He didn’t force you to speak. Didn’t ask you to look at him. He waited and waited — gave you room to cry some more, if you needed or wanted to.

But you didn’t. You were done-in, utterly spent. And when he seemed to realise that, he angled himself towards you. Pulled himself in tight and rested his chin on his knees.

“You okay?” He asked quietly.

You stared back at him for a moment. Just…stared, at the openness in his face. And then you nodded. “I’m okay.”

He, too, nodded. “Did something happen?”

Everything had happened — that was just the problem. Your life was no longer yours. You were no longer yours. That, amongst other things. All of which, you weren’t sure you had the energy to verbalise right then.

So you searched for something, anything, your eyes pinned forward once more.

“…I miss him,” you rasped.

Lucien seemed to pause. “Who?”

“Linden.” You shook your head to yourself, bracing it back against the tree. “I don’t think I realised what a…a constant presence he was in my life, until he no longer was. How much I relied on him. How much he helped me. But not just that — I miss our friendship. He understood me. He…he cared.”

You could feel Lucien’s eyes heavily appraising you. What he was searching for, you didn’t know. Nor did you know if he found it. You were too tired to mask anything at that point.

“You love him.” He said after a moment. Not a question. A statement.

“Yes.” You dipped your head. “I think…I think he was my first love. And not even in a romantic sense, just…a love that I needed. A lifeline.”

Whether it made sense or not, you were past knowing. But Lucien nodded all the same, some strands of hair falling loose from his ponytail and brushing his face. Silence fell once more as the two of you sat there in your thoughts.

The fact that he’d bothered to stick around this long…that he hadn’t run a mile from your emotions…it touched your heart more than he probably realised.

As if you needed any more cause to constantly think about him. To want him.

Your friend.

You cleared your throat. Wiped your eyes. Shifted on the ground. “Sorry — about this.”

Lucien’s eyes snapped to you. “You have nothing to apologise for.”

“You don’t have to stay here with me—”

“I’m staying.”

Oh. His tone brooked no room for argument. And it made you feel…warm, despite the cold setting into your bones. A kindness you hadn’t been prepared for, friends or not.

“I get it, you know?” He said quietly. “The loneliness.”

You turned to look at him; really look at him. And he stared back.

And you could see it in his eyes — that he did get it. You’d known, since meeting him, that he was a solitary person. Withdrawn. But you’d always assumed it to be by choice. Never…never something that rooted itself as deeply in his life as it did yours.

But you knew from experience that some of the harshest loneliness set in when you were surrounded by people. And Lucien let that show earnestly on his face. That he understood that gnawing disconnect that constantly accompanied your day-to-day life.

You didn’t need to say anything back to him. He got it, and so did you. He got you, and you got him.

You stared at him. He stared back. It seemed like ages passed of you studying one another’s faces. Reading each other’s expressions. Understanding what lay there.

And then Lucien’s brow furrowed slightly, a frown creasing his features — what had caused it, what he’d seen, you weren’t sure.

Nor did you ask, as he reached out a hand and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

Or when he leaned in.

You thought, for a moment, that he might kiss you — just like he had before. But instead of his mouth finding yours, he moved up.

His lips pressed a gentle, tender kiss against your forehead. So sweet and caring, you weren’t quite sure what to do with it. You stayed rooted to the spot as he pulled back and stared at you once more.

And he smiled. Warmly. Reassuringly.

And you smiled back.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Exhaustion, both physical and mental, dragged you under and allowed you to have the deepest sleep you’d had in a long while.

Your head still ached when you awoke, but your heart felt slightly…lighter. A little more at peace.

The hour was early, the birds only just starting to wake and sing. Darkness and silence still blanketed the estate, but you were wide awake, feeling like you wanted to…to go somewhere. Do something.

You spent a short while just gazing out of the window, watching the sky gradually lighten. Perhaps one of the best times to study the landscape, to watch the colours change and strengthen around you. No chaos, no people zipping back and forth on various different errands. Just stillness–

That was until you caught the subtle movement across the green. A dark shape moving near the barn.

You narrowed your eyes, watching as the figure moved. It took a moment for the growing light to catch the side of their face, and you were able to make out Lucien’s sharp, chiselled features. His lustrous hair that was tied in a knot at the nape of his neck.

You just…watched him. Watched as he opened the door to the stables. Watched his lips move as he spoke a soft greeting to the horses. You couldn’t help smiling to yourself.

Where he was going so early, you couldn’t imagine. You hadn’t been made aware of any plans, anything that would be drawing the Vanserras from the estate for the day. Nobody seemed to be joining him–

You weren’t exactly sure what you were doing as you shrugged on a robe. Pulled on your boots. All you knew was the pleasant knot of anticipation unfurling inside you. You wanted to see him. To talk to him.

You felt excited to. Which wasn’t exactly convenient, but…you didn’t give that much thought as you slipped out of your room and travelled the halls and corridors. Made your way downstairs and outside.

The fresh air bit immediately at your exposed skin, not at all protected by the flimsy robe or your nightgown. But still, you traipsed across the dewy grass, over to the stables, where a very soft, soothing voice came from inside.

You stopped in the doorway, your eyes landing on Lucien where he stood, brushing his mare and talking to her quietly. You smiled, almost didn’t want to interrupt, but as your body knocked against the door, he quickly looked up.

The small smile on your lips turned tentative as you stared at each other. It was certainly something strange to get used to…to adjust to – you and he being civil with each other. Being friends. You folded your arms around yourself, not quite sure how to approach it. Him.

“Hey…” Was all you were able to come up with.

Lucien’s eyes flicked over you. Your robe and nightgown. The boots. He looked like he was trying to bite back a laugh as he replied, “Good morning.”

Your cheeks heated slightly. You felt suddenly…stupid…having rushed down to see him like that. You shifted on your feet, looking around, searching for anything to say.

Your eyes snagged on a strange pile of what seemed to be sacks in the corner. Sacks that were full and bulging. Your brow furrowed. “Where are you heading this early?”

Lucien followed your line of sight, and it surprised you as his cheeks tinged with pink. He cleared his throat, seemed strangely…uncomfortable. “I was just…uh…”

You cocked an eyebrow, your lips twitching. “Is it a secret?”

“No–no.”

Your eyes swept over him. He was definitely blushing. Definitely embarrassed and up to something. Something to do with those sacks in the corner—

“You didn’t rob someone’s house, did you?” You said, amusement clear in your eyes.

Lucien gaped at you. And then snorted. “No, lady, I did not.”

Lady. He’d called you that before, but…it had always sounded somewhat condescending. Like he was mocking you. Now, however, it sounded…different.

It may have had your toes curling a little in your boots.

And that may have been pathetic.

“So you’re not going to tell me what’s in those sacks, then?” You tilted your head.

Lucien’s eyes shot to you before flicking away. He pretended to focus deeply on his horse as he murmured quietly. “Toys. Amongst other things.”

“Toys?”

He shrugged. “It’s not something I usually tell anybody, but…every year, around the Festival of Growth, I visit our poorer villages. Visit some of the families and give them food and supplies and any help they might need. And I give the children toys. I know it’s a bit of a futile effort, but…I can’t stand the thought of them going into a fresh harvest with…with nothing.”

Your entire body had locked up, gone still. All you could do was blink at him. Gawk at him like an idiot.

And such chaotic, inconvenient things were happening inside you at that moment. Things you had no control over, knew you couldn’t fight. Things that felt like light and dancing and the warmth of the sun.

“I try not to shout about it.” Lucien continued, not seeming to notice the preternatural stillness with which you stood as he readied his horse. “I don’t think my father would appreciate me spending his money on such things, but…the Mother knows, he has enough of it to spare. To put a smile on the faces of people in need.”

Gods, he was right. And good. And noble. And what a damn problem, that he was scattering all those misconceptions you’d had about him, like ashes to the wind. He may have misjudged you, but you’d misjudged him, too.

Your breath caught in your throat. It had been so much easier to breathe, to think, when he’d simply been an asshole.

Not a quietly noble male who used his spare time during the festival season to visit poorer families and give gifts to children.

Inconvenient, indeed.

You blinked out of your thoughts, clearing your throat. “You do that every year? Without any help?”

Lucien nodded matter-of-factly. “Just me. I don’t mind, though. I enjoy it.”

“Can I come? I mean – can I help?”

The words had just fallen from your lips. And you thought that he blinked at you, then, like it was the last thing he’d expected you to say.

“You want to come?” He asked.

Gods, yes, you did. You nodded. “I’d love to.”

He stared at you a moment longer. And then, just slightly, his lips seemed to curve upwards. He looked like he was trying to tamp down on the smile as he inclined his head.

“Go get dressed, then. I’ll prepare your horse.” He said. “...Be sure to wear something warmer than that little nightgown.”

Your cheeks burned, but you rolled your eyes, turning away from him. Excitement coursed through you, beautiful and airy – wondrous. You moved so fast, you almost fell over when you stopped abruptly in the doorway, looking over your shoulder.

Lucien was still watching you. His head fell into a tilt as your eyes met. “Yes?”

“...Thank you for yesterday.” You said. “I mean it.”

You didn’t wait to see how he’d respond. You turned, hurrying back towards the house – hot all over, despite the cold. Wide awake, despite the hour.

You felt…alive.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

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