#When the cherry trees bloom a love is born

[hiyuki]

ꕥ CHISATO ♡ TAKINA ꕥ

▷ Lycoris Recoil ▹ COMIC MARKET 101 Cover Art + My edition

[igbylicious]

marked [jwy x reader]

pairing: Wooyoung x gn afab reader (briefly feat. Yunho & background poly ot8)

rating: 18+

genre: smut, fluff, werewolf AU, found family

summary: Wooyoung is the newest member of your pack, and under tonight’s full moon you will claim him as your mate. (OR: Wooyoung knots for the very first time and you fuck him through it 👀)

wc: 8.1k

warnings: sub Wooyoung, dom alpha reader, reader is physically stronger than Wooyoung, predator / prey play, knotting, breeding kink, dacryphilia, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, unprotected vaginal sex, creampies, stomach bulge / cum inflation, biting & marking (w/ light blood mention), cunnilingus, face-sitting, cum eating, reader has a mild possessive streak, implied m x m, Wooyoung is called ‘good boy’ & ‘pup’, a sprinkling of hurt / comfort

a/n: @wooyoungisbaby asked me if i would turn Wooyoung into a werewolf & then i blacked out and suddenly there were 8k of words on my screen ฅV•̀ᴥ•́Vฅ

a/n²: idk how to put this in the warnings but werewolves have an estrous reproductive cycle in this fic, and there is an off-hand mention that the reader is not currently fertile. just to balance out my own ‘love breeding kink, squicked by pregnancy’ conundrum ^^

Sunlight trickles through the cherry trees overhead, a light canopy of pastel pinks looking down on you and Wooyoung. The gentle sunlight warms you with the glow of spring, a blossom swirling down the breeze to land right on Wooyoung’s nose.

He barely even notices, too busy fussing in your embrace. You’re curled up against his back, and your arms have him pulled into your chest, legs tangled together. There is a blooming tapestry of red marks on his neck; gentle indents of your teeth, slow bruises sucked into his delicate skin.

You blow the cherry blossom off his nose with a giggle, and the pink petal flutters down into the grass, luscious green brimming with white and yellow daisies. The flowers give off a pleasantly sweet waft but you are not interested in floral aromas, only in the alluring scent radiating from Wooyoung’s heated body.

You burrow your face into the crook of his neck, breathing in deep as Wooyoung whines in your hold.

“Easy, pup,” you coo at him, and lightly pinch his waist in warning. “Don’t want to wear yourself out before tonight, do you?”

“I won’t, I won’t,” he says, wiggling in your arms. He hisses when your teeth sink into the tender skin of his neck again, the noise morphing into a breathy, pitched moan as you lap at the bite. “Just wanna play…”

You giggle at his protests; Wooyoung is easily the most rambunctious pup you have ever dealt with.

Sometimes you find it most effective to fuck the misbehaviour out of him, to burn off all his frenzied energy as you ride him — or to make him wear himself out on your cunt, your fingers tightly wrapped in his hair as you hold him down, his mouth eager to please.

But sometimes, that feels like just a bit too much of a reward for his mischievous ways.

For those moments, you prefer your current strategy; to force Wooyoung into a cuddle, spooning him as you playfully gnaw on his neck and shoulder. If you hold him down long enough, his endless squirming will tire him out just the same as any other method. Wooyoung might be energetic — but he is a young pup, turned only four weeks ago, whereas you are a born wolf, and he cannot stand up against your superior strength.

It’s hard to believe he has been in your life for barely a year; Wooyoung was all alone in the world when you stumbled on him during a hunt; a lonely, pitiful creature with no-one else to turn to. Your wolf had demanded for you to grant him protection and you listened, never led astray by your canine instincts. You brought him into the pack, where your mates welcomed him with open arms.

At first, it was just a visit; so he could catch his breath, rest up and decide what to do next. But when Wooyoung decided to extend his stay indefinitely, he soon decided he wanted to be turned as well.

(If there’s one thing you quickly learned about Wooyoung, it’s that he never does things halfway. It was you and your mates who talked him into waiting for a while, until he was absolutely sure, but Wooyoung never wavered.)

You were the one to do the honours, pinning him down under the light of the full moon, your seven mates surrounding you in a wide circle. Wooyoung had seen you in wolf form before; he’d even napped while curled up against your huge lycan body, engulfed in dark fur — but it was never like this, never with your jaws snapping right in his face, clawed paws heavy on his chest as your scorching breaths fell down on his vulnerable, tiny figure. You were careful not to crush him, of course, but he needed to keep still; no matter how willing he was, a human’s instinct runs deep when a predator’s maw closes around their weak flesh.

Wooyoung was not immune to those instincts, and your chest ached when he cried out in pain at your bite. His hands pushed uselessly against your head, but you are strong even for a wolf; and the limited capacities of his fragile human body stood no chance against you at the height of your power, basking in moonlight.

You had lapped at his wound afterwards, easing him through his shakes as your saliva mixed with his blood, broken skin mending under your raspy tongue into a darkened scar as the first seed of his transformation took hold.

For four weeks now, Wooyoung’s body has been changing under the surface. It comes with restless agitation, giving him more energy and stamina than he knows what to do with, yet the process is also exhausting; a slow adjustment to his heightened senses, stronger muscles, an increased sensitivity to the presence of others — your presence especially, as the one who turned him.

And tonight is an important stage in Wooyoung’s lycan life; the next full moon. His first complete transformation, catalysed by the moon’s bright luminescence.

The reshaping of his human body into a wolf is a symbolic milestone, but it will also unlock Wooyoung’s full potential, allowing him to grow into his full strength. With time, he will even learn to transform regardless of the night sky — though only few werewolves are powerful enough to deny a full moon.

(You are, but you see little reason to ever deny the celestial body that has given you so much.)

Now, lazing in the sun together, you lap at the scar you left on Wooyoung’s skin that night. All your other bites always heal rapidly but this one lingers, and always will. You are eager for tonight, when you get to add a second permanent mark to him. To imprint on him as your mate.

Your neck and shoulders are already littered with the seven bites of your other mates, binding their spirits to yours, but there is always room for one more; especially if that one more is your Wooyoung, your playful, mischievous pup whose sensitive heart bursts with love and easy affection.

Of course, you have laid with Wooyoung long before tonight — as have your other mates. You always needed to treat Wooyoung like glass, knowing how easily you could break him; but Wooyoung never made it easy to hold back.

Loneliness had carved a deep, dry well in his chest cavity; never realising the depths of his emptiness until you and your mates submerged him in a lake of care and devotion, replenishing his marred soul. Hungrily, Wooyoung had taken anything that you felt safe to give him, while he freely gave back all he had.

These past four weeks, you have tested his limits together, watched how they stretched further and further as Wooyoung slowly grows into his powers — and tonight, you won’t have to hold back any longer.

“Wanna play…” Wooyoung whines again, and you follow his gaze to San and Mingi, who are laughing and rough-housing by the edge of the nearby brook, just down a gentle slope of grassland.

You hesitate, not wanting to let go of Wooyoung. But… are you still holding onto him just to keep him well-behaved? Long years of sharing your mates have taught you to recognise a possessive streak when you feel one, and the resistance against releasing Wooyoung from your arms feels awfully familiar.

Maybe it’s nothing but greed; your urge to trap Wooyoung in your arms, to flood yourself in his scent, to keep his neck littered with your bites.

You had found Wooyoung, you had turned him, and a primal instinct calls out from deep within you, to always remind the others that you claimed him for his first full moon.

But from somewhere deep underneath the possessive wolf, you know very well that it would do Wooyoung good to stay bonded with your other mates — his future mates. They will respect your claim.

You tip Wooyoung’s chin, lightly pecking his lips. “Promise to save some energy for me, my sweet pup,” you smile at him, and loosen your grip.

Wooyoung perks up when you release him from your hold — but instead of immediately bolting off to San and Mingi, he turns around in your arms to dive in for a deep, heated kiss. He sucks at your bottom lip, repaying your bites with one of his own. You yelp in surprise at his sudden passion, and Wooyoung giggles at the undignified noise, his laugh bright and filled with adoration.

“I will,” he breathes between kisses. “I’ve wanted this for so long.” His lips brush against your neck and shoulders, against the seven marks that he will join tonight. “Wanna be with you. So badly.”

“But first you wanna play,” you tease him, and lightly push him away, before your possessive nature takes over and you can never let him go ever again. “Go. They’re waiting for you. Just like I will.”

Wooyoung presses one final kiss to your neck, then lets himself be pushed away and joins San and Mingi. You watch them with an odd mingle of jealousy and joy; joy to see Wooyoung’s happiness with your other mates, jealous to see them without you.

It is a familiar maze to navigate; you are no stranger to possessive urges, yet you also feel blessed beyond measure that your mates love each other as much as they love you. The two feelings are in conflict yet forever intertwined; they are less two sides of the same coin, and more the sides of the same mobius strip; inherently connected, endlessly feeding into one another.

However, you are broken out of your musings by a gentle breeze from behind you. It brings a familiar scent that effortlessly tears the mobius strip in half, halting its flow through your emotions.

You turn around to see Yunho standing underneath one of the cherry trees, a few blossoms sticking to his dark hair and a faint smile on his face as he observes how the good-natured wrestling between San, Mingi and Wooyoung has turned into a rowdy cuddle pile. Yunho notices you looking at him, and he gives you a slow nod, eyes twinkling. You reach out a hand, beckoning him closer, and his smile deepens.

Yunho’s long fingers wrap around yours, never letting go as he sits down next to you in the grass. Immediately you take advantage of his proximity, wiggling yourself between his legs to curl up against his warm chest.

Yunho chuckles at your need for touch, loosely putting his arms around your waist. It’s a stark contrast to how you held Wooyoung earlier; Yunho does not fear the loss of you, resting in the tempered confidence from years of devotion. His mark on your neck is the oldest, and your eyes flutter shut as you luxuriate in the comfort of his scent, like earthy woods and petrichor. You didn’t realise just how badly you missed the grounding familiarity of him until right this second, and you sigh out in bliss, leaning deeper into him.

For just a moment, you let go of your possessive jealousy over Wooyoung — but Yunho does not.

“Gotta admit, didn’t think I’d see you separated from Wooyoung’s side anytime this month. Especially not today,” he chuckles, rubbing a lazy hand over your waist.

A self-conscious warmth flushes under your skin. Yunho does always see you clearest. “I got a little carried away, didn’t I?”

“No more than last time,” he says, a quiet laugh rumbling in his chest. “Or any time before. Remember Hongjoong? Yeosang? We practically had to drag you off of them to give those poor guys some peace and quiet.”

“I was taking care of them!” you huff, even if you know Yunho’s right.

“And you’re taking good care of Wooyoung now,” Yunho says, and he presses a soft kiss on your temple. “I’m not saying it’s bad — I’m so happy that we have Wooyoung now, really,” he murmurs, gathering you a little closer in his arms. “But… I did miss you these last weeks. Especially knowing there won’t be a hunt tonight…”

“Oh? You think you would’ve been the one to catch me?” you tease Yunho, poking his chest. “Confident, aren’t we!”

“Think I would’ve had a good shot,” Yunho says, grin widening.

A faint heat sparks inside you at his easy confidence, bringing back memories of how he earned that confidence over and over again. “I missed you too,” you admit, feeling apologetic. You had promised to lead your mates on a chase under the full moon again soon; but through your refusal to share Wooyoung with the others, you also stopped sharing yourself. “We will make up for time after Wooyoung has settled, I swear.”

“I know we will,” Yunho hums. “For now, keep taking care of our Wooyoung first. The pup needs you to get through tonight.”

You glance up at Wooyoung — but the first thing you see is San, who is face-down in the grass, yelping as Mingi and Wooyoung playfully got him pinned down; Wooyoung’s teeth are locked around San’s bicep while Mingi laughs, nipping at his mark on San’s neck.

“…Or maybe San is the one who needs you?” Yunho says, cocking his head at the chaos in front of him.

San laughs helplessly, resigned to his fate, until he realises they are being watched. He wheezes out a weak “help!” as he reaches out to you and Yunho, a desperate dimple poking at his cheek.

Yunho muffles a laugh with his hand, and gives you a sideways grin. “I’ll get Mingi, you handle Wooyoung?”

You grin back at Yunho. “Oh, I’ll handle him alright.”

The day’s warmth has cooled in the hours of dusk, but there is nothing to cool the blood pulsing through your veins, running hot with canine hunger. The wolf inside you is utterly transfixed on Wooyoung; your senses are growing ever more keen as the moon bathes you in her light, and the scent of Wooyoung is almost overwhelming now. His sweetness permeates the air so thick that you can taste him on your tongue; his excitement, his impatience, his need to be taken and claimed by his alpha. By you.

Wooyoung turns his head, eyes glittering darkly as they meet yours, an agitated energy crackling around him.

This is all new to him, you remind yourself. He does not know what to do with all these untamed impulses that pound against his chest and growl in the back of his head. You will teach him, show him exactly how to control the wolf, and how to let it run free. You will show him everything.

And Wooyoung may be a predator now, but you shall devour him all the same.

You stand together at the forest’s edge, but your gaze lingers on Wooyoung’s exposed collarbones, already contemplating where to leave your mating bite. Right next to the mark of when you turned him? Or do you want to cover as many different parts of him as you can? Both options are tempting in their own ways.

For now, you simply cup the back of Wooyoung’s head and pull him close so you can kiss your first mark on him. “Remember the clearing we picked out?” you murmur, tongue darting out over the old scar tissue. “Let’s make a race of it. You get there before I do, I’ll have a nice surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” Wooyoung says, his eyes shining with eager curiosity. “You’re on.”

Without warning, he bolts deeper into the forest, giving himself a generous head’s start as he leaves you behind. Your most rambunctious pup, for sure.

You grin, pleased at the challenge he gives you.

Just to give him fairer odds, you wait a little longer. You breathe in deeply as you pull the lingering scent of Wooyoung into your lungs, and clench your muscles, feeling your lupine power in just a simple contraction. You can still hear him in the distance, twigs breaking underfoot, the rustling of the underbrush. He is getting farther now, embracing his newfound agility; perhaps even thinking he stands a chance. You lick your lips at the thought, knowing how misguided it would be… then you leap into motion, starting your pursuit.

The wolf revels in this opportunity to show off its full power, and you dart through the woods with nimble swiftness. A faint cloud-cover hangs in the sky above, but the moon still pierces through to provide ample light. You do not need it, not with your keen senses guiding you; but for Wooyoung the illumination will surely be helpful to try and beat you to the clearing.

You can smell Wooyoung’s excitement in the air; you can hear him pant for breath as he pushes his body to new limits, fevered blood rushing through him with every pump of his heart, and his eagerness to outrun you feeds right into your own thrill of the chase.

Because for you, it’s not about whether Wooyoung beats you to the clearing.

For you, it’s about the hunt.

You are not as skilled a tracker as your other mates, but you don’t need to be. You know exactly where Wooyoung is going, and he is not subtle in making his way.

It does not take you long to catch up with Wooyoung, spurred on by your need to pounce on him, to finally claim what is rightfully yours. Wooyoung does not notice your presence immediately; he may be empowered by the moon same as you, but he is not as practised at making use of his gifts.

But when he does catch sight of you, your sudden proximity goads Wooyoung’s competitive spirit to new heights, completely unaware of the fact that he is not a competitor; he is prey. You revel in his innocent, breathless laugh, the lively spark in his eyes — eyes that widen when you lunge, right at him.

There is no real force behind your tackle, just playfully grabbing onto him to fall into a tumble together — then immediately release him. Wooyoung scrambles back on his feet, staring at you with wide eyes, his heart slamming against his rib-cage. His hair is in disarray, leafs and twigs stuck in the longish strands, a light scratch across his cheek.

“What was that?” he blurts out; miffed, but not entirely displeased. His scent easily gives that away.

“Better keep running, young pup,” you warn him, a light growl edging into your voice, lips curving to expose sharpened teeth.

Something about your grin causes a skip in Wooyoung’s pulse as he finally realises the true nature of your game. His human instincts have not yet faded entirely, a small bump of fear in his throat — but it is mere background noise in the heady waft of arousal that you catch in the air. Wooyoung is excited.

However, he is also not ready to submit to you, his rebellious spirit still burning strong. “Then you better keep up, old-timer,” he says, grinning right back at you.

He gives you no chance to respond to his taunt, dashing off through the woods again. Already Wooyoung is getting faster than before, and for a moment you indulge him again, letting him believe he is pulling ahead. The clearing is nearby; you can see it in the distance, cloud-cover pulling away to bathe the area in radiant moonlight, setting the forest aglow.

Wooyoung laughs in triumph at the sight; it is cute how confident he is of victory… but not cute enough to let him have it.

Again, you tackle him to the ground — and this time, you do not give Wooyoung an easy escape. He yipes, struggling on pure impulse as you wrestle him down, rolling over the rough forest until you pin down his arms and come to a stop, right on a soft patch of moss.

He whines and instinctively tries to throw you off him, but your grip on him is too tight. He stills when you drape yourself over him, breath scorching against his neck. The vein beneath your lips throbs.

“Surprise,” you whisper, and latch onto his throat.

Wooyoung cries out, back arching as he scrambles to grab onto your shoulders, hips jerking upward. He is hard against your thigh.

You draw a shuddering breath at how he squirms against your hold, exuding dizzying arousal from his pores. Already Wooyoung’s nails begin to elongate into claws, digging through your clothes to scrape at your shoulders. You giggle at his lack of control, allowing your teeth to sharpen as you nip at his jugular.

“Not so fast, my sweetling,” you say, trailing your mouth up to his jaw. “No need to rush. Let’s have some fun first.”

He shakes his head, eyes squeezed shut as he trembles, the beast within encroaching on his lucidity. “D-don’t know if I can—”

“You can,” you growl lowly, yanking his arms down to force them against the ground. “You will listen to your alpha, pup, and it’s not your time yet.”

Wooyoung whimpers in submission, tilting his head back as the wolf retreats with its tail tucked between its legs. You lap at the exposed skin of his neck to soothe the harshness of your reprimand, but it needed to be done.

Wooyoung is such an energetic pup; better he burns some of that energy now, to make his transformation easier to control. It’ll be hard enough on him as it is, and you will do anything within your power to smoothen the process.

Just lucky for you that the best way to help Wooyoung, is exactly what your own wolf calls out for; demanding for you to ravish Wooyoung until not an inch of his skin has gone untouched, to mark him as your own. To have him sink deep inside your waiting cunt, and take everything he has to give.

You press your mouth against his in a starved kiss, tongue delving past his willing lips as you pull and tear at his clothes, encouraging him to do the same with yours. Your fingers glide over Wooyoung’s chest, his stomach, his thighs, every part of him you can reach; never stopping the slow roll of your hips into his, hot mouth swallowing every moan wrested from Wooyoung’s throat by your aggressive worship.

His muffled keening makes your blood sing, but it is not enough, not nearly enough to sate you. You tear your lips away from his and Wooyoung whines at the loss, his moans free and loud and delectable.

Your wolf growls sweetly, pleased at Wooyoung’s shameless need for you, and for a moment you simply revel in his existence, his pretty noises, the pitiful way he writhes underneath you. You admire how his tanned skin glows under the moonlight, stars dancing in the reflection of his wide, dark eyes as he stares up at you in desperate reverence.

“Hmgh, w-want— want—” he babbles, a shimmer of unshed tears joining the vibrant constellation in his eyes.

You can’t help but marvel at how fortunate you are, to have found another beautiful mate to add to your devoted family. Your fingers play over his sharp jawline, his striking features merging together into such a pretty face. The face of someone who is so generous with his love and his mischief; using both to take care of his loved ones in all the ways they need — but first needing to be tamed himself.

“Hm? What do you want, Wooyoungie?” you purr at him, pushing away the tattered remains of clothes. His cock is hot and aching against your folds, but you don’t take him inside just yet. “Behave, and I might just give it to you.”

Wooyoung makes a tearful noise, grabbing at your waist and ass with sharpened claws. “Want you,” he whines, and you hiss at how his nails scrape at your skin. He tries not to scratch at you, but Wooyoung does not know his own body right now, struggling to comprehend both his limits and full capabilities. “Please, please, need you, it— it’s too much, I can’t—”

A thin sheen of sweat sets his skin further aglow, and his addled pleas slip deep between your ribs, appealing to the softer side of your wolf — with success. Because you are not only a predator; as an alpha, you are a caretaker as well.

And, looking at your sweet pup, whose lucidity is rapidly slipping through his clawed hands, who is frenzied and disoriented from what’s happening to him; perhaps ‘behave’ is too cruel a demand to make of him right now.

Gently you peel his hands off of you, and lift them to your lips to nip at his knuckles. “Breathe, my good boy, deep breaths,” you soothe him, rolling your hips a little firmer against his cock, giving him much-needed friction. “I’ll take care of you, don’t you worry.”

Wooyoung tries to follow instructions, drawing hitched breaths — but he chokes on a wretched groan when your hand wraps around the base of his cock, and guide him as you sink down with a blissful sigh, eyes fluttering shut. Your body is pliant for him, enveloping him in wet heat, and Wooyoung gasps with sharp, staccato moans as his hips jerk, body trembling. He claws at the moss underneath, leaving deeply etched trails in the dirt.

There is a subtle elongation in his joints, the faint crackling of bones and muscle shifting underneath skin as his veins grow more prominent. You bare your teeth, snarling lowly at his wolf to back off, but you know it won’t allow itself to be repressed for much longer. It’s almost time.

You rest your hands on Wooyoung’s chest to give yourself leverage, and start to move.

Wooyoung’s whines grow more animalistic by the second as you ride him hard and fast. He bucks up to meet your every thrust, pouring all his aggression into the slam of his hips. Your cunt twitches around his cock as he hits deep inside, a pleased growl rumbling inside your chest.

The forest is quiet around you, nothing but a soft rush of wind and rustling leafs; its inhabitants know better than to come near two wolves in their moon’s heat. Nothing except the sharp sounds of skin slapping against skin, of raspy moans and pleased snarls.

The heady smell of sweat and arousal mingles with the freshness of the woods, gentle moss and sweet blossoms. Slick leaks down your thighs and onto Wooyoung’s pelvis, and your own instincts become harder and harder to ignore with Wooyoung laying right there underneath you, flushed and splayed out over the forest ground with the vulnerable column of his neck beckoning for your attention. It’s too early for that, but still you drape yourself over him, slating your mouth over his in something that can’t decide whether it’s a bite or a kiss.

Wooyoung groans against your lips, so tightly wired he might snap at any moment. He is beyond desperate for a quick release of tension and you do your best to provide, relentless as you hump into his lap. His cock drags against your clit with every swerve of your hips, your thoughts becoming hazier with every spike of heat Wooyoung sends through you.

Unable to help yourself, your lips trail to his shoulder; the one unmarred by your other bite from turning him. You lap at the skin, exploratory grazes of your teeth as you kiss and suckle at Wooyoung until this side of his neck is completely reddened with bruises and faint teethmarks.

Wooyoung whimpers and snarls, his clawed hands back on your waist as he convulses underneath, the mounting pleasure just as overwhelming as his primal instincts. His skin is feverish, same as yours, sweat-slicked bodies coiled around one another, muscles rippling under the moonlight with brutal stamina.

Suddenly Wooyoung’s noises rise in pitch, and you can feel it before he can even slur the words out, tongue lolling in his mouth.

“F-fuck, it’s— It’s happening— I’m— I— mngh, ahh—”

He swells inside you and Wooyoung stutters out a broken cry when, for the first time in his life, his knot grows.

His jaw falls slack, voice stuck in his throat and tears brimming on his lashes. You tighten around him, hips forced to a halt by the swollen tissue at the base of Wooyoung’s cock, keeping him locked inside you as he shudders and floods your throbbing walls with white heat.

It’s enough to send you over the edge with him, his knot stretching you out and pressing just right against your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your vision whites out with a roar of static as your wolf slips out just a little further, and you sink your sharp teeth into soft flesh, breaking skin as you finally claim what is rightfully yours.

Wooyoung spasms underneath you, his arms trembling as he scrambles to hold onto you, every contraction of your walls draining him further.

Mindlessly, you mouth at the bleeding wound, uncaring of the metallic taste on your tongue as you encourage the skin to knit together into a scarred mark that will never fade. Your head is empty; all you know is to lap at Wooyoung’s tender neck, to grind into him with your limited movement, every instinct crying out to chase down your pleasure, demanding for Wooyoung to surrender all he has to you.

The predatorial haze takes over, and you don’t snap out of it until you taste a faint whiff of distress in Wooyoung’s whimpers.

“Ngh, ‘s too much— Ah, ahhhh, Alpha…” he calls weakly for you, his instincts in conflict with itself; the wolf needs to buck into you until his knot softens and he has nothing left to give — but those final remnants of the human still linger, desperate and overwhelmed by his own body’s hunger.

His distress shakes you out of your daze, leaving you to feel oddly unsatisfied and untethered. The mating is not yet finished; Wooyoung’s spirit tugs at yours but it is one-sided, incomplete. You are incomplete.

But you push your discomfort aside, knowing it is only temporary. You have been through this before; Wooyoung hasn’t. He needs you to be strong, to guide him.

You run a clawed hand through his hair and press a soft kiss on his swiftly healing mark. The bleeding has stopped already. “Do you trust me, sweet pup?” you ask, trying to sound gentle despite the roughened edge in your voice.

“Y-yeah,” Wooyoung sniffles, turning his head so he can nuzzle at your palm.

“You can do this, I know you can,” you reassure him, your thumb brushing over his cheekbone. “Been doing so well, my good boy, need you to be strong for me just a little longer.”

He nods shakily. “Oh-okay, hmnh, I trust you…”

Affection bubbles warmly in your chest, watching how Wooyoung tries to blink away his tears. Despite himself, he can’t stop his shallow rutting up into your cunt; his wolf knows he has yet more to give, won’t let him rest until he has spilled all his seed in your womb, safely stuffed inside by his knot.

There is no stopping this, and so you take him through it, as gentle as your canine impulses will allow; leading his confused body to pleasure with your hands and your mouth on his body, wherever you can reach, wherever makes him feel good.

Wooyoung follows easily, and soon his gasps and whimpers are sweet to your ears again; his body no longer confused. You stop holding back, sucking at his throat and clenching around his cock until he cums again, and again, sobbing and writhing in sublime torment as he generously fills you up, your stomach starting to distend from the sheer volume of his cum.

The shift inside him is gradual. His lupine side slowly grows louder, more demanding, until it is powerful enough to endure the onslaught on his senses. Wooyoung’s whimpers turn to low growls, gritted teeth sharpening into fangs, and a jolt of excitement sears through you.

It is time to bare your neck to him.

You tightly wrap yourself around Wooyoung and overturn the two of you, landing on your back so Wooyoung is on top of you, your legs locked around his waist with him still buried deep inside your wet cunt. Wooyoung yipes, disoriented by the sudden change, but groans deeply when you tangle a hand through his hair, yanking him to where you need him.

Wooyoung shudders as he breathes you in, mouthing at your neck and shoulders, tongue lavishing at the seven marks already there like he can taste your mates (his future mates) through them. He never stops his shallow, clumsy rutting, grinding his pelvis hard into your clit, his knot pressed against your walls.

Your breath hollows at the constant friction, panting at how he tongues your skin, honing in on his chosen spot. Your hand tightens in his hair, pressure building in your stuffed belly.

“Do it,” you rasp, voice hoarse from exertion and your own impending transformation. “Almost there, my pup. Do it, claim me.”

Wooyoung needs no further encouragement, budding fangs sinking into your shoulder, right next to Yeosang’s mark. Euphoric pain bursts through you as he bites down, still humping mindlessly in pursuit of more, more.

You mewl as tension coils and sings through you, every sensation intensified in the heat of the joining. Entangled in body and spirit, fierce desire spilling over into one another as the mating ritual is completed with a forceful rush of ecstasy. You clench around Wooyoung as the heat washes over you, clamping down on his thick knot with a ragged moan. Wooyoung snarls into your shoulder when your walls tighten around his cock, shuddering with yet another release as you pull him into freefall with you, a weightless plunge into searing pleasure.

Wooyoung trembles above you, his body shaking violently as he twitches and spills ever deeper inside your cunt. Humming with gratification, you press his hand against the swell of your stomach, to let him feel how he has filled you up. Wooyoung groans, careful not to dig his claws into your belly, still shaking.

His fangs finally detach from your injured flesh — and he immediately collapses on top of you, worn out from the mating and from cumming inside you so many countless times.

You breathe hard, putting your arms around Wooyoung’s collapsed body. For a moment you think he has passed out completely… but then you feel his raspy tongue on your skin, tiredly lapping at the fresh bite on your shoulder to try and encourage the wound to close up and heal into his mark, binding you together. Your body does not really need Wooyoung’s help, your innate regenerative powers more practised than his own, but you still burst with fondness at his care; pushing through his exhaustion to tend to you.

(You truly are so very lucky, to have found this mate.)

Wooyoung can’t possibly have much more left in him; but his wolf is not done with him yet. You can tell clearly from his scent and, more significantly, from the way his knot has not begun to soften yet.

Your lycan instincts roar at you to keep fucking Wooyoung, to drain him completely empty so he can breed you — but you repay his kindness, tending to him first.

Carefully, you gather Wooyoung in your arms, lifting him as you get up on your feet. He whines, his trapped cock twitching tiredly at the change in position. You are a little shaky from your own exhaustion, from holding your instincts down, but Wooyoung feels light as a feather under the power of the full moon.

You carry him to a sheltered spot right at the base of a cherry tree, where blossoms slowly flutter to the ground in a gentle breeze. There you find slight cover from the moonlight, and you know he can transform here with as much comfort as is possible.

Still careful, you lay Wooyoung down to straddle him again. He is whimpering, thick tears glistening on his cheeks, and a sweet satisfaction rumbles in your chest at the sight. You bend down and indulge in the taste of his flushed, salty skin with sweeping strokes of your tongue, the wet muscle slowly elongating as the full moon’s peak draws closer.

You don’t have much time left, so you slowly continue the shallow roll of your hips, mouth trailing down his neck to suck soothingly at his fresh mark. Your hands run up and down his chest, clawed fingers lightly scratching over his dark nipples.

“We’re not done yet, my sweet,” you hum in his ear, nipping at the lobe. “Gonna take all you have to give, make you stuff me full until I’m leaking around your knot, until I’m well and bred. Wouldn’t that be perfect, hm? My little pup giving me pups of his own.”

Your estrous cycle is not in its fertile phase right now, but that makes the thought of carrying Wooyoung’s litter no less sweet. How he would dote on his little ones, spoiling them rotten when he’s not busy trying to fuck more into your womb.

The thought stirs you up as much as it does Wooyoung; he snarls through his cries, bucking his hips in a futile attempt to flip you back over. You growl back at him in challenge, daring him to try. Making him waste all his excess energy as you ride him for a few final spurts of his seed until he cums dry inside you.

Wooyoung still whines and squirms, but it’s getting weaker and weaker, and his cock finally softens. It won’t be long before his knot follows, and you shower his teary face with tender kisses during the wait. You squeeze around him just one more time, unable to resist teasing a last whine out of your new mate.

He is completely worn out, just as you intended, moaning hoarsely when his knot gradually softens, a translucent trickle escaping past it onto Wooyoung’s lap. He makes a noise between relief and regret when you let his cock slip out, grabbing at your hips to keep you close.

Fur is starting to stand on his knuckles, and you huff in amusement when you realise he is pulling your hips forward while wiggling down himself, trying to get your thighs in his face.

“Greedy pup, haven’t I tired you out enough?” you lovingly chide him, pinching his cheek. You had anticipated for increased stamina, but his vigour goes beyond your expectations; you can only imagine what waits for you as he grows and settles into his full powers in the months to come.

Wooyoung grates out a low whine, an inhuman noise while the beast encroaches further onto his mind and body. “H-hungry…”

It can do no harm, you suppose, and you are never one to tell Wooyoung ‘no’ when he wants to sate his appetites on your cunt. So you indulge, allowing him to nuzzle at your soft thighs, smearing his cheeks with sticky arousal.

Tiredly he laps at your juices and the steady trickle of seed leaking from your cunt, his hand pressed on your belly. The bulge is less prominent without his cock and knot stuffing you full, but there is still a faint swell of his cum, amplifying the curve of your stomach.

You growl lightly at the lazy swipes of his tongue, leaving tingles of pleasure in its wake that are just enough to stir arousal but not enough to lead to a final release. Your own hunger snakes its eager tendrils through your veins, and you tangle a hand in Wooyoung’s hair to steer him, his mouth on your weeping hole and nose on your swollen clit.

He groans at your unspoken demand, fingers digging into your thighs as he slurps noisily and lets you use him freely for your needs. His tongue grows thicker as it elongates inside your velvet heat, and your grip on Wooyoung’s hair tightens with a sharp moan at the coarser texture against your walls, plunging as deep as it can reach.

You shudder and snarl, eyes squeezed shut in the chase for another high, closing in on your quarry with ease. Heat spikes in your core and fresh slick gushes onto Wooyoung’s long tongue as your thighs clench around him, like jaws snapping around their prey.

Panting hard, you ride it out against Wooyoung’s eager face, nudging his nose against your clit — but then the full moon reaches her highest point in the night sky, and Wooyoung cannot deny her any longer, even if you tried to keep him in line. But you don’t try, instead heeding the moon’s call same as him.

You shake off the unsteadiness from your orgasm best you can, and lift yourself off Wooyoung’s face to turn him around onto his elbows and knees, from where he claws at the moss and dirt around him, carving deep gashes into the dirt as his muscles and bones stretch and reshape themselves with loud, visceral noises.

Wooyoung is completely exhausted, so fucked out that he has barely any strength to fight the transformation; no human resistance left in him to make the process more painful and drawn out. Still, you hastily shift into your own wolf form, changes rippling through your body with a swift smoothness from countless moons of experience. It comes as natural to you as breathing, the enormous hulking mass of your canine body as familiar as your human shape.

You use your massive bulk to tower over Wooyoung, mounting his convulsing body to keep him restrained. Your maw gently but firmly closes around the nape of Wooyoung’s neck to calm him, partially shifted and covered with dark fur.

He spits out yowls and other animalistic noises as he changes underneath your, scrambling for purchase as hands and feet make place for clumsy paws. Wooyoung’s body swells in size, pushing against your larger form, but you stay firmly mounted until Wooyoung has completely slipped into his wolf and his shakes have subsided, slowly quieting down.

A hush falls over the forest in the wake of Wooyoung’s very first transformation.

Even you find yourself struck with awe as you clamber off of him, recognising the honour of being his witness. His crumpled form still breathes heavily, and you nudge your muzzle at his chest to help him upright, steadying him on his four legs.

Your sharp eyes take in his appearance with wonderment and admiration. Wooyoung is slightly undersized for a wolf, but with strong limbs and a beautiful shining coat, dark with conspicuous streaks of grey across the lines of his canine face. His eyes are a striking gold, long tongue lolling out of his mouth as he looks back at you with what you recognise to be a grin.

He yelps playfully and without further warning, roils back and pounces at you.

The following scuffle is embarrassingly short; he whines when you pin him yet again, but the sound is pleased, like he’s gotten exactly what he wanted. You huff a rumbling laugh of sorts and bend down to drag your tongue over his snout, overwhelmed with affection for your boisterous pup — no, wolf.

You throw your head back, and a deep howl echoes through the forest. Wooyoung joins you in a lupine duet, and it is not long before your other mates respond to the call with their own voices from elsewhere in the woods, knowing they have been summoned.

Mere minutes pass until they find you in the clearing, small groups of twos and three emerging from the cover of the forest.

You watch how they approach Wooyoung and sniff at each other; your mates are meeting Wooyoung for the first time all over again, while Wooyoung perceives them in greater depth, enriched by his wolf’s perspective.

Wooyoung basks in the attention, ears perked up and tail wagging adorably; your pup may have grown into a wolf, but he is not quite a predator yet. Seonghwa takes the last turn to reacquaint himself with Wooyoung, and immediately tries to groom his future mate, nipping at his fur — but Wooyoung has no patience to keep still, his energy renewed and bursting at the seams from his metamorphosis.

He slips away from Seonghwa and decides to test his newfound powers again with another playful pounce — targeting Jongho this time. Jongho, among the very strongest in the pack, predictably snorts and bucks Wooyoung off him with ease, retaliating within the blink of an eye.

Just like that, you and your mates spent the night together with playfights and chases, with long peaceful interludes where you are curled up against each other in a large pile of paws and fangs and fur, napping and grooming one another. You do not nap however, tireless under the moon and from the exhilaration of your new connection to Wooyoung, who whines affectionately as you lick at his face and lock your jaws gently around his muzzle.

As the night draws to a close, you lead Wooyoung away from your other mates, who seem to instinctively understand your needs. They let you have this one last selfish impulse, to keep Wooyoung for yourself again when he changes back.

You lay pressed together in the grass at the edge of the forest, blossoms scattered around you, watching the sun come up in the distance after the moon has shied away.

The transformation back to one’s human side is much easier, especially after a fulfilling night like this. The wolves have been sated, willing to rest until they are called upon again. It’s not long before Wooyoung’s naked human form rests next to you, half draped over your own body as he nuzzles at the fresh mark on the junction between your neck and shoulder.

“Are you alright, my pup?” you hum at him, gently carding your fingers through his dishevelled hair. Your skin tingles at the press of his lips against his bite.

“‘M not a pup anymore,” he mumbles against your shoulder, childishly petulant but, strictly speaking, not wrong either.

You breathe out a laugh at his grousing. “Of course, you big strong wolf,” you tease him, “but you are still my good boy, right?”

Wooyoung raises his head, dark eyes glittering in the budding sunlight with an unexpected solemnity in his expression. “Always,” he says, and rubs his nose against yours. “That’s what this means, right? I never have to leave now?”

You swallow down a sudden lump in your throat, resolving yourself to never stop pouring your care and affection into the deep well of Wooyoung’s heart. To make sure he never feels the need to ask that question ever again.

“You could have stayed no matter what. This pack is your home now, whether you are our mate or not,” you press on him, foreheads touching, “…but no, you never have to leave.”

Wooyoung’s worry fades at your reassurance — and makes way for a crooked grin as he cheekily bites his lip at you. “Would you hunt me down if I tried?”

With a good-natured growl, you flip Wooyoung onto his back and sit on his thighs, hands pushing his shoulders down. “Every single time,” you rasp. “We all would, all eight of us. You’d never stand a chance.”

Wooyoung draws a shaky breath, and you are amused to feel him twitch against your cunt. Seriously?

“All eight of you,” he sighs out, almost wistfully. “Doesn’t feel real yet, that you are my mate now. Tonight… tonight was just… yeah. Wish it never ended.” He tiredly grins up at you. “And I got seven more times waiting for me.”

He giggles, clearly not complaining about the prospect, and cranes his neck to reach up for a light kiss. You meet his lips halfway, deepening the kiss with just a touch of possessiveness at the mention of the other mating rituals.

It’s that inherent contradiction once again; even if your possessive streak is fading now that your mating bite clearly stands out against Wooyoung’s skin, a faint echo still rings through you, urging you to keep him to yourself — but you also revel at the prospect of witnessing how Wooyoung accumulates seven other marks next to yours, tightening his bonds into your family until you are one great whole.

It’s the latter emotion that asserts its dominance right now, your wolf humming contently at the thought of you and your family engulfing Wooyoung with such fierce devotion that he will always know that he belongs.

“Seven times,” you promise him in a hush, pecking his lips again, “and then a lifetime more to come.”

[pinchinschlimbah]

Flower imagery in Kyo's lyrics - a comprehensive list

mostly taken from the DEG Wiki translations, if there's anything important I've missed or could be translated better please let me know!

--- "Together with the flower of illusion Inside the flower of illusion" Masquerade - Genkaku no Hana (1995) ""Cross"　"You"　The roses that gave light crumble." La:Sadie's - Kakou to Genjitsu… (1996) "Our encounter turns to flowers Our encounter and ironic parting…" La:Sadie's - Kuroi Namida (1996)

"The bouquet of flowers is blooming... The heart is rotten, the middle of an ugly tragedy... Atonement is a flower" La:Sadie's - Zetsudan (1996) "At the end that stings with poison, the flowers wither and the body ... A transparent future, a false world ..." La:Sadie's - Objectxxx (1996) "The prettiest flowers will be the poisonous ones (Those eyes I loved so, became abusive ones)" La:Sadie's - Shoukei Hatan Sekai (1996) "The flowers we grew together back then Now bloom in profusion beautifully by your side" Dir en Grey - Kiri To Mayu (Missa version) (1997) "I sprout my seeds into your garden, But the red, wet bud shall not bloom." Dir en Grey - Kiri To Mayu (If...trans version) (1997) "Those days that seemed so lovely, the poisonous flower garden" Dir en Grey - Erode (1997) "Always standing still in that garden, looking lonely You were watching only the falling flowers" "GARDEN I wished that one day I could meet you Always GARDEN In this season that will pass, forever… You… The sad flowers that are going to wither have seen thousands of nights, Your figure reflected in sepia" Dir en Grey - Garden (1997) "Like a poisonous flower I will show you how I bloom And I'll become a flower that will bloom once again" "And as our love crumbles I bloom with the flowers in a riot of colors" Dir en Grey - Jealous (1998) "An unreality was born within a flower OUTSIDE HUMAN VOICE" Dir en Grey - Unknown…Despair…a Lost (1998) "The bouquet of love that you gave me was a bouquet shaped from poison" Dir en Grey - I'll (1998) "From the window, I can see the cherry blossoms blown by the wind as usual. They are falling slowly, slowly, slowly, slowly, just like dancing." "I know my life will end here alone in this room. Flowers nobody can find… The flowers hurry to fall, shaken by the spring wind. The wind is also blowing into the white room of the hospital." "I'll become ash and return to the dust tomorrow. I see cherry blossoms from the window, I want to rest beneath the tree. I'm in your arms holding me with your love. I'm quietly taken from room 304. To never forget about you. I'll remember you shaking with the cherry blossoms when the wind blows." Dir en Grey - 304 Goushitsu, Hakushi No Sakura (1999) "Put together the days of pain in asphalt. "bury" If you pray by crossing yourself, the asphalt will be filled with poisonous flowers." Dir en Grey - Mask (1999) "I'm a dying flower, but I want to be in bloom just one more time, just like before." Dir en Grey - Akuro No Oka (1999) "The divine wind turns into wind And disappears into the dark Blooming in the night of our reunion The shape of the lilies The divine wind turns into wind Blooming in the night of our reunion The light of the fireflies and the lily flowers" Dir en Grey - Hotarubi (1999)

"Sucking the honey, you who loved the flowers Don't notice me as my beak comes at You blooming all over with foie gras and escargot" Dir en Grey - Macabre (2000) "Turn into a flower, turn into a butterfly and prick me with your poisonous thorns" Dir en Grey - Audrey (2000) "Getting hurt, hurting each other People hide their wounds But I will overcome mine　 And my wounds will turn into beautiful flowers" Dir en Grey - Taiyo No Ao (2000)

"In your room I put one of the flowers you used to love so, now…The light silently dyes the center of the city white The last seasonal color that you saw I shed tears　Reality is a cruel thing, isn't it?" Dir en Grey - Ain't Afraid to Die (2001)

"I am speechless as the sorrow sinks in The flowers die away I am alone" Dir en Grey - Embryo (2002)

"This is the garden of suicide. Are you having fun? Will my dreams come true at that garden?" Dir en Grey - Audience Killer Loop (2003)

"It's a garden with no pulse." Dir en Grey - Shukubeni (2003)

"Flowers bloom and flowers fall, but a flower is as it is a flower." Dir en Grey - Sajou No Uta (2003)

"In the room, on the red wall hang Rosalyn, and the scent from the petals of the flowers fills the room but you are not here." Dir en Grey - Red...[em] (2003)

"I reminisce under the late afternoon sky of the pressed flowers I miss so dearly." "One cold evening I saw her as she stood under the Cherry blossom tree, with petals that bloomed too early." "She couldn't do anything but cry as her tears bloomed like the petals." -Dir en Grey - Drain Away (2003) "The snake makes way through the sheets and goes inside the uterus. It can seem like a Yoshino cherry tree; a cherry blossom petal, that dances sadly." Dir en Grey - Obscure (2003) "And it blooms and blooms, the flower that bloomed The crazy bloomed blood makeup" Dir en Grey - Fukai (2003) "Again you reach out and ants gather around the lily under the sun" Dir en Grey - Saku (2004) "The ashes are like flower petals that rise up to the sky" Dir en Grey - Itoshisa Wa (2005)

"I hate the song game of counting petals" Dir en Grey - Garbage (2005) "Even loved ones scatter like petals from flowers in my hand So even if I engraved the meaning that I lived in my hand, it will only be known as flowers of vanity" "Let's bloom flowers of attempted suicide…………………." Dir en Grey - The Final (2005) "When the seasons come and winter sleeps, I will come visit with flowers" Dir en Grey - Higeki Wa (2005)

"Welcome to the garden of destruction" Dir en Grey - Clever Sleazoid (2007) "I carve into my heart the sins And I live on dying The sakura blossoms on my wrist" Dir en Grey - Red Soil (2008) "Spring blossoms and the petals fall, giving life to the river Swaying from side to side, where will you go?" Dir en Grey - Glass Skin (2008)

Dir en Grey - The Blossoming Beelzebub (2011) [no floral references in the lyrics but listing here for the title]

"A mistake won't change one's way of life Be proud and let the pure white lotus blossom" Dir en Grey - Lotus (2011)

"Feel it? The breeze in the field The water reaches the heart and it gives life But the bud that sprouts… is trampled on again" Dir en Grey - Diabolos (2011) "So, let us swear for ourselves tomorrow, go on No More No Goodbye, from the death of the blossoming flower" Dir en Grey - Akatsuki (2011) "The ant lion searching for the light The lost heart always looks to the future as the flowers of lycoris sway" Dir en Grey - Vanitas (2011) "Joining hands with the flower that's lost its' way Don't want to forget the vagrant past" Dir en Grey - Ruten No Tou (2011)

"Using legs as stems in this flower arrangement" "A moment of joy is like a single flower's life" Dir en Grey - Kiri To Mayu (Rinkaku single version) (2012)

"Those are the kiku flowers placed for the accident, that we're suppose to forget in a timely manner" Dir en Grey - Hydra -666- (2012) "Falling in love with a flower, you suck and suck on the sweet honey You don't even notice me Fangs out I bloom ablaze with love towards the escargot and foie gras that you are" Dir en Grey - Macabre (Unraveling version) (2013)

"You're gone The world without you The lily is not worth it" Dir en Grey - Soshaku (2014)

"Let the flag of our home country blossom" Dir en Grey - Midwife (2014)

"Counting the flower petals that burst out from this unstoppable way of life If it's going to break then … you understand right?" Dir en Grey - Magayasou (2014)

"You'll get used to it Are you used to it? The bouquet placed by the road laughs" "Prayers pile up If it scatters it means it's precious The bouquet no one tries to see taught me I stared at the future" Dir en Grey - Behind a Vacant Image (2014) "there is no evidence behind those righteous words the blood-hungry beast hides inside the wide-opened mouth for whom is this garden for?" "to the garden beyond reach where you sleep" Sukekiyo - Elisabeth Addict (2014) "let the fear take over and get out of control the garden blooms in the color of flesh come here, come here" Sukekiyo - Latour (2014) "it dances tranquility comes when i see the fluttering flower with you" Sukekiyo - Aftermath (2014) "i hate you more than anyone else hydrangea for whom will you get wet for?" Sukekiyo - Scars Like Velvet (2014) "To the garden of love If you want to be heard, let's see you start crying now" Sukekiyo - Foster Mother (2015) "Repeating the words like a favorite phrase Words bloom" Sukekiyo - Maniera (2015) "Having a guilty conscience is like a pretty garden at the end of happiness" Sukekiyo - Mimi Zozo (2017)

"Spring, let me go. Every time it blooms Even I am able to forgive by having at least one thing beautiful" Dir en Grey - Aka (2018)

Dir en Grey - Ranunculus (2018) [floral reference is the title, which is repeated throughout the song]

"The clown danced like crazy and made it bloom The flower was indeed very very beautiful" Dir en Grey - The World of Mercy (2019) "Welcome to the flower garden that's now turning into the bed for evil spirits of mountains and rivers Repeat the process, insert then pull" Sukekiyo - Guuzou Moratorium (2019)

"The reserved flower garden, D.T.C.T" Sukekiyo - Kou mo Chigau Mono Nano ka, Yousuru ni (2019) "The flowers seen thru the lens See the dream without hesitation Stripping as the world opens wide" Sukekiyo - Sesshoku (2020) "You say that everyone goes through it But I don't know enough about love to compare The scar will turn into a beautiful flower" Sukekiyo - Candis (2021)

"The heart grows the lotus The infinite expansion of heaven is righteous" Dir en Grey - Schadenfreude (2022) "If you look down the 13 flight of stairs, the flowers bloom I change To whose intention?" Dir en Grey - 13 (2022) "An empty room The flower garden blooms in the field Let's make the sound of love as I think of you" Sukekiyo - Scarlet (2022) "Even though it started With a small bud The more the wish overwhelmed, the more it made me feel empty Only the love　Yes, only the love Changes me And it makes the Margaret bloom The color fades and turns into tears The wish to lose my words Sings in the spring Swaying back and forth Making the petals scatter" Sukekiyo - Margaret (2023) "The withering flower, wanting to bloom beautifully like back in the day, just one more time" Dir en Grey - Akuro No Oka (19990120 version) (2024)

[tamayula-hl]

Headcanon about Sebastian and my mc, Sakurako

NOTE ･Sakurako is a Mary Sue-like character with an unrealistic personality. Reading is not recommended if you don't like Mary Sue-like OCs! ･It's very long. To be honest, all the descriptions of Sakurako are nothing more than a product of complacency for me. I am a little embarrassed to disclose my headcanon, which is filled with these particular settings and delusions...😳 ･Read from the top right in Japanese manga style. ･And again, please bear with my poor English🤣

Until admission to Hogwarts

In 1875, Sakurako was born into a former samurai family when the cherry trees (sakura) were in bloom. In Japan, the samurai society was abolished around 1868 and the samurai were forced to take the status of commoners. Sakurako's samurai-turned-commoner father became a successful trader and took young Sakurako and his family to Britain to get serious about the raw silk trade with Britain. (At the time, there was a thriving raw silk trade between the British and Japanese.)

Her father, who had a male-dominated mindset due to his birth in a samurai society, restricted her from academic opportunities that she did not need for a better marriage. Whenever she went out of the house, local children always made fun of her yellow skin. One day, after such a depressing life, with the sudden awakening of her magical powers, Sakurako received her Hogwarts acceptance letter and became a member of the Wizarding World, a place free of sexism and racism, where she had a fateful meeting with Sebastian and formed a warped love with him.

During the relationship quest with Sebastian

In my personal opinion, I consider Sebastian to be a very calculating character. Sebastian initially comes into contact with Sakurako as a means of breaking Anne's curse. Sakurako takes an early liking to the boy, Sebastian, who is very kind and helpful to her in her first time in the wizarding world, but it is around the 'In the shadow of the study' quest that Sebastian begins to take a liking to Sakurako. Having grown up watching her parents become arrogant new rich through their success in the trades, Sakurako has a desire to be a good person who is not conceited by her talents and luck. Impressed by the fact that the wizarding world is free from sexism and racism and that everyone treats her with openness, Sakurako is so excited that she takes on any request from anyone without refusal. Sakurako feels threatened by Sebastian's obsession with the relics after "In the shadow of the study", but she can't refuse Sebastian's request and continues to cooperate with him. Then came the tragedy of 'Avada Kedavra'.

After all is over, Sakurako realises how stupid she has been. She continued to help Sebastian (and the other students) out of kindness and goodwill, but as a result she realised that she was not a good person, but an arrogant monster with no sense of right and wrong. Sebastian's mistakes were all her fault, and she blamed herself from this moment until her death, and she would have lifelong thoughts of 'rewinding time and starting all over again'. Sakurako was deeply in love with Sebastian at this point, but out of remorse she tried to distance herself from him. However, Sebastian forcefully continued to contact Sakurako, confessed his fondness and they began dating.

About relationships

Elsewhere, Sakurako had established a friendship with Anne over a number of correspondence until tragedy struck, which was disrupted by Anne's disappearance after Solomon's death. In my headcanon, Sebastian heard the news of Anne's death in the seventh year, and Sakurako was also deeply saddened and even more remorseful when she heard of her death. Sakurako kept Anne's letters and the last letter she was unable to send to Anne for the rest of her life.

Subsequent relationship with Sebastian Since she and Sebastian have been seeing each other, Sakurako has been constantly worried that the love Sebastian has for her is not genuine love, but an obsession caused by the confusion and trauma of losing Anne. She was aware that their relationship was codependent, not healthy love, yet she spent her days loving Sebastian so much that she could not reject him. She dreads every day that one day Sebastian's love will disappear and he will instead resent her and saying 'Solomon's death was your fault'. When she is in the seventh year and thinking seriously about her future life, she finally decides to break up with Sebastian.

When Sebastian realised that Sakurako was acting strangely and that she wanted to break up with him, he asked her to marry him in The Great Hall at a crowded time, in front of many people watching, in a situation where she could not say 'no'. As per Sebastian's cunning intentions, Sakurako is unable to reject Sebastian and becomes engaged to him. However, even after her engagement, Sakurako's insecurities were not exhausted. Worried that she would never be happy even if she married him in an unhealthy codependent state, Sakurako finally came to her senses and, after secretly returning the engagement ring in Sebastian's bag after the graduation ceremony, disappeared without saying anything to him. Sakurako then went to Japan and spent her days learning about Japanese native magic, which she had long been interested in. However, after about a year, she is discovered by Sebastian. After Sebastian apologises for how selfish he had been, he asks Sakurako to marry him again. After a few days of deliberation and discussion with Sebastian, Sakurako accepts his engagement with a smile.

(This is an Illustration I drew for a previous Twitter post introducing the MC's image song) Afterwards, Sakurako returned to Britain and officially married Sebastian, giving birth to their first daughter the following year, and then to male and female twins the year after that.

About the death of Sakurako Sakurako became Unspeakable of the Department of Mysteries shortly after returning to Britain. https://harrypotter.fandom.com/wiki/Department_of_Mysteries#Early_history It is official canon in the Wizarding World that the Department of Mysteries conducted time travel experiments in the 1890s and then had a serious time accident in 1899. I have built on this canon to create a head canon in which Sakurako dies in 1899.

Ever since the tragedy of 1890, Sakurako had been harbouring a wish to 'go back in time and do it all over again so that Sebastian would not make the same mistakes'. Then, she is asked by the other Unspeakables to help them with a time travel experiment using her ancient magical powers. She understands that it is a dangerous experiment, but with a strong desire to redo the past, she accepts the request and takes part in the experiment.

Then one day in 1899, Sakurako was involved in a time accident with Madam Mintumble and her existence was lost. The Department of Mysteries determined that she had died in the chasm of time.

When Sebastian heard the news of his wife's death, he despaired violently, but had no time to grieve as he had the three young children Sakurako had left behind to look after. He vowed to raise them well on his own. After his wife's death, Sebastian, who had been active in the outside world as an Auror, moved inside work and, after the twins entered Hogwarts, became a Professor of Charm, watching over his precious children as they grew up.

The consequences for Sebastian and Sakurako I consider an even more specific headcanon for Sakurako: 'She survived only her soul by the power of an ancient magic, losing her memory and trapped in an endless loop of time'.

She loses her memory but somehow survives with only her soul and travels back in time to 1890 with only her soul for her obsessive wish to 'start all over again for Sebastian'. But because she has lost her memory, she ends up repeating the same mistakes and is unable to save Sebastian, despairing and wishing to 'start all over' again. Trapped in the Ouroboros circle of time and tormented by eternal guilt… is the headcanon about her. (I love novels and movies about time leaps and infinite loops… 😳) But I also have two possible outcomes when she is able to escape the endless loop. The first is route A. If Sakurako is able to time leap without losing her memories.

(I like Butterfly Effect soooooo much!!!!!!!!) During that fateful encounter with Sebastian at DADA on her first day of transfer, when he spoke to her after class, she rejected him and said terrible things to him. Sakurako thinks that that tragedy happens because she and Sebastian have become friends, so she tries to save him by making Sebastian hate her… and so the ending goes.

And Route B. If by the power of love she accidentally escapes from the infinite loop and travels back in time to a world 100 years later. (Never mind the details. The power of love is powerful in the Wizarding World, right?)

She is miraculously reunited with Sebastian, who has been surviving and waiting for her return for all of a hundred years… and that is the ending. Having fulfilled his purpose in life, Sebastian soon dies, and Sakurako's soul, weakened by multiple time slips, also ascends.

In any case, Sebastian and Sakurako do not end up completely happy… which is my preference. I love tragic love stories 😂 But it's nice to see these tragic couples having fun in extra episodes and so on!

(The drawing on the left is part of a cartoon I drew when the Sebastian T-shirt was decided to be launched. The drawing on the right is a parody/trace of a meme that used to be popular in Japan)

These are my headcanons on Sebastian and Sakurako! I'm honestly embarrassed to reveal my brain fantasies 😳. Thanks so much for taking the time to read this long post! 😭💓 The following are the Japanese versions!

[earthtodora]

just realized i forgot to share my post-epilogue fic on here!! so basically i was just completely enamored with yuuji's childish innocence after everything that happened. and, pissy about the fact that megumi was barely featured in the epilogue. here i am, fixing it.

Summary: Ozawa confesses to Yuuji. Megumi is jealous.

"Unlike Yuuji, Megumi isn't a fan of the snow. He doesn't find it mysterious or beautiful. In fact, it makes him nervous.There's a certain darkness in the world that seems to come alive when the temperature drops. That darkness has always been there, lurking just below the surface. But, during the winter months, it seems more prominent.

Maybe it's because the weather is bleak and depressing, and everything is covered in a blanket of white. Maybe it's because people spend more time inside and they have more time to think. Even curses seem to get stronger during the winter.

Born out or people's loneliness and despair.

Megumi hates how vulnerable the season makes him feel. He hates the memories it dredges up, the helplessness and fear.

He hates that his emotions are so out of control.

Megumi likes the early spring best. There's something hopeful and optimistic about it, even though the world is still a bit drab and grey. He likes the sound of birds singing, the freshness in the air.

He likes the way the trees bloom, how the color slowly returns to the landscape. The cherry blossoms are his favorite. He's always loved the delicate pink petals that seem to dance in the wind. Tsumiki used to bring him to parks late March when the sakura were just beginning to blossom, and they would watch the petals fall and float in the air.

Yuuji reminds him of the cherry blossoms. Bright and colorful, with a sweetness that can't be ignored.

And he's just as fleeting."

[the-danmei-multiverse-and-angst]

Danmei I've read & Love and My Ratings (mostly angst with happy endings)

MDZS/Mo Dao Zu Shin (Angst) /5🌟 TGCF/Heaven Officials Blessing (Angst) / 5🌟 Yuwu/Remnants of Filth (❤️‍🩹🥹 Angst) /5🌟 Sword Named No Way Out (Angst) /5🌟 Would You Like to Have A Drink /4🌟 Wu Chang Jie (Angst🥹) /5🌟 War Prisoner (Angst) /5🌟 Cold Sands (Angst/Bittersweet Ending/not a HE but not a bad ending) /5🌟 The Ugly Empress (Angst) /5🌟 Swallowing the Seas (Modern/Angst) /5🌟 Mo Du/Silent Reading (Modern/some decent Angst) /5🌟 Cherry Blossoms Upon a Wintry Sword ( Some Angst) /5🌟 Nan Chan (Angst) /5🌟 Misvil (Mistakenly Saving The Villain/Angst but with comedic tone...hard to explain but has TWs) /5🌟 Blind Concubine (Angst/No HE, Bittersweet? Haven't read in a long time) /5🌟 Spring Trees & Sunset Clouds (Angst) /5🌟 Huitian /5🌟 Ballad of Song & Wine (Qiang Jin Jiu)/ 5🌟 Peerless /Wushuang /5🌟 Can Ci Pin/ 5🌟 Kaleidoscope of Death/5🌟 Global University Entrance Exam/5🌟 Mist /5🌟 Copper Coins ( A little bit of Angst to me, but still a great story, HE)/ 5🌟 Governor's Illness /5🌟 Faraway Wanderers /5🌟 It's Not Easy Being a Master (Angst)/5🌟 Record of the Missing Sect Master (Angst) /5🌟 Stranger (KR novel) /4🌟 Thrive In Catastrophe /5🌟 The Legendary Master's Wife /4🌟 Rebirth of The Supreme Celestial Being /4🌟

I wrote a poem for Cold Sands danmei novel years ago, right after I finished the novel because I was so inspired by the story and it made my heart ache. Here is the poem:

Wings clipped by truth The fall swift and harsh Lies unveiled  Fate strung a web of deceit  A trap, snaring the victim This bird, tied down Voice cut-out -silenced Never to sing Never to cry out Never to sing its beautiful melodies once more Never to give sound to its pain The world itself, what a beautiful cage- A big and wide unknown, and sometimes deceitful place Freedom- is only a short illusory image  Unobtainable- A Mirage in the desert when one is dying from thirst Just out of reach, as though grasping at sand as it slips through your fingertips And as the dark begins to unravel Twist and unwind- Mighty is the weight thrust upon the heart, Subduing its pulse, the beating drum- a strangled ba-thump...ba-thump...ba-thump... An anchor drowning the soul, Just as as heavy as one that bears a crown upon their head,  No escape is possible now  As the strings of fate tighten, the birds wings are broken Fragmented and shattered Unable to never fly Never again to soar the skies

(End/ Extra below)

......

Did you ever once hear the Greek tale of a boy, the boy who wanted to fly close to the sun?

His father created wings of made wax for his child and warned him, told him not to fly to high, to not fly to close to the sun.

However, the boy, Icarus, didn't listen to his father's words.

He flew, soaring higher, and higher, as close as he could get to the sun. His wings made of wax were melted away by the suns brilliance and Icarus fell to earth.

To his end.

And the Lotus flower, that blooms at the bottom of a lake, steeped in mud, struggles and craves, longing and yearning for the suns brilliance, but they can never touch the sun.

And a bird, born with wings to fly, can only fly so high, but never crossing that line, that boundary.

And sometimes love is just the same.

Not every story can have a happy ending, no matter the toil, the strife, the pain.

And some times, no my matter how much you love someone, you may forever be enemies, on opposing sides, love hidden deep in your heart, and all you can do, is to stare wistfully at the horizon, yearning until the end.

[elliebyrrdwrites]

The Marriage Law Trope part 4

The little guest house is nestled into the far south corner of the property. There’s a pathway that leads from the front gates, winding around the manor, through the gardens, and past the quidditch pitch. It goes along the pond mother had installed before I was born, filling it with koi fish and lining it with cherry blossoms that are charmed with the perfect temperament year round. Every season, the cherry blossoms bloom. Snow and ice cling to the thing branches and the delicate flowers and even I have to appreciate the sheer beauty of it all. Because the pond freezes over and when my mother was younger and I was just a boy, she’d ice skate and pull me around on a sled tied to a string. I don’t remember it, but she swears I loved it.

The path, it snakes its way through the luxurious estate that I was raised on and it leads to a cottage style home that the earth clings to. The moss grows up the side of the white wood slats of planks and the windows are trimmed with aqua green paint and sweet peas that sprout and bloom along the vines that crawl up the sides of the home.

The guest house has three bedrooms. Only the master bedroom has a bed. I can see mother has been inside. Because, while she does her duty as a good little pureblood wife, what she really wants, is the chance of a grandchild. She wants to see me become a father and I can’t, for the life of me, figure out why. Because I’m the worst. I was raised by the worst father in history.

But, she has come into this place and gutted the two spare bedrooms. She’s taken away the opportunity for us to both gravitate toward the only room with comfort to sleep in.

You enter the cottage and you find yourself in the middle of a space of clean, white furniture that opens up to a large kitchen with white countertops, white cabinipetry and aqua green accents hidden throughout. Like the thin little lines of x’s that are pressed into the white subway tiles behind the stove. Or the little salt and pepper shakers, or the jar meant to hold flour.

But it’s all white and clean and I look at the inside of this cottage and I want to see splashes of colors that don’t make you feel clean. I see the inside of this house all whit and blank and empty and I have to fight the urge to cut open my hand and smear blood against the walls or the couch.

Down the hall, there’s several doors. First, there’s a bathroom, all white and black tiled with a little picture hanging over the toilet that is an old advertisement for soap in French.

Across from the bathroom, is a guest room that is barren. Just wooden floors that are meant to look old and worn but really, they are brand new. The wood planks continue throughout the entire house and down the hall is a laundry room, beside that is another guest room that is full of boxes.

But at the end of the hallway is the master bedroom. It’s where the large, king sized bed is. The bed sits in the middle of the east well. Night stands on either side. Everything in this room is warm earth tones because on the west wall is a wall made entirely of glass that over looks the woods crowding the edge of the house. There’s a sliding door that opens up to a wooden deck. On the deck, there’s a table and two chairs. There’s a hammock attached to the two moderately young oak trees.

And this is where we will live.

This is where our story will take place.

Because, for now, this is our home.

Granger must hate this. Her entire life has been ripped apart and broken down. It’s been broken down and stuffed into boxes with labels that don’t tell you anything about what she has done or what she had been through.

Her life has been broken down and stuffed into boxes like an after thought.

Books, kitchen. Photos, more books.

There’s boxes of clothes, and boxes of shoes. There’s boxes of Knick knacks and sports equipment. I didn’t even know Granger liked sports.

But her life is here, compartmentalized into boxes and they’re lining the hallway of our new home and it’s fucking frightening. Because it’s me and it’s Granger and she’s my wife and I feel the need to snoop through her boxes because I know nothing about her.

Yes, she’s the Golden Girl.

Yes, she’s a swot.

Yes, she’s bossy and had big hair.

Yes, her tits are superb and her lips could kill me.

But, I know nothing else.

Since we were forced to get engaged, I’ve seen her cry over the idea of marrying me, only to kiss me on our wedding day like it was a long time coming. She kissed me like she’s been doing it for years. I’ve seen her stand up to my father, as if they have some sort of ancient history of rivalry.

And now she’s stomping into the master bedroom where I’ve been checking for traps or bugs meant for spying and she’s pouting like a child.

“What are you doing?”

Currently, I’m checking the floorboards for any trap doors or hiding places. So, I roll onto my back and I blow out a sigh before folding my arms under my head.

She standing over me in her little cut off denims and her big baggy sweater and she’s chewing on her fat little lip and all I can do is recall the way it felt to have it against my mouth.

“What?” I ask and she rolls her eyes and uncrosses her arms. They fall to her side and her eyes roam over me. The way my plain white shirt rides up, revealing the course hairs that lead from my navel, to below the waistband of my pants. They roam over the tattoo that is branded into my arm. They bounce from my eyes to my cheeks. Theirs sallow and sunken. My skin is pale, my eyes are dark and my lips are almost always chapped. I think, once upon a time, I used to be considered attractive, pretty even. But even the most beautiful sculptures made out of the finest stone can wither away if left out in the elements.

But Grangers eyes are hard to read. They’re always bright and sunny, though something tells me they are dulled, worn down from how they used to be. They’re always guarded.

“I can’t transfigure anything into a bed.”

I suck through my front teeth. “McGonagall would be disappointed.”

“I know how to do it, you arse, but nothing will take.”

I sniff and stare up at her. From here, I can almost see up her shorts. There’s enough of a gap between her skin and the denim that there’s an alluring shadowy space that makes me want to reach my hand out and touch her. It’s enough of a gap and enough shadow to let my imagination go wild. I can imagine a freckle on her inner thigh, oddly shaped like a heart.

Fuck.

I’m not supposed to want to fuck my wife. Not when I was going to marry Astoria and definitely not now that I am married to Granger.

But that kiss.

This witch had cursed me and blessed me. Because despite the never ending attack of ants fueled by anxiety, I feel like I’m alive.

Granger is giving me life and purpose and I hate her for it.

I love it.

It feels good, great even.

She’s looking down at me, expectantly. She’s looking at me like I’m supposed to fix this.

“That,” I prop myself up onto my elbows. “Is most likely due to mother’s meddling.”

“What?” She almost laughs at the idea. Because, yes. Narcissa is a dutiful wife and she does her best to back up her husband but, more than anything, she wants a grandchild.

Something tells me that if I were to have a child, it would somehow give her a chance to do things differently.

Like, shower their child with love and protect them from the patriarchal dictator of a father.

“There is only one bed in this house, for a reason, and something tells me that if one of us was to fall asleep on the couch, it would likely kick us off of it.”

Her lips do that thing, again, where it turns into a little rosebud. She’s staring down at me with unreadable emotions flashing quickly, across her face before she sighs and turns to observe the room. she looks at the wall of windows. She looks at the massive bed. The only bed in the entire house.

“I prefer the side closest to the door.”

Grangers head jerks down and her big golden eyes look down at me with that same unreadable expression. That’s when I realize something.

Granger is occluding. And from what I can tell, it’s only something she’s learned how to do recently.

And I know, I know, it’s because she’s married to me.

And that is when I realize that I’ve been letting my walls down and the longer I’m around her, the harder it is to keep them up.

Trust me, I know.

And now I’m living with this witch. It’s like being behind enemy lines, only the war is over and we have been forced together. We’ve been forced into a new kind of war. One that is all our own and we are the only soldiers, the only collateral and I can’t figure out if there’s even a chance of a winner or a loser.

Granger looks at the bed, the only bed, and I see her swallow as she fights to build those walls back up.

I need to stop her. I need to make this a fair fight. If I cannot keep mine up, then neither can she.

I shift onto one elbow and my other hand lifts to her ankle. My hand wraps around it. Her entire ankle fits inside of my hand. It’s a perfect fit.

And she jerks and her eyes return to me. She takes her eyes and she gives them back to me as I tighten my hold on her.

“This is the chain.” I say, glancing back to my hand. “And me,” I look at her and she’s all wide eyed and her lips are parted as she inhales deeply. “I’m the ball.” I slide my hand up, allowing my fingers to open up as it reachers her calf. “You’re stuck with me.”

I tighten my grip on her calf and she jumps out of my grasp. I grin up at her as she takes a step back and glares down at me.

And before she lifts her chin into the air and stomps away, going back to unpacking her life that has been divided and stuffed into boxes, she almost smirks as she says, “This isn’t going to go the way you think it is, Draco.”

Trust me, I know.

Because she slipped again.

To Granger, I am not Malfoy. To Granger, I am not just the boy who teased her in school.

To Granger, I am something else.

[very-lonely-ghost]

Samurai and a Wrighter

Parring: Modern! Mizu x Foreign! Elish teacher! Fem! reader - non established relationship

Warning: Not proofread, SFW, Fluff, Mizu motioned as a guy,

About: you move to Japan to become an English teacher. One day you meet Mizu. You both form a strong bond that one day blooms into something more.

Word count: 1.4k

A/N: Hellooooo Thank you for the idea. I made it more into a story then head canons, so I hope you like it Thank you and let me know if you want more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You moved to Japan to become an English teacher at a small school. In your spare time you were a journalist. You liked living in Japan though you had only been there for about only 2 ½ months. You had learned Japanese before moving but almost every day you learned a new world from the locals in the small town you work in. 

Whenever you journaled, you had a place in the woods you would always go to. There was a grand cherry blossom tree that you loved and a river going almost all away around it in the opening. It was beautiful and you loved it. 

Though one day you meet a person. 

~~~

It was a normal Saturday as you sat under the grand cherry blossom tree writing. It was the cherry blossom season, so the blossoms of the tree were beautiful. You took pictures and a few of the fallen flowers and had put it in your journal that you were now writing in. 

You sat there listening to the sound of the animals and the calm river running. After a minute or two you hear someone. You looked up from your writing to see a person. They were carrying a sword and had their hair tied up. 

For a moment you got a bit nervous that they were going to attack you. 

“Ummm… Hello, may I help you” You spoke to them in Japanese, stuttering a bit.

They looked at you through their orange tinted glasses and were a bit surprised to see you there. They stopped walking and just looked at you. They tilled their head at you as if surprised that you spoke Japanese. 

“I- umm… you're not here to hurt me right” You asked nervously of what they were goanna do with the sword. They followed your line of sight to the sword and then understood. 

_________Pov Shift 

Mizu had walked to the clearing to practice training. Something she hadn't done in a while being too busy. When she arrived there, she didn’t expect someone to be there. 

As she walked into the clear she saw a girl. A very pretty girl she had to admit. Though she could tell you weren’t born in Japan. Based on (Skin tone), (hair color), and (eye color). Though all of those things caught her attention in a way. 

I- umm… you're not here to hurt me right” The person spoke out. As she followed their line of sight, she realized she was carrying a weapon in her hand. 

“Oh no I'm not goanna hurt you I was just coming here to train.” Mizu responded to their question. It seemed to put them at ease. 

“Do you want me to move so you can train?” The girl asked out to her. 

“Ummm nah you're all good. Maybe you could give me some motivation.” Mizu responds playfully. 

_________Pov Shift

The tips of your ear turned a light shade of red as they said that. You couldn’t help it; they were very pretty, and they just said that. Though you just met this person god damn it there is something about them. 

“May I ask your name, Samurai?” You called out. The nickname matches with the blade that they held in hand. 

_________Pov Shift 

Mizu didn’t expect the nickname; she was a bit taken aback by it. 

“Mizu” She responded to the girl's question.

“Mizu” She said, pondering. “Mizu, like water. That's a pretty name” They smiled at her. 

“Yeah, I guess” Mizu said a little waver in her voice from the complement. “What's yours?” She asked. 

_________Pov Shift 

“Y/N” You said. 

“Y/n? It matches you” The person you know as Mizu said. Though there was something about how they said your name that made you breath hitch for a second. 

~~~

After that day the both of you became good friends. Best friends as you would say but Mizu isn’t into that type of stuff. The both of you did everything together even eventually moving in together. 

Though this time feelings were starting to be fluid. Though Mizu was a girl as you found out it didn’t drive you away and Mizu appreciated it. 

Also, whenever you had trouble with something whether it be chopsticks or words, she always helped you. She was so soft with you, and it made you feel safe. 

There were sometimes when she visited your class so you students could learn about what it's like to wield the blade for their story they were writing. 

~~~ 

“Hay Samurai” You say never forget the nickname. Mizu looked over to you from her spot at the table eating. 

“What's up?” She responded before eating more of her food. 

“Could you come to my class tomorrow pleassss????” You asked her with the best puppy dog eyes you could. 

“Why would I” She said before she met your eyes. 

________Pov Shift 

Fuck the puppy eyes. Mizu was a sucker for their eyes, not being able to say no. 

“Well, I gave them an assignment for writing in English about writing a story about samurai. I know you aren’t like a full one but please. They would love it.” They plead to her. Even without them explaining she would have done it with those stupid eyes. 

“Ok I’ll Go” She said, shaking her head. 

_________Pov Shift 

You started dancing around in excitement at Miu agreeing to go. 

“HURRAYYYY Thank you Mizuuuuu” You said before quickly kissing her on the cheek and running off.

___Pov shift 

Mizu was shocked at what you just did. She put her hand to where y/n kissed her as blush took over her face. They had never done that before. Does that mean? Noooo it couldn’t, right???

—---------------(Time Skip) 

You and Mizu walked to your classroom. You buzzed existent as Mizu looked at you smiling still with the thoughts of what happened last night in her head. 

As the classes started you introduced Mizu and let your students and then gave them time to work on their writing. It went pretty well.

Once when classes were changed and Mizu was saying goodbye to the student, one of them had asked Mizu if she was their Husband. Mizu bushed a bit at the idea but told the kid no and sent them on the way. 

The day went on without any trouble. Though Mizu was deep in thought about you for some of it. 

~~~

After that day the only thing Mizu could think of was you. It also didn’t help that she saw you every single day. She tried to push her feelings to the side, but they kept coming back. She didn’t know what to do so she thought for a long time till she had an idea.

~~~

“Mizu, where are you taking me?” You asked Mizu as she led you somewhere. 

“A special place” She responds, holding you hand as she guides you through the woods. 

She led you by the hand till you all got to spot then regretfully letting go of your hand. 

“You can look now” You took off the blonde fold which was a bandana. You looked around to see Mizu holding a bouquet of (favorite flowers). Around her you could notice it was the place where you met each other. 

“Will- Will you be my Girlfriend?” She asked, blushing creeping up to her face. 

You couldn't control yourself as you ran to her smiling big and hugging her. She even stumbled a bit back and made sure you didn’t crush the flowers. 

“Yess Yess a thousand times yessss!!!!” you cheered in her arms. Mizu smiled at your acceptance and let you over to a little place she made.

Under the Cherry blossom tree there was a little pile of blankets and comfy things and fair lights all around. It was so cute and made your heart feel warm. 

You both sat down with Mizu’s laptop and watched a movie. You were both comfortably in each other's arms. Slowly sleep started to take over you as you fell asleep in Mizu’s arms. 

You felt her kiss your head and whispers...

“Good night my Writer” You could hear the smile in her voice as she said it.

“Good night my Samurai.” You said in a tired voice. With that you fell asleep as Mizu held you as tightly in her arms, never wanting to let go of you.

Her Writer

You Samurai

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thannnnnnk you I hope you liked it I did my best and again let me know if you want. more.

[rune-writes]

Ephemerality

Fandom: Love and Deepspace

Word count: 1827

Rating: G

Pairing: Xavier/MC

Summary: In the outskirts of Linkon City, there is a park listed as one of the Top Ten Romantic Parks of Linkon City. Xavier invites MC out for a Valentine's Day date.

Notes: A belated Happy Valentine's Day~

I wanted to write a cute Xavier/MC fic for Valentine's, but alas, I could only finish it now, and... it ends up not being very Valentine-y either haha.

Read on AO3.

~*~*~*~*~*~

“Mind your step.” 

Xavier offered his hand as we came to a slope, pebbles rolling loosely over a steep incline. It wasn’t particularly treacherous. At least, not for me. I was a Hunter, and I was equipped with hiking boots and pants. A measly slope couldn’t outdo me. So I ignored his hand and said, “I can manage just f—” I couldn’t finish my sentence before I felt my foot slip. 

The wind rushed out of me and the world upended—

Xavier caught my wrist and pulled me up, giving me leverage to fix my posture and land on his side. I gasped, heart racing within my ribcage. 

“What did I tell you?” he said. His voice was carefully leveled, but when I chanced a glance, I caught the mirth behind his pressed lips. His eyes couldn’t lie. 

“Thanks,” I said tartly. 

He released a playful scoff under his breath, then shifted his hold to my hand, his long fingers enveloping mine in a secure grasp. His smile finally on full display, he said, “Don’t let go now.” 

Any counter or retort I had ready evaporated instantly at sight of his disarming face. 

This hike had been his idea. Well, mine if we’re talking about technicalities, but I had only made a passing comment on a passing article I was reading—Top Ten Romantic Parks in Linkon City. I knew most of the ones listed; some were popular spots in the city proper even for single people, which I had been one until recently. The tenth one on the list, however, was a place I had never heard of. A clearing out on the hills in the outskirts of the city; it was a hike at the end of an hour train ride. I’d asked Xavier if he knew the place.

“I do. I often pass by it on my way home,” he’d replied. I had learned not to pry exactly where he had gone. As far as I knew, there weren’t any no-hunt zones in the area. He’d leaned over the couch and I’d shown him my phone. He’d nodded, confirming the place. “It’s a bit far, and you need to climb a fair distance. I can see why it’s not a popular date spot.”

“It looks pretty,” I’d said, looking back at my phone. Rosalea Park: a fenced-in clearing with beautiful cherry-blossom trees overlooking the entire city. It’d make a perfect spot for flower viewing, if they were in the cherry blossom season. I’d looked at the panoramic photographs the writer had attached before I closed the tab and noticed Xavier’s gaze. I’d met his eyes.

“Do you want to go there?” he’d asked.

And so our plan had been born. Fast forward one week later, I now found myself holding Xavier’s hand as he led me down the trail with groups of cherry-blossom trees flanking us on both sides. It’d take another month or so to see the pink buds bloom and grace the crown of every tree on this hill. Apparently, some decades ago, someone had planted an entire grove of cherry blossoms on the hills outside Linkon, providing the citizens a magnificent view when spring came around. I liked to watch them from the window of my apartment. It was like being surrounded by an endless, undulating pink sea. Magical. But the flowers didn’t last long. The blooms would fall once the season passed and be replaced by an ocean of verdant green. But that would take another couple weeks. Now, however, the trees around us bore white flowers, small and delicate, creating a sort of mystical mirage with their ephemeral beauty.

I gazed at them, transfixed. I didn’t realize Xavier’s stare until I heard his breathy laugh. 

“Do you like them?” he asked. 

“They’re pretty.” I reached up and caught a falling petal on my palm. “They remind me of you.”

“How so?” 

“They’re quite hardy, and they foretell the coming of spring,” I said. “But they’re also brittle. A single touch could make them fall from their branch. Blink once and you’d miss the beauty they offer.” 

He paused, then said, “Do I seem brittle to you then?” 

I looked up and met his backward glance. I couldn’t quite read the expression on his face. I didn’t think my nonchalant observation would catch his attention. But then a breeze caught the petal in my palm and I watched it dance in the wind alongside other loose flowers. One landed on Xavier’s head, and I giggled, reaching up to brush it away. 

“You’re not brittle,” I told him as I picked the stray petal from his hair. Holding it between my thumb and forefinger, it quivered as the wind fought to keep it aloft. And then it broke free, and I felt a part of me fly away with it. “You’re…elusive. I fear that if I close my eyes, you’ll be gone from my side.” 

Xavier didn’t break his gaze away from me. I looked ahead and found that we’d reached the edge of the treeline. I tugged his hand, urging him to go faster. And then we were outside, and the view took my breath away. 

We were at the top of a hill: Rosalea Hill, judging from the sign they’d propped just outside the line of trees. But the trail didn’t stop there. It went on past the sign and into the clearing, winding around a plethora of flowerbeds in circles, squares, or crescent shapes. A mingle of scents greeted my senses. It felt like I was back in the flower shop Xavier liked to visit, except the smell was richer here, the colors more abundant and vibrant. 

We weren’t the only ones visiting the park either. Couples were already setting up picnic mats and several were taking pictures on the benches or by the wall overlooking the city. I let go of Xavier’s hand and rushed over to it, leaning over and peering down the stone structure. We were so high; the park ended in a steep slope that could easily break someone’s neck were they to fall over. Or, well, at the very least sprain their ankle. The slope wasn’t too sheer that your feet couldn’t find purchase, but I could imagine someone slipping over the terrain.

Like I had just moments before, to my mortification.

Xavier entered my line of sight and I grinned up at him. “Look,” I said, pointing at the entrance to the hiking trail at the bottom of the hill. “That’s where we came in, huh?”

“It appears so.” 

”Doesn’t seem like this place is unpopular,” I added, noting the crowd that was still trickling into the entrance. 

Xavier chuckled. “I never said it’s unpopular. I only said it might not be a popular date spot.”

Well, there were a lot of couples. Either Xavier was wrong, or they’d all fallen victim to the same article I’d read.

I followed the road, all its winding way back to the nearby train station, then finally to the city in the distance. Under the sun, Linkon City’s numerous skyscrapers glinted brilliantly, towers upon glass towers piercing the sky all the way to where Skyhaven hung with its gilded spires. I could spot the parks—clusters of little green dots sandwiched between rows of buildings. I could hazard a guess where our apartment was, though I couldn’t very well see the building from so far away. I saw the river, a sparkling blue line winding through the settlement, cutting right at the heart and finally draining into the sea beyond. Pristine ivory shores rimmed the city’s western edge. 

The place where I grew up looked so different from above. So serene and timeless, as though we had crossed over a threshold and were now gazing at a frozen sculpture. “It’s so beautiful,” I said breathlessly. Too beautiful, in fact. I couldn’t help the slight pang in my heart knowing that one day, things would change.

I pushed myself from the wall and took a few steps back, breathing in the scent, absorbing the view. I might have stayed like that for all eternity if I hadn’t heard the shutter of a camera going off. I looked to my right and saw Xavier directing his phone camera at me. He smiled sheepishly at being caught. 

“Let me borrow your phone,” he said, stashing his away.  

I blinked. “What for?”

He didn’t say anything, only held out his hand in silent inquiry. I indulged him, fishing my phone from my bag and placing it on his palm. 

“Now come here.” He drew me to his side, maneuvered us so that we had our backs to the city, then directed my phone at us to take a selfie picture. “Smile.” 

The shutter went off again. 

Even with the impromptu nature, it was still a pretty good picture. He managed to capture the city in the distance while also still capturing our smiles. He fiddled around with my phone for a while longer before giving it back to me. I looked at the screen—

—and realized he’d changed my home screen wallpaper to the photo he’d just taken. 

“Now even if you close your eyes, I’ll always be by your side.” 

I stared at my phone, then at his cheeky smile. “I want another one.”

“What?”

“It’s not good enough. Better yet, I’ll just take a picture of you ‘cause you already took mine.”

“Wait—”

I pushed him to the wall, had him pose for me several times. After a while, Xavier could only smile in resign. 

“Happy now?” he asked after his photo session ended. “You know, I only took one photo of you.” 

“And I took five.” I scrolled through my album. I couldn’t quite keep the grin out of my face. He looked so handsome in his jacket and turtleneck, and so cute when he pouted at the last picture because I couldn’t decide what pose I wanted him to do. I decided to use that for my homescreen wallpaper instead. 

“Why are you grinning at a picture when the real one is in front of you?” 

I glanced up, and true enough, the hint of a pout was already forming again in his otherwise poker face. I beamed from ear to ear. “Oh please, as if you wouldn’t look at my picture when I’m not looking.”

His response was a guilty, breathy laugh. 

I grabbed his hand and led him away from the wall to a quieter area. “Come on, then. Let’s set up our picnic mat. I made a lot of delicious meals this morning. I can’t wait for you to try them.” 

Later, Xavier told me that the park was even more romantic at night. They had lights stringed around the flower beds, and around the paths and walls as well. Like artificial fireflies, he said. He promised to take me here again to see it. Perhaps, when the cherry blossoms were in full bloom. 

~ END ~

[poemstoimmortalisehim]

Garden and her lover

Before you met me , I was a barren land, neglected and ruined. My trees were stripped bare of their luscious green leaves,picked apart and trampled on by the ghosts of past lovers. Not a single flower was in sight, every last one had wilted in misery crushed by the venomous wrath of hatred and agony trapped within my soil.

Even when some semblance of a seedling formed, she cowered her head in melancholy afraid to trust the warmth of love for fear of being burned again. The once flourishing myriad of fauna that thrived my grounds were now reduced to prickly thorn bushes stinging with painful memories of betrayals and broken hearts.

It was then you came into my garden like a drizzle of hope after a starving drought of despair. Like a mother's delicate touch you tended to my dirt with patience and planted the seeds of your love.

Even during the days when I was plagued with self-doubt and would conspire with the wind to scream at you that I may not bear the fruits of your painstaking labour,you would sit with me in silence and run your hand healingly through every insignificant shrub and weed that grew.

The once blush pale beating heart of my garden was turning crimson red with a newfound purpose just like the roses you planted.Soon arrived the morning glories always in awe of your beguiling smile ready to whisper sweet nothings and extend their vines with gratitude to feel your soft enduring palms.

Then came the lavenders with their saccharine fragrance that would send me into a childlike whimsy and entrance my head with thoughts of you. The lavenders were my favorite because it reminded me of your face that glistened with purple hue and purple meant passion,the sheer unwavering passion of yours that turned my disfigured soil into the Eden the gods blessed your kind with.

The edges of your temple wrinkled like the swirls of an old tree stump but unlike the sophisticated spirals of your exterior your heart remained guarded like a shy tulip worried if the world would mock the way the petals of your mind unfolded.

Yet, during the winter nights when you would rest your weary head on my grass patch saying your musings to the moon, I would listen clandestinely to the wisdom you gained from travelling treacherous rocky paths, how they scarred your feet but disciplined your mind.

You taught me humility so I won't gloat over my vibrant carnations but appreciate their impermanence as with the ever-changing unforgiving seasons and immerse in their exquisite beauty even if, just for a moment.

And just like the notion of love even if the cherry blossoms I cherished so dearly in spring were to wither I would console myself knowing that camellias in the winter would await me.

Like a sunflower that lifts up her glowing yellow petals with cheerful exuberance your perseverance taught me to look adversity in its monstrous pouncing eyes such that even if the sky in her envy were to send ravenous thunderstorms or the sun were to scorn upon us with his scorching glances I would not falter but continue to bloom in rebellion.

Yet I knew, when the vicious hearsays from ravens turned my spirits down you would let me revel in the shade of your strength like a tall and mighty banyan tree.

The butterflies who would travel from lands far away would be swayed by your lustful charm. And while my most eye-catching petunias and freesias would seduce them with sweet nectar and striking petals the fluttery beings would insist on sitting upon the throne of your nose and staring into the alluring blooming irises within your eyes.

My poppies would dance devotedly to the melodious cacophony of your voice and my lilies would wish for a trickle of your sweat to fall upon them so that they may taste salvation and shimmer with pollen of adoration in your presence.

The flowers in my garden shall forever be a testament to the unrelenting love and kindness you showed me and every last seed shall be born praising your name. Alas, my dear remember that when the nights get too lonely and the days filled with drudgery lean your tired frame against my branches so that I may caress your face with dandelion kisses and help you find the courage to sprout again just as you did with me.

-A.N

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 1 Pt. 10 (Reaffirmations of Love)

Even as they gained new wrinkles with softened physiques as they aged, Neal and Daisy still found each other irresistible. They could steal more romantic moments than they had in years, and rarely wasted an opportunity. They knew their good fortune to have found one another, as friends expressed disappointment with their own spouses. And then, of course, there was Bob. He showed up hours late to the barbeque, and soon the reason why became apparent. He had only recently started seeing Annette Rhoads, Henford’s mayor, though they tried to keep their relationship under wraps for the sake of town gossip. But when Annette found out she was expecting, she stepped down from her mayorship and moved in with Bob and his family.

The kids were wary of their new stepmother as no one had forgotten the memory of their mother – least of all Bob – and Annette was deeply in love but still frustrated that a lovechild had spoiled her political ambitions. But Bob was over the moon to be expecting again – he wanted more but Eliza wasn’t keen – and the Nesbitts celebrated the excitement of new life when little Elizabeth was born.

Daisy finally became a PhD of Pollen, among the top botanists in her field and certainly the best in Henford-on-Bagley. Her yard bloomed with perfect plants, and she loved basking in the smells and sounds of the chickens and bees while she meditated under her cherry trees. She truly lived an Outdoorsy life and loved it. She’d achieved so much, but she still yearned for more. She wanted to try to grow the largest crops the Finchwick Fair had ever seen. And she hungered for that UFO fruit.

To celebrate the end of summer, the Nesbitts again travelled to their favourite vacation spot, Granite Falls, where Neal delighted in the ways his growing children could interact with the natural world he’d loved since childhood. Holly fished beneath the falls for hours while Heather and River went for hikes together, and Daisy stayed close to Hazel at the campground. They were blessed this time with great weather, too. While Neal and Daisy took the tent, the kids pulled out sleeping bags and drifted off under the stars. Neal finally befriended the old hermit in the deep woods; once he got beyond the hermit’s rough and curmudgeonly exterior, he not only gave Neal and Holly plenty of fishing tips, but he also taught Neal a recipe for insect-infused fertilizer that Daisy was all too happy to test on her garden crops.

On the way home from Granite Falls, Neal and Daisy made a detour to Oasis Springs. Now that their kids were older, they wanted to show them the place they married thirteen years ago. The first time, only Heather was “there” in Daisy’s belly, but now all their kids could watch their loved-up parents renew their vows at the little chapel in the desert.

Daisy and Neal had both achieved so much. But what was in store for their next thirteen years together? ->

<- Previous Chapter | From the Beginning

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Changes afoot

Day 3 prompts: Family | Loyalty

For: @silmarillionepistolary

Rating: General Audience

Characters: Maedhros, Fingon, Nerdanel, Maglor

Epistolary format: Journal entries and letters

Themes: Soft | Fluff | Hints of Russingon

Warnings: None

Wordcount: 2.2k words

Summary: Fingon writes to Maedhros telling him to expect a visitor. A feast is held in honor of this guest, and both Maedhros and Maglor write their observations of what takes place before and after it begins. Maedhros later writes to his mother about their new guest, and his fears about his father.

A/n: OC name meaning

Indilien, wife of Maglor - Indil (Lily) | ien (suf. feminine ending; feminine patronymic).

This is also available on AO3

Letter from Findekáno to Nelyafinwë

249th day of Y.T. 1492.—

Beloved,—

I trust I have not wounded you by my delay in sending this letter, for my tasks have been many of late. Father cloisters himself often with my uncle, talking, but I fear such talk will bear little fruit. My uncle has grown weary of the many quarrels between your father and mine; he wants no part in them, and I am beginning to think he is wise to keep away. My mother, however, is afraid. She believes this all portends to some dark and terrible doom that is yet to reveal itself, but my father does his best to comfort her, saying all will be well in the end. Perhaps he is right, but my mother’s words weigh heavily on my thoughts. What if she is correct and my father is wrong? What if there is something dark and dreadful hiding in the shadows, biding its time until it is ready to consume us all? I try not to think too much about such matters, and I will write no more on them. Morgoth’s lies have already poisoned what we once had, and I will not give him the power to taint what we have slowly begun to rebuild. 

The cherry trees are in full bloom. My mother’s garden is aflame with brilliant little white flowers. Soon, that white will give way to crimson fruit. Do you remember, my love, how we would lie beneath those flowers while the others were away? How we admired the stars and talked and laughed and loved each other without a care in this world? I still go to those trees and lie beneath their laden branches. I think of your hand over mine, your lips warm against my own. I try to make myself content with the memories of you and me, but I find it is not enough for me. I will try anyway and bear up as much as I can until your father is released from his exile and I can take you into my arms again.

Yours in all things,

Finno.”

P.S.—My love, pray do not allow your heart to grow troubled when you find this letter being borne to you on swift wings. A change is afoot, and whether it is for good or bad, I cannot say. A visitor rides for Formenos even as I write this letter, and you will see them standing before the gates of the great keep your family calls home soon enough.

Letter from Nelyafinwë to Findekáno

251st day of Y.T. 1491.—

Beloved,—

I am not wounded in the least, my love, by the delay in your last letter. You are your father’s oldest, his heir. You cannot shirk your duties toward your family; it is something I understand. I must confess, your forewarning has roused my curiosity as to who this visitor might be, but I will not press you for more on their identity. We will learn of it soon enough, and we have room enough to spare in Formenos for a great many people. I hope my father will be pleased with this intrusion into our lives. Few things bring him joy now, save for us and the hallowed jewels. Forgive me for not writing more on this score. Fëanáro is my father after all, and he would not think highly if I revealed too much of his struggles to you.

I, too, think of the blissful moments you and I spent beneath the branches of those cherry trees. Sometimes, I sit by the window of my bedchamber and look at the sky and the many stars that adorn it. I think of the stars you and I would try to name whenever we caught sight of one we had not seen before. Then I wonder if you are looking at the heavens at the exact same moment as I am and if you are looking at the same stars as I am. I feel your absence so keenly, my love. I cannot rest or eat, or set my eyes on any task; you are a constant in my thoughts. I will try to endure our separation as much as I can until this dreadful exile is over and we can see each other again. Pray do not allow yourself to be troubled by talk of dark portends and signs of doom. Morgoth’s treachery has been exposed, and we are whole and well. Once we are reunited, I intend to show you that you had no cause for fear.

Written by the hand of he who loves you,

Nelyo.

Maitimo Nelyafinwë’s journal

258th day of Y.T. 1491— Just as my beloved wrote in his letter,a visitor rode up to the gates when Telperion reached his greatest bloom. It was grandfather, no less. He decided to come to Formenos and live with us after father sent him word of its completion. Other members of his household, his steward and household guard, and other servants mostly came with him.

Father was delighted. “Our family is now complete again!” He cried and embraced his father, our king. “Just as it should be! Come, my lord. Come with me, and I will take you to your chambers, so you can rest.”

Grandfather was just as pleased, though I thought it all rather strange. He left his queen and their children in Tirion and followed my father into exile. True, his other children were all grown and they were no longer elflings in need of a father’s guiding hand, but it still left a strange taste in my mouth to see grandfather leaving his other family behind so easily. And it must have wounded Uncle Arakáno to see my grandfather choose my own father yet again. Still, I kept my own counsel; now was neither the time nor the place for such questions. It would darken everyone’s mood—my father’s chief of all. Nevertheless, I will still listen to what they say; perhaps I will hear something useful.

Father commanded that we have a great feast in honor of grandfather’s arrival. There would be fine wine and delicate pastries, roasted deer and boar, and even fish caught from a nearby lake. Káno and his bride will sing and play the harp for us. Our little songbird and his wife, the Lady Indilien, ensconce themselves in their chambers, composing music and a series of verses in honor of the occasion. Once, I stopped by the door to listen. Káno was singing, and his lady strummed the harp for him while he did so. What I heard moved my heart in a way I could not imagine. My brother truly is the most gifted among minstrels—he is an elf who could rival the Vala ómar himself. 

His skill with the sword also improves. I teach him as much as I can; one never knows when one will need the use of one, now that Morgoth has escaped and returned to Endorë. During the first mingling of the lights, we make our way to the sparring yard before our other brothers have even opened their eyes, and engage in swordplay. Lady Indilien often joins us, but only to watch. My sister-by-marriage has little interest in hunting and fighting; music and singing are her greatest delights. She keeps herself content by sitting on the side and cheering for her husband. Káno made a wise choice, I think, by taking the lady to be his wife. She is patient and uncommonly kind, traits my brother desires greatly. I pray their marriage will be a happy one and that no misfortune darkens their doors. Now I must set aside my quill and ink. The hour of the feast is almost at hand, and I must prepare myself for it. 

Makalaurë Kanafinwë’s journal

259th day of Y.T. 1491— The feast was splendid. Everyone dressed in their finest robes, and even Tyelko conducted himself in a manner befitting a lord of high birth and rank for once. The cooks surprised us all by setting a tasty table. There were rich stews, soft bread, and fresh fruit, as well as meat and mead and wine for anyone who desired them. Father said little. It displeased him to hear that my uncle Arakáno now rules Tirion as its regent, for it was supposed to be him ruling in grandfather's stead, not his half-brother. Nevertheless, his mood revived not long after. Grandfather joining us in exile cheered him in no small measure. Perhaps he thinks that this is yet another victory over my uncle, another sign of how he will be first in grandfather’s eyes even when he is in exile, even after he threatened my uncle’s life. I like it not. Strife within our family grows day by day, and I fear it bodes ill for us all. My lady urges me to take no part in the quarrels of others. Alas! If only I could do such a thing. Fëanáro is my father. He is my father, and I love him just as much as I love my mother. I must, however, hold onto the hope that he will free himself of his anger and resentments and that our family can be whole again once this dreary exile of ours is at an end. Now I must go. There is something father wishes to show all of us. 

Letter from Nelyafinwë to Nerdanel

261st day of Y.T. 1491.— 

Beloved mother,—

We were told of uncle Arakáno’s change of station. Pray offer him felicitations on my behalf, and tell him I wish him nothing but success.

Mother, you will be pleased to hear that grandfather arrived safely and that all is well with him. There was a splendid feast. Káno sang for us, as did Lady Indilien. You should have heard them. They sounded so sweet together. Everyone cheered and asked them to sing and play for us again. The day after the feast, father took us to the cave that was found during the building of Formenos, and threw open high, iron doors to reveal a great vault. 

“After toiling many a day, it is now finished,” he declared with a great flourish, and he led us inside. Father had labored over the vault in secret, and none of us witnessed its transformation until he opened the doors for us. I wish I could write more on its many aspects, but father forbade us from doing so. Forgive me for saying this, mother, but father’s sense of mistrust has deepened even more. He bid Lady Indilien to wait outside while he brought forth the silmarils. Káno was ill at ease with this, for father’s wish sounded more like an order and less like a kindly appeal one would make to another. Still, he held his tongue, perhaps for his lady’s sake. Lady Indilien, however, did not seem to be offended by father’s command. 

“It is quite all right, my love,” she said, squeezing Káno's hand. “I am content to wait outside.”

After she took her leave of us, father revealed the hallowed jewels. They were as glorious as always, and their radiance was a wonder to behold.

“My greatest work,” father said, lifting them one by one for us to admire. Each jewel glittered like they possessed the light of a thousand stars, and their light shone like gold and then silver, and they bewitched us all with their beauty. “They must be guarded at all times, for never again shall I make anything to match their likeness and glory.”

We admired them one final time before father returned them to their secret chamber. The vault felt strangely darker in their absence, and the air grew a little colder. Then father rejoined us, and we departed.

Write to me when you can, mother. I long to hear more from you and of the great city I once called home.

Your son,

Nelyo.  

Letter from Nerdanel to Nelyafinwë

263rd day of Y.T. 1491.—

My son.—

The days seem to last longer here in Tirion. Perhaps it is because I am here, and you are all in Formenos. I miss you all so very much, but it heartens me to know your father is not alone, and you are all with him.

I rejoice to hear that Lord Finwë is safe and that his journey was without trouble. I have also passed on your kind words to your uncle; it lightened his heart to hear them. His task is not an easy one; the lies and false counsels of Lord Morgoth hold sway over many hearts, and discontent is still strong. We help him as much as we can to ease the many burdens that have been placed on his shoulders.

Queen Indis has taken her place as one of my students, and she is proving herself to be an apt pupil. We spend many wonderful hours together, and I am pleased to claim her as a friend.

As for your father, pray do not take his actions and disposition to heart. Lord Morgoth’s lies brought about a profound change in many who gave an ear to his false counsels, your father most of all. Perhaps, with him no longer under the influence of Lord Morgoth’s words, your father’s nature will return to its former self. I will write to your brother and I will counsel him as best as I can. I am also glad Káno has Lady Indilien, and I am glad you can call her sister. Listen to her, my son, and take care of your father. Write to me about anything that troubles you, and I will do what I can to aid you even from afar.

Your loving mother,

Nerdanel

[dramioneasks]

HP FESTS: HP Fruit Fest

HP Fruit Fest 2023:

eat of the apple, so young by nyquilsquirrel - E, one-shot - Hermione wanted to writhe and bounce and grind her hips into his until her vision went white and spots formed in her periphery. She wanted to pant and gasp and moan as she combusted, shattering into a million little pieces of bliss while he kept her upright, supporting her always. She wanted to pulse and clench around him, walls fluttering frantically until he painted them white, mixing his fluids with hers and joining her explosive, carnal state of pleasure. She watched it all play out in her mind’s eye, all too tempting and enticing.Professor Malfoy wanted her to sit still.Hermione was enamored by him. She would do anything for him.And right now, he wanted her to warm his cock while he graded essays.She could do that. (WARNINGS: RAPE/NON-CON)

imperfection, my dear by riddikulus_puff - E, one-shot - Astoria Greengrass and Draco Malfoy were happily married along with their gorgeous, blond-haired son, Scorpius Malfoy, but life got too busy and it was decided between the couple that they needed a babysitter. And they needed one desperately. This was where the recently turned nineteen-year-old Hermione Granger came in and was the best candidate for the job role of babysitter. However, Draco and Astoria couldn’t help it when alternate feelings start to rise from seeing the young woman with their son. (Draco x Hermione x Astoria)

chocolate covered strawberries by riddikulus_puff - T, one-shot - Hermione Granger had always loved springtime. She loved everything about the season even though she was a late summer baby having been born in the middle of September, she had always preferred the spring and autumn time. They always called out her names. Then she found true love with Draco Malfoy, who had also always loved the springtime. He felt the same about the season even though he was another summer baby. They purposely had their wedding in the Malfoy Manor gardens in the middle of spring. They had prolonged their honeymoon so they could celebrate it within the spring. But, then came the birth of their two spring babies. Scorpius and Lyra Granger-Malfoy. With the cherry blossom blooming on the trees across the gardens of Malfoy Manor. Newborn lambs and little piglets frolicking about in the neighbouring fields. Loads of loaded picnics with all different kinds of food and drink underneath the shining sun with their babbling children. Hermione and Draco Granger-Malfoy would always love the springtime.

Taking Pear of Each Other by aCanadianMuggle - G, one-shot - Draco Malfoy has a boot full of pears and Harry Potter has a pub full of people who like eating them.

This fest is ongoing.

[quillheel]

❁ ( towards any of your zelda muses − hylia and the three godesses, mainly, but also botw & totk link / zelda / ganondorf if you feel compelled...!! )

Send me a ❁ for the type of flower my muse would give to yours // Accepting!

Hylia's answer comes, sharp and slow like a blade pulled uncutting against thought, a cool not-metal against the inner heat of mind. ━ the same as sky, not in the way of wind but in the way of open space, of nothing at all, of atmosphere pressing in from out against your throat. Almost frozen, almost frigid, but without the effort in coldness, in willful ignoring, of brushing one off : cold as in cold is the absence of heat. No, Iroha receives an answer. Stale pollen and bright, blinding knowledge. ━━━ she was not made to create the way the Goddesses were, and yet, the flowers bloom at their feet regardless : perhaps they should consider themselves special.

━ bachelor button, hydrangea, bittersweet, lavender heather, white poppy, blue violet, mixed yellow & red zinnia, white hyacinth, rose leaf, & buried beneath the rest; spider flower. ( 'You are not of my domain, I am indifferent to you. However, I respect your devotion. I sympathize, perhaps, with your situation. One day, perhaps, there will something other for you. One day, perhaps, you will make one.' )

the Goddesses' response is a ancient one. months hung above the stratosphere, dangling, dangling, waiting to be lowered. Months upon months upon months, the flower of the seasons dripping into the horizon in a haze of days and nights and days again: They were intricate, and slow, and often unknowable at all. how patient, you are, for Them. How kind, to wait, for Them. They reward Iroha with answer in time, in the humid shivering haze of early morning, a wave of such love of all Iroha does, of the endless sorrow They beheld upon their duty, arriving like quartz lining their throat ━ blooms growing from 'pon their fingertips, 'cross their knuckles. a gift, a gift, how merry to be known & seen, how terrifying by They to listen & answer in turn ━ how horrible, horrible to think you had been forgotten...

━ bachelor button, maidenhair fern, red carnation, dead leaf, purple hyacinth, dark crimson rose, pine, acorn, fern, fir, white heather, iris, lily of the valley, tea rose, palm leaf. ( 'We love you, We are sorry, your faith is not unseen by Us, for This to be your undertaking, borne as chains & key. Such is Our terrible, terrible doing. Such is Our apology. We hope, perhaps, one day the selves can exist without the other or in one without smothering, smothering light. We hope, perhaps, one day you are allowed to live; a role unshackled, unlocking Thy own binds. Chains & key. Chains & key. Freedom unmade for you, and yet, still hoping to grasp it.' )

Link & Zelda come as though offering memorial, bundles of blooms and sprigs tucked in their arms as they hurry past stream and grove ( "watch your feet, 'stream made the ground soft" "ah, thank you, I believe I'll be alright-!" ) to find the place where the Blupees haunched on hind legs and watched them with startling, ruby eyes. The one Link had gone before, a familiar forest in the heavy overhang of branches & leaves. a bowl is filled with fruit steadily throughout the day beneath a great cherry tree, pink petals like silk beneath the sun. a final act of care comes as sunset threatens to burn the sky alive when, on a brief journey back to a stable for a briefer meal, they're caught in a fleeting conversation of flora & the hearts beneath their stalks ( "Oh, you're going all the way up to Satori mountain? Hey, if you're going through all the effort, I've heard people bring flowers up there sometimes, you know, offerings and the like. Some people bring flowers, symbolizing what the 'Lord of the Mountain' protector means to them. Maybe it'd be worth your time?" ) ( "That sound's like a nice idea, I think!" "I think so, yes, but what would I even bring...?" ) ━━━ they in bundles, at last, arrive. Hurried up, past the stream, to find the tree again. Zelda hesitates, an offering of silent princess clasped between delicate fingers ━ "Would it be considered disrespectful to place it at the dish...? Maybe I shouldn't..." ━ before Link, calloused hands delicate, maneuver their hands to set it down along the rest, petals bright; bright in the clear sky.

━ bittersweet, bluebell, pink camellia, iris, cattleya orchid, magnolia, evening primrose, flax, rose leaf, forsythia, fern, lavender rose, bells of ireland, azalea, sweet pea, mixed zinnea. ( 'I think you're kind, and charming, and though I rarely see you, I hope you are well. I hope to change that fleetingness, if you'll let me? I think you might like Zelda, you might have more in common than you think.' / 'I've heard of you, but never seen you, all good things. I hope one day to meet, you seem good. Perhaps lonely. I might like you, if you gave me the chance, but I'd understand if you don't like me. I hope your future is a kind one, whatever kind of future it is. I don't know you well enough, even in stories, to tell.' )

Somewhere, there is a valley tucked neatly behind the ridges of hills, in the lowered groove 'twixt them where the land sinks ginger under the long grass and the wild flower of the knolls; as though gently swept down, as though the soft lowering of a stomach, ribs high against the soft tension of smooth skin in earth, as though the rounded edges of hands where the knuckles stood war-like as the gentle palm sinks; ball of the hand softer than the upper of the palm, the upper of the palm softer than the fingers, the fingers softer than the nails, the nails softer than the bones inside them all.

Somewhere, there is a valley of tender, shivering silver. plush moss lining the ground like bolster turned cloudy like rain, muted but beautiful in variation, white paint blending with greys in the fiber that wasn't fiber, the tissue that was. A place no one knew. a place one did. flowers split, forbearing as though shifting only between the folds, and reeds rose in the bed. A place that never died, flowers like chanting; the same message, 'hundred times over, 'thousand more. ━ Somewhere, you know this place. Somewhere, no one else knows at all. Somewhere, it tells you something. Somewhere, somewhere, somewhere...

━ lotus, cherry blossom, chrysanthemum. ( 'how much would it take to stop grieving yourself, and choose to live? how long?' )

[hp-fruit-fest]

Spring is here and Fruit Fest opened with a bang! Here are the juicy selections offered so far!

FIC. Draco & Harry. Draco/Hermione. Rated: G. Words: 1,251. Fluff. Chef Draco. Pub Owner Harry. Bars and pubs. Baking.

Draco Malfoy has a boot full of pears and Harry Potter has a pub full of people who like eating them.

🍐 Read on AO3 🍐

ART. Draco/Harry. Rated: G. Muggle AU. Fluff. Meet cute.

"And it might sound silly but let's go home"

🥭 Read on AO3 🥭

FIC. Draco & Goyle. Rated: E. Words: 1,434. Object insertion. Anal fisting. Pranks gone sexual. Drabble collection.

Harry and Ginny come up with an insane prank to play on Draco. Except it goes sideways. Well, more up, and then sideways, but only after plenty of stretching. This is crack gone overboard. Pumpkins go up holes and gaping booty gets an impressionist description; read at your own peril.

🎃 Read on AO3 🎃

FIC. Harry/Hermione. Rated: G. Words: 1,416. Panic attacks. Comfort.

Ron's left, and Harry buckles under the pressure. Hermione walks him back from the edge.

🥝 Read on AO3 🥝

ART. Draco/apple. Draco/Harry. Rated: E. NSFW art.

Draco does a photo shoot for Witch Weekly, in which he shows his appreciation for his favorite fruit.

🍎 Read on AO3 🍎

ART. Draco/Harry. Rated: G. Mpreg. Pregnant Draco. Cravings.

Apples symbolize peace, beauty, wisdom, joy, fertility, and youthfulness

🍏 Read on AO3 🍏

FIC. Draco/Hermione. Rated: T. Words: 402. Tooth rotting fluff. Family feels. Parenthood. Springtime. Scorpius & Lyra.

Hermione Granger had always loved springtime. She loved everything about the season even though she was a late summer baby having been born in the middle of September, she had always preferred the spring and autumn time. They always called out her names. Then she found true love with Draco Malfoy, who had also always loved the springtime. He felt the same about the season even though he was another summer baby. They purposely had their wedding in the Malfoy Manor gardens in the middle of spring. They had prolonged their honeymoon so they could celebrate it within the spring. But, then came the birth of their two spring babies. Scorpius and Lyra Granger-Malfoy. With the cherry blossom blooming on the trees across the gardens of Malfoy Manor. Newborn lambs and little piglets frolicking about in the neighbouring fields. Loads of loaded picnics with all different kinds of food and drink underneath the shining sun with their babbling children. Hermione and Draco Granger-Malfoy would always love the springtime.

🍓 Read on AO3 🍓

FIC. Astoria/Draco. Astoria/Draco/Hermione. Rated: E. Words: 3,668. Virginity loss. Dom/Sub. Mommy/Daddy kink. PWP.

Astoria Greengrass and Draco Malfoy were happily married along with their gorgeous, blond-haired son, Scorpius Malfoy, but life got too busy and it was decided between the couple that they needed a babysitter. And they needed one desperately. This was where the recently turned nineteen-year-old Hermione Granger came in and was the best candidate for the job role of babysitter. However, Draco and Astoria couldn’t help it when alternate feelings start to rise from seeing the young woman with their son.

🍒 Read on AO3 🍒

[archester-creations]

Rated: T

Pairing: Jaune Arc & Cherry Arc & Cardin Winchester, Jaune Arc/Cardin Winchester (background), Velvet Scarlatina & Cardin Winchester (background)

Word Count: ~1k

A/N: implied past mpreg

It happens while they’re away. Because of course it does. If Cardin was there, it would’ve never happened. (Or it would’ve and Velvet would’ve simply been very sneaky about it.) They’re out on a date. The first they’ve had since Cherry was born six months ago. He’d refuse to admit it, but the only way Jaune had been able to drag Cardin out alone is because of Velvet. There’s no real separation anxiety for either of them because of Velvet. Velvet loves Cherry and vice versa. Besides, the plan is for two hours tops. In reality, it's only an hour. Both are tired, lately. Jaune moreso because of hunting, Cardin fully because of Cherry, who is a joy but is a lot of work and is still being given aura.

When they return home, Velvet smiles at them, Cherry in her arms. Maybe if his brain was firing on all cylinders Cardin would've questioned that smile. It's not rare for Velvet to smile. But it's a half formed thing. Something small and teasing that Cardin had grown to learn meant ‘trouble’ in more senses of the word then he knew existed. That when his sister smiled like that, it meant he'd either lose months off his lifespan or a number of other things. (Money, once, when he had to bail her out of jail. He'd still never gotten the full story for how she'd gotten there. He still wasn't sure he really wanted to know.)

“She said her first word, I'm sorry you guys missed it.” Velvet’s smile turns apologetic as she hands Cherry over to Cardin.

“It's okay, they'll be other firsts,” Jaune says. Though Cardin knows he is disappointed, too. It was only by sheer luck he'd been home the first time she crawled. “I wonder what it was.”

So does Cardin. With Velvet there is really no telling what it was.

Velvet shrugs and that half formed smile forms a little more, so one of her dimples shows, and her eyes shine the way they only do when she knows more than someone else and is trying not to laugh about it, because that would give it away. It makes Cardin suspicious, but his brain refuses to parse what she could've done. Maybe they'll find their sugar and salt swapped. That was something she'd done once, when they were younger. She's not much more mature now. (None of their group is.) "Maybe she'll say it again. Kids tend to repeat their first words a lot."

With that, Velvet leaves. Cardin thanks her again at the door and she says it was nothing, because she loves her niece, and then the door closes and Cardin and Jaune turn curiously to Cherry. Jaune pokes her in the stomach so she giggles.

“So, my little bloom, what’s your first word?” Jaune asks. Cardin nods at her, hoping she will say it for them.

She looks up at both of them with bright, pink eyes, and repeats her first word enthusiastically for her parents. “Fuck!”

Jaune bites his lip so he doesn’t laugh or smile and looks at Cardin out the corner of his eye.

Cardin can feel something inside him crack, like glass. He takes a breath and screams Velvet's name so maybe she can hear him.

(Of course, she does, where she is lingering near some trees close to the cabin. After all, she knew exactly what she was doing while she spent several minutes trying to get Cherry to repeat her.)

Quietly, eloquently, and fittingly if Cardin gets his hands on his sister anytime soon, Cherry says another "fuck".

Jaune nods in agreement.

  Velvet, of course, was truthful when she said Cherry would likely repeat her first word multiple times over the coming weeks.

(And even after she learns more, it’s repeated for all the following years and decades as well.)