#because I would be outside ripping up flowers and seeds all day long

[lanitalay]

At sea 

Rhysand x reader

a/n: Hi my loves!!!! I wrote this to break the ice after winter break. It will likely have one or two more parts. Wanted to write some Rhysand fluff after destroying his character in Before I say goodnight lol.

word count: 1k

warnings: none

Summary: reader returns home after months at sea.

Part 2

Salt coated the railings you clung to while walking down the stairs to the main deck. The summer sun had dried up the water that had crashed against the ship all night long. Now small crystals blanket every surface on board. You make it down the wonky steps, map rolled and tucked under your arm. It had been a rough passage last night, the shaking had kept most of the crew on board hugging buckets, unable to control the bile. It was the most dangerous part of the voyage, the captain had to watch out for jagged rocks that were mostly covered by water or mist, towering waves and fog overhead that prevented the guiding stars to be visible. 

It would be a matter of days now. If you squinted you could swear the shoreline of Velaris was on the horizon. This time it had been an entire season. The trek had started the day after the last of the snow melted and you would be back just shy of the summer solstice. You had never been gone this long from your home. The salt air was starting to stink, you yearned for green fields and pine scented breezes. 

You had collected more samples than ever before. The botany in the foreign lands you visited was truly magnificent and different to what you were accustomed to in the Night Court. In your private quarter you had managed to fit around one thousand dried samples of leaves, roots, flowers and a few insects along with some living plants, placed carefully near the port hole and a plethora of seeds. Your favorite treasure was an exceptional plant that you had meticulously looked after because the bright violet color of the flowers reminded you of a pair of matching eyes back home. Rhysand. You tried not to think of him. You really really did. But in the flowers you saw his eyes. In the stars you saw his smile. In dark waters you saw his fury. In the sea shanties you heard his drunken laugh. A sigh escapes your frowning mouth. 

He might have married or mated by the time you return. Not that anything romantic existed outside of your wildest dreams. But he was your friend. You had known him since the head researcher of the priestesses had sent for a field researcher, since she did not feel ready to be outside of the sacred library walls. You had been recruited because your father was a renowned explorer and you had grown up by his side. Every shore in Prythian and the Continent was familiar to your family. Every shore unknown called your name. 

Rhysand was the one who brought you to the library the first time. He had wanted to be present and even gave you a tour himself of the massive sanctuary. Since then, each time you return he flies you to the library and you tell him an abridged version of what you saw on your travels. Sometimes you think that he holds you a little tighter than the last time he saw you and you stop yourself before even thinking that there is a glint in his eyes that indicates something more than polite interest. 

The days pass slowly. Eventually, the familiar cliff sides and hilly landscape come into view. Relief floods your chest. You would be staying a while this time. Cataloging all of the new materials would take at least until the end of summer. Flapping sounds from above and you look up expecting to see the mast ripped but instead a gliding shadow figure high above. An inevitable smile forms on your face. 

It feels like docking the boat took forever. But once all the ropes are tied and the masts lowered, the bridge gets lowered and you all but leap to the wooden platform and to the young High Lord that’s waiting for you. Sprinting you pounce on him, wrapping your arms around his neck and relishing the feeling of being on solid ground. “Welcome home, explorer” his smooth voice soothes your racing heart. Seconds pass before you let go and look at him. He’s beaming, his hair has gotten longer since you’d gone,  his face is clean shaven and he smells of home. You open your mouth to speak but his smile- his smile is making it impossible for you to concentrate on anything other than his mouth. So you stall. Your hands ruffle his hair in the way you knew would annoy him and he laughs. 

“I’m so glad to be back” you finally say. 

Flying to the House of Wind was routine at this point in your career. You would land and immediately go debrief with your head researcher. But today Rhys had asked you if you were hungry. The grumble in your stomach told him you were. So now you were eating a lovely lunch prepared by the house. It felt decadent to eat anything other than fish and potatoes. You moan as you bite and the High Lord in front of you chuckles. 

“What else did you find?” 

“Besides the plants there were incredible creatures there. Some had fur and some had scales. I drew them in my books” you point towards the bag you had brought with you most precious items. He reaches for it and begins to flip through the pages of your findings. 

“This is fascinating” he breathes. 

“What about you? Is there anything new in the Court?” You notice his jaw clench for a fraction of a second.  “Is something wrong?” 

He shakes his head and closes the book “there are whispers of war”. Your blood drains from your face. “What do you mean?” 

His face is now the face of a High Lord, relaying important information to a court member “Hybern has been making some advances, Prythian is too fragmented to stand a chance”. The war that had put the wall between the human realm and the seven courts had ended not one hundred years ago. Villages were still recovering. The Courts were still shifting in new power dynamics. 

“What can I do?” You were no warrior. The amount of times you’d trained with the Inner Circle you could count on one hand and it had always been to appease Cassian. Rhys looks away “nothing, we are trying our best to unify and organize our armies”. Something akin to a thorn nestles itself in your heart “and how are you going to do that?” 

He swallows and looks straight through your eyes “I’m marrying the Princess of Autumn”. 

[tinytinybumblebee]

hello!!! You know what I'm here foooorrrrr!! Baby Bill!! (featuring baby Joel!!) :D

So, I saw this video about this bunny and duck duo being together and eating strawberries, and it immediately reminded me of tiny Joel and Bill 😭😭

Like, it would be a nice, summers day, and Frank decided it was perfect to go outside for the day!! So, he let both Joel and Bill wonder around for a bit (probably pre-preparing with sunscreen and hats for each of the boys ;w;), letting them touch the grass and look at all the pretty flowers that Frank and big Bill have grown for the past few years.

Now, Frank had been lucky to find so many strawberry seeds out in the open!! (he checked to see if it had anything like with the infected on them first ofc) And he just had to use them all!! So, most of them had been just ripe and perfect to use for jams and such!! But there are two lil guys outside too... and I KNOW they both like strawberries so much (more Joel than Bill probably, but let's just say they both do equally :>) And you know what happens when you leave a favorite fruit/food out in the open with a little around...

So Joel just sees these big, red, beautiful looking strawberries and gasps, 'this is that yummy fruit i've had before!! :0 And there's so many!!' And just stares at them XD Bill just looks over to him, and just see what's happening and shakes his head 'we can' eat those, Frankie gonna get mad at us!!' Bill (probably) says, but Joel just shakes his head 'no, he's not!! an' look! there's so many of em!! :00'

And before you know it, Joel already has a few strawberries stuffed in his mouth, with some in his hands XDDD and his face n hands just get all covered in red!! And Bill's just panicking a bit, thinking that there gonna get in trouble!! Buuuuuut, Joel puts a strawberry in his mouth, and he forgets what he was thinking about XD

Frank is a bit suspicious on why it's so quiet... he had been attending to some sunflowers, while the boy's had been playing a bit (but ofc keeping a close eye on them both :>), and just knows there might be a little mistif going on... so he walks around, starting to hear little giggles and babbles as he does, and immediately sees two lil guys, giggling with red on their hands and face... and strawberries in their mouths...

At least it wasn't that many, but Frank was a lil disappointmented XDD But he just walks over to the two and kneels in front of them, putting on a whole act with gasping and everything XD 'oh my goodness! who has been eating my strawberries??? some little critters must've come along without me noticing!! have you both seen them??'

And Joel and Bill and just giggling, shaking their heads, and Frank just coos a bit, finding how cute they both are... even with the messy faces and hands- he'll clean them up soon though XD and then he just gasps again 'have you two been eating my strawberries??? how could you! oh my heart has been broken!! now come here!!' And he just starts to tickle the two's sides, making them both squeal and giggle loudly ;w;

Later on, all three of them all get back inside the house after a very long day of playing outside, and both boy's have been washed and cleaned, and now both sleeping together on the floor (with that big ol quilt :D), just arms wrapped around each other (with Bill making soft sleepy coos :>), and Frank may or may not be snaking on a few strawberries himself as he makes some homemade jam :]

The strawberry bandits!!!!! Oh my GOSH😭💖💖💖

Just the two little lads, sitting on a blanket (because Bill probably doesn't like the feeling of prickly grass and, Joel would probably be ripping the grass out so, it best to have them seated on a blanket for everyone's sake xD) out in the garden, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the distant humming of Frank as he's tending to the sunflowers.

Of course, strawberries are veryyyyy tantalizing, they're bright red, kinda shaped like hearts and, they're growing on the ground, the exact place tiny one's can easily get to!!!

Bill's fear of getting in trouble is instantly gone the moment he's got the sweet taste of strawberry in his mouth- then it's the duckling and bunny, happily eating their berries!!

Oooh Frank is so sad at this moment that he doesn't have a camera, to capture this moment of his two boys just, giggling, covered in the strawberry juices/bits xD♡♡♡ He joins in on their giggles when Bill explains they're just trying to help!! There were sooo many berries, too many for Frank to carry!!

All cleaned up and tuckered out from their afternoon playing, Joel and Bill are fast asleep, probably dreaming of strawberry fields while Frank occasionally peeks into the living room to check up on them-

And for dessert, that night is strawberry jam on toast💖🍓

[nutsandseed]

[nothereforyou]

Long Story Short, I Survived

Did someone order some angsty Steve x reader that turns into Bucky x reader?

The first morning without Steve beside you, after five years of having him next to you, is like being doused with cold water. One moment you’d been blissfully asleep, warm under the duvet that still smelled of him, and the next--well, reality could be colder than any river of ice. He’d chosen her, chosen to go back to where he was really from. Maybe he was never yours to begin with, maybe you were living on borrowed time, safe in his arms.

Life restarts slowly without him. At first, it’s not much more than eating, sleeping, and doing what you need to survive. Surviving is...you don’t have words for what surviving is after. Steve is still around, hovering outside the apartment you’d once inhabited together. He drinks coffee in the café across from the building, lets himself in once or twice a week to make sure you’re alive and the place hasn’t completely gone to seed. You scream at him the first time, scream we were happy!, insist he should’ve stayed. The bastard ignores you.

Steve keeps cleaning, you keep surviving.

Before long, you can get out of bed. You clean your own damn apartment, but Steve still comes. He sits on the couch you picked out together, looking irritatingly good and unfazed. He looks like an old man but you still ache for him. Your Steve, your handsome Steve who had fucked you on every surface in this apartment, looked like a grandpa you should be taking for a walk in the park. He’s still your Steve, deep down. He’s still the only man who’s ever made you cum and who made you laugh over brunch and who slipped a ring onto your finger and promised---

Was he ever yours to began with?

You can’t leave the apartment, the entrance of the building is so packed with reporters there’s barely room to get through the doors. You hadn’t realized the love of your life leaving you would include reporters, vying for the story of why Captain America left his wife. You wish they’d get the story and let you know why.

You’d been married less than six months when it all went down. A quickie wedding in a chapel that was somehow still open. You kept the photos on the coffee table and didn’t think too hard about what that meant.

Sam comes, takes you to get coffee. He talks about everything and anything, just not Steve, not the one thing you desperately want to talk about. It’s good to see Sam, to see someone who really knew Steve. He tells you about spending time with his sister, Sarah and her sons. You make it through the afternoon without crying, which is an improvement. As he leaves, he gives you a look that can only be described as pitiful. It makes you want to scream and rip apart one of the throw pillows, to scream from the roof tops that you’re okay and it’s not even that big of a deal that he just left, you’re fine, and for the love of fucking G-d, stop talking about it.

They don’t stop talking about it. You keep surviving.

Bucky coming to visit is a shock. You’d met him once or twice before he was dusted and you’d heard about him during the five years he was missing, but you weren’t friends. He stands in the doorway and stares at you, looking like he wants to turn and run. You stare right back at him, waiting for him to make the first move. You both stand there, staring at each other. After what feels like forever, Bucky wordlessly takes a seat at your kitchen table and stays.

It’s nice to have another person in that lonely apartment. Bucky sleeps on the floor in the living room, comes and goes as he pleases. But he’s there and it’s a stability you didn’t know you were missing. After a few weeks, you start going for walks through the neighborhood. The reporters have left, something else has caught their attention for long enough that they’ve left you alone. (Nobody seemed to be bothering Steve, then again, they probably didn’t know what he looked like. According to the general public, he’s on the moon.) It’s nice to get some fresh air and it’s nice to come home to someone besides the plants. You don’t talk, more often than not, you come home and Bucky’s sitting at the table, eating cold beans. But he’s there and it’s nice.

Steve stops coming and you both mourn. Bucky mourns for an almost what could have been and you mourn for the husband you spent all of six months with. It’s during this mourning when you two really find each other. It starts small, you bring Bucky a cup of coffee in the morning and he grunts his thanks. Bucky cooks breakfast before you leave for work at the bookstore down the street. It’s nice, reminiscent of when Steve was there.

Then Sam gives away the shield.

You’re having a movie night when the news about John Walker comes out. In the six months that he’d lived with you, you’d never seen him so angry. Bucky is seething with anger. He gets up and paces, muttering unflattering comments about Sam.

“Bucky? Is...this...did he…?”  Your voice stops him. You sound so small and fragile. You’d seemed so solid and okay that he forgets you’re not. He forgot that your husband left you and your world crumpled right in front of you. And suddenly, he’s angry again, but not at Sam--that’s for another day--he’s angry at Steve in a way he hasn’t been before. How could he leave you? Beautiful you, who’s good, and makes coffee in the mornings, and smells like roses, and would probably look so pretty spread out underneath him. (That last thought is also for another day, when he can afford to think about what it means that he wants you spread out under him.)

And shit, you’re crying.

Bucky stands there in a panic when you start crying. It’s fucking stupid you’re crying, it doesn’t matter who has the shield, it’s not going to bring Steve back into your life, not in the way that matters. But it had felt like things were going to be okay when you knew that it was Sam who was going to get the shield and the title. Sam, who’s good and kind and who won’t let it corrupt him. This John Walker motherfucker is an unknown. He’s not Steve and he’s not Sam and he looks like the world has never told him no. What’s he going to do with all the power?

Bucky pulls you into his chest, lets your angry tears soak into his shirt. He awkwardly pats your back and pets your hair. Once the tears have dried, it makes you giggle how uncomfortable he is with comforting someone. Bucky smiles down at you, a heart breaking smile that’s too much like Steve’s but also not enough like Steve’s and makes your stomach flip a little, which makes you start crying all over again. After 20 minutes of crying and awkward patting, Bucky scoops you up and carries you to your bed. He lays with you all night, letting you cry and then holding you while you sleep.

It’s his first night in a bed (his first night with a woman, his brain helpfully adds) in...he doesn’t know how long. The thought makes him flee like the coward he is.

You wake up and Bucky’s gone. There’s a note on the table, says he went to ask Sam what this is all about. A knock interrupts your breakfast preparations. “Buck, you don’t have to--” It’s not Bucky, it’s three men in suits, and one John Walker, bearing flowers. You almost punch him, scream that he’s not Captain America and never will be. John thrusts the flowers at you and marches into the apartment as if he owns it. Before you can toss him out on his ass, one of the suits is explaining they have a plan for you and, unless you want them to recall certain activities you’d been apart of. Activities that would make you a war criminal. Activities that would send you to prison for decades.

So you, Captain America’s (ex?)wife, publicly become John Walker’s strongest supporter and girlfriend. The official story is that you’d met during the interviews (if there were interviews for the new Captain America, they hadn’t included you in them), and fallen in love at first sight. You were taking it slow, out of respect for your husband who was still out there somewhere (the moon, maybe?), but you were very much madly in love. Bucky and Sam come home from...wherever they’d been and find you cuddled up to their enemy. Every time John smiles and calls you kitten, every time you have to kiss him, you want to punch him in that stupid face of his.

The police station is a fucking mess. Bucky’s been arrested, the police are being racist and fucking with Sam, and to top it all off, John’s the one who frees Bucky. You’ve known Bucky long enough to know how much this pisses him off and then he spots you and his jaw clenches even harder. You have to hold yourself back from running over to him and explaining what happened. You desperately want to tell him that it’s not what it looks like, that you’re not wearing a stupid, flimsy sundress that brings out John’s eyes because you want to, someone dressed you and this is so you don’t go to prison. A quiet voice reminds you that maybe going to prison for a long time would be worth it if you never had to see that look on his face again. Words are exchanged, Bucky and Sam walk off, John warns them to “stay the hell out of his way”, which doesn’t sound as cool as he thinks it does.

You go home, home to the apartment where Bucky is. He’s at the kitchen table, eating cold beans again. There’s a bag by his feet (when had he collected enough things to have a bag?) and you realize he’s leaving. He’s so mad about Walker that he’s leaving, like Steve did.

“Don’t leave.” Your voice is small in the quiet, dim apartment. “Just...stay. Even if you don’t talk to me, just don’t leave.” “I’m going to talk to Zemo. You stay here with Walker.” Before you can think, before you really consider what it means if you do this, you surge forward and kiss him.

You stand in the kitchen, kissing for a few moments before Bucky pulls away. He stares down at you, looking wild and scared, before turning and walking out the door.

[honeypirate]

Flower in the Sun

AU where Beni has a mom (I don’t know if he doesn’t I just know about his adoptive father/master)

Benimaru x Fem!Reader

Not edited don’t hate me for the many mistakes

5.5k words

You tried to focus on the celebration, tried to let go of all the stress you felt right now, but it was difficult considering you JUST moved here less than a year ago, opened your shop in town and lived above it, and now your whole apartment/shop was obliterated. back to basically square one for who knows how long.

You sat by the edge of the celebration, chewing on your lip as you thought about your options. You’d have to move your shop back to the barn on the gardens you have outside of town but you didn’t get as much business that way.. plus you can’t really sleep there. You could move back in with your mother but she lived near company 3 and baked them a cake every sunday, your sisters family lived in the Shinjuku District but they were holy sol nuts and you really didn’t want to have to ask them of all people. So the barn was the only real option right now, no bed but at least it has a roof and a door with a lock. A voice cuts through your thoughts and you pay attention when you realize it belongs to Benimaru

‘If I wrecked your house last night feel free to stay at the guardhouse until it’s fixed. It won't take too long.” you felt a weight lift off your shoulders as you watched those without homes gather around him for details, you pick yourself up and walk over to the group so you could hear what to do.

At the guard house you are directed to a small room at the back since you were just one person and not a family. You didn't mind that it was a small space or that you were farther away from anyone else, you were just grateful you could stay in Asakusa and keep your business running. You are told that you can help yourself to breakfast in the morning and dinner will be served for everyone at night and you were given a few essential toiletries.

When you are certain that everyone else staying there had used the showers, you gave it some extra time so that the hot water will replenish before you made your way silently down the quiet halls of the guard house.

You walk past a door that was open, you glance as you walk by and see Benimaru help bandage Konro, the sight brought a small smile to your lips as you continued your course to the showers.

Their conversation after you passed went something like this

“Waka”

“I saw her”

“She's beautiful. You should..”

“No”

Konro sighs “if you don't, maybe I wilL”

“You’re such a pain in the ass”

Your shower was amazing, they really spared no expense on the quality of shampoo and conditioner. You were so glad to not smell like smoke anymore as you changed into a new set of clothes, they were too big and just a fire force soldier shirt and jumper, but you didn't care. They were clean and comfortable. You folded your dirty clothes into a small stack and carried it back to your room, making a mental note to run to the clothing store in the next few days.

The next morning you are up at dawn, walking through the still quiet hallways towards the kitchen. You get warm in the baggy jumpsuit so you undo it halfway and tie the arms around your waist before you open the doorway. Inside there is a long table with different foods set out and at the end is Benimaru and Konro. You bow to them “thank you for letting me stay” you say, your voice as quiet as the morning. “I’m sorry for destroying your home.” Benimaru says and you rise, a smile on your lips as you make your way farther into the room before kneeling down in front of the table across from Konro.

“You’re Y/N L/N who owns the herb and flower shop” Konro says, recognizing you now that you were up close. You nod and reach out, grabbing some bread “yes I am, although my shop will now be run from the gardens just outside of town until it is rebuilt. My herb garden was on top of my apartment building so some special herbs will be out of stock for a while” you laugh and rip a piece of bread and put it in your mouth. “There is a garden behind the guardhouse that is hardly used, feel free to plant whatever you like” Benimaru says and you blush before bowing your head “thank you very much Captain Shinmon.” He frowns and Konro chuckles under his breath “just call me Benimaru” he says and you nod “of course. Benimaru” you notice the sunrise outside and stand again “thank you again, for breakfast as well” you say with a bow before leaving the room, your unfinished bread in your hand to finish on your way to the gardens. you had to set up your new shop in the barn on the flower farm you made sure to leave as early as you could since that would take a while, good thing you had one employee to help you, your close friend Jo.

One eye like a bullseye and one like an X. you couldn’t look away from him even if you wanted to. Here he was, in your shop, pursuing the already made bouquets you had made that morning and the potted plants Jo had taken care of. You watched him talk to Jo for a second from your spot at the back counter, before resuming his shopping.

You could hear Jo next to you saying your name but it didn’t register that she was talking to you until she walked in front of your vision “huh?” you ask and she glares “huh?! I have been practically shouting at you for the past five minutes. Could you take your eyes off of the Captain for a second please?” your cheeks turn red as you look down sheepishly “sorry Jo” you whisper and she laughs at you then says “he’s actually looking for you, oh flower master” you gasp and look up into her eyes “WHAT?” you practically shout and then crouch down behind the counter when you see his head turn. Your coworker leans over the side and says “and he’s coming this way now. good job dummy” before she leaves “fuuuck” you whisper and panic, how are you going to okay this off? “didn’t know you hated me this much y/n. Is it because I destroyed your home?”

You dip your head back to look up at his face which is now looking over at you as he leans over the counter. His facial expression was uninterested but he had curious eyes. His voice was monotone, like he had way more things to be doing than this mediocre errand. You pop to your feet, your face feeling like 100 degrees. “No!! I mean yes! I mean!Ugh” you sigh and close your eyes, stealing a moment before opening your eyes, a customer service smile and voice when you say “no, I dont hate you. Sorry i'm just a little flustered. How may i help you today?”

“I need some flowers and when you mentioned your garden at breakfast I thought I would come down. I need whatever says “i’m sorry for not coming to dinner for 5 months i still love you mom” you bite back a giggle as you think of his mom, a regular at your shop who would come just to talk “say no more, come with me and we will build you a perfect bouquet” he nods and you grab a flower basket and a knife, leading him out the side door into the garden.

“So these ones are blue hyacinths, they represent peace and truth” he hums before shaking his head “no” he says and you chuckle, leading him down a few rows before stopping again “these are called star of bethlehem, they mean reconciliation” he leans in close “i like these ones” he says and you smile “perfect” you say and reach out cutting a few and adding them to your basket before walking down a few more rows.

You spend half an hour looking around at the flowers and chatting easily. “So why haven't you been to dinner with your sweet mother? She comes in every once in a while and only has nothing but kind things to say about you” you ask while you finish the arrangement of star of bethlehem, yellow roses, white ivy flowers, spider mums, and lily of the valley. You spruced it up with some ivy greenery and the last of the rosemary and chamomile flowers in the shop, the seeds you’re going to plant back at the guard house were already in your bag in the back.

The bouquet you made was beautiful and you felt proud as you tied around a few ribbons “Just busy is all” he says and you hand the bouquet over “well, tell her y/n from the flower shop says hi” he nods “i will. thank you y/n” he says, his fingers brushing yours as he takes the flowers. “Will i see you at dinner?” he asks and you smile “wouldn't miss it” he nods “good Konro will stop asking me now” you chuckle, does that mean Konro likes you? You push the thought aside “have a good rest of your day, Benimaru” you say and he gives you a small smile “you as well” you notice the flush of pink on his neck as he exits the shop.

“Ohhh these are lovely! Are they from y/n’s garden??” Beni nods “she say’s hi by the way” his mom smiles and brings the flowers into the kitchen to grab a vase “that girl is so sweet, she always remembers FooFoo and if i bring her with she gives her treats.” Benimaru feels his heart warm as he crouches down to scratch the tiny head of the senior dog laying on the floor. “She moved her shop to her garden until it’s rebuilt” he says, remembering the way he felt her eyes on him in the store, the way her hair shown in the sunlight as she brought him around her garden, telling him about the means behind every flower he asked about, the way the conversation was easy. He found himself wanting to talk to her again, trying to find any reason to go back to your garden. “Benimaru!” his mom shouts and he looks up to her “sorry ma” he says and she just shakes her head with a smile “shes quite beautiful isnt she?” his mom says as she places the flowers in the vase “yeah” Beni says “she is”

When you get back to the guard house after work it’s already dark and quiet, you had a lot of work to do once you closed and it unfortunately made you miss dinner. You roll your shoulders as you take off your shoes by the back gate, picking them up as you walk into the back garden. You hum softly to yourself as you find a watering can and hose, filling it up halfway and bringing it with you over to the garden boxes filled with dry dirt. You chuckle at the sight “poor unfortunate neglected dirt, not for long tho” you whisper as you wet the soil, sure you could plant more things at your garden around your flowers but if you did both you'd have more supply when they were grown. Plus it was the perfect time to plant. You kneel by the garden box and mix up the soil so it was all wet and combined before planting the seeds. Unaware of the man on the back porch watching you as you went, a smile on his lips.

You snap your fingers and the hanging lanterns above you light, making your face glow as you look up and make eye contact with Benimaru, a smile on your lips when you notice his shocked expression. He recovers quick with a smile you can tell he’s trying to hide “you missed dinner” he states and you chuckle “I’m sorry to make you miss me” you say with a chuckle “Would you like to help me?” your voice was quiet but he heard it like it was right by his ear.

He stands from his spot and walks over to you, his feet making soft sounds when they hit the dirt. He kneels down next to you and you take his hands in yours, making him cup them, the dirt on your hands rubbing off on him. “Take some of these” you dump some seeds into his hands “and plant them in a row, a couple finger widths apart and a knuckle deep” he nods as he follows your orders, you start on another row and hum softly as you go.

“You’re a pyrokinetic” he says and you chuckle “kind of. I mean. I never had any training so I can’t fight or anything with it. Nothing compared to your talents. But technically yes” “You’ve watched me so often you know of my talents?” he asks and you watch as his fingers push seeds into a neat row. You chuckle “yes, im not ashamed to say it. You’re captivating and insanely talented.” His cheeks flush and he clears his throat “is..is this right?” He asks and pulls his dirt covered empty hands away “that’s perfect Beni” he holds his hand out for more seeds and you smile as you pour some more into his palm.

“These are chamomiles, one of my favorites although common” you say “why do you like it?” he asks and you feel your stomach birth a butterfly or two “when i was younger, my grandma owned the flower garden. She would plant beautiful flowers and let me pick whichever ones I wanted. Then at the end of the day she would let me go pick as many chamomile flowers as i wanted so she could make tea. As we drank tea should tell me stories, I love chamomile because it reminds me of quality time and the stories that can be shared over a good cup of tea”

You finish your story as you both finish planting. You wipe your hands off on your pants as you stand up with him “thank you for your help” you say with a smile that he returns “thank you for the story” you nod “anytime Benimaru” he picks up your shoes and hands them to you before he puts the watering can back and disappears inside the guard house.

You snap your fingers as you walk inside, the lanterns going out before you close the door.

You don’t see Benimaru for the next few days, he wasn’t there for breakfast or dinner, you guess he has fire force duties that keeps him busy but you can't help but wonder how he is.

You get home from work late again, a wedding coming up that has been keeping you busy. You shower and then make your way through the guardhouse to the kitchen, it’s quieter than usual, a few families homes are already built and yours should be soon as well. You walk into the kitchen and smile when you see Beni already there “hi” you whisper as you shuffle to the cupboard to grab a mug and some tea “hi y/n” he says when you stand next to him at the stove, the tea kettle already heating up “can’t sleep?” you ask and he nods. You notice the dark circles under his eyes and how bloodshot they look. You hum in response and frown at the response your heart had when you saw him. Like you wished you could take care of him and rub his back while he lays in bed. “Are you just getting back?” he asks and you nod and cover your mouth as you yawn “yeah. Mrs. Kim’s daughter is getting married sunday and I’ve been making all the arrangements. White peonies, lavender, and ivy, it’s gorgeous” he notices the bandages on your fingers and dark circles under your eyes that almost match his. He wants nothing more to hold you while you both fall asleep. He’s so sleep deprived and he can see you are as well, but his thoughts are cut off by the whistle of the pot. “Do you wanna sit?” he asks and you nod with a smile.

You sit and talk at the little table in the kitchen, the only light coming from the one hanging above the table. It felt like you were in your own world as you talked and shared stories, laughing at the many things he told you about growing up and meeting Konro.

You told him more stories about your grandma, about your childhood. You bonded over mutual feelings for religion and politics, over what you want for the future. Before long you’ve finished a cup of chamomile tea and your second cup has gone cold, at some point he grabbed your hands and was now playing with your fingertips as he told you the story of how he became captain, sharing his fears with you in the safe space of the quiet kitchen. “I think I will always believe that Konro could have been better at this than me” he whispers and you lean forward, reaching up to brush his hair from his forehead before cupping his cheek “for what it’s worth, I think you are perfect” you hear his breath catch as his eyes look up into yours “perfect for this company, for this town. I talk to many of the people who live here and I have only ever heard praise and kindness for you. Your people love you. I know you don't like sweets that much but I’ve seen you accept them AND eat them and that says so much about you. People always give you so many gifts because it’s the only way we know how to give back, to you and the company for protecting the people and always being there.” Your hand slips as you go to move it from his cheek but he moves his hand up, covering yours and holding it in place.

“You may not feel worthy of this mantle, Waka” you smirk and give him a sweet look, knowing about his nickname and using it in this context makes his heart race as a small chuckle escapes his throat. “And no matter what i say, you can live with what makes you comfortable. But know that you are ultimately not living the truth.” He ponders your words for a moment and brings his hand down, taking yours with it. “The truth being that you DO deserve this position. You ARE worthy. You ARE the best and most qualified for this” his fingers laced together with yours “and you have the support of your team and basically the whole city...” your cheeks blush and you look down at your hands together against the table “and you have mine as well” you whisper

Benimaru was gone the next few days, Konro as well. Leaving you in the guard house as more and more families left, able to go back to their newly built homes until only a few of you remained.

Your bare feet plop along the wooden floor, echoing in the empty quiet hallway as you make your way to the back. Your long duster cardigan hitting the back of your ankles and making your shorts and tank top seem even more cozier. The sound of birds makes you smile as you take a deep breath of the fresh morning air, walking to the little garden with a watering can in your hand.

“Good morning” he said softly, his voice strained and tired. You smile and your head snaps up to look at him, your smile falling as you take him in.

You set down the watering can and stand, making your way to him in an instant. “Are you okay?” You ask, your hands reach for him but stop a short distance away. His face had a bandage on his cheek and forehead, his left hand wrapped, and a bruise forming around his left eye. “Just a couple scratches is all” he says, taking one of your hands with his right hand and slowly leads you back to the plants. “They’re growing nicely” he says as he looks down at the sprouts, already a little tall and poking out of the dirt in just a week.

He drops your hand to pick up the watering can, raining down the cool liquid over your plants, the dry lightened dirt turning dark brown. “You’re going to work?” He asks and you shrug “I don’t have anything special to do today, and if I’m being honest” you blush and take the can from his hand, walking to put it away so you didn’t have to look at him “I wanted to go in today so I didn’t think about how much I wanted to talk to you”

His breath catches and his wounds don’t even throb anymore, he wasn’t paying attention. All that matters is the soft way your voice reached his ears, saying something he didn’t even realize he was hoping for. You’ve been missing him, just as much as he seemed to miss you. “Will you get some breakfast with me?” He asks, his voice normal, hiding every anxiety and feeling deep in his heart, but as you turned and met his eye you could see the hope he's feeling in them.

“I was thinking” you say after Konro excuses himself from breakfast, leaving you and Beni alone. “Could you.. I mean. Do you know of anyone who could train me with my abilities? If it’s possible I could get stronger then I want to” your hands are in closed fists against your thighs and you me eyes shone with the determination you feel. He chuckles softly, popping a piece of fruit in his mouth and thinking as he chews. “I think I could figure something out. Tomorrow night work for you?” You beam at him, grinning from ear to ear with excitement “that works perfect!” You place your hand on his arm that rests against the table “Thank you Benimaru” you say softly and he nods, trying desperately to suppress the blush he feels is imminent.

The next evening you went out to check your ganden before you were supposed to train, you hoped that he had found someone nice to help you. “Are you ready?” He asks behind you and you smile while you stand from your place by the small growing herbs “as I’ll ever be! Who will you have train me?” You ask and meet his eyes, raising yours brows in question, noticing his face was without his bandages today and his wounds really did look like scratches. “I will” he states and you watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows.

You take a couple steps towards him “no!” You exclaim louder than intended and you laugh once awkwardly as his eyebrows raise “I mean. You’re hurt! and my power is so low it’s not worth your time. I’ve seen the boys you train! their power and skill is levels higher than me” he walks over to you, setting his right hand on your shoulder and leaning down to your ear “I want to” he whispers and your cheeks dust pink as a small gasp leaves your throat, oh how he desperately loved that sound. He pulls back with a smirk “and I’ve said” he raises his left hand that still had a small bandage around his palm “it’s just a scratch” he begins to walk away from you, over to the training space and you’re stunned for a few moments. Standing there and watching his back as he walked away, your heartbeat racing and your brain empty save it for the way Benimaru’s breath tickled your ear.

“Well?” He asks when he realizes you’re not following him, turning back and looking at you with daring eyes, snapping you back into reality. Your smile spreads and the sight sends him over the moon, a feeling invading his heart that he’s become enamored with these past few days having you at the guardhouse. You were the sun slowly rising in his life, and he was drawn to your warmth. “Let’s do this” you say as you reach his side, the back of your hand brushing his for only a moment but it sends fireworks up his arm.

“Show me what you can do, outside of lanterns” he says as he stands to the side, his eyes taking in your form as you stand facing him. You hold up your hands and nod once, the tip of each finger igniting in small flames. “I can’t make them bigger but I can do..” you tighten each flame to smaller tips, growing in power and heat until they blazed like the head of welding guns. He nods once “she’s more powerful than she realizes” he thinks as he watches the flames reflecting your eyes.

“That’s good” he says as he approaches you “is this all you know how to do?” He asks as he takes a hold of your wrists gently, turning your hands and looking at your flames. “I couldn’t really practice a lot growing up so this is it unfortunately” he chuckles once, mostly just air from his nose, but it made you smile anyway. “Can you control which fingers or..” before he finishes you start randomly lighting and unlighting fingertips. “Now try to shoot the flames out” he says and you nod, trying to push the flames out but just ending up breaking a sweat and flashing your flames, not going anywhere else.

After fifteen minutes of absolutely nothing happening you sigh and flung your hands up in the air “I can not be this WEAK” you exclaim and shake them as you scowl. He sighs and comes over to you, reaching up and smoothing out your eyebrows gently before holding his hands out to you.

You hesitate, your hands almost being set in his before you pause and he raises his eyebrows “chicken” he whispers and you drop your hands against his “tch” he clicks his tongue and you roll your eyes as he uses his thumbs and first two fingers to rub your wrist gently “it’s your first test. Relax” he says, his fingers moving to the middle of your hand “there are many other things we’ll try, none of which make you weak if you can’t do them” goosebumps running down your spine as he moves down each finger, your breath catching in your throat with how gentle he was being with you and how nice it felt for him to be doing this to your hands, another sound that he found he adored. He brings your hands up and kisses each knuckle softly, effectively short wiring your brain yet again. “Try again” he whispers, letting your hands go and standing back again.

You took a deep shaky breath and closed your eyes for a moment, feeling the warmth of the sun on your skin and the warmth he has ignited in your heart, before opening your eyes and shoving your hands out, each finger popping as flames, strong, bright blue flames, shoot from each finger.

“BENIMARU!” You shout and laugh, dropping the flames and turning to run and throw your arms around his neck “oof” he mumbles as you hit him, his arms wrapping around you to keep you both stable. “I did it! I did it! I did it!” He sighs softly into your hair, “I saw” he whispered “wanna find out what else you can do?” He asks, his lips brushing against the side of your head. You squeeze him closer for a moment before pulling back “does this mean I should call you my Senpai? Or my Captain?” He rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop the blush that rose to his cheeks “No.” he says, but you laugh when he won’t meet your eye.

“You’ve come a long way for just a few hours” he says as you walk back to the garden, the sun beginning to set “you’re a really amazing teacher” you lean in close “Captain” you whisper before making a turn for the hose. He stops in his tracks after you whispered, his heart fluttering in his chest as he forces himself to calm down before turning and walking over to you

You look up to him from where you were crouched, running hose in one hand after you washed your face and the back of your neck. “You look a little flushed” you say as he crouches by you, reaching out for the hose. He just Humphs as you move the water closer to him, a smirk in your lips and mischief in his eyes that he would have known right away had he looked up at you.

Your thumb covers the end just so as he leans down, raising the pressure as it hits his hands spraying his face as well. You chuckle before placing your fingers against your lips, holding in as much of your giggles as you could. He slowly looks up into your eyes, water droplets falling from his hair and nose, he was annoyed for half of a second until he meets your eyes, notices the sweet mischief in your eyes and hears your soft giggles as they leave your lips. “Did you just..” you nod and slowly stand to back away from him, the mischief rising to his eyes as the corners of his mouth twitch up into a smile. He stands and takes one step towards you and you raise your emotu hand, “WAIT” you say and he stops “we.. we can talk about this..” you say with a smile, giggles escaping with every exhale. “I think we’re too far past talking about this” he says before he moves, quick with his hand out towards the hose but you scream and try to run, spraying him behind you as he gets closer. He laughs as he grabs you, his arms wrapping around your middle from behind not caring about the cool hose water that was currently soaking him. He reaches up and takes the hose from your hand and turns you around before smiling and slowly running the water across the back of your head then across both of your shoulders making you gasp and tense in his hold. “I think we’re even now” you say with a shiver and a laugh and he cocks his head “not yet” he says softly, his hands reaching up to tuck your damp hair behind your ears.

You gasp, his cold fingers cooling off your warm cheeks as he cups your face. The hose forgotten about, dropped on the grass by your feet, soaking the earth and making your toes muddy. But nothing else matters besides the way he’s looking at you and the way the sun is turning the sky red behind him.

Your hands grip the sides of his soaked shirt as you lean into him “and how, tell me, can we make it even?” You ask, following his hands with your face as he pulls you closer, his body curving forward as you lean forward on your tip toes, brushing your nose against his making his breath hitch “can I show you?” He whispers and you nod, your eyes fluttering closed as he closes the last inch between your lips.

Kissing him felt like the first breath of fresh air after an infernal has been put to rest. Felt like the first relaxing step into a hot spring. It sends goosebumps from your head to his toes before being followed by electricity making your skin tingle. Fireworks dance across the backs of your eyes as he wraps an arm around your waist, holding you tight against him. You sigh as your heart sways within your chest, comforting and warm as he holds you like his lifeline.

His thumb brushes softly against your cheek when he pulls away. Your hands smooth out his shirt before running your hands up his wet chest, his hands moving down to both rest against your waist. You can’t think of anything to say, just savoring the moment as you look into his eyes.

“Are you guys coming to dinner?” The twins say from the porch, effectively startling the hell out of you. You gasp and clutch your heart as Beni just smiles down at you, his back to them. “Thanks. We’ll be there in a minute” he says and they skip off. “We should get going. We’re gonna get sick” you say and reach up, running a hand through your damp hair. He reaches down and turns off the hose as you gather it, putting it away correctly and he reaches out, hooking his fingers with yours. “Mom will kill me if you get sick” he says softly and you laugh “maybe you could.. help me clean up. Make sure I don’t get sick” he coughs a few times, choking on his spit in shock and you laugh “Beni” you say softly and pause in the doorway, looking up at him. “I’m playing. I really like you. I’d like to take it as slow or fast as we both are comfortable with, okay?” You reach up and ruffle his damp hair, pushing it out of his eyes. His cheeks flush and he leans down, pressing his forehead to yours as your eyes close. “I adore you” he whispers and your heart flutters. “Let’s go get cleaned up” he whispers and squeezes your hand, guiding you along with him to the showers.

[subwalls]

i simply think a sensory deprivation curse on c!dream would be like. hm.

raising a world seed into a full-blown server requires some negotiation. it’s not hard, because the universe loves each and every player that exists, but the voices are pickier about it, so it’s still a process.

dream is very good at it. he has to be, to spawn so many little worlds for manhunts and the like. this time, though, he’s asking for a lot more than he normally does: every natural feature the universe has to give, enough room for those he loves, every barrier to keep out those he does not, and enough power to administer justice as he sees fit.

the universe sings in eager delight. the voices twist closer, curious but skeptical. the starlit glimmer of their speech curls around him, staying just clear of the wishing seed he cradles between his hands.

now, hold on. the structures you seek are many. whose eyes will it be to appreciate them, even if they lie at the edges of the world, even if their gifts are not worth the trek taken?

mine, the player says.

the vast space you seek is heavy. whose shoulders will it be to hold the weight of it, when the world becomes too burdened to sustain its own place in the universe?

mine, the player says.

the protection you seek is unyielding. whose hand will it be to carve every permitted callsign into its most protected chambers, to tame the roaring blaze of its defense so that some may pass unharmed?

mine, the player says.

the power you seek is heady. whose body will it be to anchor the soul that must bear that responsibility, which will cave to the rebellion of the world against the will of its soul, if it must?

mine, the player says.

there is silence as the voices contemplate this. they drift away and draw near again, intelligible static moaning quietly from their unseen throats as they discuss amongst themselves. and then, at last, one addresses him again.

this is much to put on you and only you. but you have accepted this. do not forget.

you make this for the joy and laughter of your friends—this is easy to see, young dreamer. do not forget.

a server world is a world that serves. it will serve your friends. we will not tolerate anything less.

we will not tolerate oathbreaking. the world will not tolerate abuse.

you are its vassal.

you are its to punish.

dream says, i understand.

and the universe says, i love you, and the seed cupped in his palms pulses gently, and then fiercely, boldly, life blooming under the sworn promise of someone who will tend to it, and—all at once, the void is forced back. land shudders into existence in a rushing wave that reaches far and wide, and the core of it purrs to life into dream’s heart.

the wind whistles along the plains, laughing through the trees and their countless leaves. lakes lap gently at their shores at the base of mountains that stretch up to the sky, high and waiting.

and dream has his server. he inhales the sweet air and runs his fingers along the grass, curling his fingers along the soft petal of a flower and feels nothing but love and anticipation for what the server is and what it might become.

he lifts a hand and the protective borders of the world roar to him, walls of flame rushing past his senses before a shimmering white list coalesces before him. it is empty until he carves a few callsigns into it. just three, for now, but there is room for many more.

his friends arrive, after that. they play, and they relish, and they ask for more. who is dream to deny them, in a world meant to be theirs? he carves more names into the list. they arrive, they play, they ask. he carves more still, and then more, and more.

there is as much room as dream needs.

they skirmish and play-fight. it’s an easy thing, running rings around each other while shrieking for mercy or blood, building ugly things of wood and faith and cobblestone and friendship, playing pretend without a care in the world.

at least, it was easy, up until—

wilbur soot says, “this is a different server, independent of dream smp.” 

wilbur soot says, “you and yours are forbidden from stepping foot here.”

wilbur soot says, “this is l’manburg, and this is mine, and we will stand our ground.”

wilbur soot, whose father is the winged angel of death, who could nearly call the blood god his own family, whose bloodline is so entrenched in the dealings of voids and voices that he must know what dream had to do to turn a world seed into a haven of a server, this wilbur soot is the one who meets dream’s mask with a wide grin and an open taunt, daring him. mocking him.

and dream, remembering the responsibility he swore to take on as his own and no other’s, the word mine in echo through his soul, says, “no.”

and they war.

(you know this story.)

but it’s odd. it’s odd because after dream’s arrow sinks into tommy’s heart and dashes his soul against the rocks, he tastes ash in the back of his throat. it does not go away when he rinses his mouth out in the clear rivers of his land, nor when he gulps down a bucket of milk, nor when he bites into the cake his allies make to celebrate their victory.

the pastry melts on his tongue with what must be copious amounts of sugar, but he cannot tell that it is meant to be sweet.

dream tastes nothing but ash.

he laughs past it. there is an inkling of fear in his gut, but compared to the rib-shaking thunder of his heart when he’s low on health on a manhunt, it is easy enough to overlook. especially when tommy comes to him.

tommy offers a trade and dream is intrigued enough to accept. he figures that if tommy was willing to give up his most treasured items for this, for what is little more than a name and an toothless claim, then maybe this nation deserves a... chance.

in name, at least. not true independence—no more than a flower can be independent of the land it is rooted in—but there is no need to overreach his control when he’s already proven that they cannot do anything to him and his.

he lets them play. that’s what this server is for, in the end.

(the end. that should’ve been the end, but it’s not.)

not long passes before the fake nation festering like an unwelcome cancerous growth on dream’s land suddenly wants to make itself realer than before. it turns words to action with an election that goes sideways at its peak and buckles under itself. by the close of the day, its new leader has driven out its founding members, lighting the fuse to its own destruction.

dream, overlooking the chaos of it all, sighs.

this nation will never be anything more than a mistake, it seems. whether it is l’manburg or manburg does not matter; it binds its population by excluding something else, and thus by definition is a sin against a world made to be shared.

in the aftermath, dream curls a little tighter around his family, but it’s too late. the first crack has already been made and everyone is all the more fragile for it.

when a few more decide to take leave of the heartland, they do not tell dream. he finds out by the empty houses and unfamiliar flags, and he...

they...

... it’s fine. they did not like the fighting, is all. of course they would rebrand and skirt the violence.

it does not mean abandonment, surely.

dream does not raise his sword against his inner circle, no matter where they place their allegiances. he instead focuses on the one he’s certain is rotten to the core, and he’ll sing l’manburg’s praises if it means that piece of land will finally stop inciting war after war after war.

“its name is l’manburg, not manburg,” he says in the dark ravine of pogtopia, and wilbur cheers and tommy raises a brow and dream feels sick to his stomach.

tommy mumbles something about carbon monoxide poisoning and complains about the smoke from all the torches and campfires and lanterns they use to light up the place. wilbur rebukes that they cannot ventilate the smoke without giving themselves away, and so they bicker, but it occurs to dream that he hadn’t noticed the difference.

the stale smoke-tinged air smells the same as the fresh winds outside.

he’s handed a baked potato as he leaves. he holds it to his face for a beat before tentatively biting into it.

ash. dust.

the lack of taste, he’s grown used to. but his sense of smell is gone now as well, and that inkling of fear strengthens.

he remembers what he promised to the voices. his body will cave to the rebellion of the world, should he stray from its intended purpose. but he has yet to break an oath or abuse his powers. he doesn’t understand.

is it the side he’s on?

if the server vies for him to join manburg, then of course he will flip sides for it. of course he does. he even conspires behind their backs, ensuring that if pogtopia wins l’manburg still does not win.

he was right to, because the day of reckoning comes with the failure of manburg’s leader.

he was wrong to, because dream’s fingers go numb on the handle of his axe when he brings it down on his rival’s shield, and the feeling never returns. something in his chest sours with frustration.

(something cracks, deep inside, ripping apart hairline fractures into something more serious, more troubling. his soul quakes. the universe wails, but nobody has touched the server’s End by law decree, and the void goes unseen.)

dream rips off his helmet and lets time run out the invisibility running through his veins. he yields to pogtopia’s glaring victory with ease, because it was never the nation he fought for but his responsibility to the land it sat on.

and because he still wins, in the end. the ground ruptures as a blast consumes the remnants of manburg, and yet even then dream is the last to move away from it.

he knew it was coming, but reacted last, and not only that but overbalances along the way. he nearly tips sapnap into line of fire when he meant to pull him free from it.

they laugh it off later, but. sapnap looks over his shoulder more often. dream does not meet his gaze, instead contemplating the ground and how he did not feel the rumble of the earth before it blew.

he needs to sort this out. so he goes to find an open field.

he spends hours and then days in that field, figuring out how much he needs to pull back a bow to loose it swiftly. how tightly does he need to hold a weapon before he cracks its hilt? how roughly can he handle his own armor before the thorns bite back at him?

(elsewhere, an entity realizes it can touch, and it does. it uses that touch to kill those who kill on its sacred lands. the rules of the world must be followed. it does not know anything else.)

later still, a mushroom house burns.

dream looks to the smoldering remains with something tight and knotted and insufficient between his ribs, and then he looks to george, upset by the loss but upset more by dream taking back his crown, and he says, “it’s to keep you safe.”

his words leave his mouth, and the world falls silent.

dream blinks.

it’s not silent. he knows this because he can still feel the flames that should be crackling behind them, because george’s jaw is moving, because sapnap is nodding in agreement.

but they are silent. the world is silent.

no, the world is not silent. the world louder than it has ever been in its rebellion and his body is caving to it as he promised it would, and dream—dream does not falter, despite the sudden knowledge that the server he raised loathes every step he takes. he does not stammer.

he repeats the words he cannot hear but knows have left his lips, turns, and leaves.

he does not look back. he does not know that sapnap is calling after him, that george pauses mid-turn, that among the vitriol thrown at his back there is also a worry and a question. but there is no way for him to know, not with the server itself in uproar, devastatingly loud in the utter silence it inflicts on him.

fear claws up his lungs and he breaks from a walk to a jog to an outright run, and he runs and keeps running past all the structures he knows and built until it just forest and land and silence. safe, far, and alone, he digs his hands into the grassy dirt and says is this not what you wanted? is this not what i swore to do?

why do you hate me?

selfish, his precious world accuses. it is not a sound because there is no sound he can hear, but it is a hiss in his marrow, a keening in his soul. selfish, selfish. you leap for control you oughtn’t take and will burn them for it.

they burned me first.

did they? what did they do but till the fertile land? speak. speak. what did they do but flourish as you bid them to, wished them to?

they took from me and would not return it and struck back when i came to them. you are mine. i raised you.

and did you not freely give? is that not the purpose this world serves? do not forget. do not forget. do not forget.

dream does not so much pull back from the foundations of the world so much as it throws him out with teeth bared in warning and talons pressing down over his ribs, the ever-fragile beat of his heart cowed in its cage. it is a thought rather than a feeling, thankfully; just as it is the force of an arrow nearly knocking him down that makes him aware of the two others sticking out from his shoulders, once he lifted his arm to see what it was that had bumped into him.

his blood trickles down his arms as he yanks out the arrows, unfeeling.

fine, he thinks.

and dream, creator and administrator and player who cares too much and brought too much on his own shoulders, takes the injured confused uncomprehending thing so soft in the back of his mind, and puts it out.

enough is enough. his world is his server is his, and it will be brought to heel. even if it does not want him, and he does not want it, it is his to raise or raze and he will not have this haven ruined at the hands of the clumsy and unknowing.

who do you love, he asks it bitterly, yanking a netherite axe out of the air.

all of you.

who do you love, he asks again, and this time he finds his own answer in the way the events churn around one person, one survivor, one person who moves the server with a word and turns it against itself with another and leads every storm that rages: tommy.

all of you.

if you will not be mine, he says, then you will be no one’s. and he knows that this is a dangerous line to walk, and he has seen wilbur walk it to its bloody, deadly end, but he has right where wilbur had only words and songs. dream made this server for a reason and he will not give that up.

so he walks back.

he walks back, and he thinks, sourly, that maybe this is a blessing. the world takes his senses but he is stronger without them, really. who has need of taste or smell on a battleground? he can fight better like this, unfeeling, unburdened by pain.

it is easier to talk over their protests when he cannot hear them to begin with.

“exile tommy,” he tells tubbo, carefully shaping the words on his tongue, “and i will forgive you.”

and tubbo sputters and tommy rages and the world claws at him from the inside out, no, no, why are you doing this, this is not what was wanted.

he is calm, because their words pass over him without ever reaching.

he is calm, because they’re running out of time, and they will agree to him or die failing to. night is coming; shadows fall over them.

and then:

—nothing.

(nothing?)

nothing.

dream blinks. the void stares back at him, unblinking, stars aswirl and dancing, and just as he realizes that maybe night hadn’t come and maybe the void is not rising around him and maybe it’s just that his last sense is failing and maybe the world has rejected him for the last time and maybe everything he swore to do thinks he’s broken them and—

the silence breaks.

why why why why did you break what you swore was yours to uphold why did you lie why do you hurt and abuse and break. you were warned. you were told.

i didn’t.

you did. a server serves and you got in the way. do you not do this for your friends. why give them a beach to build on if you’re only going to punish them for using what they have. why. why why why.

... ,,uhhh honestly i don’t. know where this would go from here but because dream gets stopped early he still gets a chance to be better. the exile arc doesnt happen because dream just like collapses mid-negotiations lmao and even tommy feels kinda weird about stabbing him while he’s unresponsive. but i think i would like for the conclusion to be something like—

the universe says, i love you.

the world says, i love you more.

but it’s the the players holding him to their chests, hearts thumping in syncopation, tugging him from the brink of an edge that might have killed his love in a month’s time, who say, “i love you most. come back to us. come back.”

[falcqns]

Free Fall

Pairing: Henry Cavill x reader (first person pov)

Chapter Summary: You have a talk with your family, and Henry has a surprise for you. 

Warnings: fluff, swearing, family angst, smut, lactation kink, bodily fluids

A/N: hope you enjoy :) I also wanted to just address something quick. I know some people are going to have questions about why I haven't added a specific description for Y/N or Lavender, and that is simply because I want everyone to feel included, and welcome to read my fics! As I am a (very) white woman myself, I wouldn’t want to write a POC character incorrectly, so I’ve opted to not include a description! 

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four | chapter five | chapter six |

chapter six

You were sat in Henry’s trailer with Lavender a few days later. You had finished filming for the day, but Henry hadn't. Normally, you would have gone home, but Henry had asked you to wait and come home with him, because he had a surprise for you.

Lavender and Henry were pretty much inseparable now, and you had no worries about them bonding.

You had decided to take the free time and call your family to tell them, since Henry had told his. 

You video chatted your mom first, who picked up right away.

“Hey, Y/N. What’s up?” She said, sitting down on the couch with her phone in her hand.

“Hey, mom. I have some news,” You said, and glanced over at Lavender, who was laying on the bed with Kal next to her, asleep. “You remember Henry right?” 

Your mom nodded. “Yes, of course I do. He played Superman, how could I not.”

You laughed. “Okay well, him and I are together, and he has decided he wants to adopt Lavender.” You said.

You watched as your mom processed the information. “That’s amazing! Are you planning on telling her in the future that he’s not her father?” 

You shrugged at that. You wanted her to grow up safe and loved, and be spared the back and forth game you were put through with your mom and your absent father. But, at the same time, she deserved to know eventually.

“I don't want to, and neither does Henry. But if she asks us, we won't lie to her.” 

Your mom nodded. “Okay, good. Will you be home in time for dads family gathering next in two weeks?” She asked.

Now it was your turn to nod. “Yeah I will be. We don't leave for 3 weeks so I’ll be able to make it. I’m going to bring Henry, as well, I just haven't asked him.”

Your mom nodded. “Sounds good. I have to get ready for work, so I’ll let you go, but I’ll talk to you later tonight, alright?” She said, and you nodded.

“Yep, sounds good! Have fun at work!” You joked. Your mom rolled her eyes.

“Ha ha ha. Very funny. Okay, bye,” She said. 

“Bye,” You responded with a laugh.

Your mom hung up, and Henry walked through the trailer door not long after.

“Hello Mr Bad Guy,” You said, which made him laugh.

“Hey. How’s our children doing?” He asked, turning to look at where Lav and Kal were laying on the bed.

“Okay, last time I checked we only had ONE kid, Henry.” You said, looking at him quizzically. 

He turned to look at you with an amused look on his face. “I was talking about Kal.”

“He’s a dog, Henry.” You said, amusement present in my voice.

“He’s my blood!” Henry said, giving you a fake glare before he pulled you into a hug, which made you giggle against his chest.

He changed out of his August costume and into jeans and the blue tank top (you know which one). He gave Kal some head rubs, and checked on Lavender before joining you on the couch. He pulled you into his lap, and rested his hands on your hips. You pressed a kiss to his lips.

“Are you busy in two-ish weeks?” You asked, hoping the answer was no.

“Only with you and our baby girl,” He said, that charming smile finding a home on his lips again.

You snorted at him, but continued. “Well, dads side of the family is having a get together and my mom wants us to come. I checked and its on a Sunday so we can fly in on Saturday and leave Monday?” 

Henry pulled you closer, and pressed a kiss to your neck. “Of course. Now, I think I hear our baby waking up, and if you remember, I have a surprise for you at home.” He said, moving you off of his lap so he can stand up. 

You smiled at him, but stood up and began packing up the trailer while Henry got Lavender ready to go home.

“What is this surprise,” You asked Henry, on the ride home. He glanced over at you, and his hand that rested on your left thigh squeezed tightly. 

“If I told you, it wouldn't be much of a surprise, now would it?” He said, as he pulled into his gated community. You just laughed at him.

He pulled into the garage, and you both hopped out. Henry grabbed Lavender, and you grabbed the bags and let Kal out, who followed his dad and little sister into the house.

When you walked in, Henry had gotten Lavender out, and was giving her lots of hugs and kisses, to which she was giggling and smiling. Henry noticed you were there, his eyes lit up, and he adjusted Lavender so she was sitting comfortably and safely in his right arm. He took your right hand in his left, and began to lead you to the stairs. 

“Time for the surprise my dear.” He said. You smiled and gladly followed.

The three of you stopped outside of one of the spare bedroom doors, and Henry opened it to reveal a beautiful light pink and light grey themed nursery. 

“Oh my gosh, Henry, did you do this?” You whispered, tears in your eyes.

He smiled, and nodded. “I figured she needed a more permanent place to sleep, rather than just a playpen in my room. This is what I did when you fell asleep the first night we all spent here together,” He explained, walking over to the crib, and laid Lavender down. “I ordered all of this stuff, and put it together when you were on set the day after. She loves it already,” He said, motioning to Lavender who was wiggling and making herself comfortable. “She sat with me the whole time I was putting it together,” Henry finished, reminding you of when he offered to watch her for the day when you had to be on set and he didn’t.

You took in the room around you. Henry had left the walls white, as well as the carpet. He had ordered a light grey crib, with a matching dresser and bookcase.  In the corner sat a light grey rocking chair with foot rest, and there was a fluffy rug on the carpet. 

“I was going to paint flowers on the wall, but then realized I can't paint for shit, so I thought maybe your little sister could come and paint them at some point. I also ordered a wooden sign with her name off of Etsy but it won't arrive for a few more weeks,” He said, wrapping an arm your waist. 

“I love it Henry,” You said, and pressed a kiss to his lips. You both glanced over at Lavender who had fallen fast asleep, and then back at each other. Henry grabbed your hand and pulled you across the hallway to his room. As you entered, you realized you were about to continue what you hadn’t the other day, since the both of you ended up falling asleep for the night.

The second the door to Henry’s room shut, he lifted you up in his arms and carried you to the bed. You giggled as he stood in front of you, and lifted his tank top over his head.

“I love that tank top, but I love what’s underneath much more,” You said, which made him chuckle, and kiss you. He pushed you until your head hit the pillows, and climbed on top of you. 

He deepend the kiss, and pressed his full body weight against you. His lips moved from your lips to your jaw, and then down your neck. They came to rest at the top of your t shirt. You suddenly felt very self conscious and gripped his wrist tightly.

He looked you in the eye. “Do you want me to continue?” 

You immediately nodded. “Desperately, I’m just nervous.” 

His eyebrows immediately wrinkled in concern. “Why baby? What’s wrong?” He asked, brushing the hair out of your eyes and gently rubbed his thumb against your jaw. 

You averted your eyes before continuing. “My body isn't the same as it was before I got pregnant. I have stretch marks on my stomach and legs, and I’ve honestly been scared to look down there because she ripped me to fuckin seeds when she came out,” 

Henry chuckled, but pressed a reassuring kiss to your cheeks.

“Baby, I love you, and I will love your body no matter what. You shouldn't be ashamed of what it looks like because it grew and delivered something so beautiful into our lives. And honestly,” He said, looking you deep in the eyes. “Stretch marks turn me on A LOT.” 

You hid your face behind your hands and giggled, but pulled him in for a kiss. 

“Can we have sex now before she wakes up?” You asked.

He smiled, and his hands traveled up from your waist, and under neath your shirt. He moaned into your neck when he felt your smooth skin,  which cause you to run your hands up his hairy chest and moan at the same time he did. 

“Of course, my angel.”

He slid down your body, and kissed every inch of new skin that appeared as he tortuously slowly slid your shirt up.

“H-Henry,” You moaned in pleasure with a hint of annoyance at his slow pace. 

He looked up from your stomach and chucked. 

“Yes, my love?” 

You rolled your eyes at him.

“Stop teasing me,” You said.

He began to kiss your stomach again, at the same pace he had before. “I’m afraid I have no idea what you are talking about,” He said in between kisses.

You were finally tired of the all the teasing, and pulled him up. You made it appear like you were going to kiss him, but surprised him as you curled your leg around his, and flipped him on his back. You climbed on top, and crushed your mouth to his. You immediately felt him  grow harder underneath your hips, and ground you hips onto his.

He sighed into the kiss, and actually pulled your shirt off. He broke the kiss and looked up to your body sitting above him. 

“Looks like my combat training is paying off, my dear,” You said, smirking at him.

He didn't answer though, because his eyes were fixed on your bra. It was a pale green lacy nursing bralette, with clips where the cups met the straps, so you could unhook it. 

He noticed these clips, and his hand slid up to unclip it. Once the front fabric fell away, and your breast was exposed with lace running along the top and bottom for added support, he moaned.

“Th-that’s a cool feature,” He said, unable to tear his eyes off of your breast. “Do all your bra’s do this?”

You snorted. “No, silly. It’s a nursing bra. It allows for better access when I feed Lav.” His eyes snapped up to yours at the mention of her name.

“Don’t say our daughters name when we’re about to have sex,” He groaned, which made you laugh, and kiss him again.

He unhooked the other clip, and once the fabric fell away, he covered both your breasts and squeezed. 

You began grinding your hips again, when you heard him exclaim. 

“W-what?” You asked, before you noticed his hands, which had drops of breastmilk on them. You busted out laughing at the look of horror on his face.

“Henry, baby, it’s breast milk.” Immediately a look of relief came over his face, and he flipped you over. He buried his face in your neck once again.

“Thank god, I thought I hurt you,” He mumbled against your skin. “This isn’t going as smoothly as I had hoped it would.”

You didn't have a chance to laugh at his comment though, because he immediately started grinding his hips into yours. His hands wrapped around your back and he undid your bra, before tossing it on the floor. 

You moaned at the feeling of his facial hair against your skin as he trailed gently kisses down your chest, and to your stomach. He began to kiss every single stretch mark that had appeared on your body during your 9 months of pregnancy, while his hands paid attention to your breasts. 

“You are so beautiful, baby,” He whispered into your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

“H-Henry,” You moaned.

You felt him chuckle against your skin once more, which sent even more shivers down your spine.

“I’ll stop teasing you,” He said, and he slid his hands down your torso to the top of your pants.

“Thank god,” You breathed out, causing Henry to swat you gently on the bum.

You lifted your hips, your eyes not leaving Henry’s face as he slid your pants down your legs, and ended up face to face with your matching panties.

He moaned, and tossed your pants on the floor with the rest of the clothes, before pressing a kiss to your centre. 

“Ahh,” You moaned out, as your hips arched into his face. His arm came up to your waist and pushed your hips right back down.

“Calm, baby.” He said. He sat up on his knees, and hooked his fingers into your panties, gently gliding them down your legs. 

Afraid of what his reaction to your centre would be, you squeezed your eyes shut. That was, until you felt a a tongue gliding up your folds, and a moan pulse into you. 

You opened your eyes and arched your back and moaned at the sight. 

Henry had begun to eat you out, his moans reverberating. His eyes were squeezed shut in pleasure, and his left arm gripping your leg like you would float away from him if he let go.

Your hands flew down into his hair, and he removed his right arm from your waist, and brought his fingers down to circle your entrance, causing you to cry out again.

He removed his mouth for a moment, glancing up at you for consent.

“Do you want me to keep going baby?” He whispered, pure love and lust swimming in his eyes.

You nodded, but Henry protested. “No, baby, I need you to say yes,” He said in a sing song voice.

“Henry William Dalgliesh Cavill, if you stop, I will go all August Walker on your ass.” You groaned out through your clenched teeth.

He chucked, but attached his mouth right to your clit, while he gently slid a finger inside. 

The sensation of his finger moving inside you, coupled with his tongue brushing over your clit, had sent you barreling towards your high.

“H-Henry, please, I need you inside me,” You managed to cry out. He noticed how desperate you were, and immediately removed his mouth and fingers before sliding up your body once again.

As you slid your hands down his body, Henry whispered in your ear. “If we weren’t on such a time crunch, I would eat you out over and over again, and make you come on my tongue until you were begging me to stop.” He then brought your earlobe into his mouth and sucked while you rubbed your hand over his still clothed cock.

You unbuttoned his jeans and slid them down to his knees, before he took over and kicked them off. He then pulled his underwear downwind your mouth dropped open at the sight of him.

“Jesus, Henry, is there any part of you that is regular sized?” You exclaimed, as he rubbed his hand up and down his cock, before spreading your legs again.

“Nope,” is all he could muster, as he rain his head through your folds before slowly pushing inside. 

You both moaned out. Henry dropped his forehead against yours, and looked you in the eyes lovingly.

“You okay?” He whispered. 

You nodded, your eyes tearing up from him finally being inside you after wanting it for so long.

“Perfect. You?” 

“Same,” Henry responded before moving his hips. 

Your hands immediately gripped his shoulders, and bucked your hips up to meet his. 

Henry gradually picked up speed to the point of slamming into you, and had dropped his head to your breasts. You knew what he was hoping for, and you granted his wish.

You brought a hand up to your breast, and squeezed gently, until some breast milk began to trickle out. Henry immediately groaned, and dropped his head to lick it up.

“Fuck, all of you is bloody delicious,” He groaned, as he ground his hips down onto yours.

You just moaned in response, unable to form any coherent words. 

Henry, noticing your state, snaked his right hand in between your legs and began to rub your clit in circles.

“Yeah, come on, baby, cum on my cock,” He groaned out, and your back arched involuntarily.

“I’m so f-fucking close,” You managed to say, before Henry started to rub faster.

“So am I, I wanna see you let go baby. You can do it,” He said.”You’ve done so well, I love you so so much baby,” He dropped his head to your ear. “Cum on my cock like the good girl I know you are.” 

Immediately, you were sent flying over the edge. Your back arched even more somehow, and you couldn't keep quiet. You basically screamed in his ear, but he didn't seem to mind. You drug your nails down his arms, hard enough to leave marks, but not so much to draw blood.

Henry followed you moments later, letting out the most beautiful moan you had ever heard, as he filled you up.

Soon after, Henry pulled out of you, and collapsed on the bed beside you before pulling you onto his chest.

“That-” You said. “Was amazing.” Henry nodded in response. “Best orgasm I’ve ever had.” 

Your head shot up. “Really?!” You exclaimed, but before you could answer, a cry rang out from Lavender’s room.

Henry moved you off his chest before grabbing his underwear from the floor. 

“That’s my cue,” He said, leaving you on the bed in a fit of giggles.

[obeymeluv]

The Bros Visit the Human World

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ 

You bring the bros to the human world for a little get-away and they develop some interesting habits.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Lucifer

He’s the restless one that doesn’t sleep well. It takes a night or two to get comfortable and sleep normally.

Lucifer will probably be the first one up. Not only out of habit, but you’re in the human world so he’ll see the sun again

Being away from Diavolo and the responsibilities actually makes him seem like a stranger. Everyone forgets who he is outside of that because he’s so dedicated.

If you’re around a lot of nature, he’ll just casually stroll around. Almost like he’s forgotten what grass, trees, and flowers look like. He loves to spend time in the sun and just breathe the air.

Have pets? He’s partial to cats and well-behaved dogs.

Surprisingly, he’ll be the type to chase birds off of anything half-wounded or put birds back into their nests

At some point you’ll find him on the roof, wings out and sunning

Take him to livestock stores or somewhere like Tractor Supply Co. and he’ll be super tempted to smuggle a baby chick out in his pocket.

Loathes most human TV. Can’t bring himself to be interested until you bust out bible-history related documentaries. If he finds one he’ll take control of the TV, watch it all, and rip it to pieces.

Kind of develops a complex about it. “What would these humans know?! They’ve only been around for, what, forty years? Try five thousand!”

Take him by the coffee shops or smoothie shops to try decadent treats! He secretly likes them!

Mammon

Sleeps easier than Lucifer but has a tough time because the noises are different

If you have an open field or bigger back yard, his favorite thing to do is stand there and watch birds come to him. It surprises him that he can summon more than crows

Boy will definitely throw on a sunhat (or some cool glasses) and ask you what you feed birds around your place. Stands out in your yard throwing bird seed like the birds are starving and he’s got a million bags.

The type to fight squirrels and chase them out of your yard or away from feeders because “It’s not FOR you!”

If you live somewhere more laid-back he’ll feel very restless. He’s drawn to bigger, busier places.

IMMEDIATELY asks you about restaurants and things to do (”What’cha got? What’s good? Anything fun around here?”)

Gets super frustrated by shows like Storage Wars but it eerily good at appraising the value of stuff at a glance. Often guesses the real value of the objects

Show him Antique Roadshow. He’ll LOSE. HIS. SHIT.

He’ll ask to go by places like pawn shops and jewelers to just look at the different things humans trade or want to save up for. Can probably get discounts on the stuff.

Bring this guy when shopping for jewelry. He has an innate gift for appraising and can see flaws. He knows when you’re being played.

Want to be a little mean? Get those chocolate treasure chest coins and give one to Beel first. Mammon might just have a heart attack.

Definitely goes on a rant about how making chocolate money is wrong. (”Why make a currency you can’t spend?!”)

Make the visit special by getting some type of matching jewelry--earrings, rings, necklaces--and he’ll wear it around.

Take him by pet stores where they’ll let the birds out of cages, he’ll make kissy noises and love on all of them. Will definitely try to smuggle one out.

He’ll spend whole days in parks when he realizes you can park it on a bench and feed birds. Birds that don’t always get food!

Don’t show him water fountains. He doesn’t get the concept of people tossing coins in and will definitely try to take them by posing as a cleaner or something

Taking him by a museum is a 50/50 gamble. He’s genuinely interested in the displays and setup but might try to steal something   

Do you have a way to watch The Road to El Dorado? Show it to Mammon. He’ll love it.

Leviathan

Unless you live by some cute cafes, comic book stores, or video game retailers he probably won’t do much on his visit

Do you have a pool? He changed his mind. Might gripe about the chlorine messing with his skin though.

If you only have access to a community pool he refuses to do anything with it

Take him to the beach if you live near one. He’ll ALWAYS go for ocean water!

Because the Devildom is the Devildom, I bet they don’t have Ghibli movies. Maybe they have knock-offs, or they’re considered rare because they’re human world related, but have a Ghibli marathon with him! He’ll love it! It won’t be Ruri-chan levels of love, but he’ll stan and want to buy some stuff

Can you make boba tea at home or swing by a coffee shop that makes a close substitute? Take him! He’ll like it! Levi may complain about it not being authentic but he’ll secretly appreciate it

He likes savory food and junk food so take him by a dollar store and get some cheap chips and sodas. It’ll be interesting to try. Maybe he can make a Deviltube video about trying human food!

Levi also strikes me as someone who would like nachos, so maybe grab him some nachos!

Do they know about the Doritos and Mountain Dew thing in the Devildom? He might want those. (”Look, I’m like the human gamers!”)

Levi runs a little colder than his brothers (by Devildom standards) so take him around to feel on blankets and maybe get one to take back to the Devildom.

Satan

Has a great love for books (obviously) and a great disdain for Devildom bookstores that charge an arm and a leg for human finds. TAKE HIM BY BOOKSTORES AND LET HIM LIVE IN HIS NATURAL ENVIRONMENT!

The type to bring an extra suitcase just for books

Is actually quite a homebody because he has no connections in the human world (besides you), so he’s fine to sit and read his new finds.

Do you have books at home? What are your favorites? He’ll read them, too, while he’s here

Show him some kind of crime channel or crime YouTuber and he’s 100% obsessed. Binges them like Netflix

Will wave you over and demand you sit, tangling your legs together as you lean back and speculate on who the murder is and what happens since most of those TV episodes are an hour long

Loves anything psychological-based. Wants to understand why people do things and how they work. Show things like Criminal Minds and Mind Games. He’ll be SUPER interested.

Do you have cats? You’ll see Satan whispering them and holding them against his shoulder. He’s in love and might be planning to steal your cat.

Taking him by animal shelters makes him a little sad but he’ll be glad to play with all the cats at one time.

Don’t tell him that, to most humans, Lucifer and Satan are the same figure in the Bible. He just might lose his shit.

Does your town have history/mystery tours? Take him! It’s a two-in-one and he loves it! History and culture, mystery and crime!

Show Satan Cinderella. He’ll get the BIGGEST laugh out of the cat being called Lucifer.

Asmodeus

Like Mammon, will ask you about aesthetic places and things to do

In a rare moment of not hating Mammon, the two will gossip at the jewelry stores and be really critical. Mammon stops Asmo from making bad purchases

Show him around some makeup stores! He’d LOVE to see human products!

If you take him by ANY store with clothes, he will look, pick, feel, analyze, and try things on for the hell of it. It will be an all-day thing

Human fashion takes off more than he expected on the Devilgram, so he’ll buy a few things.

When he realizes makeup stores give free makeovers, he’ll use that to his advantage. Especially by charming people

Goes on a small kick of charming people to get what he wants because Lucifer only ever told him he couldn’t do it to YOU. It’s a new level of fawning and attention and he eats it up

If he sees a cute Starbucks drink on TV, he wants it.

If you show him Pinterest or Instagram, he’s glued to a device and saving things.

By the time everyone goes back to the Devildom he has a tiny notebook full of ideas and details--ways to recreate it in the Devildom

Gets several modeling offers and you (or one of the bros) has to pull him away, It’s not happening.

Unexpectedly into unboxing videos and calligraphy. Lives for pretty hand writing and is fascinated by bullet journaling even though he’s too lazy to maintain one

Show him soap operas/dramas and celebrity entertainment channels. He won’t know what to believe.

If he sees shows like Jerry Springer, Maury, Jeremy Kyle, or Judge Judy he live-streams them like ‘can you believe what crazy things happen in the human world?!’

Beelzebub

The dollar store is his heaven! ALL THIS FOOD FOR A DOLLAR?!

I personally think that human food is less calorically dense so he’ll need to eat a lot. Take him by fast food places that have cheap dollar menus or five dollar deals

If you go to a restaurant with a ‘finish in ‘x’ amount of a minutes and it’s free!’ do it. He’ll set a record

Beel learns about all you can eat buffets and gives you puppy eyes until you take him to one. At least you’ll get your money’s worth!

Don’t take him by a real grocery store. He’ll bankrupt you. Or eat all the free samples.

He’s interested in cooking shows but if he watches them you’ll have to clean up a lot of drool, give him something to eat while he’s watching, or stop him from absently grabbing the closest thing and trying to eat it

Is super into renovation shows and technical shows where people work with their hands. It’s like sports of the mind.

Not as interested in watching American football because he’ll critique it too much. Any other sport, he’ll find it interesting and want to know how it works.

Show him old Olympic footage. He’s surprised at the variety of sports and will watch the whole thing

Will also enjoy Ghibli movies. How do they make food look like that?!

This boy is a Disney princess in a demon body. If he sees any critters while he’s out and about (ANY), he’ll want to try and feed it or pet it

Bugs are drawn to him. He especially likes caterpillars and butterflies.

Beel likes to hunt for ladybugs.

Likes to “donate” to ant hills and watch them work,

Likes to watch nature documentaries about different animals

If you take him to the zoo, he’ll marvel at the different animals. Wants to wrestle a tiger and the bigger animals to see if he’ll win. It looks “fun.”

Belphegor

When he hears about mattress stores, that’s his thing. That’s what he wants you to do together. Belphie will literally lay on as many mattresses as possible and judge them

He may not have a hard time sleeping as long as he has his favorite pillow, but, for kicks, show him ASMR. Beel’s not the only one who drools!

Will definitely fall asleep outside in the sun. Any place is a good place for a nap, and to look up and see clouds is special

Spend a night outside under the human sky. It’s constellations and things he only ever gets to see in the star room

Will watch just about anything on TV. He’ll say he doesn’t have a preference but he likes those happy, soft movies that have gentle endings where everything turns out okay. Actually cries a little.

If he learns what Snorlax is from Pokemon, he’ll want one. A big Snorlax plushy to cuddle and sleep on/with!

If he hears the word “demon” uttered on TV he’s instantly hooked. What stupid thing do these humans think? THAT’S their version of a demon?!

Can you take him to see real cows? He’d really like that.

The type to make flower chains in the grass because he’s bored. Gives his first one to Beel and falls asleep before he can make another one.

Loves milkshakes unironically. Will slink out of bed and come along on any errands/brother outings if he can get one out of you.

[shirtlesssammy]

15x19: Inherit the Earth

We’re down to the end, and guys, I’m not ready. :(

Then:

THEY’RE IN LOVE

Now:

The world is empty.

Sam and Jack wander the empty streets. Dean pulls up in the Impala (still wearing his jacket with Cas’s bloody handprint. BRB CRYING.) Everyone’s gone. Dean tells the others that it’s Chuck that did this. Jack asks the IMPORTANT question: “Where’s Cas?” Dean looks down and hesitates, but eventually says, “He saved me.” He tells them the cliff’s notes version of what happened while shoving down A MILLION feelings of regret and loss and I want to hug him. “Cas is gone,” he finishes, and hahahahahahahahah NOPE. Sam, in disbelief, calls his side-ship Jody. No answer. 

They head to an empty sports bar (AND WHAT I WOULD DO TO GO TO A BAR WITH FRIES AND TVs AND BEER RIGHT NOW). Jack stays outside and prays to Cas. He gets nothing and starts walking. All the flowers start to wilt as he passes them. WHAT IS HAPPENING? 

Sam blames himself and is done. They decide to meet with Chuck.

They tell him that they’ll play his little game. They’ll kill each other. Dean demands that they put everything back to normal first, though. “The people, the birds, Cas.” All of it. (WEEPING.)

Dean, DEAN, Cas doesn’t want to be in a world where you don’t exist. 

Yeah, Chuck doesn’t care. He’s really into the brothers' suffering alone story. “That’s deep, that’s sophisticated, that’s a page turner.” Oh, Chuck, you dumb bastard. 

Cut to the bunker where they’re all suffering on their own. Jack wallows in his room. Sam wanders the halls, and Dean lays passed out on a bottle of liquor in the library. Sam finds Dean in the library, and Jack soon joins them to tell them that he’s sensing another presence in the world. 

They head to a gas station. Dean heads for the bathroom, and hears a whimpering. IT’S A DOG. And Dean’s so happy to have found him. He names the dog Miracle. 

Dean brings the dog out to show Sam. He tells him that Miracle is coming home with them. I AM DYING. Sam is shocked. Dean tells him not to worry because he’ll only let him ride shotgun if Sam is cool with it. Lol. 

Of course, all good things must end. And Miracle dusts like everything else in existence. Dean looks around and sees Chuck giving him a smarmy salute. F U C K  O F F,  C H U C K. Dean doesn’t even like dogs, so there. (The patented Robert Singer ZOOM tells me that Dean does indeed care about dogs.) 

(Sidenote: The dog is Cas, right? Dean’s beyond happy to see it. And is ready to let it sit shotgun, but only if Sam’s okay with it. And he’s REALLY upset that they can’t “save a dog”. Just thinking thoughts.) 

They head to a church. 

Once they’re in the church of very dangerously burning candles, they’re greeted by Michael. 

Michael tells them that he’s been chilling here to avoid Chuck’s notice. Adam is gone. (RIP Winchester brother that never got a chance.) Michael monologs a bit about humans and stuff. Dean recognizes a little soldier when he sees one. Michael wants to help though. 

Back at the bunker, Sam shows him Death’s book on God. Michael tries opening the book with no luck. (Sidenote: The DRAMA of the lights being lower is killing me.) 

*Dean is In Love Alert*

The brothers take a moment alone in the dark kitchen. 

Dean gets a call. 

Dean takes the call and because he’s a precious bean that actually believes what he’s hearing. Cas is at the bunker. He’s outside. He’s hurt. 

Dean takes off like a rocket AND I’M DYING. BBY BOY. NO. 

It’s not Cas. It’s Lucifer. 

UGH. 

(DOUBLE UGH.)

(INFINITY UGH.)

Yeah, Lucifer totally sees what’s between Dean and Cas and gains access to the bunker because of that. Coolcoolcoolcoolcool. 

He tells the brothers that the Empty kicked him out to finish Chuck. He brought a reaper to prove to the brothers that he’s good people (NOT.) 

Betty is bound and gagged. (Because WHY NOT DO THAT TO A WOMAN, Buckleming.) Lucifer then kills her. (Because WHY NOT DO THAT TO A WOMAN, Buckleming.) 

Betty is the new Death! 

(Sorrynotsorry for the lack of pictures. I think we all know why.) 

She asks for the book. If they give it to her, she can read it. 

They set her up in the dungeon reading room, and she doesn’t need helpers. 

Meanwhile, Lucifer is playing cards and there’s ZERO interaction with Jack and him. AND I AM LIVING. Like, it’s 100% clear that Jack isn’t his son and he does not see him as a father. Jack’s father is dead. AND I AM LIVING. (But also sad because Cas is dead.) 

Lucifer does interact with Michael though. Michael does not trust his brother.

Betty pops up with the book and the end of God. Lucifer ashes her with a snap of his fingers. 

(HOW?!>!>?)

Wherps, he grabs the book from her and reveals his hand. He’s working with Chuck.   

Lucifer and MIchael battle it out. Jack watches. Lucifer tries to convince Jack to join the losing team.

Michael stabs Lucifer with an archangel blade. Mercifully, there are no haughty speeches or further peacocking between these two. Lucifer sparks out, gone at last. GOOD RIDDANCE.

Later, Dean has a heart to heart with Michael in the kitchen. Michael’s reeling that Chuck brought Lucifer back from the dead instead of seeking him out. But he’s definitely NOT BITTER, NOPE. 

Dean reveals that Chuck’s book is open and full of mysterious Enochian symbols. Sam’s going to translate those, and figure out how Chuck dies, so they can start knocking down some dominoes!

In the library later, Sam reveals that he’s uncovered a spell to stop Chuck. (Jack was researching nephilim on the computer! Jack bby) When complete, the spell will unleash an “unstoppable force” against Chuck. They head out to a special location, light the spell, and it sends three bright beams of power into the sky.

But the spell explodes. They look up to find Chuck standing there. Chuck...chucks the Winchesters and Jack away. He thanks Michael for tipping him off. “It’s always been my destiny to serve you,” Michael tells him. But that’s not enough for Chuck to forgive him for siding with the Winchesters even once. Chuck fractures Michael into light. The last archangel bites the dust.

He turns his attention to the Winchesters. It’s time to finish them. He’s canceling the show. At the last minute, he decides it’ll be more fun to beat them to death instead of snapping them out of existence. It’s……..YIKES PRETTY BRUTAL TO WATCH. “Just stay down,” he counsels them - practically begs them. But they won’t stop. Broken and bleeding, they hold each other up against him.

Sam laughs at Chuck’s confusion. “You lose,” he tells him. Behind Chuck, the camera pans to Jack. 

Chuck tries to snap Jack dead but his snapper isn’t working.

Jack lays his hands on Chuck and golden power streams from Chuck into Jack. Jack snaps his fingers once, and the Winchesters are healed. As they say in the industry...suck it, Chuck. 

Sam drops Death’s book in front of Chuck, but the pages are blank. Only Death can even SEE anything in the book (making the whole “can’t open book covers” thing into nothing but a drama llama move). The Winchesters came up with a plan B and spout this in a quick exposition dump.

Michael was jealous of Lucifer being “chosen” by Chuck

They made up the story of a spell, so Michael would tell Chuck

Jack’s “bomb” quest turned him into a power vacuum - thus the dying plants

When Michael and Lucifer fought in the bunker, the power exchange charged Jack back to full nephilim strength

Chuck killing Michael and beating on the Winchesters allowed Jack to absorb god-power

“This is why you’re my favorites,” Chuck gasps. He doesn’t know what happens next, but he’s ready to die “at the hands of Sam Winchester. Of Dean Winchester, the ultimate killer.”

And. Babies. Sweeties. I know that there are lots of people who have problems with this episode but THIS! THIS. This next line makes it all worth it. Because Dean tells him, “See, that’s not who I am. That’s not who we are.” He took how Castiel sees him and he planted that damn seed in his own heart and watered it even in the depths of despair and now it’s so mighty a force that he just walks away from their lifelong tormentor. GUYS. I LOVE IT. I’m so emotional right now.

Jack confirms that Chuck won’t get his powers back. “It’s not his power anymore.” And AGAIN I am emotional thinking about fanfiction and fanart and giving this show to us when it’s all done. Ahem. Anyway. Chuck’s gonna grow old and die and be forgotten like every single human. (Ooookay that got a little dark, but I’ll allow it. This is a “to the pain” speech, after all.)

Chuck begs for them not to leave him, reduced to sniveling panic in the Impala’s dust cloud.

The Winchesters head back to a small, empty town. Jack closes his eyes in the sunshine as “Get Together” by the Youngbloods croons across the scenes. People return to the world and it’s gentle and beautiful - everyone returning to their day-to-day. “Come on people now, smile on your brother!” the song implores. 

Love is but a song to sing Fear's the way we die You can make the mountains ring Or make the angels cry Though the bird is on the wing And you may not know why

Come on people now Smile on your brother Everybody get together Try to love one another Right now

And look. I know this is just a song, and this is just a show. But this is my hope for this show and these characters - steeped in darkness for so long. And this is my hope for our actual real world too. It’s hard for me to separate the two so YES I’M CRYING AS I TYPE THIS. May this song lead us into the next episode and destroy me in a fountain of hopeful light.

Erm. anyway. Miracle the dog runs into the scene! It IS a damn miracle! Dean and Sam are so proud of Jack! Jack confirms that Amara is with him and they’re in harmony. I’m so happy that Amara got a happy peaceful forever after with her nougat nephilim grand-nephew. Dean assumes that Jack’s coming back to the bunker with them. He’s top dog, “he can do whatever he wants now.” (And readers, I like that Dean says whatever “he wants” and not whatever the Winchesters want. I think it shows personal growth!)

Jack declines. He’s already home - he’s everywhere and everything. “I’ll be in every drop of falling rain. In every speck of dust that the wind blows. And in the sand, the rocks, and the sea.” Jack doesn’t want to lead people, or be prayed or sacrificed to. He wants to let them discover the truth in their own hearts, in their own time. “Chuck put himself in the story. That was his mistake. But I learned from you and my mother and Castiel that when people have to be their best - they can be. And that’s what to believe in.” I have to say, I was fervently against Jack-as-God until it happened. But just like everything to do with Jack, once it happens I just go...okay, cool. I’m on board!

In the bunker, Dean and Sam drink beer and comment on the quiet. “To everyone that we lost along the way,” Dean toasts. Sam realizes that they can write their own story now. “Just us,” he says (and it sounds like a bleak echo in the empty bunker). Behind them, the table has SW, DW, MW, Jack, and Castiel engraved and...MY HEART.

The Winchesters leave to go find out what freedom feels like and we get a montage of past scenes from the show, and characters we loved or loved to hate. Jackson Browne’s “Running on Empty” plays us off in sweet, mournful nostalgia.

The Winchesters drive into a sepia-tinged world. This episode is like my Thanksgiving plate mid-meal - all mashed together for faster plot consumption. But on a rewatch, there’s a lot to like too! It’s a goodbye to one story...

And we leave nostalgia behind. It’s time for them to figure out their own story and I AM SO EXCITED to see what happens next! (Lays some nougat candy bars on my altar for Andrew Dabb for one last vigil.)

WHERE’S THE QUOTES?

Where’s Cas?

Who’ve thought finding a dog would feel like a miracle? C’mon, Miracle!

What’s an ending?

Eternal suffering sounds good on paper, but as a viewing experience it’s just kinda...meh

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive! 

[brandstifter-sys]

Kiss From A Rose

Word Count: 1469 (Ao3)

Pairing: Dukexiety

Rating: T

Warning: death mention

Hey look a fluffy song fic!

---

Some days the imagination was perfect with temperate weather and long sunsets. Remus' side was so full of wildlife of all shapes and sizes, from bats to dragons to ferrets to spiders. Virgil liked coming to this side, even if he wasn't exactly invited or welcome.

The grey castle sat on a seaside cliff, tall and imposing as it looked out to the ocean and over the kingdom. Virgil was wandering through the thinning forest closer to the base, taking in the cold air and barren trees under the overcast sky. If he were lucky, he would be able to get back to the warmth of his room without running into Remus. If he were really lucky, he would.

He neared the castle, crunching the long-dead leaves under his feet. It was bitter cold and he only had his hoodie for warmth. Virgil really shouldn't have come here and he knew that much. He scolded himself internally for daring to catch a glimpse of the duke. He didn't need to sneak around to see the side he used to call his best friend, but he wanted to see the Remus who wasn't performing. He wanted to see a pure Remus as he was, uncut by outside influence.

Yes, the duke was wild and bold around the others, but as Virge dodged a low-hanging branch, he couldn't help but think of the quiet, warm, loving duke who would rip off his fingers one by one for his friends and creations. He saw Remus playing with a three-headed dog, completely by accident, and he swore he was staring at a different side all together. It ignited some kind of kindling in Virgil's chest and he sought out more of those quiet moments.

The calm version of Remus was addicting, the rest of the time Virgil liked his company, even if he acted otherwise. He could lose himself in thought, picturing the trashman. Virgil did, choosing to focus on the man's variety of smiles that lit up his face and highlighted his cheek bones. He could get mesmerized by those giggles and adorable wiggles.

He didn't realize that he was at the castle door, knocking. He didn't come back from his trip into his thoughts when the gaudy oak door creaked open.

"Millie I told you, stay on Ro's side, I need to let it—Tickle-me Emo?" Remus grunted and stared at him as he shivered slightly.

"Sup?" Virgil winced and wrapped his arms around himself. He stared at Remus with wide eyes as snow gently fluttered to the ground and his hair. Just seeing the duke's face brought him warmth. He was as brilliant as the sun and as eerie as the fog—Virgil was weak to his charm.

"Get your sexy ass in here!"

Virgil gratefully followed Remus inside, passing through the stone hallways. As they neared the sitting room, Remus matched his pace with Virgil and wrapped his arm around the shivering side.

Virgil involuntarily leaned into the touch and drank in the duke's warmth. They entered the sitting room, where a fire was blazing and a cozy couch sat in front of it.

"Of all the days for a surprise visit, you really chose the worst one! It's the only day this month when I have to get snow to my ice dragons!" Remus fretted as he guided Virgil to sit down.

"Oops," Virgil mumbled in response. Remus pouted for a second before plopping down next to him.

"So why were you creeping around my side?" Remus asked with a smirk, "You know you're always welcome here so there's no need to sneak!"

"It's really stupid," Virge sighed, "I just wanted to see you but without your mask, or getting your attention."

"You wanted to see boring me? But that's boring! Why?"

"I like boring you," Virgil admitted, too tired to deny anything, "To me you're like a growing addiction that I can't deny. The you that I sneak around to catch a glimpse of makes me feel better and I crave that boost. Won't you tell me, is it healthy? I don't know if it is at this point."

"No. It's not healthy," Remus pouted, "You know you can tell me anything and everything. If you don't need the wild act you just have to tell me. I would love to have quiet time with you as much as any wacky hijinks. The important part is that it's just you. Because you're you."

"And that's the problem," Virgil said and curled his knees to his chest, "I'm me and that means I'm not gonna actually say anything until I'm backed in a corner. I'm a seed that won't sprout, Remus. I'm always running and hiding and—what are you doing?"

"You're funny, Virge," Remus chuckled and wrapped his arm around him again, "You're the restraint I lack and you make shy look sexy, and when you get to the last straw you get even sexier because you can take a lot before you snap! You're you, a flower that blooms in the ashes, the life after a storm."

Virgil looked at him, taking in the cozy hearth and his warmth pressing against the emo's side. That soft, knowing smile made his doubts and worries melt. Remus was just being honest and that was more than Virgil could ask for in that moment.

"There is so much a man can tell you, so much I can say. I'll keep it short and sweet for you, like a fresh corpse. After all this time, even though you left, you remain the source of my power, my pleasure, and my pain—like the burn from eating a ton of ghost peppers. I can't get enough of you, and maybe I knew you were creeping around here and I was waiting for the moment you cracked and told me that you love me and can't bear to go a day without seeing me."

"Remus—" Virgil breathed and leaned closer.

"I can wait for a long time too! I'm content with the fleeting glances and interactions—like catching a glimpse of a bright rose against the calm before the storm. A gentle kiss of hope that dies when you look away."

"Remus, shut up a sec," Virgil huffed and pressed his lips to the corner of the duke's mouth, "and let me tell you something."

"Listening," Remus gawked, fighting back a goofy, open-mouthed smile. Virgil's eyeshadow was changing to a bright violet.

"I think I'm in love with you. The more I get of you, the stranger it feels. And it's like tiny bats flying in my gut. I can't bear to lose what I have with you but I keep wanting more. And if you're willing to help me, I'm ready to take what I want."

"Is it a bad time to say that I am turned on? Because I am way too happy and my heart boner is spreading to my pants."

"It's a bad time for you to say anything."

"Then can I get a kiss from a rose on the grey? Now that your rose is in bloom, a light hits the gloom on the grey–and a little bit of mouth to mouth might be the only thing to keep me from waxing like a dying poet craving a dead man who still pulls on my heart strings!"

Remus was stunned, pulled down by the sash and into a desperate kiss. He shivered slightly and melted into the motions, wrapping his arms around Virgil and pulling him into his lap. Virgil purred and ran his fingers through Remus' hair, shifting to straddle him. He couldn't fight the rising giddiness in his chest or the way he craved more and more of those lips—or that he needed to breathe.

"Damn," Virgil breathed when they broke apart, "that's my new favorite way to shut you up."

"I've been kissed by a rose on the grey," Remus mumbled and looked into Virgil's eyes, "And if he doesn't kiss me again I am going to wax and rave like some gothic romantic poet about how much I adore him beyond life, beyond death, beyond whatever eternity could offer."

"How about you keep being you and I kiss you when the urge strikes?"

"I won't get through a single quatrain."

"Not at all," Virgil teased and grabbed his chin. Remus wiggled his mustache and placed a hand on his wrist.

"You are the blood in my veins that brings bile to my throat. You are a dream and my nightmare, the kind that I don't want to wake from or miss in my sleep. If I should fall,will it all go away? Will you haunt my waking hours after this, living and deceased?"

"As much as you haunt my blackened soul," Virgil mused before kissing him again.

[plant-flwrs]

Eternal Spring // wolfstar

Chapter One: Calholme

masterlist!

series masterlist!

series summary: Remus was fine being alone until a mysterious and loud man crashes his motorbike into Remus’s life.

a/n: hi!!! i have a series!!! i’ve got a couple of series and chapter stories in my drafts, but i’ve never really had the courage to post them. i have put so much into this story, though, and i really hope you all like it :) leave me some feedback! i’ll probably post more once i know that its not a complete and utter flop. also, i’ve posted it on my ao3 so you can go read it over there too <33 

(1.9k)

It was a drowsy, subdued place, in Remus' opinion, every moment of the year except for spring. Where he grew up, and where he currently resided, the entire town took a green glowing hue for the season. It was cold in the mornings, so when Remus went outside to spread chicken seed on the dewy grass, he put on a sweater. It warmed up as the sun rose, and from the time it took the sun to travel from the horizon to the middle of the sky, Remus was comfortable in a t-shirt and loose-fitting jeans. When the sun was at its peak, Remus might start to sweat through his shirt, maybe going as far as to change into shorts if he was outside, which he usually was. He couldn't stand to be inside during spring.

The gravel driveway that led to a dirt road was sprouting an abundance of weeds and weeds that looked like flowers. The trees captured light, glowing, instead of the way they seemed to absorb and trap light in winter. Remus's backyard was a large forest, and Remus had never taken the time to check where his property line ended, so as far as he was concerned, the entire forest was his. If you went deep enough in any direction, you would come to a clearing where the knee-high grass dove into some grass that only tickled your ankles. After the ankle grass, there was an unnaturally blue and unnaturally large lake. Remus' mom had told him that the lake was so blue and so large because it was natural, that no person could ever make something so beautiful, and Remus found himself agreeing as he got older.

With his mother and father gone to live somewhere where it was spring weather all the time, living on a vast farm with no animals and a huge lawnmower that his father comfortably sat on every weekend to trim the fields, Remus now lived in his slightly renovated childhood home. It was only slightly renovated because it was a great deal messier and almost every surface was covered in coffee or tea stains and a book. Remus also got a television that he rarely used and turned his old bedroom into some sort of reading room/ garden. So, slightly renovated.

Past the gravel driveway littered with weeds and imposter weeds, past the dirt road that served as a crossing and sometimes rest area for the wild animals in the area, was the more populated town. Calholme had two public libraries; three hardware stores, one of which sold exclusively fishing supplies; a psychic who did palm readings and sold handmade jewelry and was rumored to have built the house she did aforementioned things in herself; three gas stations, one on each side of the outskirts of town, and one right in the center; two banks, one of which was relatively new that not many people frequented due to either a lack of trust for banks or simply because it was new; a multitude of fruits and vegetables stands with products grown in the area, delis in which the products ate the grass not 20 miles away, and bakeries that sent a sweet aroma into the air; a record shop that doubled as a coffee shop, candy store, and sometimes a furniture store when the records weren't selling too well; a car repair shop called Matt Mocks's garage that also repaired tractors and other broken farm equipment, and if the right guy was in that day, you could get your television repaired, too; and any other storefront that the simple people of Calholme thought they needed. They were quite resourceful in that sense.

So, down one end of the road was Calholme, and down the other were a few scattered cottages and large farmhouses, and even further down was a paved road that brought Sirius Black into town.

---

Remus had opened the window in his kitchen and stood in front of it as he waited for his tea to steep. It was that wonderfully chilly morning, so he shivered a little as the cold air clipped his crooked nose and sharp chin. He wrapped his long arms around his body to give some sort of comfort but found his lack of sustainable body fat and bony arms were more of a hindrance than not. Sighing and turning away from the window, he retrieved a cardigan that was draped over the couch, shaking off some loose crumbs before putting it on and returning to the window. He passed the sink on the way, a large white ceramic hole in the counter that looked more like a tub than a sink, and filled up a cup of water for the plants on the window sill. The house was in disarray, as usual, but Remus kept his plants alive. Most of the ones on the sill were herbs that he cooked with, with one or two flowers mingled in. If he kept the window open all day during this time of year, butterflies would come to the flowers and find themselves fluttering around the kitchen until they could find the window again. Occasionally, they just make themselves at home.

Window plants watered, arms covered and no longer shivering, tea fully steeped and mixed with the right amount of milk and honey, Remus stood in front of the window again. He could hear his chickens clucking by the other side of the house, and the rustle of the trees, the faint hum of a tractor miles off as people started their day. Then, he heard the roar of a failing engine. Not long after that, he heard the harsh sounds of metal scraping and a yelp of surprise that soon turned into groans of pain.

Remus ran to the door, tripping over his discarded rainboots, then running his shin into a coffee table, then shouldering the wall before falling on his face after tripping on some more shoes. When he finally got to the door, the chickens were louder, and so was the groaning.

His driveway wasn't too long, but it was still long enough and curved enough so that the house couldn't be seen from the road. The gravel crunched under his feet, eyes surveying the weeds, hands warmed by the mug he had forgotten to put down and somehow, miraculously, had not dropped on his way out.

There was a lump that may have been a human body or may have been a Greek god that had fallen down to the earth. Besides this was a discarded and seriously fucked up motorbike. A few feet away was a duffel bag with its contents spilled out onto his driveway. Telling from the skid marks, Remus guessed that this Greek god had lost his footing, or maybe hadn't seen a pothole, and veered into his driveway for somewhat of an easier crash than what would have been in the woods. The marks also told Remus that the driver was coming into town.

"Are you alright?" Remus tried, taking the groans as a sign of life and creeping closer to the body.

"Oh, fuck," they groaned, "fuck, fuck, fuck."

"Do you need help?" Remus knew it was a stupid question, one with the answer right in front of his face, as they began to writhe around the ground and get their wits about them.

Remus moved over to the scattered possessions, setting down his mug and gathering the various items back into the duffel. He ignored the magazine with David Bowie on the cover, ignored the criminally small shirt that had tears in the collar and Remus knew would make the Greek god look even more godlike, ignored the eyeliner pencil, and politely folded things when necessary before putting them away.

"Where the fuck am I?" the body had moved into a sitting position, feet on the ground and legs bent at the knees. There were rips in his black jeans, blood seeping into the denim, and a tattered hole in the sleeve of his leather jacket that also left red dripping onto the gravel. His face wasn't too scuffed, just some road rash on his cheekbone and jaw. Greek god confirmed. Fallen from heaven, straight from Olympius, carved by the hands of Zeus himself.

He was strikingly pale, which made his eyes and hair striking as well. His eyes were a deep blue, blue like Remus' lake, and his black hair was long and cut into a choppy sort of shag with lots of layers. He looked disheveled, obviously, because he was just in an awful motorbike accident, and Remus was staring at him.

"Just outside of Calholme," Remus almost called him 'sir', despite the fact that he hadn't called anyone but his teachers and his father 'sir', and this boy was obviously close to Remus' age. But the boy had a commanding presence, one that made people want to call him 'sir', and tremble with nerves as they did so.

Shuffling a bit, still sat down, he surveyed the damage. No longer groaning nor writhing, he was somehow even more attractive. His brows were furrowed-in pain, concentration, just pure Greek god sternness? Remus could not tell- as he pulled at the new holes in his jeans. He didn't wince, but he did scowl, and his fingertips ran through his blood for a moment before sighing. He twisted to look at his arm, and he winced then, but only because of his beloved jacket.

"Motherfucker," he mumbled, taking care to slip off the arm of the jacket and pinch the torn edges together as if they would magically stitch together.

Remus realized he was still holding the boy's duffel, so he dropped it gently on the gravel between them.

He cast his eyes up to look at Remus for the first time. "Thanks," he said softly, pulling off his entire jacket now.

It was cold, and Remus was wrapped tightly in his cardigan, and this boy was bleeding, his motorbike dented and silent even though he had never taken the keys out of the ignition.

"Can you walk?" Remus asked, surprising himself with the nervous tremble in his voice. Remus didn't talk much during the day, besides to his chickens and the lake and the flowers and the butterflies, and occasionally to the stray cat that would make the long trek from the neighboring properties. This boy was a little different than talking to those things.

He struggled to his feet, easing gently on his knees and not putting his scraped hands on the gravel. He bent his legs, only grimacing a little, and said, "Yeah."

"Do you want to come inside? It's warmer."

The boy craned his neck, looking at the heavily forested area around him, his bike, and Remus. He looked at Remus a little longer than these other things and nodded briskly.

Remus grabbed his mug and turned to walk up the driveway, listening to the crunch of the boy's footsteps behind him. They were strong and sure, despite the trail of blood he was leaving.

"This your house?" The boy said from a few paces behind Remus once they got close enough to see it. He sounded neutral, not apprehensive or suspicious of Remus, but not grateful or relieved. Remus found it a little unnerving, especially with his back to him. He shivered and turned to face him, nodding and opening the front door.

[mommymooze]

A Lesson in Beekeeping

Claude x reader

Warning: bee sex discussed. Honeybees. Bee Stings. The noble worker bee giving up her life for the hive

  Today is a free day. Free from classes and studying and homework. Everyone needs time to themselves to relax and do what interests them. You’re deep in the woods near the monastery, collecting plants, seeds, flowers and mushrooms. Your restful time alone is interrupted as Claude, your house leader, has found you.

“What’s a little girl like you doing out in the dark spooky woods? You better watch out for big bad wolves!” Claude laughs.

“I’m not Lys. This isn’t frightening.  The higher altitude and specific climate divergence varies greatly from what I am accustomed to, as well as the flora has specific diverse qualities that interest me.”

“No need to go all Linhardt on me.” The dark haired male backpedals.

“New place, new plants.” You translate.

“You’re not going to complain about being called little?” Claude elbows you, digging for a reaction.

You roll your eyes. “My stature is undisputed. 95% of the student body is taller than I am. As time passes, the percentage pullulates.”

“So now what am I going to pick on?” Claude shrugs.

“Your pants, most likely, you’re standing amongst cockleburs.” You grin.

Pulling your notebook out, you scribble something on a page, stuffing a few leaves in the book before you return it to your pocket.

The next day, Professor Byleth makes an announcement to the class. “The kitchen is in need of anyone who is familiar with collecting honey or bees.” She continues to read the note and frowns. “Honeybuns no longer available in the kitchen.” She looks panicked.

Dorothea, recently recruited into the house raises her hand. “Ferdinand is much like a bee, send him!”

You raise your hand. “I will assist.” You do not mind missing the afternoon class for weapons training and maintenance, since you are a mage, it does not interest you.

“I’ll give it a shot.” Claude throws his hat into the ring.

“You guys are creepy, wanting to play with bugs.” Lysithia snipes.

Class ends and everyone heads out for lunch. Byleth thanks you and Claude for saving the honey buns.

You finish lunch quickly and head to the back entrance of the Kitchens. Martha greets you and hands you a few buckets and sharp knives. They don’t really have the beekeeping equipment, the keeper left suddenly due to his mother becoming ill.

“Looks like we’re going to have to improvise.” You groan.

“To be honest, I’ve never done this before. Always willing to learn something new though.” Claude confesses.

You frown at him. “You’re just curious because their stings contain poison.”

Claude looks away.

You run over to the Golden Deer lunch table. “Professor, we’re going to need assistance gathering equipment together. I’m going to leave the buckets and knives here, if anyone can add to it bring it here. Dorothea, do you have any stiff wide brimmed hats? I need 2. Leonie, can you bring some scissors, needles, thread and thick twine string or cord. Going to need about 3-4 meters. Does anyone have any thick extra leather gloves? Especially if you don’t want them back because they are going to get messy. A pair for me and a pair for Claude. We also need 2 white long sleeved shirts. Ignatz, if you have a spare that would be wonderful. Need one for Claude too unless he has one.”

You run off to the marketplace to find some dark black diamond netting with the smallest holes you could find. Back at the dining hall the Deer have done the deed and all needed items are acquired.

You create a beekeepers veil from the hat, stitching the netting around the brim of each hat. Wearing the long sleeved shirt you put the hat on, then tie the hat itself on with it’s ribbons so it won’t fall off when you bend over. Then you tie the string over the veil around your neck so that the string goes under the collar of the shirt. Putting on the gloves, you stuff the cuffs inside then wrap the open end of the gloves shut with gauze, pinning then tying it with more string.  At the bottom of your pants you tie them around your ankles keeping them close over your socks. You take extra string and wrap them around bundles of semi dry weeds you pilfered from the compost pile.

You are ready for the battle of the bees.

“How do you know all this?” Claude asks as you head out around the walls of the monastery. The bees are located around the back by the fruit trees.

“Grew up a farmer. Brothers wrangled the larger animals. I was stuck with smaller ones. Chickens, ducks, geese, rabbits and bees. Need bees to pollenate fruit trees.”

“An expert on the birds and bees. Got it!” Claude grins.

“Have you ever been stung by a honeybee?” You ask him.

“Dunno. I’ve been stung by all kinds of bees. Black ones, yellow and black, black and white.” He shrugs.

“Claude! Just like every four legged animal is not just a horse, every flying insect is not necessarily a bee!!” You chastise him. “Honeybees are mostly non-threatening unless you are invading their home or disturb them while they gather nectar.” You stop at a nearby flowering bush. “This bush has all sorts of insects on it.” You take the sharp knife and point at a few different ones identifying them. Bluebottle fly, paper wasp, hornet, sweat bee, carpenter bee, bumblebee and finally honey bee.

“Most of the stinging insects have a sharp, smooth, pointy stinger, like Felix’s sword. The honeybee has a barb at the end of its stinger. Think of Byleth’s fishhook. The smooth stingers, can sting multiple times each putting a little poison in. Honeybees, when they sting, their barb gets stuck in your skin, and it rips off their stinger. When the stinger rips out, the poison sac comes along with it. The bee then dies, they are literally giving their life protecting their homes. Never use your fingers to grab the stinger to remove it, you are squeezing more poison into you. Scrape it off with the blade of the knife.”

“Good to know.” The archer nods.

“We are headed out to work on the bees. As soon as you notice you have been stung, we move away and make sure it won’t kill you. If it itches or swells a little, that’s normal. If you swell up to 10 times your normal size and stop breathing, you’re allergic.” You warn.

“Understood.” The Deer’s leaderman nods.

  At the middle of the orchards are several different tables and boxes.  You put the knife and bucket on the table. Inside of the boxes, with the front completely open, are what look like upside down baskets. They have a small hole in front that the bees are going in and out of at a fast rate.

“First we need smoke.” You instruct, taking out a bundle of semi dry weeds, lighting the ends with fire magic until most of the ends catch fire, then you blow the fire out. The weeds give off lots of smoke.

You tell Claude to wait by the table. You quickly go in front of a hive and lift it, pulling it out of the boxlike shelf and placing it on the table. You lift the hive pulling it to the edge of the table and let the smoke go into the hive for 30 seconds or so.

“Smoke gives the bees something to do besides chase you. When bees smell smoke, they think there is a fire in the hive. That means they have to grab what they can and get ready to leave. The bees are filling their stomachs as fast as they can and will fly off when the heat is too much.  Another benefit of this is the bees will have a full stomach and are less likely to sting you. The bee has to curl its body to the front of it to sting you, like bending itself into a letter C. That is much harder to do when its gut is full, less likely to sting.”

You look underneath again There are several rows of beeswax combs hanging down with bees crawling all over them many bees face first into cells eating. You squat down low so you can look up into the hive. The white beeswax comb on the outside looks like it is empty, the next section of comb looks like it has some nectar or honey in it, and the one after that looks like it is fat with honey that has been covered over by the bees.

“Ok. This is a skep, we try to get bees to build their hives in them. It is thick rope that is bound together in sort of a bell or upside down pot shape. The bees start at the top and attach wax to the top, then create these combs. The combs are built hexagonal cells on each side at the tiniest bit of an angle, facing up in a wide V shape. That is so they can put nectar in it and fill it almost half way. Once the nectar is in, other bees will evaporate the water from the nectar by fanning their wings. Once enough water is evaporated, it turns the nectar to honey. Once it is the right thickness they fill the cell up completely, then bees cover it with wax to preserve it. Then we steal it.”

You stick the knife between the ropes of the skep. You cut through the beeswax at the top and sides of the third comb from the left until it comes loose in your hands. Gently, so gently, you pull it out from the hive. It has some bees on it, but most of them stay inside the hive.

“Honeycomb is made from wax that the bees shed off their bodies. They chew it until soft and build these perfectly symmetrical 6 sided cells. Notice the bottom of the cells on this side matches with where 3 cells come together on the other side. Makes it super strong. This honey is heavy, at least 15 pounds on this one chunk alone. We only want to take honey, and the honey should be covered by wax.”

You tilt the comb to the right and some liquid runs out of a few cells.

“Too watery. Bees didn’t cover it and won’t until it evaporates more. Whatever spills the bees will collect and put into their hive again.”

There is about 16 centimeters of comb at the bottom where there is nectar not covered or just empty. You cut this from the rest of the honeycomb, placing the capped comb in the bucket.

You take the part that is cut off and hold it to the light.

“Sometimes you can see eggs in the bottom of the combs that do not have nectar in them, those are bees of the future. I am not wasting this. I’m going to melt the wax at the cut and put it back where I took the other part out.

Squatting under the hive, you summon magical flames, melting all along the cut edge of the wax and nectar, sticking it into the space you took the top of it from. Holding it up there you wait a bit for the wax to cool and it sticks. You leave the next couple combs alone, looking at the opposite side. You don’t want to disturb the queen or babies. The bees keep their spare honey to the sides of the nest where the queen is laying eggs. You decide to cut another chunk out. Gently taking it out you bring it to the table. There is capped honey about half way down. Then the honey stops and there is different colored darker stuff in the combs.

“The top is capped honey. Bees make it to feed the babies and feed themselves, especially in winter. Next they gather pollen. They even sort it keeping the types of pollen together. Grass, clover, ash, oak, maple, sunflower, if it has pollen bees take it. Heavy protein in pollen. They sort honey too. You’ll see all kinds of colors. Really light colored honey in the spring. Darker honey in the fall. Anyway, cells lower than that is where the queen lays the eggs. When the eggs hatch they look like larvae, you know, the stuff Teach fishes with. The bees feed the larvae honey and pollen. It grows and fills the cell. Once it is big enough it spins a cocoon, the adult bees cover them with wax. They pupate and turn into adult bees, chewing their way out and going to work in the hive.

You continue working as you harvest more honeycomb and try not to destroy any of the hard work of the bees by putting what comb you can back inside the skeps.

“I gotta know. Tell me about bee sex. Everyone talks about the birds and the bees.” Claude grins.

“There are 3 castes of bees. The queen. The worker. The drone. There is one queen in a hive. She is the only female that mates. She mates for maybe 7-10 days of her life, maybe 12 to 16 times. Spends the rest of her life laying eggs. Her body is the longest/biggest in the hive, her abdomen is quite large, swollen with eggs. It sticks out much farther than her wings. Next are the female workers. That accounts for 90% more or less of the population. They gather the nectar, bring it back, put it in the cells, dehydrate it, make wax, build cells, protect the hive, guard the hive, get rid of the dead, feed the queen, clean the queen, pollenate the flowers, collect the pollen and 100 other jobs. If there is work to be done they do it. They have the stingers that sting to protect the hive. Queens have stingers too, but theirs are smooth. They fight other queens, nothing else. That is why there is only one.“

“We can’t’ forget the drones, the males. They have no stinger. They do no work. They contribute nothing to the hive except for the queens genes. They don’t pollenate. Their only purpose is to go out and find a virgin or recently virgin queen to mate with. They mate while flying in the air. The drones hang out in an area looking for their lady love. Their eyes make up 80% or more of their head, go almost all the way around it. Once they see a queen, they fly after her. She flies high and fast and whoever catches her first gets her. He sticks his male part into her female part. Upon his entry, his part breaks off, and he falls to his death. She goes out again for more. Bees don’t mate with their relatives, each has their own smell. So they spread their genes around. “

“Gah!” Claude slaps his arm. “They got me!”

“Get over there by the wall and sit down!” You order him, quickly finishing what you were doing, then rushing to Claude’s side, away from the bees you take off your hat and veil putting your ear to his chest to listen. His heart sounds pretty normal. Breathing sounds good

“Where is the sting?” You’re looking him over.  

He points to his right upper arm.

“How are you feeling?” You’re watching the spot where he was stung, checking his fingers, his eyes, listening to his breathing.

“Talk to me for a bit. Just talk about anything. If your tongue swells up, that’s a bad sign. Talk so I know you’re okay.” You unbutton his shirt and pull it down over his shoulder to where the sting is.

“Gah! Just mention bee sex and you’re all over me!” He laughs.

The bee must have snuck inside his shirt, got into a small hole somewhere. His arm looks okay, the stinger is still in his arm and his skin is red around the stinger, the spot is about as big as a gold coin and slightly puffed up. Pulling a dagger out of your pocket, you scrape along his arm, flicking the stinger out.

All the while Claude keeps talking, counting trees in rows. Asking if you would be taking his pants off if he was stung in the leg…

“How are you feeling now?” You ask. “And that is why your pants legs are tied at the ankles. To keep them out.”

“Doing fine.” He grins. “The sting hurts a little less now. Not sweaty, not a real good poison. Mostly localized.

You put your ear to his chest again, checking on his breathing and heart rate.

“So how many stings before they really get to you?” The master tactician asks, his mind always working.

“If you are allergic 1, if you  are sensitive maybe 20? If you work with them all of the time? Well I had over 75 in a single day and it just made me a bit nauseous.” You say as you help him put his shirt back together. “Want to do more or call it quits? I don’t want to do this when it starts to get dark.”

You both agree to play it safe. Marking the hives that were harvested, you head to the kitchen dropping off the buckets of honey. There’s a few bees hanging out with the honey comb, but the kitchen can deal with them.

Heading back to the hives you finish cleaning up.

“So what did you bring to put bees in?” You ask.

“What?” Claude feigns innocence.

“Don’t be all innocent with me. You want some of their poison.” You grin. “Give it to me. I’ll get some in it and then show you how to get your poison. Oh, remember, male bees have no stingers right? I think we should prank Lorenz. It’ll give him a heart attack.”

Claude laughs heartily, “And here I thought you were nothing but a bookworm with no sense of humor.”

“I can have fun too!” You whine.

“Great, just come by my room any night you want to discuss more about the birds and the bees, eh?” He grins.

“Now you’re sounding like Sylvain.” You groan.

“Oooh, that was a major insult. I am wounded.” Claude laughs.

                                              ***********************

Yes. I am a beekeeper. I love my bees. I could watch them work for hours. The smell of a beehive on a warm summers day is amazing. 

[cherryrogers]

when dusk falls {1}

WHEN IT RAINS, IT POURS

pairing: bucky barnes x reader | royal au

warnings: mentions of war, death, rape + forced marriage. pure angst tbh.

summary: One fateful afternoon, your blissful life as the beloved princess of Taria comes to a sudden halt.

a/n: ok so i am very excited for this fic. more excited than i’ve ever been to write a fic ever, i really hope you guys like it !! it’ll likely be a slow burn, and i’m gonna try so hard to do weekly updates (unheard of from me i know !!) anyway please enjoy and any feedback is appreciated !!

series masterlist

The Kingdom of Taria was said to be the most beautiful place on the planet. A verdant location, rich with greenery from north to south. Known as the planet’s garden, visitors would travel for days overseas simply to inhale the fresh scent of the crisp air upon arriving within Taria’s borders. The civilians were lovely, always smiling and willing to offer tours of the gardens and markets. And the monarchs — the most loved the world had ever seen. They lived in a fabulous palace in the centre of the green land, one of the oldest buildings to exist in Taria. The palace front garden was free for anyone to roam, a place where the King and Queen could be seen waving from their balcony, broad smiles covering their lips.

And the Princess; she was the kingdom’s gem.

Adored by the people of Taria and those of allied kingdoms, you made it your mission to be less of a princess to your people, and more of a friend. You played with the children in the palace garden on sunny afternoons, went to tea with the women who sold baked goods at the markets, helped their sons with schoolwork when you had time to spare — there wasn’t a single name you could put to a face. You felt so free, so lucky to be engaged with the people that made Taria as wonderful as it was. You didn’t even need personal guards, not when there wasn’t a soul in the kingdom that wanted to hurt a hair on your head.

The life you were so grateful to live, that you cherished so close to your heart — it was terrifying how easily it was stripped from you. How easily Hydra ripped you away from the golden dream that it was.

You’d been hiding in your library, laid out on a plush beige couch, the skirt of your royal blue dress spilling over the edge, flipping through the pages of a thick, hardback mystery novel. It’d been gifted to you by Sharon, your lady-in-waiting and best friend before that. She’d left you alone in the library momentarily while running to bring you both a steaming cup of chamomile tea; an essential when reading, she’d insisted. If you weren’t so caught up in your book, perhaps you would’ve noticed Sharon had been gone for nearly ten minutes. It was only when the sound of commotion erupted from behind the large doors of the library that your eyes finally flickered up, and when they did, your friend was suddenly bursting through the doors, a frightened expression on her face.

“Sharon, what’s wrong?” You’d slipped your bookmark between the pages of your novel before placing it at your feet.

The blonde rushed towards you, taking your hand and tugging you up from the couch. “We must go.”

Your face contorted in confusion, but Sharon didn’t care to explain as she snatched you away from the centre of the grand room, making a beeline to the back door of the room that led into your personal garden. Her hand was tight like a vice around your wrist, pressing your bracelets uncomfortably into your skin.

“What was with the yelling outside?” You questioned breathlessly, struggling to keep up with her pace as she pushed open the glass garden doors. “And why— my gosh, why are we running?”

Winding through the plethora of brilliantly coloured roses and tulips, you shrieked as you closely avoided tripping over your own feet, bare and aching from the gravel of the pavement between the square plots of flowers sticking to your soles. Everything was happening so fast, even the colours of the garden were blending together as you tried to figure out what could’ve been going on.

Sharon’s hand fleetingly let go of your wrist as you steadied yourself, and before she could clasp it back in her grip, you ripped it out of her reach.

She narrowed her eyes. “_____, we don’t have time—”

“Tell me what’s going on.” You folded your arms over your chest, the waver in your voice telling Sharon that you needed to know then and there, your nerves beginning to build more with each passing second.

The woman was about to object, but since you weren’t aware of the gravity of the situation, she decided telling you may have been a better option — whatever got you away from the palace the as soon as possible. Sighing quickly, she held your upper arms in urgency. “It’s Hydra, they’re here. Here for you.”

In that moment, you swore your heart had never dropped so low in your stomach. “For me? What— What do they want with me?”

“I don’t know; as soon as I heard your name, I ran to find you. They’re searching the palace for you right now, _____, we need to get to the stables and leave before they find you.”

She took your hand in hers, ready to make a run for it, but you didn’t budge. Mouth hung open in shock, you were paralysed on the spot.

The Kingdom of Hydra was a dark place. Plagued with freezing temperatures and harsh blizzards, the majority kept far away from it. The effects of a long dictatorship had set in over the decades, making it the complete opposite of Taria. King Alexander called all the shots, passed laws that benefited him, denied laws that benefited the public. Crime was at an all time high; women raped every day, markets trashed and robbed, murders around every corner — the King didn’t bat an eye. Nobody did. The only reason people stayed was because they had to. It was against the law to migrate unless the circumstances were exceptional, but realistically they’d never be severe enough for the King to lose tax money over.

Attempts at rebellions had spiked over the years, usually only consisting of not even one hundred civilians wanting to fight the system. The King’s father, who occupied the throne before him, was killed by a rebel when the castle was attacked by hundreds of men wielding pitchforks. Once Alexander became king, he threatened that any civilian who dared to rebel against the monarchy would be sentenced to death without question. While there were still quieter rebel forces waiting for their moment to strike, most were ultimately too fearful to take physical action, and they were right in feeling so.

Hydra was a brutal place; living there was a life sentence that you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy. But it seemed like soon, you’d be serving that miserable time yourself.

Only when you felt a warm hand press to your cheek did you snap out of your fear, glossy eyes meeting the deep brown ones of your friend. “You’ll be okay. I’m going to get you to safety, but I can only do that if we leave now.”

Forcing your fear down with a painful gulp, you nodded hurriedly. The blonde’s lips curled slightly in reassurance, before she took your hand eagerly and headed straight for the tall, cream garden gate leading out to the stables.

She quickly explained the route you’d take; travel west through the Goldwater village, borrow a rowboat from the docks, and sail over the Emerald Sea to the Swari Island; a small but resourceful community not ruled over by a monarchy, but had offered hospitality to the royals of Taria if they ever needed it. They’d know who you were when you arrived there, and because it was such an independent island, Hydra likely didn’t even know it existed. If they did, they probably would’ve attacked and taken over the place a long time ago.

The plan sounded hopeful, and your nerves had actually began to simmer once you were close enough to the gate for Sharon to shift the heavy metal lock. But when a worried voice called out from behind you, her movement was paused, the lock only being half pulled.

Steven — your father’s valet — stood tall in the doorway to the library, golden locks and beard seeming even lighter with the sun beaming down onto him. But the look on his face was anything but light; thick brows pinched and lips curled into a frown, he waved for the two of you to return.

“There are soldiers behind that gate,” He called. “You can’t reach the stables.”

You turned to Sharon with a fearful expression; she kept a tight hold on your hand, letting go of the gate to respond to Steve. She remained calm, but at the foiling of her plan, her demeanour had visibly changed. “Then what are we to do? I won’t let Hydra take her, Steve.”

His face fell even further, a hand coming to clutch at the sword on his hip as he jogged towards the two of you. Blue eyes set on you, he spoke with sorrow. “I’m afraid that they’re not going to leave without you, Princess.”

Your friend scoffed, shooting the valet a glare. “And why is that?”

Steve didn’t reply, an apologetic glint in his eyes as they stayed on you. You held his eye contact, shaking your head in disbelief. What did he mean they weren’t leaving without you? It wasn’t like Steve to give up so easily, especially when it came to your safety. He had a duty to your father, to ensure your protection before his at all costs. But Hydra didn’t care for duties and loyalty — they didn’t care for compromise. What they wanted, they got. And they wanted you.

“Steven, what do they want with _____?” Sharon asked again, this time more aggressive with her tone, but her hard exterior was beginning to crumble.

Like you, she knew Steve to be confident, determined. He’d been like that even at the age of thirteen when she’d befriended him — the scrawny blond boy that didn’t have the patience to read books or plant seeds in the back garden like the other kids she neighboured with, instead always running around on the dirt roads using long, pointy sticks as swords to battle with an imaginary opponent.

Originally from the war-torn Kingdom of Lidor, she migrated with her aunt after her parents were caught in the centre of a Hydra attack on their village. Sharon was staying at her Aunt Peggy’s for the weekend when it happened, and as soon as it did, Peggy wasn’t risking her young niece being killed along with her brother and sister-in-law if they dared attack again, which was likely inevitable.

That was the scary thing about Hydra; they had the absolute power to ruin everything in their wake.

Sharon met you when she was sixteen; she was wandering the beautiful palace garden with her aunt when you’d approached the two of them, introducing yourself with a kind smile. It was the first time they’d been near the palace, their new village being in a more remote area of Taria, and preferring to keep to themselves while recovering from the tragedy back home. You ended up clicking with her straight away, easily being drawn to her fiery attitude and quick wit. As you got closer, you became her shoulder to cry on when she’d opened up about her parents and her life during the war at home, learning that Lidor was fighting on their own against the powerful forces of Hydra, and had been three years — Hydra had a certain way of keeping their harmful affairs quiet.

Later that week, you informed your father of her kingdom’s situation, and after a discussion with Taria’s knights and the leaders of your allies, cavalries upon cavalries shipped out to Lidor to rid the place of Hydra’s men. The war came to an end months later, and you’ll never forget the relief and joy on Sharon’s face once you’d let her know that her home could soon begin to recover.

She’d also spoken of needing a job, and after a short conversation with your parents, they approved of her being able to fill the spot of your lady-in-waiting. Sharon was hesitant to take the role, as it meant leaving her old aunt to live alone in their home miles away from the palace, but you assured her she could visit Peggy whenever she wanted, and that the role wasn’t so much a servant job — more like a professional best friend.

Steve, then eighteen, was introduced to you when you ventured out to meet Sharon’s aunt at her home. Unlike him in his childhood, he’d grown incredibly tall and broad, large biceps and muscular thighs easily filling out his clothing. Purely kindness and charisma, Steve seemed like a man your father would’ve adored. One day, you brought the two of them down to the palace for dinner in the evening. Steve was obviously out of his comfort zone; he’d never once imagined he’d ever come to be around so many royals. Like you’d guessed, he had your father clutching his stomach with laughter, and he’d deeply admired the blond’s courageous spirit when he’d expressed his desire for a job where he could protect people who needed it.

At the end of the night, the King pulled him aside and told him that if he was interested in being his valet, the job was unmistakably his. Of course, Steve accepted it without question. You’d always remember the first time he held a real sword; it was like witnessing a child during a sugar rush.

Since that day, both Sharon and Steven had never been too far away, always around to keep you company. It was a good change to have good friends living in such close proximity. Your life had never been better, safer.

And now, in their presence, you’d never felt more afraid.

Before Sharon could force an answer out of the valet, a raspy, smug voice sounding from where Steve had been stood only moments ago in the library doorway caught the attention of the three of you.

Tilting your head to look past Steve, your jaw tightened at the sight of a dark-haired man, dressed in dark clothes and scruffy boots — a clear juxtaposition among the vibrant garden. Upon his lips, a too-satisfied smirk, and on the left metal shoulder piece shielding his thin tunic, the image of a skull with tentacles coming from the mouth clear as day — the symbol of Hydra.

“I must say, Princess, you have a wonderful palace here.” He patronised, stepping into the garden gesturing to the enormous building behind him.

It was then you noticed the four soldiers that’d followed him out, expressions completely vacant, staring straight ahead as if they hadn’t just infiltrated the royal palace. Their uniform was similar to brocks, except the skull symbol was replaced by a large red star.

Steve pushed you behind him protectively; your grip remained tight on your friend’s hand. “You have no business coming to Taria without speaking the King first. This wasn’t part of the agreement.”

Agreement? Hydra had no business in Taria at all; none that you knew of, anyway.

The man shrugged carelessly. “The King wants the Princess in Hydra now; circumstances have changed.”

“Circumstances have changed how?” Steve challenged, glowering at him.

Frustration bubbled in your chest. You didn’t understand what Hydra wanted with you, and you definitely weren’t aware that there was an agreement between Taria and Hydra. Your kingdom vowed a long time ago never to make deals with the devil, the devil being a kingdom ruined by dictatorship and power-hungry men.

Sharon uttered your name cautiously as you removed your hand from hers, stepping forward to lower Steve’s raised arm, no longer shielded from the man who’d seemingly been sent to collect you.

“Tell me what’s going on,” You spoke up confidently, shoving down the anxiety threatening to appear in your voice. “What agreement do you speak of?”

The man’s sick smile widened upon hearing your voice. Looking over his shoulder, he gave a nod to one of the docile soldiers who left his side on his signal, before turning back to you. “I could tell you, Princess — but I think it’s better that you hear it from the King and Queen.”

Your eyes widened; behind the man, you watched as four soldiers escorted your parents into the garden. They appeared tired, as if they’d put up a fight. Wouldn’t any loving parent to keep their child safe? Of course, Hydra had likely brought enough infantry to keep control of the situation. Your knights were strong, but scarce compared to the large army Hydra had built over the years.

“Go on,” The man coaxed, stepping off to the side so that you were eyeing your parents directly. “Ask them.”

Biting your lower lip, you pushed back the confused and angry tears threatening to spill down your cheeks. “Father, Mother — what’s going on?”

A stray tear trickled down your mother’s face, her eyes never leaving the ground. She was petrified. Exhaling deeply, your father took her hand gently, before shooting you an apologetic look. “This was never meant to happen, _____. I was going to renegotiate the agreement…”

His pleads to show himself in a better light fell flat, futile — everyone knew that you were leaving with Hydra one way or another. You brought your brows together, silently asking him to just tell you the truth. Another heavy sigh, and he came clean.

“One day, when your mother was pregnant with you, her and I rented a sailboat from the east docks. We used to sail along the Heartlen Ocean all the time when we were young; she was due to give birth in two weeks, and since she’d be palace-bound upon your birth, I decided that one more sail before the big day wouldn’t hurt.”

Typically, most who chose to go sailing took boats from the west docks to travel the Emerald Sea. They were easier to access, less remote than the east docks hidden by the thick woodland separating them from Taria’s centre. But if you recalled correctly, that’s why your parents were so fond of the Heartlen Ocean — it was quiet, the whole ocean was theirs to sail freely.

“We’d been out for an hour or two, ignoring our compass and the sky growing dark. We had no idea how far out from Taria we were. Your mother suggested that we head back, but… but before we could, she went into—”

“Can we speed this up, Your Highness?” The insufferable man snarked, earning himself a piercing glare from your father, but he obeyed nonetheless.

His eyes landed back on yours, filling with regret once more. “She went into labour on the boat. We were so far out that going back to Taria wasn’t an option. So, we sailed to the nearest land we could find, which turned out to be Hydra. We had no choice but to ask for their help, and— and they gave it to us, but with a cost. The King, he refused to help your mother unless we made a deal, that deal being that if she gave birth to a baby girl… she was to marry his newborn son once he‘d turned twenty-one.”

You could have fainted on the spot. Steve offered his arm to you, which you took quickly, holding on as if the ground was turning to quicksand. If that meant the ground would’ve swallowed you up and been your escape from the nightmare-come-true that was happening before you, you wished the ground were quicksand.

Tears yet again glazing your eyes, you shook your head. “I— I don’t know what to say.”

Meekly, your mother lifted her head, broken eyes meeting yours almost painfully. “We had no choice, my dear.”

I know. You wanted to say it, but the words refused to leave the tip of your tongue. A sob stuck uncomfortably in your throat, but you couldn’t cry. You couldn’t let your guard down; not in front of Hydra.

Not in front of the people who held your mother’s life in their greedy hands, only agreeing to save it if they could benefit from doing so. You refused to show them an ounce of your vulnerability.

Still wearing that ugly grin, the man who seemed to be leading the Hydra soldiers brought himself back between you and your parents, and you couldn’t help but glower at him. “Well, I believe congratulations are in order. Princess, you’re getting married.”

“You’re sick.” Steve spat, but the man just snickered.

“Soldiers, prepare the carriage for our departure,” He called over his shoulder, and the expressionless soldiers obeyed, marching past you to unlock the garden gate, revealing another dozen soldiers right outside. “Oh, how rude of me, I haven’t even introduced myself.”

He reached for your hand, but Steve was quick to bat it away, drawing his sword from his hip with a stern stare. But by doing so, the soldiers stood at the gate followed suit, ready to lunge at the valet if his sword moved any closer to their leader. With great reluctance, your friend put his weapon away, and the man reached for your hand yet again.

His hands were rough, and you couldn’t hide your grimace at the dirt he’d failed to wash from them. Moving agonisingly slow, he brought your silk-soft hand to his lips. “I’m Brock; we’re going to be seeing a lot more of each other once you settle in Hydra.”

You could’ve thrown up, right then and there. He was enjoying it, seeing you and your family miserable. Once the public heard of the sudden news, they’d be terrified. If the King of Hydra could so easily take their Princess away from Taria, what was stopping them from trying to take Taria for themselves completely?

Brock chuckled as you tugged your hand from his grasp. “I hope you’re a little friendlier to your husband-to-be; I know that Prince Isaac is very eager to meet you.”

Husband. It was still almost impossible to process. A deal to save your mother’s life — and your own — made twenty years prior meant that your freedom was to be completely stripped from you. It didn’t matter how they’d treat you in Hydra; they’d be taking you against your will, forcing you to marry a man you’d never met, and if he was anything like his father, you would’ve rather been as far away from him as possible.

Of course, you could’ve refused to leave. But when you were surrounded by soldiers, ready to comply to any instruction Brock gave them, you didn’t want to think about the consequences of doing so.

You’d like to have thought Taria had moved on from such traditional norms of a kingdom ruled over by a monarchy. Money was provided to civilians that needed it — not only to survive — but to live a stable life, the richer inhabitants of the Kingdom were taxed more and didn’t complain; everyone had a chance of a good life in Taria. Your family certainly made sure of that, and not many other kingdoms had come to follow in your footsteps of upholding a fairer society.

However, the rules concerning the marriage of the King and Queen’s children had been the same since a monarch first took to the throne in Taria, and everywhere else too. And you didn’t mind that; you trusted that your parents wouldn’t force you into marriage with a man you were certain about. They’d definitely never have you marry Prince Isaac of Hydra if they had a say in the matter. But the deal was made a long time ago, and Hydra had a knack for never forgetting what they’re owed. It’d be illegal for you parents to go back on the agreement, and again, you didn’t want to think about the consequences of that happening.

“The carriage is ready, Commander.” A soldier announced from behind you, voice as monotonous as you’d imagined it to sound. His words still sent a shiver down your spine.

“I— I need to collect my things.” You stated to Brock, who waved you off.

“There’s no need; everything you could possibly need will be given to you at the castle, Princess.”

So you weren’t even allowed to bring your own clothes, or books, or anything to remind you that you’d never truly belong to Hydra. Of course they’d want to strip you of your identity; they wanted you on strings, dancing around for them as if you were a puppet. In their clothes, reading their books between the walls of their castle, perhaps it’d be enough to transform you into one.

You sighed, clenching at the skirt of your dress in annoyance. “May I at least say goodbye to my family?”

Brock seemed sceptical, but figured that perhaps you’d let down your front a little if he granted you what you’d asked. “You have two minutes, then we must leave immediately.”

As soon as he stepped out of your way to begin gathering his soldiers, you made a beeline to your parents, ignoring the gravelly pavement against your sore feet. Pulling the two of them into a loving hug, you didn’t care to suppress your tears that time.

“I’m so sorry, dear,” Your father mumbled in your ear, his tone dripping with regret. “The palace guards tried to stop them from entering, but there were just too many soldiers. And the knights weren’t aware—”

You pulled away, offering him a forgiving smile. “It’s not your fault, Father. Neither of you are to blame.”

Tearful eyes landed on your mother next, who could barely lift her gaze from the ground. “Mother, please listen to me.”

She glanced up as you addressed her directly, her frown deepening. “If you hadn’t accepted the deal, neither of us would’ve lived to see how beautiful Taria has become over the past twenty years. Living this life and having it taken away from me… it’s better than never having lived it at all, I swear.”

“The arrival of this day has plagued my nightmares ever since you were born,” The woman choked out a sob, immediately taking your hands in her trembling ones. “Don’t let Hydra take away the good in your heart, my dearest. And— And don’t lose hope.”

You gave her a nod of assurance, before stepping back from the two of them, afraid that you’d turn into a sobbing mess if you spoke to them any longer. “Thank you, for everything.”

As the two leaned into each other, your parents plastered on smiles of appreciation, of love, and you made sure to keep that image fresh in your mind forever. If that were the last you were to see of them, then you refused to let the memory get away.

Turning around, you couldn’t help but chuckle sadly at your friends, watching you with such fallen expressions; they’d never appeared so down. Around each other, the three of you never shared a dull moment. If you were to leave Taria to marry in the future, it was meant to be far less melancholic. Unfortunately, not everything can work out in everyone’s favour; destiny seemed to really not want to work out in yours.

Approaching Steve first, you quickly wrapped your arms around his neck, a sense of temporary relief filling you as his big arms enveloped your waist. He was a brother to you; it felt like you’d known him your whole life rather than a mere few years. He held you tight, almost afraid that you’d disappear into thin air if he loosened his grip in the slightest.

“I wanted to tell you...” He muttered softly in your ear. As the King’s valet and his most trusted confidant, Steve was told of the matter only a year prior. The King knew that Hydra would come knocking soon enough, and he believed that Steve deserved to know the truth, him being so close to his daughter and all.

“You couldn’t,” You responded, voice muffled by his shoulder. “I understand that.”

“Taria wouldn’t be the place it is without you; I guess I just thought that… nobody could ever take you away from here, no matter how hard they tried.”

Stepping back, you moved your hands to his shoulders, giving them an assuring squeeze. “Hydra will never be a home to me, Steven. Nobody could ever truly take me from here.”

His lips curled at that, though it didn’t seem to raise his spirits; it’d be impossible to. The worst case scenario had become a reality — Taria’s Princess in the clutches of Hydra.

Leaning forwards, you pressed a short kiss to his cheek, a token of your gratitude for the valet and one of your best friends. “Take care of yourself, Steve.”

“And you, _____.”

You grinned; it wasn’t often that he addressed you by your first name. He’d become so accustomed to calling you by your title around the palace that it slipped his tongue naturally, despite your pleas to address you as his friend, not his princess.

The moment your eyes fell to Sharon, she pulled you straight into her arms, almost knocking the wind out of you. She’d never been much of a hugger; even on her birthday each year she’d cringe when you and Steve would attack her with hugs and affection. But with the possibility playing on her mind that she may never get to be in her best friend’s presence again, she was happy to keep you as close as possible during the little time you had left there.

“Sharon—”

“There has to be a way to stop this,” The blonde shook her head against your shoulder. “It’s not— this can't be legal.”

A sigh left your lips as you pulled back, trailing your hands to her upper arms. “Somehow, it’s perfectly legal. Even if there was a way to prevent me from leaving, I doubt that the outcome would be any better than this.”

If marrying the heir to Hydra’s throne meant that the rest of Taria was left untouched, you’d leave your Kingdom without a second thought. Their King was not a man of reason; broken deals were always followed with brutal consequences.

Sharon knew that; Lidor happened to be on the receiving end of those consequences when the war broke out on her homeland. The Kingdom was meant to surrender themselves to Hydra’s rule when the previous king was in charge. But when he died and his son took to the throne in turn, he refused to let Lidor fall under such an appallingly cruel government. And following that refusal, Lidor was practically demolished.

If it weren’t for the help they received from Taria and their allies, the place would no longer have been inhabitable. It’d been rebuilding itself slowly over the past few years, and Sharon would’ve hated to see the same tragic thing happen to Taria.

But then again, look at what the cost was. You, trapped in the walls of Hydra’s Castle that’d seen more affliction and agony than your parents had ever even heard of — she couldn’t just let it happen. She was going to fight for you, as your lady-in-waiting and best friend.

Wiping at her eyes furiously, Sharon shook her head again, simply refusing to let you go so easily. “This isn’t goodbye, _____.”

“Sharon—”

“You’re always the one telling me to look on the bright side, to never stop looking for light at the end of the tunnel,” She spoke sincerely. “The war on Lidor had torn me up for years; without you, I have no idea where I’d be, but I certainly wouldn’t be happy. Now it’s my turn to get you through this.”

You furrowed your brows, uncertain of what she’d meant, but then she uttered something lowly, not wanting anyone else to listen in.

“I know someone in Hydra — they work for King Alexander personally. If I write to you, they’ll get the letters to you.”

Scoffing breathlessly, you narrowed your eyes at her. “Are you insane? Do you know how much trouble you could get into? And who do you know in—”

“Hydra is awaiting your arrival, Princess.” Brock’s teasing tone sounded next to the garden gate, and you assumed that meant your two minutes was up.

It was really happening. You were really being stolen away to Hydra, like a mere object.

Sharon took your face in her hands for just a moment, savouring her last few seconds with you before the smug idiot behind her snatched you away. “I love you, okay? We all do.”

“I love you all too.” You shot her half a smile, glancing up at Steve, who was already looking back at you, and taking a look over your shoulder to eye your parents once more.

Sure, Taria was aesthetically gorgeous, but it was the wonderful people who occupied it that made it a profoundly beautiful place.

The longing expression on your face soon faded when your eyes diverted to Brock, and announced that you were ready to leave. He offered you his arm; you ignored the gesture.

His cavalry were set to depart, already mounted on their dark-haired horses, shining manes blowing gently in the slight breeze. The carriage was rather small, only made to escort two people at a time, and the thought alone of being stuck so close to Brock for as long as it took to simply arrive at east docks made your stomach turn.

Sharon and Steve followed you out next to the stables, watching as the carriage pulled away with their beloved friend inside of it.

Steve naively waited for the nightmare to end, to wake up in his chambers and know that you were sleeping safely in yours. Sharon’s jaw was tight, already contemplating ways to guide you back to where you rightfully belonged.

The taller of the two finally tore his eyes from the carriage, now long gone down the dirt road heading east. He pressed his lips into a thin line, already sensing the frustration boiling in his friend’s blood. “Sharon—”

“You knew,” She intervened bitterly, crossing her arms over her chest as her narrowed eyes snapped up to Steve’s. “You knew that Hydra would come for her and you didn’t even tell me — didn’t even tell her.”

The blond’s lips parted to respond, yet we knew that there were no words he could possibly come up with to make the situation any lighter. “I know you’re hurting, so am I—”

“We’re not the ones being forced to start a new life in Hydra, Steve. _____’s the one that’s hurting. I just... I just think that she deserved to know.”

With that, the woman turned back abruptly, making a swift exit back through the garden gate. The valet remained in his place, a hand absentmindedly going to rest on the hilt of his sword as he observed the carriage morphing into a black dot on the horizon.

And for the first time in his life, overlooking the green land and breathing in the fresh air of the Kingdom he’d come to call home, he felt that Taria didn’t seem so beautiful.

[clickbaitcas]

my mollins for the follower celebration!!! congrats grace!!

AHH I finished one! This took me so long slfks sorry! I don’t really know,, yea. Anyway, hope y’all enjoy!! (also I didn’t mean to write it in second person but.... things happen)

“Right this way, folks,” the tour guide announced before opening the door. 

As you passed, you noticed the words on it were rather unusual. Things like “blow seeds to make your wish” and “glam tanks” and “coin tossing” were written on it, and there was a round porthole at the top. Your friend made you take this tour, “You need a distraction, Tori,” and you weren’t entirely sure what they got you into. You finally looked around the room you were in. It was beautiful. It felt like you were outside, there were giant dandelions, grass, trees and flowers. The air smelled sweet and fresh and there was a gentle breeze that warmed your face and toyed with your hair. In the center of this room was a fountain, but you hadn’t seen anything like it before. It was ornately carved with dandelion seeds and four leaf clovers and ornate swirls. It had three tiers, and at the top water spewed out in a beautiful arc that went straight down to the next level. 

There were soft exclamations of “wow” and ooing and ahing as the rest of your group fanned out into the room. Some people marveled at the size of the dandelions and you heard one guy chattering about how this one particular flower was only found in like, Timbuktu, or something. Most people made their way to the fountain, following the tour guide. He was dressed sharply with a white short-sleeved button down and plaid pants you wished you would be able to pull off as well as he did. He had a few papers in his hands, presumably some notes on what to say or where to go next. 

“This is the wishing fountain,” he stated, looking like he’d done this a billion times before and at this point the novelty of it had worn off. “Drop a penny in the fountain, or make a wish on one of the dandelions, and it is said that all your dreams will come true.” 

You thought it was worth a shot, so you dug a penny out of your wallet before thinking of something to wish for. As you stood there thinking the tour guide walked up to you. 

“What are you gonna wish for?” he asked. 

“I’m not sure yet. First I’m trying to decide whether or not the fountain actually grants wishes.”

At that he leaned in close, whispering in your ear, “Can I tell you a secret?” When you nodded he went on. “I’ve worked here for years, and everyone’s wish comes true by the end of the tour. Now, I don’t believe in magic or anything but, there is something special about this place.” He gestured to the room around them. “It’s probably my favorite room in the whole building, just because of the atmosphere. I don’t know how they make it seem so real.”

“Have you made a wish in the fountain?” You inquired.

“Me? Oh no, employees aren’t allowed to.”

“Why not?”

He shrugged, “House rules, I guess.”

“Well, if you could, what would you wish for?”

He looked a little taken aback. “No one’s asked me that before.”

“Well, I’m sure you thought about it. C’mon, I need ideas here,” you teased.

“I would wish-” he paused before leaning in and whispering in your ear again. “I would wish-” 

He got cut off by the sound of a buzzer. Clearing his throat he leaned away from you and raised his voice so everyone could hear him, “Alright folks, that sound means another group is on its way. We’ve got to get to our next stop on the tour.” Amidst the sounds of groans from everyone who didn’t want to leave he gave you an apologetic look. You shrugged and stuck the penny back in your pocket, you didn’t know what you’d wish for anyway, and joined the people following the tour guide out of the room. He stayed at the door to make sure everyone left, while the rest of the people gathered in the rotunda the door led out from. 

The rest of the tour was slightly boring, until you got to the last room. You couldn’t say what was in the room, but suddenly it was filled with gasps as people received notifications on their phones and cries of “that’s exactly what I wished for in the fountain room!” You glanced over at the tour guide, and he looked back at you. You weren’t sure what the look he gave you meant so you look around at all these people getting their wishes. It was pretty awesome to see, although you were disappointed that you didn’t get a change to make a wish. 

“Another time,” you told yourself as you made your way towards the door. 

You were stopped by a hand on your elbow. You turned around to see the tour guide was the one who caught you. 

“Sorry you didn’t get to make a wish…” he let go of your elbow quickly and shoved his hands in his pockets. 

“Oh, you know, it’s fine. I can always take the tour again,” you try to seem positive but you’re not entirely sure it’s working because he gives you a sympathetic look. 

All of a sudden his eyes light up and he leans in close once again, “Come back tonight after hours, I’ll take you to the fountain.”

You were about to protest but he disappeared and you were pushed out the door by the crowd.

You looked around anxiously. It was weird to be here at night, everything so quiet. Your arms crossed over your body and you tapped your foot. Your breathing was too loud. 

The sound of a door opening broke the silence and you turned, ready to make up an excuse as to why you were here after hours, but it was just your tour guide. He beckoned for you to come in and you took one more glance around before scurrying through the door. The man put a finger to his lips and waved his arm for you to follow him. 

When you were finally in the room again, you both breathed a sigh of relief. It was dark but you could see well enough by the light of… the moon? 

“It’s even more gorgeous at night,” you breathed. 

“I’m Misha, by the way,” Misha held his hand out for you to shake. “Figured I’d introduce myself since we’re breaking the rules together.”

You chuckled and took his hand, “Victoria, Tori.” 

“Well, Tori, do you know what you’re gonna wish for?”

You just nodded and gave him a small smile. 

He took your hand and led you down to the center of the room, to the fountain. You both stood in silence for a moment, just admiring the beauty of it. Then, you reached into your pocket and grabbed the penny you had left there earlier that day. Closing your eyes, you whispered the wish, just loud enough for the penny to hear before you pulled your arm back and tossed it into the fountain. 

You opened one eye and then the other, looking around to see if anything had changed. Things looked… the same. Misha was standing a little ways away, watching you with a soft smile on his face. You made eye contact but quickly looked away. 

“What’d you wish for?” he asked with a smirk, walking closer to you. 

“If I tell you, it won’t come true, c’mon dude you work in a… wish factory, you should know this.” 

He leaned in close once again, “You do know that’s a lie, right?” 

“What?”

“Yeah. It’s a lie made up by the wish industry.”

You laughed a little, “You’re joking, right?”

He just shrugged and nodded his head towards the direction of the door. “Here, we have to finish the tour so that you’ll get your wish.”

You took his offered hand and he led you through the rest of the factory until you got to that last room. You both stood there in silence for a little, facing each other. Looking up at him, you noticed how pretty his eyes are. They’re an intense blue that you can see clearly even though the room was pretty dark. You suddenly noticed how close the two of you were standing, but you didn’t mind. He reached out to take your hands in his.

“I think I know what you wished for,” he said softly. “And I think you’ve been wishing for it for a while.” 

You blinked. “How did you-”

“When you work here as long as I have, you begin to predict what things people wish for. Money, fame, love, those are the most common. You walked in looking so lonely, I had to help you.”

“Oh,” you breathed. He wasn’t magic, he was just… intuitive.

“How long?” 

You looked down and he rested his forehead against yours, giving you a bit of strength. You weren’t sure why you were trusting him, but there was just something about him that made you feel safe. 

“Six months,” was your response. Six months since your heart was ripped out of your chest and squashed like a big, pulsating grape. Six months since you’d felt anything like how you felt with Misha, a man you literally just met. 

“That’s too long for someone like you.” 

He let go of one of your hands and used it to push your chin up so that you were looking at him again. 

“You deserve so much better, Tori.” 

The way he said your name made it sound so beautiful. You leaned up just a little and- 

You woke up and stretched before making your way downstairs. The smell of pancakes filled your nose and as you entered the kitchen you saw your beautiful husband at the stove. He had one of your daughter’s aprons tied around his waist, and she was sitting next to him on the counter, spooning the batter into the pan. 

“Goodmorning, honey,” he said without turning around. “Maison and I are just making some flapjacks for breakfast.”

“They’re blueberry!” your daughter said excitedly. 

“Maison made the batter.”

“Well, they smell delicious guys,” you said, kissing the top of your daughter’s head and your husband’s cheek. “Should I go wake up West?”

“Nah, let him sleep in a bit, he’ll get up when he gets up.” 

You sat down at the kitchen table and smiled. You don’t know how your life turned out so great, but it was everything you could have wished for.

[tripleaxeldiaz]

all was golden when the day met the night

chapter 1/5

for @hearteyesforbuck (it’s for EVERYONE but definitely for eli)

read on ao3

Eddie’s bad at words. 

He can talk, of course, will happily go on for hours about how great Christopher’s latest art project is, can give a sermon about the Rangers’ chances of winning the World Series. But when it comes to discussing what’s happening in his brain, the gloomy, sticky parts that follow him around and keep him awake, he clams up. Keeps them locked in because it’s easier than exposing to anyone just how gross it all is, how dark everything is, how dark he is. He wants to talk about things, he does. Wants to make sure Chris knows that he should talk about his feelings, especially the bad ones. And he does his best to be open with him as well, but he’s the only one he seems to be able to do that with. Anyone else — his parents, Abuela, Shannon — he just...can’t. He’d rather save them the trouble.

Eddie’s bad at words, but he’s good at flowers.

He partially blames Abuela for making him spend hours with her in her garden when he was a kid. She taught him different planting methods, how to cut the flowers so they stayed alive longer, and a few basic meanings she learned from Good Housekeeping. After his first tour, they didn’t have the money for him to even try and get into med school, so he got a job at a local flower shop to help with their landscaping team. The owner, Mrs. Negrelli, saw he was better with the roses than the mulch and took him under her wing, teaching him everything she knew. When she retired shortly after Shannon left, she handed him a check with a lot of zeros and said, “It’s time to go plant your own seeds.”

So he did. The Greenhouse has been up and running for just over a year, and it may very well be the best year Eddie’s had in a long time. They’re in a small plaza just outside of LA proper, with an apartment above the shop that makes early morning deliveries much less horrible. Chris is doing great in school (“very popular and excellent in all subject areas”, according to his homeroom teacher) and he’s made some good friends with the other local business owners. It’s the peaceful, quiet life he always dreamed of having when he finally got out of the Army.

Peaceful except for—

“Morning, Diazes!”

“Dad! Buck’s here!”

Eddie pokes his head through the doorway from the back room in time to see his son crash into his friend’s legs, Buck scooping him up and throwing him over his shoulder. Chris laughs loudly, echoing through the whole shop, and starts talking animatedly about his latest drawing when Buck sets him on the counter. He listens intently, throwing a wink towards Eddie when he catches him lingering a few feet away.

As usual, Eddie has to school his face into something other than heart eyes as he watches the two chat. Buck’s in his standard uniform of ripped black jeans that hug his thighs in all the right places and a t-shirt featuring some grungy rock band he’s never heard of. He’s a stark contrast against the rows of hyacinths and magnolias currently on the wall, and Eddie feels a blush rise on his cheeks as he tries (and fails) to stop staring.

When he first met Buck, he was pretty sure he was getting robbed. When a six foot whatever stranger in all black and combat boots and covered in tattoos comes barreling into your newly opened flower shop, that’s kind of the first place your mind goes. He had 9 and 1 dialed on his phone before the stranger ran up to the counter and frantically asked, “What kind of flowers can I buy to apologize to my very intimidating adoptive mother for sideswiping her brand new car?”

Eddie figured an actual criminal would have bigger problems to worry about than his mom’s Nissan.

They formally met the next day, when Buck came to thank him for the bouquet (a small arrangement of broom for humility and common rue for regret; all the yellow tended to make people happier and more likely to forgive you for being a dumbass). He told Eddie he could come by the shop anytime for a tattoo, on the house.

He’d been in Armageddon Tattoo when he was first looking for a space, had met Maddie, the co-owner, and Chimney, their head artist. If he had known the other co-owner looked like Buck, he would have signed the lease much faster. Faster still once he saw how quickly and easily he and Chris got along.

A year on and Buck’s in the shop almost every day, either to buy a bouquet or to give Chris tips on a drawing or to complain about an annoying customer who changed their mind about a design after it was halfway done.

For all the peace that Eddie’s found, Buck is the one chaotic spot that keeps his reflexes in check. He’s a microburst, a runaway firework, an ATV rolling through a field of wildflowers. He blasts his music as he drives in in the mornings, and he opens doors so hard they almost fall off their hinges.

Eddie is painfully, unbearably in love with him.

Which is funny, really, because his whole life, Eddie has always been “the good guy” or “the good son” or “the good soldier”. He was homecoming king, set multiple records on courses in Basic, and became Staff Sergeant quicker than any of his superiors had seen in years. He was always by the book, always tried to be the best, and he usually was the best. 

Until he wasn’t. Until his brain was so full of sadness and horrors that it was a battle to get out of bed each day. Until he was missing so much of Chris’s life that he might as well not have been in his life at all.

Until he wasn’t enough.

His marriage crumbled from there. He knew any path he and Shannon tried to take to move forward would be foggy with the guilt of all he hadn’t done in the past to help their family, so when she left, he didn’t go after her. And that guilt — knowing that he could have fixed it if he tried, if he had just been better — follows him wherever he goes now. He second guesses himself with Chris all the time because he knows one wrong move will lead to whispers among the PTA moms about the single dad who isn’t doing it right. He almost withdrew his lease application for the shop four times because he was constantly worried that it wouldn’t work, that he’d invest all this money and time and effort and it wouldn’t matter. He had done things by the book for so long because that was supposed to be how he succeeded. But now the books are empty and he’s in free fall, hoping he finds a soft landing before splatting on the asphalt.

When he met Buck, the complete antithesis to doing anything “by the book”, a voice whispered in his head that’s your landing. He’s the opposite of everything Eddie knew how to be, and that was thrilling to see. Freeing. To see someone living a happy life by making their own way and not giving a shit what anyone else thought. Not to mention that he was gorgeous, a gentle soul armored in chains and ink, and so unabashedly himself that he drew everyone to him like a magnet.

So Eddie fell, hard but quietly. Because on top of all that, Buck is the best friend he’s made since moving to LA, and he’ll be damned if he screws that up for himself or for Chris.

He finally gets himself moving to the counter, pulled by that damn magnet, where Buck is now showing Chris his latest tattoo — a small skull with a string of roses weaving in and out of the eye sockets and mouth on his right bicep.

“Does it mean anything?” Chris asks, running a small finger over it, taking in the detail.

“Chim says so, went on and on about how it symbolizes life after death and blah blah blah. I just thought it looked cool.”

“Peach blossoms would have been better.” Eddie mutters absently, eyes glued to Buck’s arm and the pale skin under the ink. He blinks as his words register, meeting Buck’s eyes and internally wincing. Thankfully, Buck just looks amused, not mad. “They’re a sign of longevity and immortality in some Eastern cultures. Would’ve fit the life after death idea a little better.”

“See, this is why I need you and your flower wisdom on retainer at the shop. You’d save me a lot of time researching, and our stuff would be even cooler because it would make sense.” He leans down to stage-whisper to Chris. “Between you and me, I think roses are the only flowers Chim knows how to do anyway.” Chris giggles, and Eddie huffs out a laugh too. 

“Any real flowers today, Buck?” Eddie asks. He grabs the craft paper, already knowing the answer.

“Of course! Whatever feels right to you.”

Buck gets a bouquet for the shop about once a week, claims they’re good for inspiration and help some of the more nervous clients relax among the black leather chairs and tattoo guns. Sometimes he has very specific requests (“I just want orange. Like so much orange you could die.” or “Someone asked for tulips on their arm, can I get those in every color so I can practice?”), other times he tells Eddie to put together “whatever feels right”. At first, Eddie never put too much thought into those, just used whatever he was running low on and still looked okay together. But one day, one particularly dark day, when all Eddie was doing was feeling, he took Buck’s words to heart. It was a pretty morbid bouquet — cyprus for despair, peonies for the anger that never seemed to leave him, vervain as a plea to whoever was listening to protect him from the evils of his own mind. His internal mess must have been written all over his face too, because when he handed the flowers to Buck, he just looked at him for a while, like he could feel the sadness that Eddie had physically given him, like he knew the weight of what he was holding, even though Eddie knew he didn’t really. When he said thank you, it was more sincere than usual, laced with something like empathy that Eddie wasn’t ready to look at too closely.

Buck kept those flowers alive for three weeks, said he just couldn’t bear to let them go.

Luckily for everyone, Eddie is in a much less terrible place this week. With his son’s laughter still floating in his mind, he puts together crocuses and daisies, youthful joy and innocence, and ties them together with a dark blue ribbon, Chris’s favorite color. He wraps them in paper and hands them to Buck, who beams as he helps Chris down from the counter.

“Oh, these are beautiful. Almost as beautiful as the man who arranged them.” Eddie feels his cheeks get red and sees Buck’s smile turn smug. “How much do I owe for this masterpiece?”

“Please, you haven’t paid for anything here in months.” Eddie stopped charging while he was only using almost bad flowers, and told Buck as much. He just didn’t tell him when he started using the good stuff.

“I know, but I’m a gentleman, I always have to try. Remember that when you’re older, buddy.”

“I will.” Chris replies. “Dad, we’re gonna be late for school.”

“Okay okay, go grab your backpack.” Chris heads towards the back room as Buck heads towards the front door.

“Well, I’m off to stab people with needles for fun. See you later, boys! Bye Hen!”

Eddie whips his head around and sure enough, there’s Hen, leaning on the far side of the counter, looking far too smug for Eddie’s liking.

“When did you get here?”

“My shift started 20 minutes ago, boss. Glad I got here in time for the show.”

“The show?”

“Yeah, the show. You really should get an Oscar or something for how hard you act like you’re not head over heels for that man.”

Eddie’s jaw drops and Hen cackles. He doesn’t even have time to explain himself before Chris returns with his backpack and starts shoving Eddie towards the door.

“Don’t worry,” Hen calls as she opens the register for the day, “at least you’re cute when you blush!”

Eddie pointedly ignores Chris’s questioning look as he drives, his face and neck still blazing.

He can only hope Buck is less perceptive than Hen. If not, they’re going to have to move cities. Maybe countries. Maybe to the moon.

[fandom-collective-writers]

Reader x Nobunaga Oda {IkeSen} - Public Claim

Title: Public Claim Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku Character: Nobunaga Oda Genre: wink Warnings: ;) Kinks: public sex, internal cumshot, banter, promise of future sex, possessiveness Intended Gender Audience: Female Audience  Word Count: 2000 words POV: second person Written by: @mythiica​ Other comments: kinky

Nobunaga insists on leaving the castle for a few hours just to explore for a bit. Stretch our legs, he so casually jokes, alluding to the long night of heated activities the two of you participated in. You, with muscles sore like never before, leap at the opportunity to look for new fabrics and spend a wonderful afternoon with your lover. 

          He smiles and extends his hand, pulling you up from the futon. His other and goes to the small of your back to support you gently. There is a tenderness to his touch that makes you melt once more, just as you had hours earlier. 

         “Do you think I will find new prints to make a new kimono?” you glance over at the dress you had been wearing, but it lies in a torn pile at the corner of the room. “Maybe I’ll try to save this one…” 

         “Are you sad I ripped it?” 

         “Only a bit. I did urge you to take it off as soon as possible.” 

         Nobunaga fetches a new outfit for you and helps you tie the obi in the front. “True…” Once a knot is securely tied, he brushes your hair back and kisses the purple flower on your skin. “I’ll try to be more gentle next time, alright?” 

         “You said that last week, and look where we are now,” you muse, covering your cheeks to hide your blush. 

         Ushering you outside, Nobunaga laces his fingers with you. “Are we really going to play this game? I-said and you-said?” 

         You bat your eyelashes at Nobunaga with a bright grin. “Well. You did say it. I’m just reminding you!” 

         The warlord rolls his tongue over his bottom lip and tucks a hand under your legs, lifting you into the air. “I also remember saying I’d find a pleasurable way to quiet you if you misbehaved. Shall we return to our room, or continue out?” 

         Even though you try to squirm out of his grip, Nobunaga holds on tightly and keeps you from falling. “Mercy! Alright… you’ve won. We’ll go look around and return in time for dinner.” 

         He sets you down and offers you a swift kiss before leading you towards the stables to fetch your horses. The ride to the main market is short, especially considering you try to race him there. Nobunaga wins (as he usually does) but acts like a gentleman and offers you a hand in dismounting the horse. 

         After strolling through the rows of shops, you naturally migrate towards the fabrics on display. The bright colors attract you, and you run your hand over the silken material, looking for patterns that speak to you. If you could, you would get a few yards of each design, but you don’t have the room to store it all. 

         You pass from stall to stall and finally settle on a bright red embroidered fabric that would make for a wonderful kimono. Furthermore, considering that his birthday would be arriving soon, you purchase enough to make an elaborate outfit for him. There would be enough from scraps to make a matching haori for yourself, so you make sure to hide the print in a small bag. 

         Nobunaga is taking shots with a vassal in one of the bars down the road, and you are not surprised to find him also eating fresh konpeito. 

         “Look!” He holds up his glass to show you a few dissolved candies at the bottom of his cup. “What a brilliant idea, to soak the konpeito in the alcohol, we must try this when we get home. Do you think Masamune has tried this before?”

         “We can surely ask when we return. It is getting late though, shall we go?” 

         Nobunaga finishes his drink before leaving a few gold coins on the table. It is more than enough to cover his tab, but he smiles happily at the owner of the tavern and wishes him a good day. Benevolent Nobunaga always makes you happy, so you extend your hand and lead him through the tables to the street. 

         He stumbles over the edge of his clothes, and your hand accidentally dips into a hole through the back of his obi. It tickles, and Nobunaga lets out a rough laugh. “We’re in public, you know,” he whispers, drawing close to you. His breath is hot and heavy from the liquor, and you make the mistake of teasing him back.

         “It’s not my fault you have a hole back here!” 

         “Surely it’s a hole you made when oh clawed at my clothes last night, begging me to take you…” Nobunaga hooks his finger in the knot of your own obi and pulls you into an alleyway. Your body is flush against his and he takes the bag from your hands, letting it drop on top of a crate. “You were so wonderful last night, I shouldn’t have let us leave…” 

         The next moment, you feel his lips against your neck, tracing the bruises he left, and you let out a small yelp. No one is around to say anything, but you press your hand to his chest. “You want to do this here? Now?!” 

         Nobunaga’s hands are already up your skirt, and that should be enough of an answer. It isn’t the first time he’s gotten greedy in public before, but considering the night the two of you just had, you thought Nobunaga would want to take some time to recover. Or was this all a ploy to enjoy you outside? 

         Growling back, you nip Nobunaga’s jaw and rest your leg at his side. “Nobunaga Oda, you thought about this the moment we woke up this morning, didn’t you?” 

         “So I’ve been found out,” he admits, raising his hands innocently. “Do you mind?” 

         Your panties are already around your ankles, so even if you did, it would be too late to go back on your words now. “No, but you’ll have to be quiet if you don’t want to be found out by your friends inside the bar.” 

         Nobunaga tosses his head back and chuckles at your comment. “I should be saying the same to you, no? Or did you lose your voice last night…?” His fingers slip through the slit in your kimono, and he pushes it back enough to reveal your thighs. He does the same to his own clothes, but spins you around to push you flush to the wall. 

         The boxes to your left and right provide enough cover that you don’t have to worry about being caught, but it is exhilarating none the less. Nobunaga has a flair for doing things out of the norm, and you rather like that he’s caught you off guard with this. Wetness is already pooling between your legs, and when Nobunaga wedges his knee there to grind against you, he smirks joyfully. 

         “We’ll be fast, then return in time for dinner, just like you said, no?” 

         “Shut up and do it already, don’t start with your antics and tease me now.” 

         But he continues and brushes his fingers over the swell of your breast, still clad with silk. “I’m just reminding you.”

         You cup his face and kiss the smirk off of his lips. The harder you grind against his leg, the more pronounced the bulge against his kimono grows. Matching his speed, you pull back the fabric enough to expose Nobunaga’s length, but you do not see it for long before he enters you. A low hiss escapes your throat, so Nobuanga keeps his forearms pressed against the wall to keep you hidden. 

         “If you’re going to remind me about anything,” you mewl as he starts thrusting, “remind me of your promise last night. How you said you wouldn’t let anyone else see me like this!” 

         “Are you trying to be cute with me?” 

         “Perhaps.” 

         Nobunaga tilts his hips up more and drops your foot on one of the crates so that he can maneuver you with ease. Large hands sweep over your body before returning to their place at either side of your head, limiting your vision to what is in front of you: Nobunaga. 

         “No one can see you, trust in that. I wouldn’t allow it.” He grunts and uses all of his stamina to bring the both of you closer to climaxing. “I’ll shield you with my body.” 

         Tangling your fingers in his hair, you pull his face even closer to yours. His nose brushes against your lips, and Nobunaga nuzzles against you before tucking a hand under your thighs as you slip down the wall. With his other hand, he grips one of the boxes to hold on. 

         “You’re so wonderful for doing that,” you say to appeal to his ego. “I can already feel you tensing against me. Am I that good, or are you desperate to cum again?” 

         He grunts painfully and digs his fingertips into your flesh, pushing you down further until he’s on his knees. The boxes are taller than the two of you now, so he does not have to worry about being seen. Instead, he uses his palms to frisk you, pressing against your nipples to feel if they’re hard. 

         Nobunaga is tempted to tug them open, but he opts better for pressing his weight into you with every thrust. “Y-Yes,” he pants. “You’ll be mine no matter where we are, in public or in private.” 

         You hear the voices of people passing the alleyway. Maybe someone looks in for a moment, curious to know why they hear the echoes of moans and skin slapping skin, but they walk by without lingering. 

         “Yes, I’ll be yours…” 

         He buries his face in your neck, teeth grinding against your jaw to leave a fresh hickey. You tense your muscles, fighting against the mellow ache, and drag your nails up across his shoulder blades. 

         “N-Nobunaga–” 

         A string of curses falls from his lips, but that’s all he needs to hear before he cums, this time inside of you as to not leave evidence. The surge of warmth sends your toes curling and head back against the wall. Your lips form an ‘o’ of pleasure as you orgasm with his seed inside of you. He stays like that until he’s given you everything he has, but even then Nobunaga wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to protect you. 

         Your heart continues to thunder in your ears, and you cannot hear properly. 

         “W-What?” 

         “I said we should likely head back, I want to do more to you–” 

         You don’t know where he gets the energy to do so, but you kiss Nobunaga gently and brush beads of sweat away from his forehead. “More? Are you sure?” 

         His lips kiss every spot of skin he can reach. “Yes.” 

         Standing up slowly, you fold your kimono back to its place and fix the top half. Nobunaga does the same, though less successful because the hole in his obi is beyond noticeable now. Your finger must have found it and tore it open, but considering you will make him a new outfit soon, you decide it will be alright. He hesitates leaving when you grab his wrist. 

         “Let me fix your hair,” you say slowly, trying to stall so you can catch your breath. 

         Nobunaga smiles and nuzzles against your touch as you rake your fingers through his locks, pulling out the knots you left. 

         “Does it really matter? It’ll look a fine mess soon enough.” 

         “My are you feisty!” 

         Nobunaga offers you the bag of fabric before leading you down the other side of the alley. “To be fair, you admitted you’d be mine. I want to celebrate.” He gives you a bright smile and keeps you close, heat of his body radiating outwards to envelop you. 

         Keeping your hand in his, you make a run for the horses, dragging him behind you. “Then celebrate we shall.”