#and besides I don’t have a garden to bring flowers from

[thymeofarrival]

feels weird not being home for easter. I don’t miss the church part, but I do miss dressing up and cutting flowers from the garden and bringing them to church wrapped in wet paper towel. and seeing the people who only show up on christmas and easter. and dyeing easter eggs

[caffeinewitchcraft]

The Hero and Hope 4/5

Okaaaay, so there's 5 parts instead of 4! I realized that the last part was over 6k words, so we're splitting it into two! The last part will still be posted next Friday, so this will keep us on track!

Summary: The picnic has an uninvited guest that you're uniquely suited to greet.

-------

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

“Didn’t think I’d see anyone able to catch Marie,” the Lord says, brows raised. His golden eyes track Isla across the garden and he whistles when she jumps to tag his former knight. “That was not within the capabilities of a Villager.”

Ivan scans the crowd around them. Most of the townsfolk are too far away to eavesdrop and the ones close enough to potentially hear are engaged in their own conversations. “Careful, Brennan. If the Director hears you speculate…”

“Yes, the Director,” Lord Brennan sighs. He brings his teacup to his lips, but doesn’t drink. He contemplates Director Sarah where she crouches with a glass of water near Annie. “You know this is the first time we’ve met?”

It’d been a fight to get Sarah to agree to today at all. Ivan chooses his words carefully. “Your predecessor did not have the sort of…kind interest you do.”

The former Lord’s interest Sarah shared with them was a lot more horrifying. There’s a reason that Isla at only fifteen years old is the eldest at the orphanage.

“That’s one way to put it,” Lord Brennan agrees. He settles back into his seat and sighs in satisfaction. He watches the children gradually grow tired of their game and drift towards the dessert table. He grins when the townsfolk naturally make room for them, a few of them even fetching treats from the center of the table for the littler ones. “See my people together? It was very good of me to lure you and Marie to my territory.”

“You gave us a castle,” Ivan says. They weren’t so much lured as bludgeoned with generosity. Some days it feels like they blinked and ended up standing amongst fine silk and filigree.

“It’s a manor as far as paperwork goes,” Lord Brennan says.

“It has buttresses.”

“A very fortified manor.” Lord Brennan finally sips his tea and sighs again. “This tea is from our fields, isn’t it?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“It’s delicious.” The full canopies of the trees enveloping the estate rustle in the wind. The sun shines warmly overhead. Lord Brennan takes another drink. Delicious. “The land’s come a long way since we ousted my father, hasn’t it? Plentiful harvests, an established trade route, a new school. If it weren’t for the demons, my work would be done.”

“I would prefer you had no work then,” Ivan says dryly.

“Me too.” Lord Brennan sets his tea aside and rubs his eyes. “Any updates?”

“None,” Ivan admits, frustration leaking through his words. His face is still amiable and the disconnect between his tone and his visage is jarring. “We investigated the wolf tracks in the woods and only found carnage. No signs of the demons themselves.”

“So they are demons?”

“Regular wolves wouldn’t be able to evade a squadron of your knights, my lord.”

“Neither would demon wolves,” Lord Brennan says. He rubs his chin, brow furrowing. “I don’t like what that implies. Any sign of larger foes?”

Ivan doesn’t want to discuss this here. Marie’s eyes are on him, sensing his rising distress. He smiles and waves to her. “Besides the horned rabbit migration?”

“Is it a migration?”

“Isla saw five within the first four weeks of summer,” Ivan says.

The Lord’s attention falls on the teenager. She’s patiently letting one of the other children – Hera? The one who’d curtsied to him like a little noble – weave flowers into her braid. He tries to imagine her fighting a horned rabbit and his lips thin. “I’ll call for reinforcements from the capital.”

“Marie and I can—”

Lord Brennan waves Ivan off. “No, no, I’ve asked too much of you already. Aren’t the two of you too busy in your retirement already? I thought you’d be settled with a child by now.”

“It’s not good to rush these things,” Ivan says as he has the last three times Lord Brennan has asked. This time it’s Ivan who sighs. “It took Marie and I a good few months to win Director Sarah over after our misstep.”

“Asking about Destinies, was it?”

“Implying we’d value any child less for not being a knight like us,” Ivan corrects.

“There seem to be a lot of unusual Destinies in the orphanage,” Lord Brennan says. He’s not an Identifier but he’s got a good eye. Though no one can know for sure until a child either develops their mark or comes into their power at fifteen, he’s seen more than a few signs of a Scholar, a Guardian, and a Teacher. Once again he finds his gaze being drawn back to Isla. She’s got a child under each arm and is running from Marie again, the game having resumed after their snack break. “That one is a Guard, at least. Nobody else would have physical abilities like that.”

Ivan ignores the Lord’s comment. “It’s been worthwhile getting to know them all.” His smile turns a little more genuine. “They’re all good kids.”

“Surely you and Marie have an inkling of who’ll be a good fit?” When Ivan doesn’t reply, the Lord clicks his tongue. “You can’t choose all of them.”

Ivan’s voice is a study in nonchalance. “Can’t we?”

Lord Brennan opens his mouth only for no words to come out. At length, he has to laugh. His knights do like to keep busy. “You’d need a castle.”

“You did give us one, my lord.”

“I suppose I did.”

The two men lapse into a pleasant silence. It is good to see the townsfolk this cheerful. This town is the furthest from Lord Brennan’s own castle and he rarely has a chance to visit. The first time he had had been very different. The people still bore the wounds of winter in gouged cheeks and brittle smiles. Now he sees the glow of health everywhere he looks.

He contemplates the Director once again. She’d been the only one back then to not seem pleased to see him ride in on his white horse. Even now he can feel the chill of her scrutiny as she stood defensively between him and the orphanage. None of that chill is present today. Her smile is as sweet as his tea while she tends to a scrape the little Scholar sustained in this round of tag. “Ms. Sarah is very pretty, isn’t she?”

“I know we can’t adopt them all,” Ivan blurts out. He doesn’t seem to have heard Lord Brennan. His gaze is turned towards his own inner conflict which is why he also doesn’t notice the blush dusting the Lord’s cheeks. “It wouldn’t be fair to them. Marie and I decided to adopt a child who would benefit from what little we can offer. Military arts and luck.”

“I don’t think you’re being fair,” Lord Brennan says with raised brows. “You and Marie offer a lot more than a Knight’s experience. Haven’t you shown that already in your actions?” He’s not aware of everything his former knights have done, but he’s heard plenty from the children today. He didn’t think Marie had the patience to teach anyone how to read.

Ivan’s hands fist. “It’s not enough, it’s not—the little boy. Josiah. He’s so smart. I don’t even know where to start with him and even Marie says that he’ll soon outpace her—”

“Well,” Lord Brennan says, “Neither of you are Teachers, true, but there is a school for that--”

“And Annie wants to know why bread rises and why the sun sets and how many seconds are in a day—”

“All kids are curious—”

“Hera staged a whole theater production for my birthday and all we could do was clap—”

Is he missing something? “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?”

“We don’t know any actors or directors to introduce her to!” Ivan cries out. He quickly lowers his voice, but can’t hide the stress around his eyes. “What could we give to a child like her? Like any of them?  Marie and I are out of our depth. It would be so much simpler if one was a Knight!”

The Lord tentatively offers, “If Isla’s a Guard--?”

Ivan gives a cry of distress that he barely capture in the palm of his hand. “Isla! That girl feels like my daughter already, but…she’s been through so much. She doesn’t need a father who teaches her how to fight or a mother who teaches her how to withstand a siege! She deserves to never have to fight again. What could we offer her? What could we possibly give to her she hasn’t already learned on her own?”

A light goes on in the Lord’s head. He takes in the festivities with new eyes. The town’s Baker, Blacksmith, Teacher… His friends have invited every possible parent they could in hopes of providing for the children in ways they felt incapable of doing themselves. As noble as that was…“Ivan, being a parent goes beyond the skills you can give a child. It’s more than fostering talent or an offering an apprenticeship. It’s—”

A horse’s scream drowns out the Lord’s next words.

Ivan is in front of Lord Brennan with his sword drawn before the horses and their blood-splattered riders even round the side of the castle.

-----.

 You throw Annie and Josiah behind you the moment you hear the sound of hooves galloping towards the manor.

“Isla, what—” Josiah starts to ask and then cuts himself off as the innkeepers and their entourage burst into the party.

You smell blood before your eyes register the terrible red staining their fine clothing.

“ORCS!” Mr. Innkeeper screams over the frightened snorts of his horse. He stumbles down from his mount and staggers towards the Lord. “They overtook our carriage—please, my wife, she’s hurt—”

Mrs. Inkeeper is holding her side and seemingly barely holding onto the saddle horn. “Our guards won’t be enough to hold them off—”

“Inside,” Sarah hisses into your ear. She points after Hera who’s already shepherding the younger kids into the building. “Now.”

“—an army—”

“—fast—”

“—waiting for us—”

You move faster than you’ve allowed yourself since you arrived. This is no time to take care in hiding your abilities; there are roars coming from the forest unlike anything you’ve ever heard before. Your senses seem to dial up with your heartrate and you can hear the clash of steel against rock and flesh. You scoop Annie into your arms and leap after Josiah and Sarah.

Mr. Dallen’s face is pale as he ushers you all into the manor. He holds the door open for the townsfolk. The hall fills with the sounds of panic and sobs as fear washes through you like a tidal wave. There have never been orcs south of the mountains, there have never been demons bigger than a horned rabbit in the last twenty years, even when the Winter froze the river—

Mr. Dallen waves down Marie as she sprints to the large doorway. You think that he’s going to pull her inside to safety, but instead he thrusts her bow into her outstretched hands.

“Do not open these doors,” she commands. Behind her the knights are assembling into a formation, their Lord at the center. Ivan stands before them all, barking orders to ready their spears as the trees in front of them begin to sway. Marie pulls a dagger from under her skirts and slices the bottom half of her dress clean off. She kicks it away from her feet as she talks. “Take everyone to the basement—”

“Ma’am, the escape tunnel still isn’t cleared of debris—”

Marie swears so violently that half the townsfolk gasp. She grabs Mr. Dallen by the shoulder, her eyes flicking back and forth between him and her husband. “Then we will draw them away. The moment you think you can, run to the wagon. Get the children to—” She bites her lip. You can see the devastating truth flash through her mind. There isn’t anywhere to go. “Damnit. Bar the door and arm everyone you can.”

Mr. Dallen’s lips are bloodless as he nods. “My lady.”

Marie turns to everyone. Her voice is unlike anything you’ve heard come from her lips; it’s harsh and barking. A commander giving orders much like Ivan is doing outside. “Listen, everyone. We are in danger. Our best estimate is that 25 orcs are marching on the manor. There is no guarantee of survival. The moment this door is breached, it will mean the knights have failed. You must be prepared to fight. Do you understand?”

Twenty-five? Your hands ball into fists and your breath catches in your throat. You’ve heard of entire villages being wiped out by three.

“Then we’ll fight with the knights,” the Baker says. He pushes away from the center of the group and marches to the wall. He pulls down the crossed axes, keeps one, tosses the other to the Blacksmith. She catches it easily. “You’ll need everyone who can hold a weapon.”

Marie never voices her protest. You can see the strain of holding it back in her tense shoulders and her poignant silence. At long last, she nods. “You’re right. Stay behind the knights. They know how to handle the frontline better than you.”

There’s a flurry after that. The townsfolk divide in half. Those unable to fight slide back as those who can start scavenging for weapons. Mr. Dallen grimly pulls two long daggers from under his coat while pointing your neighbors to decorative swords, to ornamental spears, to the heavy coatrack just inside the parlor.

Grimly, you stride past Sarah, ignoring her hiss and darting hands. You can leave the weapons to the villagers, there’s a large knife on the dessert table you can use—

Marie slams a hand against your chest. You stagger back at the weight of the blow, breath knocked from your lungs. You’re more stunned than hurt as you gape at her.

“Children stay here,” Marie says. Her eyes narrow. “No exceptions.”

“But I’m—”

“We don’t have time to argue!” She pushes you further back, clearing the doorway for the armed villagers to run outside towards the knights. “You’re strong Isla, but this isn’t your fight. Stay here. Guard the door.”

The winter wind howls in your mind. You splutter. “But I—”

Marie spins away from you. “Director Sarah.”

Sarah’s arms slide around your shoulders. “Yes, lady.”

 The closing of the door feels like a blow in itself. You stare sightlessly at the unyielding wood as your emotions rage. How could she? You’re strong, you can do more, you can help, you’re the one who kept everyone from starving—

“We need to barricade the windows,” Director Sarah is saying to the townsfolk. Half of them gaze at her uncomprehendingly. Her hands slide from your shoulders slowly, as if testing that you aren’t going to leap outside. When you don’t move, she lets go entirely. “Isla, move the furniture. Hera and Josiah, find something to tie it down with.”

You move on autopilot. There are other hands alongside yours as you push the sofa and armchairs in front of the windows, the townsfolk coming together to defend the manor. Hera darts between you all and pulls the curtains closed, reclaiming the curtain ties to use as rope. She’s got a grim determination in her eyes that looks uncomfortably familiar.

Your attention is on the noise outside. The orcs are slow, but loud. The roars change to squeals and bellows of challenge. Branches break and there’s a terrifying, splintering crash as a tree falls. Metal rings as the knights raise their shields. You can see it all in your mind’s eye, the knights in a defensive line across the length of the garden, the Lord securely in their center. Ivan is shouting about this being what they’ve trained for, that there are more of them than there are orcs, that this city won’t fall—

And the Lord is speaking too, quickly and quietly to Marie. The escape tunnel? Damnit, I should have sent more men—

It will be fine, Marie says. Her bow sings as she holds it ready and you know the way her muscles flex and her eyes narrow from experience. We won’t let a single one of those monsters past us. We won’t--

The knights bellow alongside the orcs. Your heart leaps and your focus is jarred. You’re standing in front of the door again, your hands balled at your sides. Everyone can hear the battle now and the townsfolk scream when the orcs’ battle cries shake the manor.

“Quiet!” Is that your voice? It is. Your eyes slide to the frightened faces behind you. “You’ll distract the knights.”

Sarah steps up alongside you. “And let the orcs know exactly where we are.”

The villagers quiet into aborted whimpers and muffled sobs.

The battle rages, louder and louder. Are orcs big? They sound big. When you close your eyes you can hear the way their feet pummel the earth. Do they have weapons? Metal clashes. A knight screams that their hides are too thick. The Lord shouts back to aim for their eyes. A table splinters, a bow sings, there’s a liquid gasp—

BOOM!

You slam your hands against the door, muscles straining as another blow lands against it. The wood convulses under your hands and the lock creaks. The villagers scream.

“No,” someone whispers. “No, they found us.”

You’re eight and the snow spirits are howling for blood. Your shoulders ache with the effort to hold the door against the wind. The cold is biting at your fingertips and there is an old hope dying in your chest--

Small hands slam against the door next to yours. Hera is snarling and swearing, Josiah is crying. Sarah is telling the kids not to worry, Isla and Hera and Josiah won’t let them in –

They’re here. You’re not alone.

“GET AWAY FROM THERE!”

The orc’s bellow isn’t nearly as loud as Ivan’s roar.

The blow you’re bracing for never comes. Ivan goads the orc to follow him, to leave the manor alone, to eat the man readily available to him—

It does not sound like the knights are winning now.

“My Lord!” Marie’s voice is strained.

“Do not fall back, they’ll corner us—”

“Who is that? Who is—”

The crack under the door lights with a sickly purple. The smell of ozone seeps into the manor. For a moment there is a silence so complete you think you’ve been struck. What was that? Magic? You’ve never seen magic before--

Screams rocket across the field. The Blacksmith’s screams. The Baker’s screams. Marie’s rage-filled howls.

“DEMON KING!”

Your Destiny burns.

---.

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

----------------

Thanks for reading! If you'd like read the last part of Isla a week early, please consider supporting me on Patreon(X)!

[megamett44-lover]

can you do the reader seeing matt with a little kid (around 5 or 6) and getting some crazy baby fever? thank youu <3

UGH I LOVE THIS

Matt Sturniolo x Reader

Summary: In which Y/n brings Matt to her family reunion

Warnings/Notes: She/her pronouns

Requested? Yes!

Dress Up

Bringing Matt home with me for my annual family reunion was insisted upon by my parents. My whole family absolutely adored him, always asking me to bring him around more. Hence why now, here we were, about a ten minute drive away from my grandparents home, where everyone would be meeting.

Having never met my extended family before, it was understandable for Matt to be nervous. He held my hand as he drove, lightly brushing his thumb over my knuckles every few seconds.

“You okay?” I ask, squeezing his hand lightly.

He looks over at me, trying to hide his nervous expression. “All good.” He says.

I nod, turning my attention back to the road. “You don’t have to stress, everyone is gonna love you.”

He chuckles. “If I can win your dad over, I’m sure I can do anything.”

I roll my eyes. “Please.” I say. “You never had to win him over. He was practically calling you ‘son’ before he even met you.”

“Right.” Matt laughs.

Siri breaks our conversation, telling us to turn left and our destination would be on the right. As we pulled into my grandparents drive way, a wave of nostalgia hit me. The long gravel path leading to an old white plantation house surrounded by the most beautiful flowers. I had helped my grandmother plant different flowers in her garden for many Summers when I was younger. The neatly trimmed hedges wrapping around the edge of the porch that my grandfather always insisted on keeping up himself because “nobody else could do the job right.”

I noticed many other cars parked out front, indicating a lot of my family members were already here. As we parked, I kissed the back of Matt’s hand. “Ready!” I asked.

“For sure.” Matt smiled.

As we walked onto the porch, the sound of laughter could be heard from inside. We didn’t even have a chance to knock before my grandmother opened the door.

“My Y/n!” She said, embracing me. “I’ve missed you so much!”

“Hi, Gran.” I say, returning her hug.

As we pulled away, she noticed Matt beside me.

“Now this must be the young man I’ve heard so much about.” She smiles at Matt.

“All good things, I hope.” Matt chuckles nervously.

I laugh. “Gran, this is my boyfriend, Matt.”

“Pleasure to meet you dear.” My grandmother says, embracing Matt as well. Pulling away, she smiles at us both. “Well come on, everyone has been asking for you.”

Walking instep with my grandmother and Matt slightly ahead, she leans in and whispers softly. “He’s handsome!”

“Oh, Gran!” I laugh.

“I’m serious!” She says. “If I was only 60 years younger, I’d give you a run for your money.”

As we walked into the crowded parlor, we were greeted by a chorus of “Hey” and “Welcome home”. A lot of family come up to me, since the last time I had seen most of them I was young. Most of them were eager to meet Matt, having heard I was dating a “famous Los Angeles boy”.

Excusing myself for a moment, I go grab a couple waters for Matt and I from the kitchen.

“Oh hey, Y/N.” My aunt says, seeing me enter. Her and a collection of other family members were working on tonight’s dinner, the smell immediately making me hungry.

“Smells great in here.” I compliment, grabbing two bottles of water from the fridge.

“Thanks!” She beams at me. “Oh, your cousins are around here looking for you. They wouldn’t stop talking about how excited they were to see you.”

I laugh. “I’ll keep a look out for them.”

My aunt and uncle had two twin girls, Charlotte and Katherine. They had just turned six and they were adorable. I had spent a lot of my youth babysitting them, resulting in me having an older sister relationship with the girls.

Walking back to the parlor, I notice most of the family had gone to the back yard. Scanning the yard, I cannot seem to see Matt anywhere. I grab my phone to text him, but then I hear giggling coming from down the hall followed by a deeper laugh that I recognize to be Matt’s.

Walking down the hall, I notice the light in the playroom is on. I hear a few voices coming from inside.

“We’re going to make you look so pretty.” I hear a young voice that I recognize to be Katherine’s says.

“Oh, really?” Matt asks.

“Yes!” Charlotte assures. “Y/n is going to love it!”

I peek in the doorway to the playroom to see Matt sat on the floor, with my cousins braiding his hair. I notice he has a few hair bows in, along with a feather boa around his neck.

I giggle softly, watching my cousins give him a makeover.

“Can we paint your nails?” Charlotte eagerly asks.

Matt looks down at his nails, the old paint peeling off of them.

“I think I’m in need of a manicure, so sure!” Matt agrees.

“Kat, grab the princess stickers and pink polish!” Charlotte demands.

Hearing this, I accidentally laugh too loud, giving my position away. All three of their heads whip in my direction.

“Y/N!” Charlotte and Katherine say in unison, running up and hugging my legs.

“Hi, girls.” I say, bending down to hug them. “I see you’ve stolen my boyfriend.”

“Don’t you think he looks pretty?” Katherine asks, motioning towards Matt.

“I think he looks gorgeous.” I say, making eye contact with Matt, who chuckles softly.

“We were going to paint his nails, do you wanna help?” Charlotte asks.

“Of course!” I say, eagerly.

“Yay!” Both girls say in unison.

Sitting down, we begin painting Matt’s nails a bright shade of pink, complete with princess stickers on every other finger. When we were finished, we slowly walk Matt over to the mirror to check out his new look.

“I look awesome!” Matt says, bending down to the girls level. “Thank you, girls.” He opens his arms for a hug, as both girls practically tackle him.

I smile softly, my heart warming at the sight.

“I think next time, we should bring our princess dress for you to wear.” Katherine says.

Matt laughs. “I think that would be amazing.”

“Yeah, but we have to bring the Cinderella dress.” Charlotte says. Katherine raises a puzzled eyebrow. “To match his eyes, duh!”

“What do you think, Y/n?” Charlotte asks.

“I think he would make a beautiful Cinderella.” I smile, causing Matt and the girls to laugh.

A loud voice interrupts our laughter from the kitchen.

“Girls, dinner!” I hear my Uncle call.

“Our dad wants us!” Katherine tells Matt. “But we’ll finish this makeover another day.”

“I’ll be counting on it.” Matt winks, ruffling her hair.

The girls laugh as they run down the hall to the kitchen. I look at Matt, who’s covered in glitter from the feather boa.

“I’ll be their Cinderalla, as long as I’m your Prince Charming.” Matt says, pulling the boa off.

I laugh. “God, you’re cheesy.” I grab his hands, looking at the pink artwork on his fingernails. “I can’t wait to have this life with you one day.”

He pulls me into a hug, covering me in glitter. “I promise, one day, we’ll have all of this.” He says. “Every day.”

I lean back, grabbing one of the braided strands of hair. “I’m really digging these braids, though.”

“Yeah?” Matt laughs.

“Yeah.��� I smile, pressing a small kiss on his lips.

“Now c’mon, I’m starving!” I say, leading him to the kitchen.

Matt stops on his tracks. “What, dressed like this?” He asks.

I smirk. “What, you embarrassed?”

“Never.” He replies, putting his boa back on before we exit the playroom.

[sanjisjuul]

Jealousy!

Summary:: Law's emo ass shows up and Sanji gets jealous

Cw: Cursing, penetration, pussy eating, kinda breeding i dont know its late

Major credits to @kibblz-n-bitz for helping me out ily

Word count: 4.4k

Mdni 18+

the slight sway of the ship relaxes you as you lay out on the deck. above lies pale blue skies, the sun radiates down through the atmosphere, warming your tanned skin as a soft breeze gusts past, sweeping your hair off of your shoulders. the day couldn’t be any more ideal, as the chatter from your crew served as pleasant background noise to the otherwise emptiness of your mind.

zoro rests by a nearby railing, muscular arms crossed as he takes his afternoon nap. nami is caring for her tangerine bushes. holding hedge shears, she’s smiling and laughing with robin as she waters her small yet vibrant flower garden. usopp and chopper sit cross legged on the lawn, engrossed in a board game. luffy sits between them, tongue poking out of his mouth as he studies their every move. franky is nowhere to be found, most likely toiling with a new gadget in his quarters. brook is perched on a bench by the lawn, horse haired bow sliding along his violin strings as he plays a soothing tune. 

these are the days you cherish, no conflict, no marines, no enemies. just the days you get to spend with your best friends. the days where everybody is gathered near and most importantly safe. you smile to yourself as you relax your eyes, resting your arms behind your head, breathing in a sigh of relief. you begin to loose track of time, focusing your senses the serenity of the sea, before you’re interrupted.

“y/n,” a whisper comes from beside you. you open one eye, your peripheral revealing your smiling boyfriend standing over you, casting a shadow. you sit up in your chair, eyes lighting up at the view his charming, handsome face.

“sanji,” you reach your arms out for him. he kneels down to your level, resting his head on your shoulder, as his arms wrap around your figure. his large hands glide up and down the small of your back as he takes in the sweetness of your scent, sunscreen paired with your favorite shampoo. 

“hi darling,” he whispers pressing a soft kiss into your shoulder before leaning back at an arms length, kneading your shoulders with his thumb. “i’m making some refreshments right now, would you like one?”

you smile in admiration, eyes wide as you stare up at your lover, “of course love, what did you make?” you rise to your feet, stretching your limbs and yawning loudly. you don’t miss sanji’s gaze as it rakes your body in its entirety. you’ve been dating for a while now, but that will never prevent him from admiring your beauty.

“your favorite,” he grins offering his hand for you to take. “raspberry iced tea.” you grasp his hand bringing it to your lips before you press a soft kiss his fingers. the cool metal of his rings causing a small shiver to chill your bones. “you know me so well.”

you stride hand in hand, following him towards the kitchen. just as he’s about to push the door open you hear a small racket coming from behind you. you snap your head around to find luffy, chopper, and usopp have abandoned their game. instead they are leaning over the railing of the ship, hollering and waving towards something in the near distance. you squint your eyes, just barely making out a yellow figure that slowly emerges from the sea. you release sanji’s hand, face lighting up as you bolt down the stairs. you almost skip towards where your crew mates gather, hanging your upper body over the rail alongside chopper. as you predict, it’s none other than the polar tang which means only one thing to you.

once the submarine fully surfaces, you direct your focus onto the front door. the doorknob jiggles for a moment before it’s swung open, revealing the familiar face of trafalgar law. you hear cheers from beside you, luffy jumps up and down calling out to the other captain, as chopper’s eyes light up at his entrance.

“tra-guy,” luffy bellows waving his arms back and forth dramatically as if law isn’t about 10 feet away. law rolls his eyes, before casting a room over the ship. you feel a gust behind you and all four of you pivot on your heels. law stands in front of you, long jacket open, revealing not only his tattooed torso, but the ab muscles etched underneath his skin. he adorns his signature irritated expression as he tsks under his breath. “straw hat-ya,” he speaks, avoiding eye contact all together.

“tra-guy!” luffy exclaims, marching towards him and wrapping an arm around his shoulder, pulling him in for an embrace. law’s expression becomes visibly more frustrated at the closeness. “didn’t expect to see you here,” luffy chuckles, arm tightening around law’s larger figure. law tries his hardest to distance himself, face as far away from luffy’s as physically possible as luffy pats his back aggressively. “well, whatever the reason,” luffy starts. “no-“ law attempts, but luffy interrupts . “lets’s have dinner!, sanji, food!” luffy cheers disregarding any protests from the irate captain. you hear a grumble from sanji before the kitchen door is slammed shut.

with the help of franky’s craftsmanship both your crew and the heart pirates gather around a large table for dinner. once sanji places both silverware and the dishes on the table, the heaps of food follow. as always it looks delicious, a colossal pile of linguini sits in a bowl along with various seafoods mixed inside. you lick your lips as this is your all time favorite dish, especially when prepared by your talented boyfriend. 

luffy immediately stretches an arm,, grabbing the bowl and shoveling pasta onto his plate, leaving the rest of you to eye the bread on your otherwise empty plates. luffy is interrupted by a kick on the head by sanji, “leave some for the rest shithead,” he growls before snatching the bowl away and placing it back at the center of the table. luffy frowns, but soon forgets his agitation while he shovels the food he did manage to grab into his mouth. 

you peer in front of you, law sits directly across the table, his eye twitches irritatedly as he awaits his turn. you can’t help but stare at the captain. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive, and although you have a boyfriend, it’s not like you would ever cheat. plus with sanji’s antics you find no harm in looking. “y/n-ya,” your daze is broken as law glares at you, offering you the dish of pasta. you freeze, your breath hitching in your throat as you observe the way his tattooed fingers grip the porcelain. his icy eyes bore into yours as you reach a shaky hands up for the bowl, but you jump as it’s seized from his grasp. 

“let me,” sanji smiles. he scoops you a helping, before treating himself. “thank you baby,” you whisper before digging into your food. your eyes roll back at the flavor, nothing could ever compare to sanji’s cooking. the entire table is filled with only the sounds of chewing as everybody savors the meal in front of them. luffy wastes no time in grabbing seconds then thirds as everybody continues working on their first course. you finish your meal quickly, taking a small sip of water as you sit back in your chair. again, you focus your attention on law as he chews his meal. your eyes close in on his lips as he licks them clean after a bite. you feel a hand rest on your thigh and lightly squeeze, but you pay no mind as you continue to watch as he finishes his serving, leaving only the piece of bread in its wake. 

you hear the flick of sanji’s lighter beside you. he inhales the smoke from his cigarette and exhales it in front of him, letting the smoke cloud around law. “you gonna eat that?” sanji questions, pointing a finger at laws plate. law gazes up and makes eye contact with your boyfriend, “i don’t like bread,” he responds matter of factly before sipping the glass of water in front of him. sanji slams his hand on the table angrily, “i don’t give a shit,” he snaps, “you won’t waste food on this ship.” everybody falls silent around you as sanji’s eyes narrow. “i’ll take-“ luffy starts.

“no!” sanji yells slapping luffy’s outstretched arm, “he’s gonna eat it!” you reach your hand up and tug sanji’s arm, causing him to sit back in his chair. he doesn’t break his fiery gaze as you rise, snatching the bread off of law’s plate and eating it. “y/n,” sanji starts, disappointment laced in his voice, but he falls silent as you finish it. “see babe, no big deal,” you smile as you sit back in your chair. sanji takes a drag of his cigarette before aggressively putting it out on the ashtray besides him. “i guess not,” he says blankly, face expressionless. law breaks his gaze from sanji, rolling his eyes before speaking,,“thanks y/n-ya.” you feel heat rush to your cheeks, “no problem.”

dinner ends awkwardly, and everybody gathers on the deck. brook plays a tune on his violin as most dance and drink away. zoro sits alone, watching and smiling as he takes a sip from his sake. luffy, usopp, chopper, and franky dance away along with bepo, penguin, and sachi. robin and nami stand beside you as you sip on glasses of red wine. they converse, trying to get your attention, but it’s futile, your attention is once again trained on the captain of the heart pirates. he stands across the deck, leaning over the rail, long legs crossed as he peers up at the star filled sky.

your legs act before your mind does, as you don’t even bother to excuse yourself from the girls, and walk towards him. you approach him quietly, sipping from your glass. he turns to you briefly, before training his gaze back up to the sky. “i’m sorry about dinner,” you break the silence, “sanji can be a hot head sometimes, but he means well,” you smile. he merely hums in agreement, not tearing his eyes away from the view above.

you feel a pair of hands rest on your hips, before you’re turned around softly. sanji stands before you, his head leans down towards your level, “darling,” he smiles kindly, “i hate to ask, but i may need some help in the kitchen.” he presses a kiss into your forehead. you mirror his expression, “i thought i’d never see the day you ask for help,” you chuckle as he releases his grip on you. you follow sanji as he paces to the kitchen, oddly enough he doesn’t hold your hand as he usually does. you play it off as him being stressed. he does have to clean up after more than double the people as usual. 

he holds the door open for you as you enter. you halt and raise an eyebrow at the sight. the kitchen seems spotless, the table has no signs of previous use, there aren’t any dishes in the sink, and the counters are spotless. you open your mouth to question why he asked for help, but the sound of the door locking causes you to freeze.

you squeal as you’re lifted off the ground and swung over sanji’s shoulder. he marches down the hallway and into your shared bedroom before kicking the door shut so hard it almost fly’s off of its hinges. he softly rests you on the bed before hovering above you. he inhales his cigarette, flicking it to the floor and stomping it out beneath him before loosening his tie. you gawk as he leans over you, arms resting on either side of your head as he cages you in. 

“why?” he questions, hurt apparent in his eyes. you furrow your eyebrows, completely oblivious to what he was talking about. “huh?” you respond, gripping his forearm reassuringly. “don’t be so naive,” he starts, “you’ve been staring at him all night. am i not enough?” he grits his teeth. sanji practically seethes with anger above you as the heat from his body radiates onto yours. “i-.” he shakes his head, cutting you off, “don’t try to downplay it. this isn’t the first time this has happened.” you start to feel guilty, you didn’t expect sanji to pick up on your actions, but he clearly noticed, and it obviously hurts him. 

“sanji, baby no,” you start, cradling his face in your hands, “you are enough, i love you so much i would never.” you press a kiss into his forehead and you can feel his tense body relax under your touch. his face closes in on yours as he presses his lips onto yours.

your muscles previously taught, loosen beneath him as he tenderly kisses you. his lips cradle yours with admiration before he swipes his tongue past onto your lower lip. you part your mouth, granting his offering, mewling underneath him. his arm reaches for your leg, wrapping it around his torso, leaving no space between your bodies. you reach your hands up to his hair, your fingers tangle in his locks, as your tongues continue to fight for dominance. 

you gasp as his mouth leaves yours, immediately latching onto your exposed collar bones, nipping and sucking at the soft flesh. your leg tightens around his back, hands balling into fists as he grinds down onto you. you can feel him through his slacks, he’s warm and rock hard. “mine,” he growls, warm and wet tongue drawing a line from your collar bones up to your throat. “all mine,” he wraps his mouth around the skin, sinking his teeth in softly as he sucks hard, surely leaving a mark.

your body contracts, “that feel good?” he questions. you nod, lifting your hips to meet his as he repeatedly and slowly dry humps you into the mattress. his lips leave your neck and he cranes his head up to look at you. you audibly moan at the way he stares at you. the smallest rim of ocean blue surround the black of his blown pupils. his eyes reveal his emotions which are ones of lust, passion, and jealousy. 

he remains his eye contact as one of his hands slips past the hem of your shirt. he torturously slides his large hands up the expanse of your torso, starting at your hip, reaching your lower stomach, up your ribs, and landing on your bare breast. you hiss at the contact, the icy metal of his rings immediately stimulate your nipple, causing it to harden. his other hand follows , wasting no time to palm at your other breast. the tips of his fingers dance over your other hardened nub, refusing to give you what you want as he lightly flicks back and forth.

you’re pliable underneath him, squirming and whining at every feathery touch he gives you. he rarely teases you in this way, always giving you exactly what you want without asking. sanji has one rule and that is that he lives to serve you. however, that unwritten rule is tossed aside as he lets you crumble underneath him, patiently waiting for you to ask, to beg for it. 

the sensation of your juices flowing freely down your thighs puts you in a slight discomfort, but theres not much you can nor are willing to do. your mind clouds as he brings your nipples between his fingers, just barely tugging at the sensitive flesh, eliciting a strained moan from the depths of your chest. at this point you can’t handle his teasing, the faint whispers of his touch aren’t enough, you crave something more. “sanji,” you mewl, your tongue swiping the cracked skin of your bottom lip, “please touch me.” at your words he slowly removes his hands out from underneath your shirt, leaving a trail of goosebumps as the warmth of his flesh is replaced with the frigid night air.  he brings a hand up to your head, patting your disheveled hair from your face, before trailing his thumb down your jawline. he slows his movements upon reaching your chin, before trailing up and letting his thumb tug on your bottom lip. 

you freeze as his eyes scan your face, he’s searching for any signs of apprehension, to which there were none. you couldn’t be any more enthralled with the man leaning above you. nothing and nobody could compare to the immense joy and comfort he brings you. nothing could compare to the tingly feeling you get when he holds you, letting you rest your head on his chest as he sleeps peacefully beside you night after night. and nothing could compare to the way he satisfies you both mentally and physically, nobody could make you feel the way that he does. and although he’s aware of this, your actions previously in the day have him questioning it all, so he makes it his mission to remind you. to remind you that you’re his and he’s yours. 

you reach for his hands, interlacing your fingers with his, but are struck with a twinge of hurt when he stands up, slowly releasing your grip and letting your arms bounce back on the mattress. he continues holding eye contact, unreadable expression painting his features as he hovers over you. after what seems like hours, he lowers his gaze onto himself. he shrugs his suit jacket off, before untying his tie. he paces slowly over to the nearby desk, back turned to you he folds both pieces of clothing before placing neatly them down. he starts working on the buttons of his shirt, intricately popping each open before peeling the blue dress shirt off, placing it on top of the small pile.

you clench around nothing at the sight of his back, lean muscles of his biceps and deltoids ripple as he puts his hands in his pockets. he turns back towards you, silently eyeing you as he approaches. he resumes his position, leaning back over you, and this time you wrap both legs around him tightly, scared to let go. “my love,” he whispers, reaching down to pull your shirt over your head, freeing your breasts with a soft bounce. “let me remind you,” he tugs off your skirt, tossing it on the desk. “let me remind you how good i make you feel.”

any response you could come up with falls flat, your mind focuses on the hungry actions of your boyfriend who’s now positioned between your legs, kissing up and down the inners of your thighs. you attempt to squirm, but his firm grip holding your legs to the bed prevent any sort of movement. he licks a stripe up your left thigh, then right one, allowing himself to lick past your outer labia, but not where you need him the most. you’re sure he can see how much you crave him, there’s no way he can miss the way your slick seeps through the thin fabric of your panties, and coats your trembling thighs. 

his teasing halts, as he licks one last stripe, this time letting his tongue glide up your center and pressing a soft kiss to your clit. he releases his grip on your thighs, running his hands up your hot flesh and hooking his fingers around your panties, slowly pulling them down as he looks up at you. he stuffs your underwear in his trouser pocket, saving it for later, wasting no more time to dive into your sex. 

whimpers leave your parted mouth as he slowly licks up and down, making sure to flick his tongue against your clit every chance he gets. he groans into your cunt, the taste and aroma affecting him greatly as his cock twitches, beads of precum soaking his boxers. the vibration from his mouth reverberates through your pussy, causing fire to erupt throughout your entire being, and settling in your lower stomach.

his lips latch to your clit, pressing soft kisses paired with kitten licks in between, causing you to loose composure as your hips buck up into his mouth. sanji would take this over receiving any day. the way your flushed face contorts in utter pleasure is more than enough for him to get off to. not to mention the way you tremble, one hand clawing at the sheets as the other toys with your nipples it a sight to behold. he prefers it this way, after all theres nothing better than a satisfied lady.

you feel his finger prod at your entrance, his movements on your clit never seizing as he sinks his finger into you with ease. you whine as he tests the waters, steadily pumping in and out of you as to let you get used to the feeling. 

your core is boiling as he pumps his large finger in and out of you, hooking it up to hit your g spot each time. you’re already close, sanji knows your body better than his own. he’s studied any and all reactions you give him, keeping mental notes of what makes you feel good and what doesn’t. his expertise shows as he removes his finger from your entrance, his lips pressing one last kiss onto your clit before he grabs you by the hips, flipping you over on your stomach.

you cry out as he reinserts his finger, reassuming his previous pace while his tongue finds your clit once again. you sit up on your knees, back arching as he eats you out from behind. drool soaks your sheets, fingers twitching, and legs shaking as he works up his pace, rapidly licking you clean, and inserting another finger inside you.

“sanji,” you whine, your body starts convulsing, muscles twitching as he pulls your orgasm from deep within you. he only hums as a response, never daring to stop his actions in fear that your high will be ripped away. the rumble of his voice causes you to let go, mewling and crying as your orgasm overtakes your body. you come undone on his face, and although he tries to savor every last drop, your juices coat his beard and drip down his chin. you pant feverishly, arms working their absolute hardest to keep you upright as he laps you with his tongue.

he wraps his arms around your stomach, gently helping you lay down before kissing your shoulder tenderly. your hear the metal of his zipper slide down from behind you, the rustling of fabric follows before you feel his length rub your core. “you ready darling?,” he questions as he coats himself with your juices, shuddering at the warm feeling. you merely nod and whisper a small “yes please,” and he takes that as his cue to enter you.

he slowly grinds into you, stretching you to capacity as he bottoms out. he fucks you slow and deep, making you whimper every time his tip kisses your cervix. “my god,” he groans gripping the fat of your hips for leverage, “it’s like you’re made for me.” you struggle to respond, too lost by the fire that fills your body with each roll of his hips. his fingers dig into your plush skin, he grips you as if you’re about to melt away through his palms. 

to your surprise he picks up the pace, his hips speedily pounding you, the rough sounds of skin slapping satisfy him to the fullest. sanji isn’t the type to fuck hard and fast, he usually savors the moment for the longest he can, but you have awakened something inside of him. he wants you teary eyed, screaming his name for everybody to hear. he needs everybody to know you’re his, especially that emo fuck. 

and to his utmost pleasure, your whimpers turn into loud wails. shouts of his name leave your mouth, his cock churns your insides in the best way possible. “that’s right,” sanji smirks, arms snaking around your chest, bringing your back flush with his chest. his lips hover over your ear, causing shivers to traverse down your spine. “need to hear you, need to hear how good i make you feel,” he bites down on the shell of your ear, soft hands grip your breasts and tug your nipples through the tips of his fingers. “let everybody hear, don’t hold back.”

chants of his name are followed with profanity are spewed from your mouth as you try to cope with the immense pleasure he gives you. a loud knock on your door almost distracts you as you snap your head in it’s direction, but that doesn’t stop sanji. he can’t stop even if he tried, the way you suck him in leaves him pussy drunk, completely intoxicated by the spell you have him under. 

“gonna cum baby,” he grunts, his hips sputter as he jackhammers you. “want it inside, please,” you beg arm reaching up to his head, pulling it in the crook of your neck. sweat drips down both your bodies before you hear a loud hiss come from your boyfriend. with one last deep thrust, he keeps it in, filling you with his seed. the warm feeling of his cum coating your insides drives you insane, but also brings a new sense of closeness. his cock twitches as rope after rope of cum is pumped inside of you, his body pulsates as small whimpers leave his lips. 

you both gasp for air, his arm still tightly wrapped around you as he nuzzles his head into your hair. you cherish the moment as the seconds tick by. your sticky bodies in their most vulnerable state are glued together, the humid air surrounding was not only proof of what just happened, but a reminder of the passion you share for each other. 

he moves your hair off your shoulder, kissing the exposed skin, “i’m sorry,” he whispers a small apology nuzzling himself into your back. you part your lips to speak, but are cut off, “i just can’t stand the thought of you… being with someone else. you are my world.” he finishes, voice cracking at the end of his sentence. 

droplets of warm tears flow down his cheeks, dropping on your back and slowly sliding down. you muster up all your remaining strength, turning to face him. “hey,” you soothe, thumbs wiping the tears from his watery eyes, “you’re my world, i never want to picture a day where you aren’t mine. i love you sanji and only you.”

he sniffles, wide eyes meeting yours, “promise?” you lean in, kissing him softly on the forehead, “promise.”

tags: @leakyweep @stardustcrustaders @leftsidebonfire @kibblz-n-bitz @pileofmush

love, bia ૮ • ﻌ - ა

[dee-writes-smut]

LILIES (Chapter Six)

FEATURING Eris Vanserra x pregnant!reader

SUMMARY moving on from Eris is impossible, the grief you carry around is unbearable even with the help of your new (ish) friend Lucien.

CONTENT WARNINGS angst, arguing, leaving, grief (over someone who is still alive), major injuries, labor, brief descriptions of blood, Beron (iykykyk), themes of depression, mentions of reader not taking care of themselves, mentions of eating struggles

AUTHORS NOTE only two more chapters to go until it's all over!! I am so sad to see this amazing experience start to come to an end especially because I treasure each and everyone of you who has enjoyed my writing and decided to come along for the ride. Try not to kill me after this chapter, k? >:)

SERIES MASTERLIST

The days following Eris’s departure were a blur of heartache and despair. Each morning, you woke with the heavy realization that he was truly gone, the emptiness beside you a stark reminder of the love and companionship you had lost. You found yourself drifting through the hours, your mind replaying the moments of your last encounter, the anguish in Eris’s eyes haunting you.

Lucien was a constant presence throughout that week, his concern for you unwavering. He visited your chambers multiple times a day, bringing you meals and ensuring you were taking care of yourself and the baby. Despite your best efforts to hide your pain, Lucien saw through the facade, his keen eyes missing nothing.

“Have you eaten today?” Lucien asked gently one morning as he entered your room, carrying a tray laden with food.

You looked up from where you sat by the window, staring out at the gardens below. The vibrant colors of the flowers seemed muted, the beauty of the world outside failing to penetrate the numbness inside you. “I’m not hungry,” you replied softly, turning your gaze back to the view.

Lucien set the tray down on the small table beside you, his expression a mix of concern and determination. “You need to eat,” he insisted, pushing a bowl of fresh fruit toward you. “For the baby’s sake, if not for your own.”

At the mention of your baby, you placed a protective hand over your swollen belly, feeling the gentle flutter of movement beneath your palm. “I know,” you sighed, picking up a piece of fruit and taking a small bite. The flavors were bland, your appetite dulled by the overwhelming sorrow that clouded your mind.

Lucien sat down across from you, his gaze unwavering. “I’m worried about you,” he admitted, his voice filled with genuine concern. “You can’t go on like this. You have to find a way to move forward, for your sake and for the baby’s.”

Tears welled in your eyes, and you looked away, unable to meet his compassionate gaze. “I don’t know how,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “Everything feels so hopeless without him.”

Lucien reached across the table, taking your hand in his. “You’re stronger than you realize,” he said softly. “You’ve faced so much already, and you’ve come out the other side. You can do this too.”

Despite his comforting words, the days continued to blend together in a haze of grief. You spent most of your time in your chambers, the outside world seeming distant and unimportant. Lucien’s visits were the only interruptions in your solitary existence, his presence a reminder that you were not entirely alone.

As you sat by the window, your eyes tracing the familiar paths of the garden below, memories of the walks you and Eris used to take together filled your mind. You recalled the way his hand would fit perfectly in yours as you strolled through the winding paths, the conversations that ranged from deep thoughts, insecurities, and fears to light-hearted banter about nothing at all. Those moments had felt like pure magic, a respite from the chaos of the world, and a testament to the bond you shared.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the room in a warm, golden light, Lucien entered with a gentle knock. “I brought you something special,” he announced, holding up a small box. “I thought it might cheer you up.”

You managed a small smile, appreciating his efforts to lift your spirits. “What is it?”

He opened the box to reveal an assortment of your favorite pastries, the sweet aroma filling the room. “I remember you mentioning these once,” he said, placing the box on the table. “I had the cook make them for you.”

The gesture touched your heart, and for the first time in days, you felt a flicker of warmth. “Thank you, Lucien,” you said, your voice choked with emotion. “You’ve been so kind to me.”

Lucien smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “It’s the least I can do,” he replied. “You’re important to me, and I want to see you happy again.”

Lucien coaxed you out into the gardens the very next week, his persistent kindness finally wearing down your reluctance. At 39 weeks pregnant, every movement was a chore, and you had been experiencing intermittent pains that you brushed off as mere discomfort from carrying your child. The idea of visiting the gardens, a place where you and Eris had built so many memories, filled you with a mix of nostalgia and pain. But Lucien’s gentle urging and genuine concern convinced you to give it a chance.

“Come on,” Lucien said, his voice soft but insistent. “The fresh air will do you good, and the gardens are beautiful this time of year. It might help to clear your mind.”

“I don’t know, Lucien,” you said, placing a protective hand on your swollen belly. “It was our place, where we grew to know and love each other. I’m not sure I’m ready.”

Lucien knelt beside you, his eyes filled with understanding. “I know it’s hard. But sometimes revisiting those places can help us heal. You don’t have to say anything, just let the garden work its magic. And I’ll be right there with you.”

You looked into his earnest eyes, seeing the care and concern that had been your lifeline these past few weeks. With a deep breath, you nodded. “Okay. Let’s go.”

Lucien helped you up, and you both made your way to the gardens. The sun was warm, a gentle breeze rustling through the leaves, carrying the sweet scent of blooming flowers. The familiar pathways brought a lump to your throat, each step a painful reminder of the love you had lost.

As you walked, the intermittent pains in your belly became more noticeable, but you brushed them off as mere discomfort from being on your feet. Lucien pointed out various plants and flowers, trying to distract you with light conversation. Despite your initial reluctance, you found yourself beginning to relax, the beauty of the gardens working its magic as Lucien had promised.

“You know, I’ve always loved this part of the garden,” Lucien said, stopping by a cluster of vibrant roses. “It reminds me of home, of simpler times.”

You managed a small smile, your mind drifting back to the countless times you and Eris had stopped at this very spot, sharing stolen kisses and whispered promises. The memory brought a fresh wave of pain, but also a bittersweet comfort.

Lucien’s voice broke through your thoughts. “How are you feeling?” he asked, his eyes filled with concern.

“I’m okay,” you lied, wincing as another pain shot through your abdomen. “Just a bit tired.”

Lucien frowned, his sharp eyes noticing your discomfort. “Are you sure? You seem a bit… off.”

You waved off his concern, not wanting to worry him. “It’s just the baby being active, I think. Nothing to worry about.”

He nodded, though his expression remained skeptical. “Alright, but if it gets worse, promise me you’ll let me know.”

“I promise,” you said, trying to sound reassuring.

As you continued to walk, the pains grew more frequent and intense, but you were determined to push through. You didn’t want to spoil this moment, this brief reprieve from the constant ache of your heart. But as you neared the center of the garden, where a small fountain gurgled peacefully, the pain became too much to ignore.

Lucien’s eyes widened in alarm as you doubled over, clutching your belly. “Hey, are you alright?” he asked, his voice filled with panic.

“I think… I think something’s wrong,” you gasped, the realization finally dawning on you that these weren’t just random pains. “Lucien, I think I’m in labor.”

His face paled, but he quickly sprang into action. “Okay, we need to get you to the medical wing, now.”

As Lucien hurriedly pushed you through the ornate hallways of the palace, aiming for the medical wing, your discomfort escalating with each moment, the last thing either of you expected was to run into Beron. The formidable lord of the Autumn Court was not supposed to be aware of your presence within the palace, a secret Eris had helped to keep. Yet there he stood, emerging from a shadowed alcove, his sharp gaze landing on you with immediate suspicion.

“Lucien, what is this?” Beron's voice cut through the tension, as cold and unwavering as the stone walls that surrounded you. His eyes flicked from you to Lucien, narrowing in displeasure.

Lucien, momentarily taken aback, recovered quickly, his arm instinctively tightening around you as if to shield you from Beron’s piercing gaze. “Father, she needs help. We were just—”

“Who is she?” Beron interrupted sharply, stepping closer. His towering presence felt oppressive, his aura exuding authority and control.

You could see Lucien hesitate, his eyes darting between you and his father, weighing his words. “A friend who requires immediate medical attention,” he attempted to explain, his tone carefully neutral.

Beron’s eyes finally settled on your swollen belly, his suspicion turning into derision. “A friend, or another of your irresponsible entanglements?” His voice was laden with scorn. “We do not run a charity for wayward souls here, nor do we harbor strangers without my knowledge.”

Lucien’s jaw tightened visibly, and he opened his mouth to protest, but Beron cut him off with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I will not allow it. Remove her from the palace immediately. She is not to receive aid here.”

Panic flared in your chest as you clutched at Lucien's arm, your other hand pressing against the waves of pain that threatened to buckle your knees. “Please,” you managed to gasp out, the effort leaving you breathless, “I need help.”

Beron’s gaze on you was unyielding, his decision firm. “Take her to the city or wherever you wish, but she leaves the palace grounds now. We will not be involved in this farce.”

Lucien, a mixture of anger and desperation painting his features, tried once more. “Father, she’s in labor, she could die if—”

“Not our concern,” Beron interrupted coldly. “You know my rules, Lucien. Now, obey them.”

Defeated and running out of time, Lucien nodded curtly to his father, the resignation in his eyes cutting deeper than any words could. He supported you gently, leading you away from the medical wing and towards the main entrance of the palace. Each step was agony, and your mind raced with fear not only for your unborn child but also for the lack of compassion from someone you had hoped might show even a trace of empathy.

The cool evening air of the Autumn Court hit you as Lucien guided you through the palace gates. The streets seemed darker, more foreboding than ever before, and as you stepped into the unknown, supported by Lucien, the harsh reality of your situation settled heavily upon your shoulders. You were alone, vulnerable, and in desperate need of care, cast out by the very power that ruled the land you now walked upon.

Lucien's steps quickened through the dimly lit streets of the Autumn Court, each of his movements marked by a desperate urgency as he supported your faltering steps. The pain rippled through you with increasing intensity, a relentless tide that drained your strength and muddied your thoughts.

"Please, Lucien, I can't," you gasped, the sharp spasms of labor gripping you tightly, forcing you to a sudden, halting stop. Your hands clung to him, your body bent in agony.

Lucien’s face was a mask of concern, his eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of help. "Just a bit further, we’ll find someone, a healer—anyone." His voice was strained, a thin veneer of calm barely concealing the panic beneath.

You shook your head, each movement a stab of pain. "No, I—I need Eris. Please, Lucien, find Eris. I can't do this without him," you pleaded, tears streaming down your face, mingling with the sweat of your brow.

Lucien hesitated, his gaze torn between you and the path ahead. "I don't know where he is," he admitted, his voice cracking with frustration. "And we don’t have time—he might be miles away."

But the pain was overwhelming, and in a heartbeat, your legs gave way, pulling both of you down into the gritty cold of an alleyway’s cobblestones. You collapsed against the hard ground, the rough edges biting into your skin, Lucien scrambling to cushion your fall.

"I can't walk anymore," you cried out, the words a choked sob. "Please, just go. Find him. Leave me, I can't—"

"No!" Lucien's response was vehement, his hands gripping yours tightly. "I won't leave you alone like this." His eyes darted desperately from your pain-contorted face to the empty street. There was no one, no help in sight, and the realization of your isolation seemed to settle heavily upon him.

He rushed you to every shop down the street, dragging you along as best he could, but it was late, and the few healers he could think of were not answering, their shops closed, their homes silent.

"Please, Lucien, you have to go—find Eris," you begged again between contractions, your voice barely above a whisper now.

Lucien looked down at you, agony etched across his features, torn between his instinct to stay and protect you and the desperate plea in your eyes. Finally, with a heavy heart, he nodded, squeezing your hand one last time. "I’ll find him," he promised, his voice thick with unshed tears. "Hold on, just hold on."

With that, Lucien stood, casting one last look at you lying vulnerable and writhing in pain, before turning and running back towards the palace, leaving you alone under the shadow of the night, hoping against hope that he could bring back Eris in time...

Alone and in agony in the shadow-strewn alleyway, you lay curled on the unforgiving cobblestones. Each contraction was a fierce, unrelenting wave of pain, tightening its grip around you, pushing you to the edge of consciousness. But now, an even more terrifying sensation joined the physical torment—a warm trickle of blood that stained your legs, a stark and frightening indicator of how dire your situation had become. Your skin, once flushed with the warmth of life, now felt clammy and cold, your body sweating despite the chill in the air.

Your mind, a whirlpool of thoughts and emotions, relentlessly circled back to Eris—his laugh, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, the gentle timbre of his voice when he shared his deepest insecurities and dreams. The ache for his presence was overwhelming, engulfing every other sensation. Tears streamed down your face, mixing with the grime of the alley, each one a testament to your regrets and the secrets you had kept hidden—most of all, the truth about Lucien being the father of your child. This secret had fractured the foundation of your relationship with Eris, driving a wedge between what could have been and what was.

Amid the despair, you made a silent, fervent vow. If you made it through this night, you would cast aside all shadows of deceit. Lucien would hear the truth about everything, and you would pray for Eris’s forgiveness and understanding. Determination to no longer live behind the veil of secrets fortified your resolve.

Raising your head with great effort, blurred by pain, your gaze fell upon a small miracle—a cluster of purple lilies pushing through a crack in the cobblestones. Their vibrant petals stood out defiantly against the oppressive grey of the alley, a splash of color in the darkness. These flowers, thriving against all odds in such an inhospitable environment, became a beacon of hope for you. Their resilience was inspiring, their beauty a stark reminder of life’s persistence even in the most unforgiving circumstances.

You clung to the sight of the lilies, letting them anchor you through the waves of pain. They became a symbol of your own will to endure, to persist through the darkness and fear that enveloped you. Each painful contraction was met with a whispered promise into the chilly night air—promises of honesty, of love reborn, of a future where shadows would no longer darken your path.

In that desolate alley, under the dim glow of distant streetlamps that fought their way through the thick fog, the purple lilies stood as silent witnesses to your struggle. They seemed to encourage you to hold on, to fight through the pain and despair for your unborn child, for Eris, for the chance at a cleansed and open future. With each labored breath, you held onto the hope that Lucien would return swiftly, and that perhaps, he would bring Eris back to your side, in time to mend what had been broken and to welcome a new life together.

As the city's misty tendrils wrapped around the winding alleys, Lucien's footsteps echoed against the cobblestones, each one a thunderous drumbeat in the night. His breath came in ragged gasps, a desperate symphony of exertion and urgency. The dim light of distant streetlamps flickered overhead, casting long shadows that danced along the walls.

His heart pounded in his chest like a war drum, a relentless rhythm driving him forward with single-minded determination. The weight of his fear and concern for you hung heavy on his shoulders, urging him to push himself harder, faster, toward the medical wing where he hoped to find help for you.

The narrow streets seemed to blur together as he raced through them, the buildings looming like silent sentinels in the night. Shadows flickered and danced at the edges of his vision, teasing him with glimpses of what lay beyond. Every corner turned, every alley crossed, brought him closer to his destination, but the distance felt insurmountable, the obstacles in his path endless.

His senses were heightened, every sound magnified—the distant cry of a night bird, the rustle of leaves in the breeze, the faint echo of footsteps following his own. He dared not look back, for fear of what—or who—he might see.

Every fiber of his being was consumed by a single, relentless thought—to find help for you, to ensure your safety and well-being. With each passing moment, the weight of his fear and concern grew heavier, driving him forward with an urgency that bordered on desperation.

As he rounded a corner, his foot caught on a loose cobblestone, sending him stumbling forward with a sharp curse. But before he could regain his footing, he collided with a shadowy figure that loomed out of the darkness.

For a heartbeat, time seemed to stand still as Lucien recoiled, his heart pounding in his chest like a trapped animal. But as the figure stepped forward into the dim light of a nearby streetlamp, Lucien's breath caught in his throat.

"Eris?" he gasped, his voice barely more than a whisper. But the figure said nothing, its features obscured by the shadows, before vanishing into the darkness once more.

TAGLIST

@purple-writer8 @defnotlucienvanserra @cherry-cin @julesofvolterra @mirandasidefics @mandziaaa @lilah-asteria @littlestw01f @skylarkalchemist @babypeapoddd @daardyrnitta @talesofadragon @thecraziestcrayon @asaucecoveredsomething @starryhiraeth @darling006 @rosewood-cafe @saltedcoffeescotch @dumblani @paleidiot @rcarbo1 @yourmomsushi

[misc-obeyme]

Mer!MC Headcanons - Side Characters

Well, one person asked as we know that's all it takes! So here are the side characters. Yes, that includes our three undateables! (But not Luke... I coulda done a platonic one for him I suppose but well... I didn't lol.)

Some of these got a touch lengthy but I still like how they turned out. I hope you all enjoy them!

read the older brothers here and the younger brothers here

GN!mer!MC x Diavolo, Barbatos, Simeon, Solomon, Mephistopheles, Raphael, and Thirteen

Warnings: just a little bit of drowning danger/imagery in Mephisto's

Diavolo

Diavolo is lingering in the castle gardens after a particularly entertaining tea time with Lucifer and Barbatos. He’s alone - the others have gone inside. He’s walking around the garden when he notices an unusual ripple in the water of the pond there. He stops to watch it and catches a glimpse of your tail, just barely breaking the water’s surface. He is instantly curious and crouches close to the edge. You peer up at him from beneath the still waters, unwilling to surface at first. But his smile lures you out despite yourself.

He wants to know everything about you. How you got there, where you’re from, anything you’re willing to tell him. He’s amazed to find you’re from the human world. How did you manage to end up in the Devildom? Diavolo settles in beside the pond and you talk for hours. Eventually, Barbatos comes looking for him and you hide in the pond plants.

He comes back every day to check on you. He’s working on finding a way to send you home because he thinks you must long to return. He scolds himself when he realizes he secretly hopes he never finds a way. He wants you to stay here, with him. He’s drawn to you. When he isn’t with you, he’s thinking about how you must be lonely there in the pond’s depths without him. He rushes to return to your side as soon as he can.

He can’t help wanting to touch you. Your skin, your scales, your lips - you’re so unusual and he’s captivated by how gorgeous you are. He constantly brings you gifts, little things that remind him of you. He’s thrilled when you bring him things, too. Pretty pebbles you find or a particularly lovely flower you could reach from the water. You only ever reject one gift when he brings you a way to return to the human world. He’s relieved. He wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything if you left him now, MC. He works on finding a spell that will give you legs instead.

Barbatos

He’s in the forest area behind the castle, looking for specific Devildom tea ingredients. He knows the area well, having spent hours foraging there. He makes his way to a lake he knows that is further back in the trees. There is a specific flower that grows here that he likes to include in certain tea blends. But this is the first time he’s ever seen a merperson in the waters. You don’t see him at first, sitting upon a large rock, your tail just barely trailing in the water, your skin glistening in the starlight.

Barbatos watches you for a little while, not wanting to disturb you, but also not able to walk away. You’re mesmerizing and he can tell from a glance that you’re from the human world. He thinks of all the ways you could have ended up here. Likely some spell or possibly a spot in the river where the veil between worlds was too thin. It would be a simple matter to send you back. Too cautious, he leaves you alone. But he can’t stop himself from returning. The flower is an easy excuse to see you again.

You spot him, finally. Perhaps you’ve always known he was there. Perhaps he deliberately didn’t hide himself as well as he could have. You bring him a handful of flowers from the other side of the lake. You know what he’s there for. He asks for your story and you tell him everything - how you ended up here, how you’ve adapted to your new surroundings.

Barbatos suggests sending you home. You surge up onto the rock he first saw you on so you can take his hands. He’s startled by your boldness, but he finds he can’t pull himself away. You tell him that you would miss him if you left now. You have plenty of time and you know he does, too. Why not spend some of that time together? He smiles - soft, gentle, full of unexpected feeling. He would love nothing more than to stay by your side, MC.

Simeon

He’s on his way to the local Devildom fish market because he’s looking for ingredients for a dish he’s planning to make. But on his way, he gets a little distracted by the dark waves of the ocean nearby. He takes a detour to appreciate the sound of the water and finds himself squinting at a glimmer in the distance. As he watches, it comes closer and closer until eventually, you’ve washed up on the shore at his feet, glittering with water and brightly colored scales, a net tangled around you.

Simeon falls to his knees in the water, not caring about his clothes getting wet. You're struggling against the net and he can see that it's hurting you. He talks to you gently, calming you enough so that you'll stop thrashing. He works slowly and methodically, doing his best not to hurt you further. He finds a sharp shell to cut through the net, carefully detangling it from around you. When you're free, you swim out a ways, but you come back to him shortly. You're holding several of the exact fish he had just been on his way to purchase. He takes them gratefully.

He can tell right away you're not from here. When he asks you, you answer easily. He's gained your trust and you're not afraid of him at all. So he learns you're from the human world, that you aren’t sure how you ended up here. He knows how it feels to be out of place. He talks to you for some time, hoping to find out if he can help you return to where you belong.

Simeon brings you some of the food he makes with your fish the very next day. You continue to supply him with freshly caught Devildom fish, some of which are admittedly a little concerning. He always suggests finding a way to send you home. You always tell him that he has made the Devildom feel like home for you. Eventually, he stops asking. You find he likes to trace the pattern of the scales on your tail, his soft fingers making you shiver. You're unlike anything he's ever seen in any of the three worlds, MC. He can't help but feel happiness that you're here in this world with him.

Solomon

He’s experimenting in his laboratory as usual when the magic circle he’s working on suddenly activates. He’s surprised when you appear in the center of it, somehow summoned here from the human world. How did he even manage to do that? He doesn’t have time to figure it out because there’s a merperson glaring at him and flapping their tail angrily on his lab table. He picks you up right away, to prevent all his magical items from being knocked off and smashed.

Fortunately, Solomon has a large tub-like bucket he can put you in. He fills it with water with a simple spell. Then he has to spend several minutes apologizing profusely as you chew him out for summoning you at random. He’s also laughing, though, and you can’t help but start laughing along. It is pretty funny. And he is really cute.

You start asking him what he was trying to do. Your curiosity gets the best of you, but you find Solomon is ready and willing to explain the intricacies of the magic he was trying to perform. His enthusiasm is really adorable. You can’t help but continue to ask questions, if just to keep him talking. But inevitably, he mentions that he now has to find a way to send you back. You’re instantly opposed to this idea. You like it here, you tell him. As a merperson, you have your own natural magic. Maybe you could help him.

Solomon agrees to let you stay for a bit. He gets a large tank that he alters with magic so you have a whole ocean habitat inside of it. You help him with experiments and he finds he lingers near your tank much longer than he really needs to. He can’t stop watching the way your scales glitter in the water. When you’re partway out of the tank, he can’t stop himself from reaching out to touch your skin, leaving his fingertips damp. One day he tells you the truth. He wants you to stay with him always, MC. He teaches you how to use your magic better, how to do spells and make potions. He’s amazed at your abilities, as well as your ethereal beauty. He starts sleeping in his lab to be closer to you. In the end, neither of you bring up the idea of returning you to the human world again. But if you do go back, it will be because you’re going back with him.

Mephistopheles

As a member of the Devildom elite, Mephistopheles has access to what can only be described as a yacht. He takes it out into a calm bay, simply because it’s a nice day for sailing. Or at least it was until an unexpected thunderstorm closes in. The yacht is tossed about violently and high waves pouring over the deck wash him overboard. He’s sinking and fighting until his vision goes dark. When he comes to, he’s looking up into your eyes. It takes him a moment to realize his head is pillowed on something soft, that he’s still halfway in the water, but mostly on land.

Mephisto sits up and looks at you, realizing that his head was resting on your tail - bright, shimmering scales that sparkle in the moonlight. He’s amazed, staring at you in surprise, but all that registers on your face is concern. He didn’t know there were merpeople out here - he’s never seen one. That’s when you tell him you’re from the human world.

Perhaps he would have been unlikely to consider befriending you if you hadn’t saved his life. There was no question that he would have drowned if you hadn’t pulled him out of the agitated ocean. Human world or not, he knows he owes you. He offers to find a way for you to go home and you agree. He spends hours researching to find the best way to send you back. It takes some weeks, but he returns to the bay to give you updates on his progress. He won’t admit that he’s captivated by the way your eyes light up when you see him.

He finally finds the spell and he's about to say the words, but he stops when he looks at you. There's always a been a watery sheen to your eyes, but he can still tell you're about to cry. He stares at you for a moment and then deflates a bit in defeat. He's grown fond of you and at this point he'll say anything to bring back your smile. He can't look at you, though, his eyes on the sky and a blush on his cheeks. Do you want to stay here in the Devildom, MC? If you do, he'll make sure you're comfortable. He peeks at you to find the smile restored and he tries not to be irritated by the way his heart squeezes.

Raphael

He's returned to the Celestial Realm temporarily for a short visit. There's a long stretch of beach where he likes to practice with his spear, so he goes to see it again only to find you playing in the bright sunshine with a pair of celestial dolphins. When they spot him, the dolphins hide, but he watches as your eyes go wide and you swim a little closer to shore.

Raphael is concerned immediately. There are no merpeople in the Celestial Realm. How did you even get here? He wades out into the water, not worrying about his clothes - they can dry later. He gets as close as you'll let him. You seem to be okay with his presence, even allowing him to reach out and touch you. The soft dampness of your skin makes his gut twinge, but he ignores that feeling. He asks you questions and finds out you're from the human world. How you ended up in the Celestial Realm is a mystery. All he knows is he has to get you out of here.

He realizes quite quickly that his best bet is to simply carry you out of the Celestial Realm himself. But when his visit is over, he has to return to the Devildom. He explains this to you, but you seem unperturbed. You tell him that you don't care what world you're in, as long as you get to be with him. It makes him blush quite prettily.

And so when it's time for Raphael to leave, he picks you up out of the water and walks you out of the gates. He gets some odd looks from a few cherubim, but his threatening glare is more than enough for them to look the other way. He brings you to the Devildom where he finds you a nice lake near Purgatory Hall to live in. You're his responsibility now and he'll be sure to take care of you. But don't misunderstand him, MC. It's your inner light that keeps him coming back to you.

Thirteen

Thirteen's cave is quite large, but she's intimately familiar with every part of it. She's re-enforcing the traps in its various locations one day when she's startled by unexpected ripples on her underground lake. It's a large lake and sometimes there are fish there, but she's never seen ripples like these. And then a pair of eyes are peeking at her from across the water as you rise up just enough to see her.

She's immediately concerned. How did a merperson end up in her cave? And how long have you been there without her noticing!? When she learns you're from the human world, she's irritated. Who sent you here? Is this some kind of prank? She highly suspects a certain sorcerer. But in the end, it doesn't matter. You don't know what happened. And she needs to send you back.

You're reluctant already. You've been in this lake for some time now and it feels like home to you. Thirteen tries to argue with you about it, but she can't help letting you stay on for a while. You're pleading eyes get to her. She brings you food and finds herself sitting with you nearly every day. Sometimes you talk for hours. You have a lot of questions about her life and she's surprised at how easy it is to tell you all about it. She also notices the way your skin shimmers in the dim light of the cavern, the strange and watery look of your eyes and your hair and your scales.

You become a permanent fixture in Thirteen's cave. She builds a trap for that particular location that incorporates you. Any time it catches someone, you tell her all about it in excitement. One day she asks you if you miss your home. You tell her that you do sometimes. But that if you left, you would miss her more than you miss your home now. The blush this produces is the sweetest thing you've ever seen. That's good, MC, because you're part of her set up now! She's not likely to ever let you go.

older brothers | younger brothers | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[mochinomnoms]

I love your idea for Hanahaki! Like you said, it's always so tragic and dramatic and angsty (and who am I kidding, I'll keep reading it), but your take on it is so refreshing!

For the event, can I request Ruggie with 15, Trey with 1, and Jade with 18? Romantic; fluff and/or suggestive, please?

And if I completely misunderstood how to request properly, I'm terribly sorry. 😬

So excited to see more of your work!

part 2: jade leech x gn!reader ruggie bucchi (15); trey clover (1) [separate] x gn!reader [tags] – fluff, suggestive [wc} – 2,500+ each prompt 15: “Sooo, are you gonna apologize for puking dahlias all over my breakfast?” prompt 1: “Why is your trash can full of flower petals? Are you secretly a botanist, or is there something you're not telling me?” note - both ruggie and trey got real long, so i will post jade's snippet separately later! a floral inconvenience

Dahlias – In pre-Colombian Mexico and Guatemala, wild-growing dahlias and their tubers were seen as a food source. 

Ruggie has been absolutely miserable for the past week, as one would be when they have mysterious large, red flowers sprouting out from their mouth and head. It also didn’t help that all the other second-years, especially the twins, were giving him a hard time. 

“Hey, hey Jade! You know plants.” Floyd was currently picking at the flower that Ruggie just spit out, undeterred by the spit on it. 

“I bet we can figure out who Sharksucker likes if we figure out what flower he’s spittin’ out. What kind is it? 

Jade leaned down to study the intense red, ray-like petals, poking at the central disk of yellow florets in the middle. Ruggie was NOT a fan of how interested Jade was, attempting to lean out of the twins’ grasp. 

“Hmm, I’m not sure. I certainly haven’t seen it on any of my hiking expeditions or in the botanical gardens.”

Ruggie yelped as Jade plucked a flower from a particularly sensitive spot behind his right ear. 

“Ow! Watch it man!” 

Rubbing his ear, Ruggie glared at Jade, who was still looking curiously at the flower bringing his arm down for Azul who also seemed eager to identify the flower. 

“I certainly don’t recognize it either, looking up similar flora, there aren’t any that are quite the same as this one.”

Ruggie could just make out under Azul’s breath, “Imagine all the money we could make if we say we discovered a new flower!”

He scoffed at Azul, rubbing his eyes from mental exhaustion. The twins and Azul weren’t the only ones interested in his hanahaki. 

“It’s a really pretty flower, Jamil! Do you think we have any like it in the gardens back home?” Kalim eagerly asked, trying his best to lean in without disturbing Silver, who’d fallen asleep on his shoulder. 

“Hmm, no I don’t think so.” Jamil looked mildly interested, holding a hand to his chin. “The Asim gardens have a variety of exotic and rare flora, so the fact that we don’t recognize this one is certainly interesting.”

Jade chuckled, “So, it would be easy to narrow down the person of Ruggie’s affections, yes.”

“Why are you all suddenly so interested in my love life?” 

“Why, we’re being benevolent, of course!” Azul replied, a cheeky grin on his face.

“Yea Sharksucker, it must be reeeeal annoying to puke up flowers all the time. Besides—” Floyd gave a nasally laugh as Jade continued his sentence.

“—wouldn’t it be nice to have some assistance getting rid of his annoying sickness? After all, with your background, you’re not the most eligible bachelor around.”

“Okay, first of all fuck you—” Ruggie jabbed a fork in his direction. 

“Not interested, but thank you.”

“Second of all—ew no, gross—second of all, you guys aren’t exactly the most pinned for guys, even with your family money.”

Riddle let out a laugh, nodding in agreement. “Certainly, no price in the world could make up for your personalities.”

“Aww, come on Goldfishie.” Floyd pouted. “You don’ wanna go out with me? Why? I don’t meet your mama’s standard?”

“Why you—”

“Hey guys!”

A chipper voice interrupted a reddening Riddle, who looked like he was ready to launch himself over the table to strangle Floyd. Ruggie perked up to look at you and Grim perched on your shoulder, carrying a lunch tray with some coffee, a bowl of oatmeal, and a singular powdered donut. 

Adjusting the tray in your hands, you let Grim jump off onto the table as you sat. You grabbed the donut with your freed hand and reached your arm out to Ruggie.

“Hey, I got you a donut, powdered’s your favorite right?”

Oh. Oooooh powdered was indeed his favorite. So were you. By the Seven, he thinks that you’d be his favorite snack. You were so cute. Your lips looked soft, plush. He wondered if you took a bite out of the donut if the first thing he’d taste was you or the sugar. 

Opening his mouth to reply, Ruggie found himself instead choking, a tickling sensation developing in the pit of his stomach and growing up his throat to his mouth. He gagged as various shades of bright red blooms fell out of his mouth and onto the table. Specifically, onto your tray as you sat directly across from him. 

Ruggie could make out the stifling laughter of his peers . He internally groaned, looking at your tray, now covered in red flowers. Riddle tapped his shoulder, offering him a cup of warm tea. 

“Here, it should help soothe your throat.” 

Taking the cup, he started drinking what he thought was honey lemon tea, soothing his throat. 

Across the table from him, you let out a soft cough, drawing his and the other’s attention. 

“Sooo, are you gonna apologize for puking dahlias all over my breakfast?”

The tea went down the wrong pipe. Ruggie started choking, Kalim frantically reaching over to pat his back. 

“Oh? Does the Little Shrimpy know this flower?” Floyd asked, he and his brother slithering over to sit on either side of you. Their eyes met briefly, then at Ruggie, both giving him a knowing grin.

“Dahlias? Yeah! They’re my favorite!” you answered, blissfully unaware of the predicament they’d just put him in. 

Ruggie wished he could be just as carefree.  

The other five slowly turned their heads to stare at Ruggie, each looking especially gleeful and teasing. 

“You don’t say?” Jamil drawled, smirking at Ruggie, whose state of mind was rapidly deteriorating. “We’ve never heard of it.”

You looked at Jamil in surprise. “Wait really?”

“Yes, these, dahlias you called them? They’re not from Twisted Wonderland.” Riddle had a mischievous smile, tipping the end of Ruggie’s cup before he could interject, making him choke on the tea again. 

“Aw really? That kinda sucks.” you pouted, twirling one of the loose flowers in your hand. “I love them, fun fact, did you know you can eat both the flower and the tuber?”

Ruggie would never admit it out loud, but your cute, excitable grin makes him feel all warm and giddy inside. He’d even give you his grandma’s homemade donuts if he got to see more of it. 

By the Seven, he’d give you his donuts. He really had it bad.

“Really? How fascinating! Isn't it Ruggie?” Jade asked, giving a closed mouth smile. The tone of his voice made it clear though, he and the others figured out you were the root cause of his hanahaki. 

Ruggle got up abruptly, snatching the donut from your hand (why miss out on free food?) and the breakfast sandwich he’d gotten for Leona. 

“I gotta go take Leona’s breakfast to him, I’ll see you guys later—”

“Wait, Ruggie!” Kalim cries out, startling Silver awake. “But the Prefect knows the flowers—”

“WOW I GOTTA GO! BYE GUYS SEE YOU LATER!”

Ruggie rushed out of the cafeteria, red petals flying behind him as he ran. The remaining 8 at the table stared after him, you in particular looking confused. 

“Is he okay?” You asked, looking confused and disappointed. “Did I say something wrong?”

“Ah, perhaps we went a bit too far…” Jamil muttered. 

Riddle sighed as he nodded in agreement, “Yes. Don’t worry yourself about it Prefect, we were discussing something else, you didn’t say anything wrong.”

You hummed as you cleared off your tray of dahlias, taking small bites of your oatmeal. 

“Why’s he puking flowers?”

The group stayed silent, sharing knowing looks with each other. The twins and Azul in particular were smirking, while Kalim perked up. 

“Oh he has hanahaki, it’s like a love sickness.” Kalim blissfully replied, Jamil pinching his nose and sighing heavily. 

“Love…sickness?”

Riddle placed a hand on Kalim’s shoulder, giving him a stern look. “We had our fun earlier, but it’s not our business to share his medical information with anyone.”

He turned his gaze to you, making you shrink in on yourself. “It would be best to ask him yourself, Prefect.”

Floyd tsked. “Aww, that’s no fun! Don’t you wanna help Sharksucker? You do, dontcha Shrimpy?”

The twins leaned into your ears, like an angel and devil on your shoulder if the angel was just a devil with a halo and wings taped on. 

“Why, you care for Ruggie, don’t you dear Prefect?” Jade cooed, chucking at your pink cheeks. 

“Hehehe, of course they too, look at their blush!” Floyd giggled, poking at your right cheek. “Little Shrimpy isn’t a shrimp for nothin’!”

“And after all, only you can help him!” Azul came up behind you, startling you as he placed his hands on your shoulder. 

The trio chuckled, coercing you to listen to their honeyed words, feeding on your soft spot for the hyena beastman. 

Riddle shared a look with Jamil before sighing and walking off. Jamil followed suit, grabbing Kalim by the arm to drag him away before he too, inevitably, got involved in their scheme. Silver, now that he was bright and alert, similarly left, nodding at you. 

Here you were, alone amongst the “benevolent” Octavinelle trio, now regretting waking up early to get breakfast instead of just sleeping in.

Ruggie had been leaving trails of dahlias behind him all day, getting on the ghost janitors’ ire and lectured by Crewel specifically. 

“Loose flowers in a lab is the perfect example of a hazard to lab safety! Have you not gone to the nurse to get this taken care of?!”

He hadn’t had a fit since seeing you this morning, luckily. He had noticed you in the hallways in between classes though. Everytime your eyes met his own, you’d flush and rush away. 

“Ugh, one of the guys must’ve told them.” Ruggie groaned, slumped over as he walked over to the kitchens, feet aching from running around his shift at Sam’s and now Mostro Lounge. 

Azul had asked him to collect some perishable items that he’d purchased from a supplier, having it delivered to the school’s walk-in fridge until he could have someone pick it up. 

Jade and Floyd were supposed to be there, ready to help, but they were nowhere to be found. Ruggie shrugged, walking into the kitchen and heading to the fridge before he felt himself get yanked by his collar. 

“Hahahehehe! Be sure to thank us later, Sharksucker!”

“Fuhuhu~ Indeed Ruggie, I’m sure you’ll appreciate it later.”

“Oof! Hey!” Ruggie stumbled into the pantry, landing on something soft. “What the-Jade, Floyd this isn’t funny—”

“Mmph!” The floor beneath him started wiggling and groaning, startling Ruggie. His eyes were slowly adjusting to the dark, his hyena genes serving him well as he yelped, looking down.

A white cloth was tied around your mouth while your hands and feet were bound by what looked like Floyd’s scarf. Ruggie’s ears and dahlias drooped down as he saw that your cheeks were covered in tear tracks. 

"Mmmphie! Mmmphie! Mmmph mmph mmph!" came out from behind the tightly-bound cloth.

“W-what? FLOYD! JADE! WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU TWO?!” He could hear the twins’ laughter from outside the door. Ruggie started pounding on the door with his fist, growling before freezing, hearing your muffled crying.

The hyena scrambled to turn on the light switch before returning back to your curled up form, gingerly untying the bound on your mouth. 

“R-r-ruggie!!” You bawled out, fresh new tears spilling out of your eyes as he undid the knot on your hands, then feet. 

“Hey, hey it’s alright Prefect, Y/N? I’m here—AH!” He yelped as you launched yourself in his arms, landing on his back, red petals flying . He stiffened as you shoved your head into the nook of his neck, hiccuping as you began babbling. 

“I’m sorry Ruggie!!!” Softly glowing dahlias started popping up from between his ears and vines growing down his arms as he spat out petals. 

“What’re you talking about? This isn’t your fault—”

“But it is! Azul and them said you were sick and that it was my faaaaault!” He froze, pulling you away to look at your teary eyes and snotty face. 

Gods you looked terrible. Red-faced, puffy eyes, and pout made you look like an ugly crier, not doing you any justice. Ruggie couldn’t help the squeeze in his heart as you reached back out to clutch onto him again. You were the cutest ugly crier he’d ever seen. 

“What? What do you mean—”

“They said that my crush on you’s been making you puke the flowers!” Ruggie’s ears perked up, and despite the growing blush and the resembling dahlias, he let you continue.

“Your crush?”

“My crush!!! It’s making you sick, a-and that I needed to confess to make it go away but-but-but-” You wailed, Ruggie allowing you to shove your head into his chest. 

“I was embarrassed! Then Floyd got mad a-at me and he and Jade tied me up and threw me in here.”

Ruggie hummed in response. It made sense now why Azul specifically asked him to collect the produce from the kitchen, instead of letting him manage the floor like usual. 

“They said I was ’ppose to be a present. I’m sorry Ruggie, I didn’t mean to drag you into this.”

He let out a heavy sigh, rubbing the back of your head affectionately.  

“Nah, it’s not your fault entirely.” He tilted your chin to look up at him. “You are the reason I got the flowers, but not cause of your crush though.”

You made a questioning noise, blinking curiously at him. You looked like one of the kids back home after throwing a tantrum. 

“Shyehehehe! They didn’t say what the flowers ‘re from?” Ruggie laughed as you pouted, pinching his cheek.”

“What do you mean? Is it still my fault? And I basically just confessed! I’m crying in a closet, just confessed and you’re laughing at me!”

Ruggie’s laughter died down as he grabbed your hand, moving it to cradle his cheek instead. His ears perked up as he heard your soft gasp, his eyes meeting yours, blown wide. 

His tail wagged, despite himself. “It’s cause I like ya, Prefect. I like ya so much that it makes my stomach ache and flowers sprout from all over. I gotta hand it to ya, for a cute little herbivore, you sure got your teeth dug right into my heart.”

You scoffed, using your other arm to wipe your face clean. 

“The dahlias make sense now…did you at least try eating them?”

He let out a barking laugh, followed by your giggling. “I thought about it! I spat out enough of them that I got sick of the taste, besides…”

Ruggie could hear the rustling of his tail under his clothes as he wrapped an arm around your waist, grinning wider at the gasp that left your mouth as he yanked you onto his lap. 

He pressed you against him until your bodies were flushed against one another. Heat pooled in the pit of his stomach as he gazed up to your flustered face. Ruggie nuzzled his head into your chest, feeling your rapidly speeding heartbeat. 

“Ruggie…” You tangled your hands through his hair, making him groan as you gently pulled his head back and rubbed the backs of his ears. 

You leaned down to graze your lips over his, giving Ruggie a heady whine as he nibbled on your lower lip.

“Shyehehe~ You’re awfully clingy for a poor little hyena like me, you sure I meet your standards?”

Despite his attempt at humor, Ruggie was sure that you could hear the apprehensive tone in his voice, your eyes softening. 

Instead of pointing his insecurity out, you answered his question with a deep, open-mouth kiss. He groaned into your mouth, returning your kiss with desperation, as if you’d disappear in his grasp. 

Ruggie’s hands wandered along your sides, slipping underneath your shirt and tracing your spine, causing you to shiver in delight. You pulled away from his lips, causing him to let out a displeased growl before shifting into something closer to a purr as you left wet kisses along his neck. 

Feeling your teeth softly dig themselves into the crook of his neck and chest, Ruggie rolled his hips into yours, delighting in the moan that left you. 

Just as you started suckling, no doubt leaving a mark, his world turned upside down as he suddenly fell backwards onto the ground of the college kitchen. 

“Ow, shit!” Ruggie winced as the back of his head smacked into the hard tile flooring, you splayed over his body. 

“What is wrong with you two? When I said get them into a room together, I didn’t mean—oh my!” Azul squeaked, glasses skewed as he saw the two of you. Ruggie developing a dark red hickey and you with your shirt nearly half off. 

“Aw, see it worked out!” Floyd chirped, delighted at the turn of events. 

Jade chuckled, taking his phone out to quickly snap a photo. 

“W-what, hey! Don’t go taking pictures!” Ruggie cried out as the both of you scrambled to get up and tidy yourselves.

Jade smiled innocently. “Oh? Don’t worry, I’ll only share it with the other second years, just to win a bet.”

Ruggie narrowed his eyes at Jade. “Alright but how much did ya bet? You’re gonna split it with me right—”

The four men winced at your shrill shriek. 

“RUGGIE?! NO!” 

Zinnia – A purple zinnia flower symbolizes spiritual exaltation and honoring the divine. It also symbolizes love on a soul mate level.

Pink cosmos – In the Victorian era, cosmos flowers symbolized joy in love and in life. Dark pinks ones should be given to a romantic interest.

The latest unbirthday planning was going well. Since spring had just arrived, it was tradition for the first spring unbirthday party to have the desserts be made with the seasonal harvest. Riddle was especially happy to hear that Trey would be making strawberry and apricot tarts for this party. 

Trey was especially excited to try his hand at his mother’s sugared lavender cupcakes, a family recipe that she insisted on keeping out of his hands until he guaranteed her an in-law. 

Luckily he’d managed to convince her by telling her that the cupcakes might help him dazzle a certain someone. She was quick to mail him the original copy with the promise of a visitor during the next break. 

Now if only he could find the recipe card. 

“Hmm, I thought I brought it down from my room…hey Cater?”

“Yeah Trey?” Cater answered in a sing-song voice. 

“I can’t find my mom’s recipe card.” Trey groaned as he rubbed his face. “She’ll kill me if I lose it, can you go to my room to check if I left it on my desk?” 

Cater winked and gave him a finger gun. “Sure thing Trey! Cay-Cay in on the case! Brb!”

Trey nodded as Cater left the kitchen, now focusing on preparing the jam and frosting for the strawberry-lemon cake, which was cooling on the counter. He was so focused on making the jam and whisking the cream cheese frosting, he failed to notice a certain someone sneaking up behind him. 

“Boo!” 

Trey hummed, looking over his shoulder to look down at you with your arms out and teeth bared. “Oh, hey Y/N, you’re here early.”

“Aw booooooo! You were supposed to get scared!” You pouted at the taller man, pulling at his arm as he laughed at your little tantrum. 

“Haha, scared? Of you? Hardly.” Trey winced and held his arms up in defense, still laughing as you started to pound on his arms and back. 

“Ow, ow! Okay I concede!” He grabbed your hands, holding them over your head as he leaned down towards your face, smirking. 

Trey hovered his face over yours, enjoying your pouty blush. With a teasing lilt, he cooed, “Don’t be a brat, Y/N. Or else you won’t get a treat later~”

“Hmph, maybe I’ll just steal some later. What are you gonna do? Punish me?” You replied in an equally teasing tone, stepping on your tiptoes, making yourself just talk enough to brush your nose against his. 

“Mmm, don’t tempt me, I just might—”

“Hey Trey I found your—whoa! What did I just walk into?”

The two of you rapidly distanced yourselves from each other, Trey nearly knocking over the bowl of jam and you tripping into the table chair. 

Both of you answered Cater with a louder than needed, “Nothing!” as your faces turned the same shade as the strawberries he was baking with. 

“Riiiiight, uh, Trey I got your mom’s recipe card!” The ginger looked between you two with an absolute ecstatic grin, making eye contact with Trey and wiggling his eyebrows. 

“I can come back though, if you two need a moment—”

You interrupted, “No, it’s fine. I promised Ace and Deuce I’d help paint the roses.” 

Trey looked at you wistfully as you tidied yourself, pulling out a bouquet of dark-pink cosmos from your bag. 

“Here, you like these right? I thought you could use them to decorate the cake ‘n stuff.”

Trey smiled and accepted the bouquet of admittedly stunning cosmos, ignoring Cater’s open mouth smile and silent squealing. 

“Thanks, I’m sure they’ll go great with the cake, I’ll see you later.”

His eyes wandered up and down your body as you left the kitchen, waving your fingers as you gave a playful “Bye~”

Trey replied with his own enamored “bye” as he waved after you, a lovesick grin on his face as he watched you leave. 

Eyes still on the doorway you left through, it took a few moments and Cater waving his hand in front of his face to get his attention back. 

“Helloooo? Wonderland to Trey~” Cater sang, snapping his fingers in Trey’s face. “You’re a lil out of it, got something juicy you wanna share with me? Come on! Give Cay-Cay the deets!”

Trey rolled his eyes, swiping the recipe card from his friend’s hands. 

“There’s no ‘deets’ for Cay-Cay to know, not if he wants me to make him a spicy fruit cocktail for today.”

Cater hummed as he watched Trey resume building the strawberry-lemon cake, gesturing for him to grab stuff from the pantry. 

“Now, help me grab the lavender from the pantry, and get some more flour, I’ll need it for the cupcakes.”

“Sure! Speaking of flowers…” Cater leaned over to whisper into Trey’s ear, “why’s your trash can full of flower petals? Are you secretly a botanist, or is there something you're not telling me?”

Cater let out an uncharacteristically giddy cackle as he watched Trey drop the clean bowl he’d grabbed, whipping around to stare at him with wide eyes. 

“You saw those?” 

“Yeah, zinnias right?” Cater called out as he collected the items Trey requested. “Little Y/N’s favorite~ You want to tell me where you got so many?”

“Uh, the botanical gardens, where else?”

“Yeah, yeah. Sure, the gardens.” sneaking up from behind him, Cater plucked a light purple colored flower from the back of Trey’s neck, who hissed at the sudden prick. 

“Not from hanahaki popping up on your body, tooootallyyy!”

Trey groaned out loud, attempting to look behind him for any other blooms. “Damn it, I thought I got rid of them. Are there more I can’t see?” 

“Nah, you’re fine.” Cater waved him off, looking around the hard-to-reach places for his friend. “It was just the one.”

Trey sighed in relief, thanking Cater as he placed the bag of lavender petals in his hand, “Good, it was a pain to get them out of my hair, let alone my mouth. They’re really bitter you know?”

“O-M-G, Treeeeey!” Cater gasped, throwing himself against his friend. “That’s, like, a supes easy fix! Just confess, you already have the flowers to give!”

“Ha, I know, I plan to later.”

“Plus, with the way you two were allover each other earlier, there’s no way they won’t say yes—OMGWAITWHAT!”

Cater shook Trey by his shoulders, while the latter attempted to steady the bowl of dry ingredients in his hand, guarding it with a vigor akin to a knight and their liege. 

“OMGNOWAYWHENHOWAREYOUGONNADOITINFRONTOFEVERYONEAREYOUGONNADOITINPRIVATECANIRECORDCANIPOSTITTREYTREYTREYTREYTREY—”

Trey smacked his free hand on Cater’s mouth, effectively silencing him minus a few muffled sounds. He breathed out a heavy and deep sigh before slowly replying to Cater. 

“If I take my hand off your mouth, will you quiet down?”

Cater gave an enthusiastic nod, eyes twinkling. Trey could feel the grin against his hand, and reluctantly and slowly removed his hand. 

“...So when did you find out? When did you decide to confess?!” The ginger asked giddily, watching as Trey resumed his task at hand, preparing the ingredients for the lavender cupcakes. 

“A week ago, I overheard Ace and Deuce talking about the Prefect coughing up a bunch of pink cosmos, they were arguing over what tea would help with their symptoms.”

Cater made an ‘O’ shape with his mouth, pointing at the cosmos you’d given to Trey earlier, placed carefully on the counter. 

“You mean—”

“Mm-hm, those are probably their hanahaki, grew up with those in my mom’s garden, she used them as garnishes on cakes, especially wedding ones.”

Trey smiled fondly as he reached to grab one of the small flowers, rubbing the soft petals between his fingers. “A bit after that I started to find zinnias in my bed, coughing them up and everything. I think the nurse probably put two and two together after I went to see her.”

He shrugged as he grabbed his mother’s recipe card, twirling it in his fingers. 

“I figured, why wait? Mom always said that it was these cupcakes that snatched Dad up, I’ve always wanted to try my hand at them plus she wouldn’t pass down this recipe without a partner in the picture.”

“Oh, Trey!” Cater clasped his hands together as he squealed, “You want help? I get some of the froshies to finish up the tarts and cake, so you can focus on those! Like, don’t even worry about it boo!”

Cater winked gave Trey a half-arm hug. “I’ll make sure they follow instructions to a T! All I ask for in exchange is the exclusive right to snap the first pic of the brand-new school couple, capiche?”

True to his word, Cater was quick to round up a handful of freshmen who he’d found goofing off instead of painting roses. They were more than happy to take over Trey’s baking, after he gave them strict rules and a talking too on what to do, in order to not be snitched off to Riddle. 

Thankfully, the cupcakes weren’t difficult to make, what with his experience in the kitchen. He’d cut the recipe down by half so that he’d only make four, medium sized cupcakes. In fact, the most difficult part was making sure that he ground up enough lavender to turn the glaze a soft purple, which complemented the zinnias he’d placed in the small basket. Using the plush flowers as a cushion, he placed the blooms of your cosmos in between the gaps, creating a beautiful, pink and purple presentation. 

He was sure you’d love it, carefully hiding the wicker basket, covered by a white tablecloth, underneath the table. 

Later, Trey smiled as he looked around at the dorm members enjoying the party. His cake was a big hit, and Riddle in particular was enjoying the flower themed desserts, specially the daisy-shaped fruit tarts. 

“You’ve outdone yourself this time Trey!” Riddle praised him, “It seems that everyone has particularly enjoyed the sweets this time around. Well done, I’d expect nothing less!

Trey chuckled bashfully, rubbing the back of his head. “Thanks Riddle, be sure to praise the freshmen too, that group over there helped out a lot as well.”

Riddle nodded, his mood in high-spirits as he walked over to the group Trey gestured to. Trey raised his head to look over the crowd of red, white, and black for Cater, who was currently adjusting his slice of cake for the perfect angle. 

Grim was also with him, hungrily waiting for Cater to give him the okay to make the sacrifice of scarfing down the sweet dessert. Perfect.

Trey briskly walked over to him, basket in hand, leaning down to whisper in his ear. Cater perked up and nodded before calling out. 

“Hey Acey, Deucey! Com ‘ere real quick, Cay-Cay needs ya for a super-duper important task!”

The pair perked up mid-conversation with you, nodding at you and rushing over to Cater per his request. Trey walked over to you, though he could make out Cater asking the duo for assistance with a Magicam post. 

“Hey, Y/N.” You smiled up at him as he approached, wiping the tart crumbs from the corner of your mouth. Trey had the impulsive to lean down and lick the mess off of you himself, though he shook it away. 

“Hey, what’s up Trey!” You clasped your hands behind you, rocking back and forth on your heels, unaware of the petals. “You did great with the desserts, I noticed you didn’t use the flowers I gave you on the cake though…are they not edible?”

“About that…I actually wanted to show you something else I did with the flowers,” Trey held his hand out to you soft smile growing bigger as you laced your fingers through his. 

Trey led you to an isolated corner of the rose maze, stiffening slightly as you wrapped your arm around his, relaxing as you leaned in. The small basket was being carefully guarded against his right side, being carefully cradled like a precious stone in a gold necklace. 

The two of you remained in a comfortable silence, basking in each other’s presence like an old, aging married couple on a stroll. The image made him smile. 

I wasn’t but a few minutes later that you’d arrived at a secluded white gazebo, roses and vines crawling up the sides. It was just far enough away that the sound of laughter and chatter from the party was but a faint white noise, giving Trey the perfect ambiance needed for his plan. 

“Take a seat right there, I got something for you.” Trey gestured to the stone bench, a fitting heart-shaped backrest further setting the mood. 

“Oh? Alright.” You took a seat, still looking up at him with a curious expression. “Is it something in the basket?”

He let out a soft chuckle, “Why don’t you close your eyes and let me surprise you?” 

You squint your eyes in suspicion, scoffing as you obey.

“Fine, if I get another spoonful of vanilla extract though—”

Trey barked out a laugh. “I told you it was bitter! Now keep those eyes closed.”

“It smells sweet! It’s made of vanilla!” You huffed, flinching and then relaxing as you felt him place the basket on your lap. “That’s not the worst thing even, I’m still angry about the oyster sauce donuts!”

“Okay that one was your own fault, you saw me do the same thing with Ace and the chestnut tarts, remember? When we first met?”

You smiled fondly, as did Trey though you couldn’t see it. What Trey could see though were the cosmos blooming along your exposed nape. He let out a soft cough, spitting out a lilac zinnia. 

“Hmm, yeah, I do.” He wiped his hands clean, gingerly placing the zinnia on the bench next to you, uncovering the basket and grabbing one of the still pristine cupcakes. 

“Okay, here—” Trey took the sugared lavender stem and held it up to you mouth. “—open up and say ‘aah’~”

“Pfft—okay, aaaah~” Grinning, Trey placed the stem on your tongue and watched as you slowly chewed. 

“Well? How’s that taste?”

You hummed. “It’s sweet, flowery…it tastes like the evening tea Riddle has before bed…soooo lavender?”

Trey hummed in affirmation. “That’s right, now take a bite of this.” He unfolded the wrapper off of the cupcake, holding it up as you took a small bite. 

“Mmmh! Trey!” Your moan of delight caused a pleasurable shiver down his spine, less than pure thoughts filling his head. “It’s so good, it’s lavender too? Is it a cookie…no wait, a cupcake!”

“Heh, good guess, I have one last thing for you to taste, ‘kay?”

He watched as you eagerly nodded, mouth open for the next treat. Trey leaned down, hovering his lips over you own, noticing the light purple glaze still on your bottom lip.

Feeling his breath over your own, you stuttered out, “T-trey? What are you—mmph!”

Trey gently, but firmly pressed his lips to yours, licking the glaze and swiping his tongue along your lip as you opened up to let him in. Your hands reached to tug him by the lapel, returning his kiss with eagerness and tugging him closer and closer, gasps leaving both of your lips. 

Still hands were now wandering, gliding up your thighs and along the curve of your back, deciding to settle on the backrest. Trey found himself leaning down to match your height, knee settled in between your thighs. 

A beguiling groan rang from between your mouths, from who you didn’t know, then another as Trey’s tongue met your own. Then a gasp as you felt his hand hook underneath you as he lifted you to curl against his body, left hand still cradling and rubbing soothing circles at the small of your back. 

Your back was so far arched, chest meeting chest, that you moved your hands from their steel grip on his lapels to instead wrap around his shoulder and neck as he dipped you further to feel your body press into his. 

Trey licked your lower lip again, positive he could still taste the sweet lavender on your lip, causing you to whine as he instead took your lower lip between his teeth and tug. Breaking the kiss to observe your red face, gasping breaths, and half lidded eyes. 

He has to say, of all the cakes, cookies, and pastries he’s made and tried over the years, you were by far the sweetest, and most divine treat he’s tasted. Trey decided that he needed another taste to confirm as he lips met yours for another passionate kiss.

[honestsycrets]

enfócate ii: non-negotiable

❛ pairing | tutor!miguel x student!reader

❛ type | explicit

❛ summary | miguel has to choose his battles: insist on removing peter from your life or get what he wants.

❛ tags | schoolgirl au, spanish tutor!miguel, Miguel's jealousy, slight obsessive qualities, fuck buddies, fuck boy Miguel, mention of physical assault, hurt peter, mention of violence, breakups, non-penetrative smut, slightly unknowledgeable reader, silly playtime.

❛ sy's notes | masterlist here. please READ THE TAGS. on this fic particularly, i seem to encounter people who trigger themselves.

Miguel had many girls.

None gave a shit when it came down to it. They talked a good game over text messages and phone calls, tried their best to please him sexually, and snuck into their bed. They might even have lunch or dinner with him. Very rarely this.

He was doing his notes that Monday afternoon, scribbling away when his phone lit up. He flicked a look, realizing it was your photo that popped up. Not the many cum stained photos he had in his phone in your own folder. Those were not safe for any of his bosses to see, but one of those sweet photos that Peter’s taken.

Miguel isn’t stupid. He knows a love-sick puppy when he sees one. One look at Peter’s socials reveals many things: volunteering with a high school club to teach photography, stupid little flowers that he finds gorgeous, a number of subjects for his fine arts degrees, and on Sunday-- you. Sitting on a chunky rock in a beautiful dress in a stream, the sun bouncing off your strawberry-dusted cheeks. He has to do something about Peter.

“¿Qué pasó, Princesa? I’m finishing my notes.”

“I have something for you,” you answered. “Come outside.”

“For me?” Miguel tucks his phone between his ear and shoulder, closing his manilla folder that held a time-sensitive report. Miguel grabbed his keys and wallet, heading for the door. Everyone else was gone for the day, but Miguel did his homework in the lab.

“Sí,” you laughed. “¿Quién más?”

“Tch,”

At least those Spanish lessons are paying off. Miguel rushes down the three flights of stairs in record time and pops out the back door. You pushed past the archways into the beautiful gardens that usually obscure pedestrians from staring at scientists as they quickly woof down their food and bolt back inside to deal with whatever piteous work they had. Miguel slips on his dark sunglasses, turning his arms one over another. You have time to stop and appreciate nature, more than he could say about even himself.

“Princesa,” he hangs up the phone and takes a few steps to the tables where you were, twirling around the scent of fragrant orange blossoms. He bites back an amused smile, his voice picking up in a humored lilt. “What are you doing?”

“Dancing!” you hopped on one stone table, then the other.

“Don’t fall,” Miguel snatches you short of falling off the third table, setting your ass down with a mindful pull of your dark burgundy skirt over your thighs. “Why did you call?”

You supply him with a wicker picnic basket that was hooked over your elbow, pulling open the flap. The warm smell of meat and corn greeted his nose, finally shaking loose the smile that he had suppressed since you first called him.

“I brought you dinner.”

He blinks.

“Me?”

“You said you had to study for your test,” you looked up at the red brick building, “It’s better if you don’t get distracted by going out for food.”

He doesn’t have the heart to tell you that he usually brings his own food, regimented as he is. Miguel sets his hands on your hips and watches as you pull free whatever it was you made him. You set aside the basket and offer him the glass container and a bag of tamales, enveloped in their warm little husks.

“Menudo. And these are tamales con carne. My familia makes them every year. I brought them just for you.”

“You didn’t have to,” he murmured.

“But I wanted to.” You reached for the envelope collar of his lab coat, smoothing it down against his chest. “Besides, every one of my primas do it for their men. I can’t keep just bringing food home for Peter.”

It’s not that serious, he wants to say. There’s something soft about the way you recount it to him. He can’t stand to go against what you’re saying and instead sets the food back in its home, tucking your hair behind your ear. He traces the shell to your lobes, flicking his finger against the dripping earrings.

“Come upstairs.”

“No,” you answer quickly, leaning up to place a meager little kiss on his cheek. “You should be studying and if I go up there…”

He’d definitely get in trouble bringing his fuck buddy up to his office. Still, it might be worth it.

“I won’t get anything done,” he finishes. “Give me a real goodbye kiss.”

“You didn’t like that kiss?”

“It was a sad kiss.”

Peter was an essential part of your life.

He was closer than a friend if such things spaces between friendship and relationships existed. You supposed that in the absence of romantic relationships, friendships were the next best thing. Who else, but family, would support you? You nibbled on a hunk of toast with sweetened cream cheese and frozen berries ala Peter, whose head draped over your thigh. Your fingers combed through his thin brown hair, twirling bits around your index finger as he lay with a full belly and fuller thoughts.

“Sooo, how did it go?” Peter asked, staring at fluffy clouds that whirled by that perfectly cozy afternoon. “Did my super awesome plan go perfectly?”

You’re too shy to talk about it.

“Aw it did, didn’t it? I knew it!” Peter reached up, tickling his fingers through the ribbons of a pearl headband you wore that day. “Is he good? I hear all kinds of stuff about him.”

“Peter,” blood rushed to your face. “We haven’t…”

“Haven’t what?” he asked. “Ohhh. Oh. You haven’t fucked him? I thought…”

“We did-- just not that,” you patted his warm pink cardigan, flapping your hand down. “We haven’t you know--”

“Had sex?”

Peter could be too much sometimes. Today was one of those aggravating days. You settled down your hunk of toast, bobbing your head in a nod, eager to explain without making the words. “Just… oral. I couldn’t Peter, I’m not ready yet.”

“I know,” Peter’s tone goes soft. “But he can’t be happy about that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Every time Miguel has a new girl, he makes sure to fuck them as soon as possible. Keeps ‘em connected, or something, or that’s what Dana says.”

“Who’s Dana?” you chirped after him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You… looked so sad seeing him with someone else. I couldn’t… break your heart like that."

“You couldn’t tell me, but you could kiss me?”

“It was a nice kiss. Isn’t it about time for him to stomp past here?”

You wonder what Peter might mean by that. He slid his eyes shut, humming with one long leg thrown over the other. About time for his afternoon nap until you shook him awake because of your sore arms or back-- whichever came first. He slides his eyes shut, going to sleep under the feeling of your fingers twirling through his hair.

“You’re impossible, Peter.”

Peter was always right. You spotted your muscular man walking past the hedges, in a clean white shirt that obscured nothing about his muscles. You thought he would do what he usually did: wave, move on, talk to whatever whore of the day was on his arm.

He was walking with a girl who was tall and lithe. She made no moves to cling onto him as he slipped down the slight grassy slope where you sat with Peter, reviewing the intricacies of corrugated pottery before class. Your heart soared in your chest as he crouched down, a hand on his knee, scanning Peter’s face.

“I thought we talked about this.”

You didn’t expect those to be the first words out his lips, but lo, they were. He regarded Peter the same way he might an annoying animal with their favourite human, with blatant distaste and a passing hint of jealousy. You didn’t understand why.

“About…”

“Other men.”

“Peter isn’t another man. He’s non-negotiable.”

Miguel’s thick eyebrows pushed together as he processed the blatant line in the sand that you drew. You weren’t about to give up your dear friend, picnic dates at lunch, or photography shoots on the weekend for a man you sucked off. No matter how good he tasted and how thick his muscles were, crouched with those wild chocolate eyes.

“I’ll stay away from other men-- but not him. You take it or leave it.”

Miguel worked his jaw, clearly debating on the value of fighting you then and there. Miguel didn’t negotiate. It was never in his nature.

“Miggy,” called the woman on the sidewalk. She wore a dark bob, a streak of purple spiraling along her head. She has a terribly squeaky tone, one that is full of ire from having to say anything at all. “The samples.”

“This isn’t over, Princesa.”

He relented. Not because he wanted to, but because time was undoubtedly limited. You were pretty sure it was.

Miguel is breaking another rule. Not only does he glaze over Peter in your life, but he brings you to his apartment for tutoring. He’d deal with Peter after he secured you. You were proving one of the most difficult of his women to keep.

Come over, it'll be private, he claimed in a text message. It’s absolutely not to peel away your soft pale pink panties nestled up against your cunt, drag them down your hips, and onto the floor. He’ll keep those.

It’s not because the desk in the study room would do nothing to obscure his sinewy frame, shoving your legs apart and dragging you to the very edge of the seat.

“Take your vocabulary quiz.” You nibbled on your pencil as Miguel buried his head between your thighs, biting down on your thick thighs to encourage you to spread your legs wider. You breathed out an elongated hiss at another bite to your opposing thigh.

“Pero, Miguel-- how…” you murmured, making the mistake of looking between your legs. Miguel met your gaze, possessed with the smell of your body. You greet him with a choked-out groan of his name the second his mouth connected with your pussy. He knew you would taste sweet.

“It’s very simple. You start writing,” The quiz should be easy. A simple finish the sentences with the right word and vocabulary word box to boot. It was terribly easy-- if not for Miguel’s tongue suckling the juices that dripped from your core, you might have already finished it. It was hard-- too hard-- to focus on anything but Miguel’s warm tongue prodding your cunt, his fingers sliding within your hole. Miguel urges his finger around the rim. “Preferably something in Spanish.”

His tongue slid from your entrance to your clitoral hood. Another finger joins the first, twisting and pulling apart your impossibly tight hole. He just knew you would feel amazing. He suckled along your lips, suckling them wet as you struggled to read and make any sense of what was on the page. It wasn’t going to happen.

“Miguel, Miguel--” Your voice drew out, it had been so long since you had a partner. “Dame más.”

“There you go,” Miguel hummed, closing his mouth around your puffy clit in worship for the admittance. The pencil tumbled free from your fingers. Without thinking, your hand buried into Miguel’s silky dark brown hair, rolling your hips onto his face to pursue an orgasm. He suckled it fat and needy, his fingers curving in your body. With a soft sob, the pleasure caused you to gush messily all over his fingers. Your fingers knotted up in his hair, riding his face until you’re left with nothing but the cozy haze of your pleasure.

You don’t know how you’re going to pass this stupid language requirement now.

Miguel kisses you, soft and sweet, gentle and light. You taste yourself on his tongue and worry about the way you taste. Miguel doesn’t seem to have a single complaint. He grabs your hands, helping you to stand upright, even though your legs were as stable as a newborn giraffe’s. With your body against Miguel’s, you could feel the outline of his cock nice and hard, tenting his sweatpants.

“Should we take this to bed?”

“I…” you asked, shyly so. “I’m not ready for that. Is that… okay?”

Coño. It’s not the answer he hoped for, but Miguel can be patient. He dips his head down and resigns himself to a night of jerking himself off. He had been looking forward to today, fucking his new girl. He steeled himself from any reaction that may inch across his face and offered you his hand.

“Claro que sí, princesa,” Miguel finds himself saying. It’s not that you can’t retract the consent, but he knows that you have some shyness to do so. He rather honesty over concern for his ego. The session had at least been an hour-- with Miguel’s focus fading at the sight of your cute little pink dress. “We can stop here. You can take the test as homework. Have it done by next time.”

“But… you’re hard.”

“It’s not the first time I’ve jerked off,” Miguel shrugs off the thought. It wasn’t how he imagined today going, but it wasn’t-- Miguel dropped his gaze down to his waistband. Your fingers tingle over the white ties, pull them loose.

“I want to take care of you,” you shoved his sweats onto the floor, pooling around his slender feet. Miguel’s cock bobbed in the cool air, impossibly hard. You walked him back from his desk to his bed. He falls back on it, his big dick kissing his muscular stomach. “Lay back.”

He found himself eagerly complying. You snatched the lube he keeps on his desk, likely knowing that he kept it there for just this reason. Miguel likes to think that his sexual needs are usually met-- but sometimes, they aren’t. You shoved his legs apart and climbed onto the bed, gliding your hands up the inside of his thighs. A warmth filled his lower belly as you popped open the plastic bottle and drizzled it over his cock. The cool liquid made him flinch.

“It’s not that cold,” you asked, a tease on your lips.

“You find it funny? Let me pour some on you, then,” Miguel remarked, his gaze following your fingers. You gripped him, soothing your palms over the top of his cock and back down, milking him like with your soft hands. You spend particular time smoothing over his root, tracing his veins up to the tip. Your thumb massaged his slit, smoothing a soft bead of fluid that gathered there.

“Do you like it?” you asked.

“It’s nice.”

He hummed and lolled his head back onto his pillow. You met him where he was, your lips against his, exchanging a soft and wet kiss. A groan escaped his chest, clearly appreciating your affection. You want him to love it, need it, and crave it at the end of the day. Maybe you could not do all the things the other women could, but there was something about the way you looked and touched him that he knew he could not easily replicate.

“Miggy. How do I make it better?” You asked, more of a whine than anything.

"Better?" Miguel reached up, cupping your breast with one hand. He gives you a squeeze, urging your nipple to harden underneath the fabric. His hazy eyes turn to the other breast, repeating the treatment. You nodded as he worked-- and it's cute how much you want to make him happy.

“Let me fuck your tits. Get on your back, take the dress off,” Miguel looked toward the bottle of lube. He finally has you naked. Every inch you peeled away revealed a little more precious skin that he’s craved to see all week. You slipped off the dress, then your bra, laying back on the sheets. The lube is lukewarm, but when it hit your warm skin, it caused you to flinch too.

“Oh, now it’s cold,” Miguel teased. You smeared the wet lube over your breasts, pushing them together just right. Warmth bit your cheeks as Miguel mounted you, either muscular thigh on the side of your ribs. Between his large body cradling your breasts and his eyes on yours, he realized that you were terribly shy. He rubs the head of his cock against your nipples before sliding between your breasts. “You’re so shy.”

“I’m sorry,” you nodded. It becomes clear that as much as you trust him-- there is some barrier to complete trust. Miguel began to thrust, his hips cantering in the warm, wet lubricant. You could appreciate every day he spent at the gym, making a physique that other men could only aspire to. He was so thick-- so handsome. His breath came out in sharp little puffs as he worked, hands coming on top of yours for both stability and the opportunity to touch you. His fingers slid between the empty gaps of your own, eyes closed, face taut with pleasure.

You knew, as much as he knew, what he was thinking of. His cock wrecking your pussy for the first time because no matter how many times you jerked him off, sucked his cock, or let him fuck your tits, he’d always wonder. He was certain you wanted it too, wanted to feel what it would be like to be under him-- pounded pretty. Your head rose to watch his cockhead peep out between your breasts. Every sweeping motion was rewarded with a little lick, earning a hiss of your name. His measured features hardened.

“Coño,” Miguel cursed as the thick ropes of his cum coated your tits. He forced himself forward, cum pumped over your collarbone and neck, dripping into your hair. The grip on your breast was unrelenting, while the other jerked himself through the bolts of aftershock. To his surprise, you gathered his cum between your fingers and suckled it, tasting his warm salty fluid on your tongue. He watched you, enraptured, as you cleaned yourself-- then went after his softening dick, suckling the spent seed there.

“Beautiful,” he murmured as he pulled away. You followed, inching up his chest to kiss him. He tasted himself, finding that he liked how he tasted much more when it was on your tongue. “Stay the night.”

He never asked anyone to stay the night. It was a flagrant violation of another rule that all the others knew he had. Miguel was open to having another roommate. A pretty girl to fuck and keep. She just had to be the right kind of girl. He has a feeling you’re that girl, nestling between his arm and chest, holding him close.

He just had to fuck you first to find out.

The thing about having multiple girls is-- his interest wanes.

He never knows the exact cause. Only that he’s distracted with you. Perhaps it’s your resistance to letting him actually fuck you. Not eat you out, not have his dick sucked, not fuck your tits, but fuck you. He’s thought about how a hundred different ways. Against the museum, in his bed, in the library, his private office-- It encompasses much of his attention. You were at Peter’s art showing Friday night, which was how he ended up here with Dana, yet again.

She wants to see this stupidly romantic movie that no one else is really into from the looks of the empty seats. Miguel isn’t invested either, his mind is racing with thoughts of someone else. Her lips are wrapped around his dick in the dark movie theatre, he goes soft. Soft-- Miguel rarely goes soft, he’s looking for a hole to fuck into. Apparently, this one is no good. He eventually sighs, pushing on her head to remove her from his cock.

“What is it, Miggy?”

A balance of light and shadows highlight her face as she sits there, looking positively aggravated with her failed Friday night date. Miguel knows that he can’t perform like this. He glances down at the near-empty theatre and itches the back of his neck, tucking himself back into his jeans.

“I’m not horny,” he murmured, folding his arms one over the other. He’s surprised she can hear him over the beaming sound of the movie theatre. She does, shoving his shoulder in protest over his shitty performance.

“You’re usually horny,” she bites back.

“Then maybe it’s you.”

The impulse to take it out on Dana is out before he can control it. She flicks her head at him, her slight eyes popping wide open. She searches Miguel’s flat features for an apology, ruffling her fluffy purple bangs away from her eyes. He doesn’t give her one.

“Oh, now you don’t want me? Ever since you’ve started seeing that teashop bitch,” Miguel perked his brow up, “You don’t have time for me. What? Is she that good?”

Tea shop bitch. It’s been over a week of trying to get you to fuck him at multiple intervals. He hasn’t been able to. Not for a lack of trying, but your shy deflection and offers to do things like-- pick an orange off the trees by his building, walk around on a date, or just touch one another. He tried to understand: you weren’t a girl that ran out to date many men. In fact, he’s pretty sure that he is the outlier in your sex life.

“You’re right,” he says. “We should stop fucking.”

“What?”

“You’re too attached,” Miguel stood up, his hands forming tight balls in his pockets. “And I’m just not that interested.”

“When did that change? A month ago? Miguel?”

He doesn’t have time for her stupid possessiveness, her obsession with keeping her slot as his default bitch. Other women told him all about Dana-- how she tended to show up where they were, bumping into them, or the rumors she spread in the department. He jots down the stairs, ignoring her squealing call of his name. The issue with Dana was this: she loved him far too much and he loved her far too little. As with so many of his once-were fuckbuddies, it was better for Miguel to go on his way.

Or, it would have been. He received a concerning message the next day.

I don’t want to see you again.

It’s from your number. Any attempted calls go straight to voicemail. Logically, he should have been able to count it as a loss and move on with any of the other women he had in his life. Illogically, Miguel wants an explanation. If he can’t get one from you, he knows just who will give him one.

Jess already knows what it’s about from the look behind her yellowed sunglasses. Her arms are turned one over the other, clearly having some sort of reservation from this meeting alone. She seems pissed off at him too despite the fact that he has no idea what the fuck he did. He only knows that you’ve virtually disappeared from his life.

“Are you going to tell me?” Miguel asks.

The crispy bagel sits forgotten before him, alongside the coffee that plumes wisps of heat into the air. Jess flicks her eye down to the steam, then back to Miguel.

“I told you to leave that girl alone in the first place.”

“You also set us up. I should know why she left.”

Jess looked off to the wind wisping through the trees, then to everybody that walked on by. There was an undeniable truth to what he said, her involvement was obvious and disconcerting. Whatever had happened, he deserves an explanation. You weren’t going to make this easy to talk to you, but he was intent. So long as he knew the depth of your irritation with him.

“Someone burned Peter. Something about… what was it? Stealing her man?”

He hates that he doesn’t have to ask who.

"Is he hurt?"

"Bad enough," Jess answers. "Y'know how special he is to her."

He's not sure he does.

[starogeorgina]

𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞

Paring: Aegon II Targaryen × Targaryen reader, Jacaerys Velaryon x Targaryen reader

Warnings: Swearing, smut

1.01

You stare straight ahead as Aegon’s hips snap against your bare ass; his hands are placed firmly on your back, keeping you in place, bent over the table you often sat at while breaking fast with Helaena. Wine spilled from the jug as his rough thrusts caused the table to shake. Small splatters of the sweet-smelling liquid hit your face, leaving behind a horrid, sticky feeling. Your nipples rub against the smooth wood beneath them, which occasionally causes a spark of pain.

“Fuck!” Aegon takes a fist full of your hair and says, “You're so greedy and desperate to be filled by me that you’re sucking me dry.”

Rolling your eyes at his words, you slip a hand between your legs and begin to rub quickly at your clit, hoping to give yourself an orgasm before your soon to be husband spills his seed inside you for the second time that night. Before you got betrothed, Aegon claimed he was gentle in his touches, but the thrill of taking your maidenhood was far too exciting, and now Aegon treats you the same as the whores he visits on the street of silk.

He grunts before falling forward, putting his full weight on you, making you feel trapped beneath him. Aegon lets out a few raspy breaths before slapping your ass hard enough to leave a red mark, then pulls out of you. “I hope that will keep you satisfied for now.”

Straightening your posture, you fix your skirts and adjust the front of your dress so your breasts are no longer spilling out the front of it. “And what satisfaction was I supposed to have gotten from that? You jumped on me like a wild animal.”

Chuckling, he tucks his cock into his breeches, “the satisfaction of being full of my seed.”

Shaking your head, you bring a cup of wine to your lips, but Aegon snatches it. Since his coronation a few days prior, your brother and future husband has become almost unbearable to be around, and the power he wields has made him even more arrogant. In public, you put on the act of the perfect princess and would gush to the other ladies of court how amazing your son-to-be husband is; King Aegon seconded of his name, but in the secrecy of your chamber, the facade was dropped.

“Seven Hells,” you try to grab the cup back, but he holds his hand up high, smirking as you stand on your toes and struggle to reach for it. “You’ve used me all night; now stop behaving like such a cunt!”

He grips your jaw with his free hand and says, “Careful sister, I am still your king.”

“My apologies. Please stop behaving like such a cunt, my king.”

He raises his brows, taking a gulp of wine, then holds it to your lips. He allows you a small sip, then pulls it away again. “I will have two wives, as did Aegon the conqueror, and both of them will give me heirs. But until we are wed, you’ll need to keep drinking the tea the maester brings.”

“You already have two sons and a daughter; you don’t actually need me for heirs.”

“Hmm, that’s not how the king's hand sees it.” He finishes the cup and slams it onto the table. “Now, I’m going to visit Helaena. Hopefully she’ll be more enthusiastic to see me.”

“And if not?”

He slaps your backside. “I’ll just come right back to you.”

—

“Thank you for keeping me company, brother; I know how busy you are.”

“Nonsense,” Aemond says as he walks beside you. “Although I suspect mother won’t be happy that your gown is ruined.”

Since the sun has risen, you have been searching among the flowers and bushes that grew in the gardens, keeping an eye out for caterpillars to give Helaena. Jars of them were placed upon a table in her quarters, and when they hatch from their cocoons, the twins release them. Since it had been raining throughout the night, the bottom of your gown now looked much darker, with damp dirt sticking to it. Aemond was right; your mother most definitely wouldn’t approve of the green blending into black on your gown.

“I thought you hated wearing the color green.”

You observe the way your brother links his hands together behind his back, holding on so tight that his knuckles turn white. You usually wore silver-gray clothing to match the scales of your dragon, Seasmoke. “It’s been advised that me and our sister wear green and gold to show support for our king.”

“I saw him entering your chambers last night,” he says quietly. “I intended on returning the book you so graciously let me borrow but thought it best not to disturb the soon-to-be couple.”

You had helped Aemond learn high valyrian as a child and would often share books about the history of your house. “You needn’t worry, brother, about returning a book. In truth, I think I misplaced the last one you gave me.”

“You mean the same one our king destroyed while inebriated?”

You smile up at him. Although Aemond was the second-youngest of your siblings, he was definitely the wisest. “How long do you think it will be until our grandsire returns from Dragonstone?”

“Not long,” he says, letting out a sigh. “I assume you’re not looking forward to his return.”

“Of course I am; he is—”

Aemond tuts, “is the reason your first marriage was dissolved, and in the place of our strong nephew, your to become a second wife.”

“I’m still surprised the faith is allowing this, or mother for that matter.”

Your grandsire was obsessed with Aegon sitting on the throne; he had started to plan Rhaenyra’s usurpation years prior. And he was trying desperately to recreate the image of Aegon the conqueror with your brother; he even suggested having two wives to mirror Visenya and Rhaenys.

“If I speak freely, you won’t think of me as a fool, will you?”

The gardens were empty at this time, aside from the knights on patrol and servants hurrying back and forth. It wasn’t often you were able to speak so openly, but Aemond never judged you. He nods for you to continue out loud with your thoughts.

“I’m a Targaryen, a dragon rider; I want to be more than just a broodmare.”

Surprised, he asks, “You want to be part of Aegon’s council?”

“Not necessarily his council... But I would like it if my future husband viewed me with respect and needs me for reasons that don’t involve squeezing out heirs. I want to do more than just my duty, I want to keep my family safe.”

Just as you reach the doors leading back into the keep, he pats your shoulder and says, “I’m sure you’ll be able to charm him into getting what you want; he does have a soft spot for you.”

—

Heart beating faster by the minute you refill the golden goblet Aegon was holding up. Anger was simmering beneath the surface, and even Sunfyre could feel it. The golden dragon was circling the sky above, roaring loudly, letting out the anger his rider was struggling to hide. “Everybody out, except the soon to be queen.”

You gather the goblets as each member of the small council leaves the room; surprisingly, Aegon allowed you to be present during his meetings that day as a cupbearer. Ser Criston squeezes your shoulder as he walks by, giving you a curt nod before closing the doors behind him, leaving you and Aegon alone.

Taking a moment, you lick at your lips and begin to unlace the top half of your dress so your breasts are nearly exposed. Many important things were discussed during the meeting, but you doubted Aegon wanted to rehash them, not when he had you sink to your knees and suck on his cock before the meeting started. When you turn to face him, Aegon is no longer sitting down; he is standing by the window, staring down at King's landing with a faraway look on his face.

He was scared.

Wrapping your arms around his bulky waist, you rest your cheek against his back.

“Do you know why I’m going to keep you close?” he asks, tilting his head. “Aside from having the sweetness between your legs whenever I want?”

“Aegon…” you groan at his vulgar comment.

“You won’t lie to me; everyone else is telling me what I want to hear and not telling the truth of what they think,” he says. “So tell me, do you think our elder sister would have killed us if she sat on the throne?”

“No.”

Aegon chuckles at your bluntness.

“But now that she’s been usurped, I suspect things will be different.”

“I could have your tongue removed for even suggesting such a thing.”

You took a deep breath. “You said it yourself; I won’t lie to you.”

Footsteps echoed back and forth outside the room, followed by Ser Cristion’s voice telling whoever requested an audience with the king that he was preoccupied. The thought of the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, a man who had watched over you since you were a baby, keeping guard while you engaged in premarital sexual acts with Aegon, turns your stomach.

“I never wanted it,” he whispers. “Do you think our mother lied to put me on the throne?”

“Our father had twenty years to change his mind. But no, I don’t believe she would lie, but perhaps she was misled. not that it matters now. What’s done is done; all you can do now is try to keep the casualties to a minimum.”

Aegon swallows as he slowly turns his face to you, but he stays close enough for you to keep hold of him. “What is your proposal?”

“If you want to strike the image of the conqueror, you’ll need to do what he did; he accepted counsel from his siblings, brothers, and sisters.”

Aegon stands up a little straighter, shaking his head. “When the king's hand spoke of sending ravens to different houses, you didn’t agree. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want to overstep.” It was the truth; accept that it wasn’t Aegon’s reaction you feared; it was your grandsire. Otto had worked hard to have such control over your brother and would easily convince him to not allow you near any politics if he saw you as interfering.

He tuts, “What is it you wanted to say?”

“Why send ravens when you have dragon riders? Send us, me and Aemond, as envoys, just as Visenya and Rhaenys did for their brother.” Unlike Aegon, first of his name, your brother was no conqueror; he was just a boy who had been manipulated, but you did love him, the same as your other siblings. “You cannot expect proud lords to break oaths without a little convincing.”

“Okay, I’ll send you as my messenger. But what of Rhaenyra? What should I have done with her?”

“Nothing; no man or woman will follow a kinslayer. Allow her to remain as the princess of Dragonstone, and Lucerys the heir to Driftmark.” You move your hands to his face, forcing him to meet your gaze. “It’s easy for the men on your council to advise you to kill her, but the gods would disagree. Our family does not need to tear itself apart, and you don't need to be remembered as a king who killed his own sister and her children.”

His eyes gloss over, but Aegon doesn’t seem sad, but irritable. The look he’s giving you becomes more intense. A chill runs down your spine as he runs his thumb over your bottom lip, as he seems to be contemplating something.

“Aegon?”

“Don’t ever betray me, sister, and I won’t put that pup you care about so much to the sword.”

[ajortga]

i'm not coming home.

pairing: vada cavell x fem reader

warning! sensitive topics ahead include: character death, suicide, overdose, massive angst with NO happy ending.

thank you egg for your request! cried a little making this which usually.. isn't quite normal to happen. hope this might make your angst heart pour a little.. p.s this was partially inspired by some other fics i read that i loved and this was particularly based off the lyrics im not coming home, not really my future:o

-

I just saw that song fic you made, it was very nice. So I’d like to request one of my own…

My future by Billie Eilish?

Obviously for my favorite girl Vada Cavell. Who else would I request for?

-

Her eyes looked at the moon, Vada’s brown eyes looking at the way the moon shone across the city.

“The moon is pretty, isn’t it?” A voice said beside her.

Vada's eyes glanced at you, a small smile forming on her lips.

“Yeah. But you were always prettier.”

“You used to say that a lot.”

“I know. It’s because I think it’s true.”

You stood there in silence, Vada scooted closer to you, pointing at the flowers right ahead of you guys.

“Do you remember when we planted those?”

“Yeah, they grew so pretty. We wanted to make a whole flower garden together.”

“The garden is growing I think.”

“I think so too.

Silence once again, the only sound was the dark trees rustling in the blue moonlight, stars above the two’s heads. Vada bit her lip, looking at the stars, her knees tucked under her arms.

“Do you think in another universe, we’d be in love?” You whispered, catching her off guard as she looked at you, seeing the way your eyes looked hurt.

Vada shrugged, thinking for a moment, “I don’t know..”

Another pause.

“Maybe in another universe, I never so badly wished it was this one though.”

She heard a small laugh, hurt laced behind it, “It once was.”

“In this universe we’re not. Because you’re no longer here.”

…

“I know.”

Vada wishes she could take those words back. 

-

Vada needed space to herself after trying to heal from traumatic experiences it was so hard for her to deal with. You were just trying to help.

You were just trying to help.

Offering to hold her hand in the hallways, reassuring back rubs, kisses on the forehead, sticking by her side.

It was too much for her. She just wanted to be left alone, but she didn’t want to tell you.

You just were so worried, you made sure to love her.

The day Vada was the most stressed, she took all her anger out on you for just trying to comfort her.

“Can you stop being arrogant for once and get it into your brain that you need to leave me alone? You have to let me go and it’s getting so frustrating you can’t get that into your system! Just give me my space when I need it!”

Vada’s voice echoes through the house, her eyes looked enraged as she saw the way your figure looked so small.

“Okay.”

That was the last word she heard you say before you left the apartment to just.. Process.

Vada felt bad, seeing the way your shoulders dropped as you walked out the door. But she was just so frustrated with all these events she couldn't bring herself to apologize. She was too tired.

-

Ding

...

Ding

....

Ding ding ding ding ding

"Oh my god.." Vada groaned tiredly, her phone light almost lighting up the whole room as she rubbed her eyes, stirring from bed.

Who the hell would be notifying her at 2:43 AM?

Her hands flipped her phone over as she looked at the messages, the way her eyes widened was indescribable.

my sweet y/n♡: vada they won't go away.

my sweet y/n♡: i'm so scared.

my sweet y/n♡: it won't stop, vada it won't stop.

my sweet y/n♡: i can't breathe

my sweet y/n♡: i just want it to stop.

my sweet y/n♡: baby please i need you. i don't feel good.

4x call missed

my sweet y/n♡: i'm sorry.

my sweet y/n♡: i love you.

my sweet y/n♡: i love you with my whole heart and i promise that you can finally be left alone like you wanted.

"No! No no no no no!.." She said louder to herself, immediately jumping off the bed and hitting the call button. No response.

"Please just pick up!"

She grabbed her keys and slammed the door shut, immediately going to your house with an inhaler and meds.

She kept ringing and ringing as she heard you pick up, immediately putting the phone to her ear.

"Baby! Baby.. Talk to me. Talk to me please."

"...Vada.." you cry, your voice barely a whisper, "It hurts."

"What did you do? Y/N.. Tell me please, what did you do? Did you take something bad?"

"I just.. I..."

Vada hears you breathing heavily, making small hurtful breaths.

"I just wanted everything to stop... I'm so tired.."

"I'm almost there baby.."

Vada makes a full on swerve as she busts out of her car, hearing the way your labored breaths were gradually beginning to grow shakier. The call ends as she makes a plead of frustration. She grabs the keys she snagged when she left the house and frantically unlocked your door.

"Y/N!" she cries, the house was dark as she turned every corner before rushing into your room, barging in.

There you were, curled up on the ground, your arm over your stomach as she saw the way your chest shook, the way you let out cries. There were pills scattered around you, your hand holding a pill bottle that was almost half empty. Vada screamed as she immediately knelt down as you turned.

"Baby, Y/N, wake up!" She cried, shaking you

You were barely able to make a noise, she could only hear you say her name, your voice barely an audible whisper with tear-stained cheeks and glazed over eyes.

Vada let out a painful cry as her hand reached up to caress your now cold skin. You were shaking as Vada picked you up and cradled you, calling the 3 numbers as quickly as she could, begging for the ambulance to come as quickly as they could.

"Everything is going to be okay. Don't close your eyes sweetheart. I promise you'll be okay.."

You curled your body into hers, your head drooping down as you look at her, your vision unfocused.

Oh how your eyes were the ones she loved so much, the ones she loved so much now looking like this. Lifeless, barely hanging on.

"I'm so sorry. Vada's so sorry baby. I should have never said those mean things to you. You mean the w-world to me. I love you so much," The guilt was stirring in her stomach, unlike anything she's seen before.

You whimper against her, "I-I d-don't feel good... I-I feel s-so c-cold.."

Vada sobbed as she wrapped a blanket around your shaking, fragile body, hugging you tightly.

"I'm here. Help is coming," she whispered, looking down at you, fallen tears beginning to drop on your clothes.

Your eyelids were half-open, Vada's voice was beginning to become muffled. You knew Vada was beyond worried, you just wanted everything to stop for a while.. You also knew deep down, you wouldn't be able to make it. You wouldn't be able to make it out alive. You wouldn't be able to spend the rest of your life and marry Vada. Maybe live in the green meadows like you always dreamed of, cuddling as you watched the stars at night. Maybe have had a cat too and looked like the romantic sweethearts everyone envied of, sharing small gentle kisses in the corners of every place you traveled.

You knew you couldn't be with her till her last breath, but you knew she would be with you till yours.

You knew you wouldn't be able to live your love, so you mustered all the left-over strength you still had and croaked out the 3 little words.

"I love you."

You felt it. Vada did too. The way your eyes glassed over, it was no longer the warm, pretty eyes she adored, they were now foggy and dark. The way your body began to lose it's warm comfort that Vada ever so loved feeling when she cuddled you to bed. It was all fading. And she knew your life was fading too.

Vada cried, she didn't want to loose you. She was sobbing and she couldn't do anything about it, she was so so scared.

"I love you too. I love you so fucking much Y/N. I.. I.." She didn't know what else to say, she was so scared that she couldn't speak anymore, wailing.

You gave her the weakest smile you could muster, though she knew that it wasn't the smile you gave her when your eyes would light up as soon as you saw her, it was the smile that you finally understood.

You understood. The cracking smile that showed you were ready.

"That's all my heart can ever ask for. I-I'll be there with you, as a pretty deer in the moonlight, or the shiniest star. I-I'll be there whenever y-you need me.. It was never your fault.." You whispered, before she could see your eyes go still, your shaking body beginning to slow. The last teardrop that would ever fall go down your cheek.

"No! Open your eyes Y/N! Baby! Please! I'm here! You can open your eyes now! Wake up!"

Vada didn't know love could make her cry this hard as she felt your skin turn cold, she wished she could just take it all back. She'd remember you through every memory. But she'd remember that the memories of the person she loved most would never exist in the future. It was all in the past. She knew that you were gone as she cried into the wind. The ambulance was just too late as they saw her hugging your soulless body, never wanting to let go.

"Vada's so sorry.." She cries in a whisper.

-

Vada felt herself sniffle, she could feel the way her memories invaded her brain. She could never forgive herself for it. On every shooting star she wished that it could've never happened in the first place.

She then noticed the way she felt her cheeks suddenly stain with tears, seeing your pretty body fade away in the moonlight above. Seeing the way that you bit down a hurtful expression, smiling with a cracked heart as she sniffled. The night sky is now beginning to reflect through you. 

It was all her fault. She couldn’t bear to hear it. But she knew now that you weren’t going to come home. You never would.

She knew one day you would fade from her mind completely. She couldn’t bear to know that one day, she’d forget the way you sounded.  She knew that one day, your ghost would eventually fade away, your faded presence beginning to slow as time healed. There would be a day that your ghost would stop showing up completely.

She knew that one day, all your memories would turn into months, years, decades.

Until it’ll all be too old for her to remember. To remember you and the way you were the first person Vada felt her stomach tingle with fluttering butterflies as you kissed her so gently. To remember the way you would hold your umbrella for her as it poured rain, seeing the way your forehead would drip with water from protecting her before you could shelter yourself.

"Keep our love special okay? Keep it just between us. Keep it in your heart." You whispered, before you faded away, knowing one day you'll appear once again.

Vada nodded, slowly, she still can't believe she isn't over it. How could she be?

Her hair was wet, she was so used to feeling a hood over her head. She was so used to being protected by you. Rain drenched her clothes as her body shook, staring at the way the city lights dimmed below her. 

She knew that you weren’t going to come home.

Because there she was, sitting on a wet patch of grass, drenched in the rain. Knowing that once before, you sat with her in the rain, holding an umbrella over her head as you hugged her, cuddling for warmth. 

Vada let out a shaky, broken sigh as she looked up, seeing the way the stars shone. One shone so bright as she smiled. Her star.

From the wind blowing so gently in her hair with rain showering across the city, the deer peeked behind the tree, making a soft noise.

"Every night and day I wish I could feel your cuddles, kiss me and tell me it was all a nightmare, but it's been too long to know it's not just stupid nightmare. I miss you more than words can possibly describe."

Vada rubbed her cheeks, wiping the tears that were falling, feeling the rain drizzle with her sadness, making a quiet cry.

"It's been 5 months Y/N. I love you. I wish you were here with me. "

Maybe you wouldn't be with Vada till her last breath, maybe her grieving wouldn't last that long. But she was there for yours, that's all you could ever ask for. Your girlfriend hugging you as you took your last breath. That was special.

[sidthedollface2]

A Crown fit for a God

Pairing: Azriel x Fem Reader, Eris x Fem Reader

Summary: Azriel sees you tearfully reading and asks Elain for help with a gift.

Warnings: Pining, talks of war, mostly fluff, Elain (it's fine don't worry) hurt/comfort/no comfort.

Word count: 1.6k

A/N: This belongs with a mini series I’m currently working on but it can be read as a stand alone. I’m not a writer so keep that in mind if you find mistakes. Lol.

Azriel watched from afar as you tenderly stroked the soft petals of a daisy. Your eyes closed as you deeply inhaled the floral scent. A soft smile spread across your face, enjoying the fragrance. Azriels heart beat wildly in his chest at the sight.

You sat on a bench next to a shallow pond, small fish and turtles leisurely swimming about. The sun was high in the sky, rays of light breaking through the trees, casting you in a divine glow. From your small satchel you pulled out your beloved book. One of young romance and finding true love, definitely not one of Nestas collection. The novel was about two friends sent to fight a war, similar to the war you fought in. The male had been caught by the enemy, with no way to tell his partner, she assumed he had passed leaving her to fight not only the war alone but live a life without her mate.

Azriel's heart clenched as you softly cried into the book, wiping the tears that rolled down your hot cheeks. He envisioned himself sitting beside you, his arm wrapped around your shoulders, tucked in close to his side. Peppering kisses to your temple, soothing your broken heart kiss by kiss. His daydream was interrupted as Rhys requested him mind to mind.

That afternoon Azriel sat next to Elain in her garden, thinking of you and how all these flowers would be jealous of not only your beauty but of your heart as well. He wished to bring you expensive and thoughtful things, place them at your feet like the God that you were, if only to see that shy smile once again.

He shouldn't have asked, but his mouth moved faster than his brain, “Elain, do you think you can show me how to make a flower crown?” he internally winced. Although he ended things with her the moment he saw you, they still remained acquaintances. He couldn’t bear pursuing you while he was bedding her. It wasn’t fair to drag her along when deep down he knew she wasn't what he truly desired. She was pretty and attractive by fae standards but you were incomparable. An exquisite work of art crafted by the first Gods.

“Azriel, is this for…..” she tried to say your name but it hurt too much. Jealousy ran through her, itching to deny him this simple request.

“Yes, I'm sorry. It was wrong of me –”

“Sit,” she relented, patting the space next to her. “What flowers does she like?”

Azriel took a moment to think, scratching at his chin in concentration.

“Hmm, I’m afraid I don’t know what flower she likes.” He slumped, already feeling useless in his attempt at a sweet gesture.

“That's ok, flowers also have meaning. What do you wish to convey to her?”

“Love.”

Azriel said with a quickness Elaine had never seen before.

“You love her.” Elain stated, smiling at Azriel with pride.

“More than I ever thought possible.” Azriel confirmed with a soft sigh as he cut the stem of a vibrant red rose. “But I don’t want to tell her just yet. Oh, she does enjoy the smell of daisies,” he remembered, picking the white daisies within his reach.

“Then daisies will do.”

Once Azriel gathered enough daisies he proceeded to twist them one by one just as Elain instructed. Holding two daisies, Azriel loops one over the stem of the other making a knot. One by one he loops more daisies to the main stem until it creates a crown large enough to fit on top of your pretty head. Once the main crown is done, he gathers green lace fern and baby's breath intertwining them between the daisies to make the crown appear vibrant and bountiful.

With a friendly hug he thanks Elain for her help and stalks off with a bounce in his step, eager to present his gift to you.

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

Azriel finds you sitting on the wooden bench once again. It had been days since he saw you, Rhys having sent him on a mission before he had a chance to give you the crown. He makes himself known by clearing his throat, “May I join you?” He asks, glancing at the spot next to you, his hands held behind his back.

“Oh! Yes of course.” You glance up at him, noticing he’s not in his usual leathers but a navy collared shirt . It fits him perfectly. Snug around the diameter of his muscular arms and toned pecs. His strong thighs stretch the fabric of his sleek pants, as he takes the seat next to you, gently brushing his thigh against yours.

“I’m sorry to disrupt your reading, but I brought something you might need.”

Azriel then pulled out a blue box with a silver bow from a pocket of shadow, and handed it to you. Surprised at this unexpected gift, you remove the ribbon and within the box folded neatly was a lace handkerchief.

“If it’s real, it will never be over.” Azriel jerked his chin toward your book and your eyes widened.

“You’ve read it?” You beamed, clutching your beloved book to your chest. Holding it near your heart that wanted to desperately find someone. Someone willing to go into battle for the chance to be loved. A chance to find their equal in a world of undeserving immortals.

Azriel smiled and you melted at the sight, he was the light in the dark, a beacon lighting your way and you a moth to the flame.

“Yes, I’ve read it. It gets quite emotional towards the end.”

Azriel looked down with disappointment in his eyes, “I had got you something else, but I’m afraid it wilted before I was able to give it to you.”

You placed your hand on top of his. Azriel didn't flinch but relished in the warmth of your touch. “I’d still like to see it, if that's alright with you?”

Azriel nodded and his shadows carried the fragile crown, gently placing it in your lap. Azriel cheeks flushed, witnessing the cool shadows brushing against the softness of your cheek. For the first time ever he was jealous of them, he wanted to be the one to reach out and touch you, be gentle and tender towards you.

He wasn't known for soft things but for you he’d learn. For you he’d make flower crowns and read romantic books. He’d sit next to you and listen as the wind rustled through the trees, breathing in the citrus scent of your hair and the delicate perfume on your skin.

“I love it.” You gasp, gently thumbing at the browned petals, each touch bringing the flower back to its natural unwithered state. Your touch had the power to bring life to what once was. Flowers, once withered and decayed, are brought back to health. Animals that had been injured or hunted; a single touch healed and brought them back to vitality. Azriel smiled brightly at the display of your magic, “of course you’d be able to fix broken things. Perhaps,” he stalled, looking at his hands, “perhaps you’d be able to fix me too?”

You followed his line of sight, understanding the meaning behind his self-deprecation. Slowly you held his hands in yours, grasping them tightly hoping he’d understand the importance of your words. “Azriel, there's nothing to fix because you're not broken. All your flaws, all your imperfections, it’s what I adore about you.”

Azriels heart could explode, you wound him with your sweet words and gentle touches.

He hopes you’ll want all his flaws, all his imperfections and all his mistakes. He’s had many that's true, regrets that he can't undo, a darkness that can swallow him whole. But despite all his wrongdoings he can only hope you’ll choose him.

With nothing to hold him back slowly he leans forward, a scarred palm cups your soft face and he almost pulls back. Glancing between your supple lips and radiant eyes, he licks his lips closing the distance between–

“ I hope I'm not disrupting.”

Startled, you quickly pull away coming to a stand, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Azriel clenches his jaw, as he stands towering over the Autumn heir in a show of dominance.

Stepping around the winged illyrian, Eris sideyes the boxed gift and flower crown with a look of annoyance and distaste. Before Eris can snatch it, Azriel carefully picks it up and steps in front of you, placing the crown softly on your head. You're breathtaking. He attentively adjusts the strands of hair that frame your face, rubbing your silky waves between his fingers, so much softer than he imagined. Soon, Azriel thinks. He’ll be able to keep you, If you choose to be his of course.

Reminding you of his presence Eris breaks the tension, “It’s time to go love.”

“Will they find eachother again? Once the war is over?” you ask, pleading that true love can withstand even the most violent of battles.

Please tell me love finds a way.

Before Azriel can answer, Eris swiftly pulls you away, wrapping his arm tightly around your waist, squeezing your hip, where he branded your body in a bargain. He kisses the corner of your mouth, looking over his shoulder with a smirk at a seething Azriel.

Azriels deep sultry voice carries in the wind, “in the middle of the chaos on the battlefield, he finds her. And she finally tells him –”

Your hopeful eyes are the last thing he sees as Eris winnows you away, leaving Azriel with three little words whispered in the air. A confession Azriel will one day be brave enough to purr between heated kisses and embraced bodies.

I love you.

[chimchiri]

Poll Adventure: Rarijack Dinner

Index | [prev] - Part 06 - [next] Special thanks to @babydarkstar for putting out the lovely writing! <3

Previous Poll:

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

A tall, willowy woman sits crouched on her knees, tending to a fruiting garden with her back to AJ. Her long pink hair is tied up in a thoughtless knot, though the green ribbon holding it together makes it elegant. A basket sits beside her, half-full with newly harvested veggies, flowers, mushrooms, and greens. As she works, the tune she hums floats across the yard, accompanied by birdsong that chirps along, and the occasional chatter from a chipmunk joining in.

As usual, Fluttershy is surrounded by a sundry of critters. Today there are butterflies flitting around her shoulders, beetles dancing at her knees, a wild doe that rests beside her with its long legs tucked under its body, a tortoise that munches on the kale from her basket, and a roundup of squirrels chattering away as they help her find ripe cherry tomatoes. And of course, Angel—the mischievous bunny that can get away with nearly anything, because he’s Fluttershy’s darling boy. For now, he sits directly behind her, scratching idly at his neck with his hind leg. Bodyguard duty.

A tiny, bright blue flash approaches Flutters and hovers in the air beside her, a delicate flower in tow. Flutters looks over to the proffered gift, removes a glove and holds out her hand out to let the hummingbird drop the flower into her palm. She places it in her hair before letting the bird land on her finger.

“Thank you, Hummingway,” she chimes, bringing the microscopic bird up to nuzzle at her cheek with a soft laugh.

For a moment, AJ can only watch in awe. Fluttershy’s uncanny ability to commune with nature never gets old. A grin breaks out on her face. She’s glad she decided to stop here first; she can feel her stress melting away.

“Fluttershy,” AJ calls from the pathway leading to Fluttershy’s front door, and the woman in the garden yelps, shoulders tensing in a defensive pose. Applejack cringes as Flutters turns to face her, eyes wide.

“Oh—goodness,” she says, a hand to her chest, “Applejack, you startled me.”

“Sorry—sorry,” AJ says with a sheepish smile, stepping over to grab the basket and offering Flutters a hand.

Fluttershy stands, brushing the grass and dirt from her pants and tucking her gloves into a pocket before bending down to scoop Angel up into her arms, bidding farewell to the other critters retreating from their garden duties—the ones that didn’t flee when Applejack broke their peaceful moment.

“Well, it’s good to see you, AJ,” Flutters says in that soft voice of hers, reaching a hand out for the basket in AJ’s hand. But the farmer gives a little shake of her head, insisting she carry it as they step out of the garden patch and over to the cobblestone pathway.

“Um, you really don’t have to carry it for me…but thank you,” she says, stroking at one of Angel’s fuzzy ears, to busy her anxious hands, “Come in, I was going to make tea.”

So AJ follows Fluttershy into her charming little bungalow, locked in a staring contest with Angel, who looks at her over Fluttershy’s shoulder like he would maim AJ if he had sharper teeth. Setting the harvest basket on a bench by the door, AJ watches the timid woman put a kettle on to boil and then putter about the open floor plan of the downstairs as she fusses with putting her veggies in the sink and tidying whatever she deems out of place. As they wait for the water to boil, they make idle small talk—the weather’s been nice, Twilight (yes, Twilight) is planning a surprise party for Pinkie Pie, how are the horses?

Once Fluttershy pours tea into cups on a tray and leads them to the den, she takes a timid sip before looking to AJ. “It’s always nice to see you, Applejack. Did you need me to help with something? Is Winona doing okay?” A look of panic flashes across her face and her eyes go wide. “She didn’t get into the horse feed again, did she? Oh dear…I told her only to eat her own food….”

Her brows pull up in concern as she meets AJ’s gaze, who shakes her head with a chuckle. “No, Winona’s alright—she loves the new food”—(“Oh, thank goodness…”)—“I’m actually…I’m here because I had a favor to ask.”

Applejack rubs the back of her neck. Shit, she’s nervous. Thinking about consulting her friends is one thing, but actually doing it is something else entirely.

“Oh?”

AJ grabs her tiny teacup from the tray and blows on the tea, unable to look at Fluttershy. “Uh, yeah—I, uh. I’m goin’ on a date. And I need some advice.”

“A date!” exclaims Flutters, louder than her usual delicate tone as she flashes a grin, her soft blue eyes glittering. “That’s wonderful.”

AJ can feel her ears turning ten shades of pink. “Heh, thanks. I’m stuck on a few things but I think you can help me out.”

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

Tag List: @mrrrpmeow @babydarkstar @butwerebothmares @chaosdraconequus @chrysaliswife @gaywombat @mulan-but-gay @jubjub05 @dan-chan-rn @sanybaby @horserepository @justletmesnarkandbark @colourswirlcannibal

[dreamwritesimagines]

Garden of Secrets [30] - Lunaria

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback and support my loves, it made my whole week, you’re amazing!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤

Thanks so much to @theskytraveler​ for helping me with the chapter!

Summary: After arguments comes sincerity.

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms, mentions of trauma and violence, angst.

Word Count: 5000

Series Masterlist

 Any married couple would tell you that fights were normal in a marriage.

You knew that, but this whole silence was beginning to feel more and more like the end of the said marriage.

You and Benedict hadn’t talked to each other since the night of the dinner party at Lady Margery’s house, and you and Benedict were getting quite good at sharing the house without even talking about it. You wouldn’t have known he was actually staying in the house if you hadn’t paid attention to the occasional sounds of door closing and the footsteps.

You didn’t know when you had learned to recognize him from his footsteps alone, but apparently it had happened somewhere along the line.

You knew Benedict had left an hour ago because you had seen him pass through the garden from the window of the library. You had been so immersed in your book that you didn’t even notice the familiar carriage pulling in front of the house until you heard Teddy’s voice ringing through the hallway.

“Y/N?”

You turned your head and put your book down, then rushed out of the library to go downstairs.

“Teddy?” you asked as he ran to you, clutching a couple of flowers in his arms and you let out a laugh, then hugged him.

“Hello there,” you said and smiled at your aunt as you saw her at the end of the hallway. “And hello auntie.”

“Hello my dearest,” she said, coming to kiss your cheek. “We figured we could pay you a quick visit on our way to the pastry shop.”

“I’m glad you did,” you said and took the flowers from Teddy. “These are beautiful Teddy, thank you!”

“They’re from your garden,” he said helpfully and you nodded your head.

“Mm hm, I recognized them,” you said and held his hand so that you all could go to the drawing room. “Pastry shop then?”

“Yes and then we will go to the park,” your aunt said. “So that I can meet my friends and Teddy can play with his friends.”

“The weather is pretty nice,” you mused and turned to your maid. “Paula, could you bring some lemonade and biscuits please? Thank you.”

“Of course ma’am,” she said and left the room, and you hugged Teddy sideways as he sat beside you.

“How is uncle?” you asked your aunt and she heaved a sigh.

“He is alright.”

“Any um…” you trailed off and stole a look at Teddy before clearing your throat. “Any letters?”

“None,” she said with a smile. “I told you, there’s no need to be worried.”

“Seems to be engraved in me by now.”

A maid walked in, carrying a tray and made her way to you to place three glasses of lemonade as well as three plates of biscuits on the coffee table. You thanked her as Teddy grabbed his glass, then took a huge sip.

“Is Benedict home?” he looked up at you and you heaved a sigh, then shook your head.

“No my sweet, he left an hour ago.”

“When can I make more sculptures?” he asked and you tried to smile.

“Whenever you want,” you said. “Is it alright if I help you though?”

“Not Benedict?” he asked, his brows furrowing slightly. “But he knows so much about art.”

You nodded your head.

“Benedict has been working on a new painting lately,” you whispered as if giving him a secret. “He’s a bit busy but we can do it together?”

He thought for a moment, then his head whipped up.

“I could teach you!” he said as if the thought just hit him and you let out a laugh.

“Exactly!” you said, “It would be fun!”

“Benedict is working on a new painting?” your aunt asked and you looked up at her, then nodded your head.

“Yeah,” you said. “He’s been…he’s been busy.”

She raised her brows, her eyes searching your face as if she wanted to see whether you were telling the truth but the gong of the clock on the wall made her turn her head.

“Oh I’m going to be late,” she said and got up from her chair with you following her suit. “We’d better go, come on Teddy.”

“Alright,” Teddy pushed the biscuit into his mouth, making you bite down a smile and he came to hug you.

“I’ll see you later,” you said, pressing a kiss on top of his head before you hugged your aunt. She hugged you back, then pulled back to look at you better.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

Your stomach did a painful flip but you managed to offer her a small smile.

“Of course,” you assured her. “I’m fine.”

She heaved a sigh and kissed your cheek.

“We’re having tea as soon as possible.”

“Works for me,” you said and watched her and Teddy walk out of the drawing room to make their way downstairs. Your smile dropped and you let out a breath, then sat back down on the sofa again.

“Great,” you muttered to yourself. “Today should be fun.”

                                                                      *

 Towards the afternoon, Lottie had sent you a note, asking you to join her for a picnic but you had written back, saying you weren’t feeling your best. It wasn’t a lie at all, you really didn’t want to see anyone, instead all you wanted was just burying yourself into the covers and ignore the outside world.

But apparently you wouldn’t be so lucky.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t even notice the approaching footsteps while you laid on the sofa, your gaze fixed on the fireplace until someone cleared their throat by the door, making your head whip up.

“Josie?” you asked and pushed yourself up off the sofa to stand up. “What are you doing here?”

“Came to see how you were, obviously,” she said and entered the drawing room. “Not well as I can tell.”

You rolled your eyes. “Did auntie talk to you?”

“No, why?” she asked. “Should she have?”

“No, it’s just—” you motioned vaguely at outside. “She came by for a visit today with Teddy.”

“And?”

“And nothing,” you said. “She seemed worried about me for some reason.”

“Could the reason be that you were staring into nothing like a corpse by any chance?” she asked you and you shot her a look.

“I was just in deep thought, don’t dramatize it.”

She frowned slightly, then shook her head.

“Anyway,” she said and went to the armchair to sit down. “Has there been any other letters sent from hell and its biggest demon?”

“Auntie says no,” you muttered, pressing your palms into your eyes before lowering your hands. “But I don’t know. I’ll have to talk to uncle to make sure.”

Josie hummed.

“What about you?” you asked. “How have you been?”

“I’m fine,” she said without so much as any hesitation and you tilted your head.

“Josie.”

“What?”

“Come on,” you said. “Don’t do that to me at the very least.”

“I really am fine,” she said. “I’m married now, he cannot do anything to me. The days he would threaten to either sell me to a brothel or send me to the madhouse are gone.”

A shiver ran down your spine. “But if they speak to anyone—”

“Andrew is a respected lord who inherited his respectful father’s title and wealth,” she said. “Father is a no one. There’s nothing he could say that the ton would believe over our word.”

You started pacing in the room.

“I suppose,” you said. “But even if they do come here, we’re not telling Teddy.”

Josie shook her head fervently. “Of course not. He will not know or talk to them.”

You could feel the tension coming back to your muscles as the throbbing in your wrist returned, and you rubbed at it, gritting your teeth.

“Why doesn’t he just die?” you spat. “He was coughing like crazy when uncle took me and Teddy in years ago, he spends most of his days drunk, why doesn’t it just get to him already?”

“Trust me, I’m looking forward to that day,” Josie said. “I’ll celebrate it.”

“If he so much as tries to get Teddy like he said in that letter—”

“He’s not going to do that,” Josie said. “None of us will let him.”

You massaged your temples and huffed out a breath.

“What did Benedict say?” she asked you and you turned to look at her, then pursed your lips.

“That’s not important right now.”

Josie sat up straighter.

“What?” she asked. “Wait Y/N you have told him, haven’t you?”

“No because I don’t need to,” you said. “I can handle it if they come here.”

Josie gawked at you in complete silence, then a dry laughter spilled from her lips.

“You’re jesting,” she said. “Surely you are jesting.”

“Why would I tell him?”

“Why would you not tell him?” she hissed at you, jumping on her feet. “What are you going to do if father decides to come here? And the staff hasn’t been told—”

“I’ll tell them.”

“And if he walks up to Benedict on the street?”

“I doubt father even knows I’m married,” you said. “There’s no reason for Benedict to—”

“There’s every reason for him to know!” she said. “If you don’t want to give him the details, fine! But you need to tell him especially if they decide to come here, you know what father is like—”

“I can handle father.”

Josie threw her hands up in exasperation. “Have you gone insane?!”

“I don’t need Benedict’s help,” you said tersely, shrugging your shoulders and Josie heaved an impatient sigh.

“If you’re doing this because you two had a small lover’s spat…”

You narrowed your eyes at her. “Josie.”

“You had a fight, is that it?”

“That’s not important.”

“It is important if you’re going to make stupid choices because of it!” she snapped. “If it were any other time, you know I wouldn’t push you to do anything but if mother and father are in fact coming here, you’re going to need all the support you can get.”

You scoffed. “Sure, let me just go and cry to Benedict because what? Father is coming here?”

Josie raised her brows. “How’s your wrist?”

The anger rushed through you so fast that you didn’t even have the chance to remind yourself it wasn’t Josie you were angry at, just the memory itself and how it managed to make you feel helpless every single time.

Not to mention, your and Josie’s fights would always be fiery, ever since you two were little.

“Fuck you, I’m not going to listen to this,” you growled and Josie’s gaze turned into a glare as you walked past her toward the door.

“No?” she asked, making you whirl around on your heels before you got to the door. “If you don’t want people to ask you questions, maybe don’t act like a little girl throwing a tantrum.”

“I’m not!”

“By keeping the one person who you’re actually close to in the dark?” she snapped back. “The one person who can actually protect you as far as the ton and the law are concerned? For God’s sake, you’re married—”

“It’s a sham, Josie!” the words left your lips before you had the chance to stop them. “Wake up, will you? It’s a sham, it’s not real! None of this is!”

That got her to stop talking and if you weren’t so exhausted by the nervousness and anger rushing through you for days now, you would have stopped talking as well but you were nearly hysterical at this point.

“We’re not in love,” you said, breathing fast. “The only reason why we got married is because people saw us together, alright? He knows it, I know it, even goddamn Anthony knows it! And everyone around us is so gullible that they believed we were in love because what? We pretended to be just to spare their feelings? Honestly Josie, I’d expect you of all people to be smarter than that—”

“What?”

The different voice that reached into the room came from behind you from the door and you turned around to see Lottie staring at you in shock. Your breath got caught in your throat and you swallowed thickly.

“Lottie…”

“Your butler let me in, I wanted to see if you were alright after your note but—I—” she stammered, tears rushing to her eyes. “You both…you all lied to me? All this time?”

“No,” you said quickly. “No it’s just complicated, I didn’t mean—”

“Excuse me,” she said and turned around to rush downstairs, a curse leaving your lips before you rushed after her.

“Lottie- Charlotte!” you called out as she stepped outside with you following her. “Please, can we just talk?”

“That rumor Lady Whistledown mentioned,” she said, turning to look at you better. “That was true?”

You ran a hand over your face. “It’s not exactly—”

“Y/N,” she insisted and you heaved a sigh.

“Things between me and Benedict are complicated.”

“But you didn’t get married because of love?” she asked. “You got married because someone saw you two together, unchaperoned?”

You paused for a moment and she raised her brows.

“Y/N?”

“…You could say that,” you admitted after a beat and shook your head. “I know how it sounds, but we didn’t want to upset you—”

“Thank you so much for that,” she said with a sad laugh and you pinched the bridge of your nose.

“Lottie…” you said, following her as she walked to her carriage. “I’m sorry, I really am. I didn’t want you to find out this way.”

She looked at you for a moment, then swallowed thickly.

“I’d say you didn’t want me to find out in any way,” she muttered and got in the carriage before you could say anything else, then the coachman drove away, leaving you there.

You groaned, that heaviness in your heart getting even worse as you watched her carriage disappear into the road and dug your fingernails into your palms before you looked up at the sky and let out a scream, the birds in the nearest tree flying away. You huffed out a breath, then turned around to see Josie leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed, and her brows raised.

“I’m glad you got it off your chest I guess,” she said. “Now, want to tell me what the fuck that was about?”

                                                                      *

It took you almost an hour to fill her in on the details of everything that had happened. Even if you still felt incredibly bad for how Lottie had found out, -and how you had kept it from Josie- it still felt sort of relieving to actually share it with someone. Josie sat beside you on the stairs that whole time and it was only when you had finished telling her everything that she heaved a deep sigh, leaning back on her elbows.

“Fuck.”

“Mm hm,” you said. “Sounds about right.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

You scoffed a laugh. “Look me in the eye and tell me you would have let me marry him if you knew why that wedding was happening.”

“Of course I wouldn’t have let you!” she said. “That’s exactly why you should have told me!”

“And then?” you asked. “You know how the ton would have been like.”

“Who cares about those idiots?”

“A scandal would have affected uncle and auntie as well, Josie.”

“Scandal or not, I think uncle and auntie would want you to be happy.”

“I am—it’s not…” you massaged your temples for what felt like the hundredth time today. “It’s complicated.”

“It really isn’t,” she said. “If he forced your hand—”

“He didn’t force my hand,” you cut her off. “No more than I forced his hand at least. I wanted to kiss him, he wanted to kiss me…It’s only because people saw us together that it got to this.”

“And you’re sure he didn’t plan this?”

“I know he didn’t,” you said. “Trust me, I’d love to be able to blame someone but Benedict is not to blame.”

“Neither are you.”

You clicked your tongue.

“I don’t know about that,” you said. “I could’ve walked away.”

“So could he,” she said and you heaved a sigh, then shrugged your shoulders.

“I don’t know,” you repeated, running a hand over your face. “God, it feels like I haven’t slept in years.”

Josie bit at her lip, deep in thought before she turned to you.

“Clover?”

“Hm?”

“Technically speaking, this marriage is invalid,” she said. “No consummation.”

“So?”

“Would he apply for an annulment?”

Your heart dropped to your stomach but you frowned, shaking your head.

“I don’t think so.”

“Would you?”

“I’m not going to apply for annulment,” you brushed her off and she sat up straighter.

“Then we could leave whenever you want, you can come with me and Andrew and Bess—”

“I’m not going to do that Josie,” you said and she scoffed a laugh.

“Why not?” she asked. “If you’re worried about a scandal…”

“That’s not why,” you told her. “Not really.”

“Does it have something to do with the fact that you kissed him?” she asked and you shot her a look.

“Don’t,” you said. “Seriously. It was just desire and I’m pretty sure anything he may have felt for me is long gone after that fight.”

“And yet you want to stay for some reason because you want to make yourself suffer?”

You heaved a sigh.

“No I—I’ll think about it,” you lied to her. “After this whole mess is over.”

“Alright,” she said and stood up. “I’d better go but are you going to be okay?”

“Sure thing,” you said, waving a hand in the air before standing up as well. She pulled you into a hug, then kissed your cheek.

“I’ll kill you if you hide things from me again,” she said, drawing a chuckle out of you before she walked to get in the carriage. You lingered there for a moment as the carriage drove away and you shook your head slightly, then walked back into the house.

                                                          *

You were still so tense that you couldn’t even bring yourself to have dinner even if you would be all by yourself. Benedict was still outside, so even though you knew there was no way you could get a wink of sleep, you still went to your bedroom. The sky was dark already, your room only illuminated by the moonlight and the flames in the fireplace. You took out the pins in your hair, then massaged your scalp and heaved a sigh before putting the flowers Teddy and your aunt had brought you on the windowsill so that you could air dry them, but as soon as you did, the carriage by the stone road caught your attention, making you frown.

Ah.

That had to be Benedict.

You had just placed all of the flowers when the knock on the door reached you and you looked over your shoulder.

“Come in?”

Benedict opened the door and stepped inside, and you frowned at just how rigid his whole body looked.

“Can we talk?”

“About?” you asked and he took a deep breath as if reminding himself to be calm.

“Did you do it on purpose?”

“You might want to—” you started but then the idea hit you, making you stop for a moment. “Ah. Lottie?”

“Yeah,” he said. “So did you?”

You gawked at him and scoffed a bitter chuckle. “Why would I do it on purpose, exactly?”

“Because you’re angry at me for some reason?”

You could feel the anger rushing through your system so you gritted your teeth.

“Contrary to what you seem to believe, I don’t go behind people’s backs when I’m angry at them.”

He raised his brows, disbelief etched in his features.

“Sure,” he said. “So it was what, a coincidence?”

“Well you seem to have all the answers,” you bit back. “I’m sure you can answer that on your own as well.”

“Y/N.”

“What?”

“Why would you tell Charlie that?” he insisted. “She’s angry at me and Anthony because apparently you decided to tell her he knew as well.”

“Oh well that’s devastating,” you deadpanned. “Because I spend all my days trying to make sure everything I do makes Anthony’s life easier—obviously I didn’t know she was here! She’s angry at me too, or has it escaped your notice?”

“Then how did she—”

“Because she was apparently there when I told Josie, but I didn’t know.”

Benedict stared at you. “Wait, Josie knows as well?”

“Lapse in judgement, we were having an argument,” you said and Benedict blinked a couple of times.

“Y/N, I thought we agreed we would keep it to ourselves,” he said. “We told everyone—”

“I have more to lose than you if it gets out, Benedict!” you snapped. “You don’t have to remind me what I already know!”

He took a deep breath as if reminding himself to be calm.

“We’re married,” he said, motioning between you two. “We need to be on the same page on things like these.”

“Oh now you remember we’re married?” you asked with a bitter laugh. “You can act like a bachelor and spend a whole night partying and doing God knows what without so much as letting me know—”

“I did let you know!”

Your voice rose before you had a chance to stop it; “Oh sorry, how nice of you to invite me to the party as a second thought!”

“I already told you nothing happened!”

“That’s not the point!” you snapped back, “The point is that you told me we would talk and we didn’t because you were too busy having fun at a party!”

Benedict shook his head. “You told me it wasn’t important!”

“Because you—” you started but your body automatically flinched back when Benedict’s hand shot up to run it through his hair, a gesture you had seen him do over and over again but in the heat of the argument, it was enough to make the rest of your sentence get lost in your throat.

Benedict’s hand froze in the air as the sudden panic rushed through your veins, the flash of various memories shooting through your head but even through the haze of absolute fear, in some corner of your mind you knew.

That was then, not now.

That was not going to happen again, not with him.

Benedict stared at you before he held up his palms, all the fire of the fight and anger gone from his gaze.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, his voice so gentle and soothing that your throat tightened. “I promise you.”

You blinked back the tears and nodded. “I know.”

“I would never—”

“Benedict, I know,” you cut him off and let out a bitter chuckle. “I believe in you on that at the very least, trust me. It just used to happen a lot whenever anyone moved too fast around me, it’s involuntary.”

Benedict swallowed thickly, his eyes searching your face before he very slowly lowered his hands as if trying not to make any sudden moves. The panic retrieved from your body like a wave at the shore and you heaved a sigh, then leaned back to the wall before slipping down to sit on the floor.

“I can leave you be if you’d like,” Benedict said softly. “Do you want me to go?”

You scoffed a dry laugh and patted the spot next to you. Benedict lingered there for a moment, then made his way to you to sit down on the floor beside you, leaning his back to the wall while you pulled your knees up to your chest, resting your chin on them.

“But you…” he paused for a moment. “You know I would never, right? Really?”

“Yeah,” you said. “I know. I don’t know how, but I know.”

“Okay.”

You stared at the moonlight spilling over both of you through the window before you ran a hand over your face.

“Benedict?”

“Yes?”

“Do you want to get an annulment?”

That made him turn to look at you better, his brows furrowing as you shrugged.

“Technically speaking, this marriage is invalid,” you quoted Josie. “We never consummated, so…We could get an annulment.”

He stared at you. “Do you want to get an annulment?”

“I asked first.”

If it were any other time, it would have made him smile at the very least but not this time.

“No,” he said. “But I won’t force you, I’ll never force you into anything so…Do you want one?”

You shook your head.

“No,” you admitted. “No I don’t.”

A silence fell upon you and he leaned his head back to rest it against the wall before stealing a look at you.

“So this is marriage huh?” he asked and you felt a sad smile curl your lips.

“Yeah,” you said. “A never-ending emotional torture.”

“Well you did warn me, so…” Benedict mused and you nodded your head.

“I really did,” you murmured, twisting your wedding ring around your finger. “Jesus I’m exhausted.”

A bitter chuckle climbed up his throat.

“I know the feeling,” he rasped out. “Can you um—can you sleep at night? Because I can’t.”

“Not at all,” you said. “And I can’t really focus on anything. Can you?”

“I need to,” he said. “I need to be focused on something all the time, otherwise…”

“What?” you asked after a beat and Benedict shook his head.

“It’ll catch up to me otherwise.”

He didn’t need to specify what it was, you knew it very well because it was the same thing that had been twisting your heart for the last two weeks.

The wave of pain that was so strong that if it managed to get to you, you weren’t sure you’d be able to stand.

“It’ll turn into hate one day,” you said, your voice determined as you nodded your head to yourself. “It will. It’s a marriage, it has to turn into resentment and one day we will wake up and we’ll hate each other.”

He tilted his head. “Do you really believe that?”

“I want to believe that,” you said. “I hope it does turn into hate, I’m better at it.”

“Dear God, it would be so much easier,” he murmured and you nodded.

“Exactly,” you croaked out as the burning in your eyes came back but you bit at your tongue, fixing your gaze on the wall.

“Can I ask you something?” Benedict asked and you glanced at him.

“Sure.”

“I’ve always wondered if you…” he trailed off. “Do you regret it? That night at the gazebo?”

“Do you?”

“I asked first,” he quoted you, a ghost of a smile appearing on his lips and you smiled back, then shook your head.

“No,” you said. “Do you?”

“Not a single second of it,” he stated and a nearly hysterical giggle escaped from your lips.

“You know, Lord Easton said something the other night,” you said and sniffled. “And I have a theory about this whole thing.”

“I’m listening.”

“Call it artist and muse, call it desire, whatever it is,” you said. “I’m beginning to think maybe it was fate.”

“You don’t believe in fate,” he said and you thought for a moment, then shook your head.

“Well, I don’t but think about it,” you said, wiping at your nose with the back of your hand, then turned sideways to see him better. “We kept tempting fate even if we knew we weren’t supposed to and—be completely honest with me, can you imagine yourself being married to someone else?”

He grimaced. “Not without a shudder and a nightmare to go with that idea.”

“Exactly,” you insisted. “Even after everything. So we’re—we’re not star-crossed, we’re not each other’s promised but maybe we’re something else completely different than all that.”

“Like what?”

“Maybe we’re just doomed to torment each other.”

He blinked a couple of times as if trying to wrap his mind around it and you sniffled again.

“Does it not make sense?” you asked, sitting up straighter, your eyes locked in his. “Neither of us regret that night even if it would make perfect sense if we did, both of us could walk away right now, a luxury no other couple in the ton has, and yet…”

“Yet here we are.”

“Yeah,” you muttered. “Yet here we are. Doomed to torment each other, in this life and beyond.”

He hummed. “That’s a relieving thought.”

You turned to shoot him a look of disbelief. “The idea of being tormented is relieving?”

“Compared to the idea of not having you?” he asked. “It is. I can take the torment from you, just not…just not your absence.”

A silence fell upon the room and you rubbed at your eyes, then dropped your hands to your lap.

“Well then I shall haunt you,” you managed to say. “Even after death, like in those awful stories. If we are to torment each other, we will not be free of each other. Dead or not, no absence.”

A sad smile crossed Benedict’s lips and he held up his pinky.

“Do you promise?” he asked and a teary laugh climbed up your throat, then you looked up at him.

“What?”

“Do you promise to haunt me?”

You blinked back the tears before they could blur your vision, then stuck your nose in the air.

“Do you promise to haunt me back?”

Benedict tilted his head. “Do you want me to?”

“I do,” you said without any hesitation and hooked your pinky with his. “Whoever goes first will haunt the other. Deal?”

There was no sign of hesitance in his eyes, only determination as he smiled slightly, making your heart skip a beat.

“Deal.”

Chapter 31

[mint-yooxgi]

Spectre - Yandere!Wraith!Hyunjin

Yandere AU & Wraith AU - First Person POV

Genre: Mature, Smutty Themes, Monologue

Pairing: Hyunjin X Implied Chubby!Reader

Words: 1,630

Warnings: Implied stalking and murder, talk of self-mutilation and dirty thoughts. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: This one is meant to be read as if he's talking directly to you. Think "Meant To Be Yours" from the musical Heathers, just less intense anger. Hehehe, I hope you like it! Feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~

The Fifth of The Feral Drabbles

“Don’t be scared, Pretty. You know I would never hurt you.

Just let me in. Don’t you want me to take care of you?

Ignoring me won’t make me go away; you can’t get rid of me that easily. I’m attached to you now, whether you like it or not. Our bond can never be broken. You’re mine and I’m yours, and I will do everything in my power to make sure that you are never taken away from me again.

Pretty, why are you crying? You should be overjoyed! I’m not going to leave you ever again!

Oh, I get it! They’re tears of joy, aren’t they? You’re just as ecstatic as I am to know we’ll no longer be apart, and now with this newfound bond, I’ll be able to touch you! Isn’t that exciting?

I’ll be honest, Pretty, I’ve longed to know what your skin feels like beneath my fingertips. For too long my gentle brushes have simply passed right through you. I want to feel you pressed against me. I want to hold you in my arms both in the most innocent of ways, and also in the most intimate. I’ll finally be able to make you feel so good.

You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Now, I’ll no longer have to stand by and watch those others who have been ridiculously unworthy of you touch you. No one will ever lay their filthy hands on you again. No one but me is allowed to touch you.

I’d do anything you’d want. I’ll admit, when I still drew breath, I was quite a selfish lover, but I’ve learned from my mistakes. I’ve spent too long fantasizing about burying my face between those plush thighs of yours to not want to take my time with you, and indulge in every desire you’ve ever had. I’ve seen how frustrated the others always leave you, and I’ll make sure that you’re satisfied in every way I can.

All you have to do is let me in…

I already told you, I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going to leave you alone. You mean too much to me.

Wait! I know! I’ll prove to you how well I know you! Then, you’ll have to let me in. Or maybe, I could try seducing you with my words? Would you like that, Pretty? For me to delve deeply into your soul and caress you with the romantic tenderness you have always craved to hear from your lovers? 

I know my visage is usually meant to bring death and terror, but there is nothing more that I long to do than breathe into you the vibrance of life. You’re so beautiful, and you deserve only the best. You deserve someone to laugh at all of your corny jokes with. You deserve someone who will cherish you like you are the most delicate flower in the garden of the universe, of which you are. You deserve to be loved how you’ve always wanted, and I am more than willing to give that to you.

In fact, do you remember that day you were out with that- that- thing.

Forgive me, I dare not speak that bastard’s name. I honestly don’t know what you saw in him. He was a good for nothing, ugly, vile, piece of-

Sorry, Pretty. I guess I just got too carried away…

You can’t blame me. That’s just what you do to me. Picturing you with anyone else… well, I’m not a wraith for nothing.

Anyways, as I was saying, do you remember that day? How certain things started happening when he dared to get close to you?

Yes, that was me. I couldn’t stand the sight of him touching what’s mine. He never deserved you. Besides, you didn’t know what he was like when you weren’t around.

I took the liberty to follow him. I just had to know why you preferred his company, and seriously Pretty, you should have heard the shit he would talk about with his friends behind your back. It’s a shame someone seemed to pick them off one by one…

Yes, Pretty, that was also my doing. I couldn’t have scum walking this earth who could so easily disrespect My Pretty, now could I? Sometimes being what I am has its perks.

No, don’t cry harder! I promise I’ll never hurt you! I love you!

I- I- I don’t want you to be scared of me.

I know! Would hurting me make you feel better?

I mean, you locking me out like this already hurts me, but I’ll gladly let you do whatever you want to me. Now that we’re bonded, I’m susceptible to more things than before, but the regular stuff still works, too. Iron, salt, fire: pick your poison, I’ll suffer through it all. Though, if you’d prefer something more substantial, like a blade, I’ll gladly bleed for you. After all, only you can touch me now.

…Is it that surprising that I would want to bleed for you? After I already told you that I would do absolutely anything and everything for you? 

Carve your fucking name into my skin. I don’t care. In fact, I’ll gladly do it for you.

Just please, won’t you let me in? I want to see your pretty face again; it’s been too long since I’ve last gazed upon you.

I don’t care if I appeared to you only an hour ago! It’s been too long!

You know, this isn’t how I pictured this going…

I won’t lie to you pretty, I had hoped we would be in the midst of making love right now.

It’s you who makes me so crazy, you know. You seriously have no idea what you do to me…

Long have I since desired to worship you. I mean, I already worship the very ground you walk on, but you’ve never seemed to notice. I honestly hated knowing how you thought those roses I always left for you every week were from that bastard. 

Selfishly, I wanted to show up with those red flowers, litter your bed in their petals, and then make love to you like you’ve never been loved before. Until you were shaking from a single touch. Until you were dripping down my face from the amount of times I would make you come from my tongue alone. Until the only thing your hoarse voice could utter, the only thing that you could think of, would be my name.

Don’t you want me, too? I’ve been with you this whole time, but now that you can actually see me, you don’t-

It’s my appearance, isn’t it? I’m not desirable to you.

It’s okay, Pretty. I can handle the truth. You don’t find me attractive, do you? That’s why you’re so scared right now. You’re terrified of how I might react.

I can change, you know. I’ll change for you. Whatever you want from me, know that it’s yours. I’ll figure everything out, just as long as I get to have you in the end. You already own all of me, and you know I’m willing to give my everything for you.

I am a little shocked, though. I have always been told that I’m quite handsome, especially when I was alive, but I guess I don’t suit everyone’s tastes. Unfortunate that I only care about yours, but you don’t seem to desire my looks.

You’ve gone awfully silent all of a sudden. That means I’m right, doesn’t it? You aren’t attracted to me like I thought you would be.

Your breathing just picked up when you said that. Are you, perchance, lying?

Oh, Pretty, it’s okay. I’m so in tune with your body and your every reaction, I can tell when you’re being dishonest with yourself. I’m just happy to know that my theory is wrong. You do find me attractive, don’t you?

I’m all yours, Pretty. You know that? Everything that I am, belongs to you. I just want to take my time loving you, and getting to cherish you like you’ve always wanted. Like you’ve always deserved.

So, please, won’t you open the door?

What do you mean, ‘no’?

I’m getting tired of these games, Pretty. I’ve tried playing nice, but the way you’re hiding from me is getting on my every last nerve. I’ve already waited years for this moment, and now that it’s here, you’re pushing me away? I don’t think so.

I’ll give you five seconds, and if you don’t open this fucking door before the time is up, I will smash through it without a second thought. Even you can’t keep me away forever. I won’t let you.

One.

Two.

You’re really testing my patience, Pretty. You know that, right?

Three.

Four.

Five.

That’s it, I warned you. I’m coming in whether you like it or not.

Wait, why can’t I get through your door? Pretty, did you do something?

Answer me, Pretty.

Pretty…

I know you’re scared, Pretty, but just let me in. Open the door, and let me in. I’m starting to get really angry, and I would hate to have to do something that I might come to regret. You can’t hide from me forever.

I’m fucking done waiting for you. You’re mine, whether you like it or not. I don’t care what it takes, I’m going to bust this fucking door down and find you. I’ll drag you out of that room if I have to; you’re not going anywhere without me. You can’t. You better be prepared for that, Pretty.

After all, this salt line will only protect you for so long, and once I’m through… Once I’m through, I’ll make you feel my love. It’s the only thing my spirit still lives on to do.”

[itsabouttimex2]

Monkiefam: Part 0

Midnight Malaise

(Part Zero) (Part One) (Part Two)

It doesn’t particularly surprise the troop when you sneak out of your room. Both of them are fully aware that you often wander around at night like this. They know that you aren’t getting enough rest, that you aren’t eating properly.

The house is silent, save for the occasional rumbling snore from Wukong. You’ve been told to never leave your room at night- but that’s more of a suggestion than a stone-set rule. Really, as long as you don’t leave the bounds of the house, they have no trouble with your little late-night adventures.

Even the garden outside isn’t off limits, as long as you don’t go past the fences.

And beside- it’s peaceful tonight. It’s no more dangerous than taking one little stroll out in Megapolis to see the moonlight.

…you’ve come to miss Megapolis. The mountain was absolutely enchanting at first, but that was back when you thought that being here was merely a choice.

Before you had asked one of the monkeys to bring you home, and received a very firm “no”. And then went and asked the other one, only to quickly receive the same answer again.

Before all that, Flower Fruit Mountain had been lovely and welcoming.

You sit at the bottom step of the stairs, taking a moment to grab both of your shoes, wishing you had something a little sturdier. But anything that would hold up outside the soft soil of the flower garden was kept well out of your reach.

And even then, these compliant and squishy sandals are sometimes hidden to keep you inside.

MK finds you before you’ve even got the first shoe on. The kid peels it out of your hand and tosses it against the other, knocking them both into the wall.

He settles down on the same step and leans against you, pressing into the warmth offered by skinship. It’s a habit of his, a desire for touch- he’s incredibly trigger-happy with affection. The hero leans his head against your shoulder, taking in the scent of you. You smell of linen and soap and home. Too much time spent hiding in the laundry room, buried under mounds of fresh blankets and warm sheets. Something that helped to remind you of simpler days. It makes him smile, how comforting that scent is.

“What are you thinking about, Y/N?” No malice. No anger. Just love. And a strong note of worry.

There’s no point in lying. If you’re up this late, it’s because you want to go out to the garden and lay among the flowers and pretend that you’re anywhere but this sacred mountain.

“…I wanted to get some fresh air.”

“Not while it’s this late. It’s not safe.” He’s pretty firm about this- there’s too much worry to consider other options aside from the frequent “no” you always seem to receive. He looks at you and speaks, his voice almost reverent with love. “Instead, how about I make you a bowl of noodles and then you go to bed?”

“…I’m not really all that hungry, MK.”

“Yes you are.” He’s even more firm with that response. “I’m not asking if you’re hungry, I’m telling you. It’s been three days, Y/N. This isn’t healthy for you at all!

MK doesn’t give you a further chance to respond, just scooping you up and and walking off to the kitchen. This might’ve been harder for him, once… but you’ve lost a lot of weight during your stay.

Sitting you into a cushioned chair, MK’s humming quietly as he prepares the noodles. A well-learned cook, he’s picked up on a lot from his lessons with Pigsy- who is often stern with his training. But, even in something such as this generational cooking, you can see the kindness and gentleness MK possesses.

So you stay there in the chair, almost patiently waiting at the table. The most you do is quietly drum your fingers against the wood. Although you’re not too big on eating lately, you aren’t really brave enough to argue with the members of your ‘family’.

“It’s ready!” He slides you a bowl of steaming, delicious noodles- the savory and herbal scent alone is enough to make your mouth water. He nudges the bowl closer. He’s clearly put a lot of care and effort into making the meal, and he’s not leaving until you’ve tried it. The kid looks determined, and a little bit upset?

Maybe he’s just that worried.

With a sigh, you reluctantly tuck into the noodles and take a few deep bites.

It’s not that they’re bad. In fact, they’re objectively pretty delicious. You just… haven’t had much of an appetite lately.

MK beams at you, watching with a soft smile as you eat. “Do you like it? I made as close to Pigsy’s as I could!” He gently nudges the bowl closer, trying to get you to eat even more.

“…it’s good,” you grudgingly confess, quickly finding that your words come out slurred. There’s… something herbal in here, I think…?”

“It’s a dash of ginger for warmth and good sleep,” he says, voice cheery to mask his omission. A half-truth reaches your ears, MK leaving out the real ingredient: a ground sprig of valeriana jatamansi, it’s sedating impact enhanced by growing beside the mystical rivers of Flower Fruit Mountain.

And if you had known that, you would know that Sun Wukong had coordinated this plan with MK, giving him the herb to grind down and add to your bowl.

And after just half the bowl, your eyes are fluttering and the chopsticks waver in your hand.

He rushes forward, practically tearing the wooden sticks out of your hands before standing you back on your feet. “Bed. Now.” His voice is uncharacteristically firm, urgent. He’s a lot more serious now, almost desperate. His worry is evident in his tone.

You try to dig your feet into the wooden flooring, attempting to pull free from his grasp. “N-no, I won’t. L-let… let go.”

MK’s grip is a surprisingly strict one, though he’s quite soft while doing it. The kid’s strength only really comes into play when someone’s health or safety is at risk. He’s stronger than he looks. More importantly, he’s worried enough to drop his usual gentleness. His grip tightens, dragging you behind him as he moves onwards.

He leads you; not up the stairs to your room, but across the house to Wukong’s.

“Heh. Finally got ‘em to eat something, bud? Good job,” he says, lightly ruffling his student’s hair. “I’m proud of you.”

And MK nearly buckles at the knees, overloaded with warmth and happiness. It’s only the fact that he’s holding you now that keeps the boy from throwing himself into the affection being offered.

“Alright, both of you- get in and get comfy. We’re sleeping in tonight.”

MK tosses your nearly unconscious form to his mentor, who then tucks you in nice and tight. “There’s one of my kids… come on bud, you’re up next!”

With a gleeful laugh, the affection-seeking boy squishes in beside you, throwing his arms all around your waist.

Wukong’s chest rumbles with a deep and contented purr, nuzzling you against his fur. He bears the scent of peaches and wildflowers, sun-beaten grass and sweet honey. “Hey there, cub.” The simian’s voice is both gentle and warm, the same as the arms he wraps around you. His entire body radiates a sense of protection and safety.

“Feeling sleepy?” The Great Sage asks, one ginger-furred hand hand cupping your cheek so he can tilt your head to him.

Without a word, the simian studies your face, wearing a sad, fond smile. He can sense your unrest, your deep sorrow, the anguish of your separation from the home you adored. His ancient heart aches with worry. He’s wanted to hug you, to hold you, to ease your sadness with the power of his embrace for so long now…

And all it took to get you here was one little herb…

It’s certainly not something that he or his student will ever regret.

[wildtobio]

Between Cheers and Silence

Finnick Odair x reader

During the Victory Tour, you and Finnick Odair navigate the pressures of the Capitol. Starting as distant acquaintances, your bond grows stronger as you find solace in each other's company.

The train sped through the districts, each passing landscape a reminder of the world beyond the arena. You sat by the window, watching the scenery blur past, your mind drifting to the events that had led you here. The Victory Tour was supposed to be a celebration, but for you, it was a constant reminder of the lives lost and the battles you wish you never fought.

Finnick entered the compartment, his presence a stark contrast to the solitude you felt. He sat across from you, his gaze assessing.

“How are you holding up?” he asked, his tone neutral.

You sighed, not quite meeting his eyes. “It’s hard. Every district we visit brings back memories I’d rather forget.”

Finnick nodded, understanding but maintaining a certain distance. “We have to put on a brave face, for them and for ourselves.”

The train’s whistle blew as it approached the next stop. You and Finnick exchanged a brief look, bracing yourselves for the spectacle that awaited. The Capitol had orchestrated grand celebrations in each district, forcing you to relive the horrors of the arena under the guise of victory.

As you stepped off the train, the cheers of the crowd rang in your ears. Finnick’s hand brushed yours, a fleeting contact that grounded you momentarily. Together, you smiled and waved, playing the part of the victorious tributes.

The day was a whirlwind of speeches, feasts, and public appearances. By the time the sun began to set, you were exhausted, both physically and emotionally. Finnick suggested finding a quiet spot away from the festivities, and you agreed, grateful for a break.

You found a small garden illuminated by the soft glow of lanterns. Finnick leaned against a tree, while you sat on a nearby bench. The scent of the flowers filled the air, providing a brief rest from the chaos.

“This is better,” he said, his voice breaking the silence.

You nodded, feeling awkward. “Yeah, it’s nice.”

Finnick was your mentor in the games and you are extremely grateful for all the things he did for you, from training you and giving you advice on how to handle the arena, to just being there for you when you got out, providing you a moment of peace similar to what you're feeling now. Still, he was much of a stranger to you.

For a while, neither of you spoke, and the distance between you was a reminder of the roles you had played: mentor and tribute, now victors thrown into the Capitol’s spotlight.

Finnick broke the silence first. “You know, it’s okay to talk about it. The Games, I mean.”

You looked at him, surprised by the sincerity in his eyes. “I just… I don’t even know where to start.”

He walked over and sat beside you on the bench, the distance between you closing slightly. “We don’t have to start with the Games. Tell me something about yourself, something you enjoyed before all of this.”

You hesitated, then decided to share. “I used to love painting. It was a way to escape, to create something beautiful out of nothing.”

Finnick smiled, a genuine warmth in his expression. “Painting, huh? You don't seem like an artsy type of person.”

“What about you?” you asked, feeling a bit more at ease. “What did you enjoy?”

“Swimming,” he replied. “The ocean has always been my refuge. It’s where I feel free.”

You shared a small smile, finding common ground in the simple joys that once defined your lives. The conversation flowed naturally, stories of your pasts intertwining and revealing parts of yourselves that had been hidden by the trauma of the Games.

The night deepened, and the sounds of celebration faded into the background. In the quiet of the garden, you and Finnick found a moment of peace, a brief escape from the demands of the Victory Tour. He began to speak more openly, sharing moments of joy and pain that shaped him into the person he was now.

You listened, grateful for his openness. In return, you shared more about yourself, and the experiences that had molded you.

As the night wore on, you knew that the tour would continue, the challenges and expectations ever-present. But in that moment, with Finnick by your side, you felt a glimmer of hope.

And so, as the lanterns flickered, you and Finnick Odair embraced the fleeting tranquility, ready to face another day in the Capitol’s game, but no longer alone.