#rotted leaf au

[audaciousanonj]

It is your duty as a Shinobi to reduce the suffering of those around you.

My commission from @vita-divata is finished! It's now also embedded in my fic Anthracnose. Check it out!*

*Tags and warnings apply

[letolimarseehisfamily]

Rotting Leaf Disease

[starlightswordfight]

low quality wips of what is to come

[daughterofhecata]

WIP word game

Tagged by @wodkapudding - thank you! This looks fun and it's uuuh certainly welcome for procrastinating

Rules: you will be given a word. share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that start with each letter of that word. The word is GHOST (we're already getting into the halloween spirit, I see xD)

G - „Geh tiefer runter“, befahl Cottas kompromisslose Stimme. „Tiefer. Und jetzt halten.“ (Peter/Cotta AU pwp, wird vielleicht heute noch fertig - Titel: "you make it hard to hesitate")

H - "Höre ich da eine gewisse Eifersucht in deinem Ton?", neckte Victor ihn. Genoss den Anblick, wie eine ganz sachte Röte Justus' Wangen hinauf kroch. Jetzt war er in der Defensive. "Ich habe dir damals angeboten, an meiner Seite zu arbeiten, aber du wolltest davon ja nichts hören." (Justus/Victor(ish) aus Victors Sicht, weil ich das unbedingt mal ausprobieren wollte)

O - Orkanartig wirbelte der Rausch durch seinen Körper, sein Grollen ging irgendwo gegen Henrys Nacken verloren. Nur einen winzigen Augenblick später sackte Henry in sich zusammen, suchte Halt an der Werkbank. (genau genommen ist das geschummelt, weils kein WIP mehr ist. Aber pscht. Das ist aus der versprochenen Henry/Bill fic - Titel: "Sturmwind" - die ich vermutlich nachher noch hochlade)

S - Seine Gedanken jagten sich im Kreis, ohne irgendeinen Erfolg, außer, dass er Kopfschmerzen bekam und unleidlich wurde. (eine Cotta/Goodween Pining Sache, die noch in den allerfrühesten Anfängen ist)

T - "Tja", machte er, weil ihm nichts besseres einfiel. Und dann: "Das letzte, was ich über Sie gehört habe, ist, dass Sie von den Toten auferstanden sind." (Cotta/Victor, ursprünglich inspriert von ASPs "Demon Love", inzwischen mit deutlichen Einflüssen von Bessons "Venice Beach")

Tagging: @crazy-walls, @pointwhitmark, @keravnous, @alintheshitposter & @auxiliarydetective, if you want!

Word: ORCHID

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: In The Serpent's Den.

Pairing: Yandere!Suguru x Reader (JJK).

Word Count: 4.7k.

TW: Non/Con, Hybrid AU, AFAB!Reader, Cobra!Suguru, Rabbit!Reader, Biting, Aphrodisiacs, Heat Cycles, Oviposition, Manipulation, Biting, Breeding Kinks, and Predator/Prey Dynamics.

“It’s time to come out, little rabbit.”

 His tone was sickly sweet, lulled into something saccharine and tempting, only slightly distorted by the uncommon shape of his tongue. Despite his melodic coaxing, you curled further into yourself – pulling your thighs flush to your chest and burying your knees in your face, doing your best not to breathe, not to cry, not to make a sound. The temptation to uncurl yourself entirely and run, run, run until you found somewhere small and dark and safe gnawed on the back of your mind, but it never would’ve worked. You were in Suguru’s enclosure, Suguru’s territory, and there was nowhere to run where he wouldn’t be able to follow.

“I’m losing my patience, little rabbit. If you come out now, I promise I’ll try to hold myself back.”

Why was he even looking for you? It’d been weeks since his eccentric, white-haired owner forced you into the sprawling greenhouse that made up Suguru’s enclosure, and he’d never paid you a second glance. You did your best to avoid him, to make sure you never crossed his path while he was prowling for a meal. You could count the number of times he’d acknowledged you on a single hand, and he’d never so much as lunged at you. You couldn’t imagine why he’d decided you’d make a good meal now, after weeks of relatively peaceful cohabitation. Maybe he’d gotten tired of keeping you around, of having to share his territory with another hybrid – one so far below him on the food chain. Maybe, this was just the first time he’d gotten hungry enough to hunt you down.

You heard branches shift, twigs break, and instantly, all of your thoughts (rational and otherwise) were replaced with a frantic, buzzing static. “You’re only making this worse for yourself,” Suguru went on, and his voice was too loud, too close. You’d tucked yourself into the densest patch of foliage you could find, but your white ears and cottony tail stood out like blood on snow against the vivid greens and blacks of the flora. Suddenly, trying to hide at all felt stupid. Rabbits weren’t supposed to hide. Rabbits were supposed to die and get eaten by the big, mean snakes who preyed on them. “I’m going to find you, and when I do, you’re only going to be sorry you made me wait as long as I have.”

You could hear the dull drag of scales moving over rough stone, the ebbing ‘hiss’ that formed a slight lisp at the end of each sentence. You raised your head just far enough to see a large, black shape move in front of you, and something buried deep inside of you cracked and spilled open.

Running wasn’t a choice – it was the only option. You were on your feet in a second, sprinting deeper into the greenhouse in another. The direction didn’t matter. As long as you got away from him, nothing else mattered.

Blindly, you vaulted over fallen branches and overgrown roots, rotting leaf litter threatening to steal your balance as you veered away from the beaten path and threw yourself into the tangled wilderness. If Suguru was chasing you, you couldn’t hear him – the world little more than a blur of color and your own racing pulse. You just needed to find somewhere better to hide, somewhere he’d forgotten. A tunnel, or a tree hollow, or a cave dark enough to hide your snowy pelt from prying eyes. You just needed to—

 Your trek came to an abrupt end as your collided with a pane of thick, emerald-tinted glass and were sent crashing to the ground. It took you a second to process what you’d run into – the wall of the greenhouse, the edge of Suguru’s enclosure – and another to remember that you weren’t in the wilderness, anymore, that you wouldn’t find a tunnel or a cave or anywhere else to hide that hadn’t been created deliberately to trick animals like you into to think they were safe. You might’ve cried, if you hadn’t been so desperate. You might’ve gone looking for Suguru yourself, if you hadn’t been too scared to remember what it meant to be caged.

Fighting back tears, you started to scramble onto your feet, but it was already too late. There was no sound, no warning, just a sudden pressure against your back and an agonizing pain burrowed into the side of your throat. His fangs were planted in your neck before you could so much as scream, his strong tail wrapped around your legs and his arms crossed over your midriff, keeping your body locked against his as he pinned you to the ground. You expected his venom to burn, to be able to feel death as it flooded into your veins, but instead, there was only a slight numbing sensation around the point of insertion, a distant fog over your senses that might’ve just been your own fading adrenaline. If anything, you felt…

You felt warm.

Suguru took his time pulling away, his ribbon-like tongue flickering over the skin of your throat before he lifted his head. You weren’t facing him, one of your cheeks pressed into the dirt, but you could just barely see him out of the corner of your eye, make out the dark hair tucked behind his shoulders, the pitch-black scales littered over his face, his chest. You knew he was a snake, but you thought you might’ve heard his owner call him something else, once or twice. A ‘cobra’, maybe, but you’d never met a cobra before. You felt safer thinking of him as a snake.

He opened his mouth, but you were already babbling. Trying not to cry had been useless. Tears poured down your cheeks unabashedly, blurring your vision and making it that much harder to spit something coherent out. “P-please don’t eat me – I’m really small for a rabbit, and I promise I won’t taste very good, and I—”

“Quiet, little rabbit.” You’d been wrong, before. You didn’t feel warm, no, you felt hot – something deep inside of you beginning to smolder at the sound of his voice. Immediately, you shut your mouth, and he rewarded you with a raspy chuckle. “You thought I was going to… to eat you?” You nodded stiltedly, and he went on. “Ah, no wonder you were so afraid. And here I thought my timid little bunny just didn’t like me very much.”

“…’m sorry.” You must’ve run farther than you realized. A few minutes of sprinting shouldn’t have left you this breathless, this dazed. “You… You aren’t going to eat me?”

“No, bunny. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“But, you bit—”

“I gave you a present.” Another dry chuckle, his tongue flitting over the back of your neck. “Just a little something to make sure you wouldn’t be so shy. You should already be feeling better.”

You weren’t sure that you felt better, but you didn’t feel scared, either. A different feeling had taken the place of your fear – the sensation viscous and churning and prone sending pangs of dull, burning pain to the pit of your stomach. You had to make a conscious effort to move your lips, and even then, it was hard to get any sound past your suddenly dry throat. Suguru waited patiently, seemingly more than happy to watch you stumble over your own tongue. “It’s really warm,” you managed, eventually. “I think I might be… tired?”

“Oh, of course. I forgot how easy it is for prey animals to wear themselves out. I’ll take you back to my nest, where you’ll be able to rest safely.” It wasn’t a question, but you nodded eagerly. Safe. You wanted to be safe. You couldn’t remember what you needed to be safe from anymore, though.

He uncurled, but didn’t pull away from you. Rather, your smaller body was pulled against his broad chest as he took you in his arms and carried you through the greenhouse. His destination was a raised loft – set above the wild foliage of his enclosure, accessible only by a sparsely wrung ladder you never would’ve had a hope of climbing on your own. His nest wasn’t at all like a rabbit��s nest, either. Rather than a deep, dark tunnel padded with fur and leaves, he’d taken you to a mess of tangled roots and woven blankets, all piled onto one another to form a box-like bed. Your form, limper than you would’ve liked it to be, was laid on a relatively soft patch, and Suguru positioned himself above you; upper body supported by his forearms, his never-ending tail taking up whatever space you left unoccupied. You wanted to sleep, to do what he said you should, but he was still touching you – dragging a single, clawed finger down your chest and over your midriff, only pausing at your waist to draw slow, swirling patterns into your hip. “My venom has a unique side-effect, you know,” he muttered, his voice low and soothing, the tapered tip of his tail lashing from side to side as he spoke. “A full dose would be fatal. It’d be fast, too – a few seconds of screaming, a few seconds of twitching, and then—” He paused, clicked his tongue. “—dead, just like that. It’s a little anti-climactic, to be honest.”

Something deep inside of you began to throb. You shrunk into yourself, trying to relieve the pulsing ache, but Suguru mistook your agony for fear. “In controlled portions,” he continued, splaying his open palm over your hip. “The symptoms are much more pronounced. Humans tend to get all feverish and clumsy, but hybrids—”

Again, he paused. His hand drifted lower – first to your thigh, then your cunt. You didn’t realize you were dripping until his cold fingertips skirted over your slit, gathering up the slick already staining the inside of your thighs.

“Hybrids go into heat.”

A cold wave of dread washed over you, and Suguru’s smile widened.

“…heat?”

“Heat, little rabbit.”

His hand lingered on your pussy, two of his massive fingers splitting apart your lips and making room for his tongue to lap gingerly over your entrance. The sensation was strange – not good and not bad, a little ticklish – but your hips bucked as it flickered over your clit. You knew better than to get so close to a snake’s mouth, but you couldn’t seem to move, to think about anything but getting closer, closer to anything that could touch and poke and lick you. “Is heat—” You started, only to be cut off by a cracked whimper as the throbbing in your core intensified. “Is it supposed to hurt?”

“Only for a while.” His deep voice reverberated against your cunt, and you couldn’t stop yourself; attempting to rock your hips against his mouth with a high-pitched whine. It was embarrassing to be so needy, so desperate, but Suguru didn’t seem to mind, only ghosting his lips over the inside of your thigh as he pushed you back down. “But, you’ll need a mate to help you through it. Do you want a mate?”

“Y-Yes! Mate!” You’d never felt this empty, before. It was a little like hunger, but not as jagged, not as desolate. It was more of an absence than anything more tangible; a total and complete vacancy that had to be filled. You tried to roll onto your stomach, to scramble onto your hands and knees and present yourself, but Suguru held you in place with minimal effort. Your protest came in the form of a drawn-out whine, a waving sound Suguru mocked with a low coo and an airy laugh. “Please, please, it hurts, Suguru, I can’t— I need—”

“You need cock,” he finished, his tone one of pure, undeniable satisfaction. With a sigh, he picked himself up, straightening his back and towering above you. You felt saliva pool at the bottom of your mouth as the junction between his upper body and his tail came into view – pale skin slowly giving way to ebony scales, the sculpted muscle of his chest meeting the plated armor below his hips. His hand fell away from you, but you couldn’t mourn the loss of contact, not when your attention was so fixated on the thin, almost invisible slit just below his pubic bone. His fingertips slipped shallowly inside of it, and his gaze shifted back to you. “Come, little bunny. I think you’ve earned another treat.”

The encouragement was appreciated, but unnecessary. You were already crawling towards him, your limbs uncooperative and your movements jolting but your resolve absolute. There was still a throbbing emptiness inside of you, getting worse and more demanding with each neglectful second, but all you could think about was settling onto your knees in front of Suguru and drooling at the sight of his fluttering slit. You weren’t sure what to do, whether to use your hands or your mouth, but Suguru didn’t leave much time for indecision. His free hand found its way to the back of your head, nudging you forward until your mouth was pressed against his slit, just starting to leak thick trails of translucent slick over his dark scales. Your tongue darted past your lips hesitantly, at first, but your trepidation didn’t last very long. It couldn’t, not when you had a hollow pit inside of you still begging to be filled.

Suguru’s fingers carded through your hair as you lapped and sucked at his slit. The taste was mildly acidic, but surprisingly sweet – your eyes quickly falling shut as you sank into a pattern of wet sounds and strange textures and point claws grazing over your scalp, scratching at your ears. Throaty moans (the loudest noise you would ever hear Suguru make, in hindsight) and mumbled praise trickled past his lips as you worked, letting you know that he liked the way you were curling your tongue, that the spongy spot you could just barely reach inside of him was particularly sensitive. It wasn’t long before a mix of your saliva and his arousal dripped past the corners of your mouth, before the end of his tail was lashing violently within the confines of his nest. Maybe Suguru was in heat, too. You hoped he was. You didn’t want to be the only one in so much pain.

You felt the tapered tip of something smooth and stiff against your tongue, and Suguru buckled forward, a ragged gasp tearing past his lips as he took your head in both hands and pressed you flush against his abdomen. Confused and panicked, you tried to pull away, but his grip was iron-clad and it was all you could do to whimper, to sit there helplessly while something filled your mouth – hard and ridged and hot enough to burn. Cock, the pulsing in your core filled in, but it couldn’t be. Suguru had made it sound like something you needed, something you were supposed to want, but you didn’t like the way the blunt head prodded at the back of your throat, the way the ridged underside ground against your tongue. For the first time since he’d caught you, your instincts agreed with your better judgement, both urging you to get away, to run, to put distance between yourself and this newfound threat.

Your pussy, though, couldn’t seem to do anything but chant mate, mate, mate.

You could feel something else, too – not in your mouth, but pressing into your chin, your throat. Reflexively, your hands shot up, wrapping around the thick intruder, and this time, Suguru let go of you entirely, biting back a half-choked groan as he pushed you away, leaving you sprawled out and alone in the center of his nest. The hollowness inside of you was nearly unbearable, and rubbing your thighs together only seemed to make it worse. You tried to look to Suguru, to ask him to do something, but instead, your eyes caught on the long, pale appendage pressed into his lower stomach. His cock. Or, his cocks, you guessed.

You hadn’t expected there to be two of them.

You hadn’t expected them to be so big, either. Even at a distance, it was clear they weren’t meant for a rabbit. Just one would’ve been more than you could handle – as long as your forearm, as thick as your wrist, the end tapered to a steep point but the base absolutely massive before they disappeared into his slit. The color was strange, too – the tip flushed a dull pink while the base was nearly as dark as his scales, creating an ombre that might’ve been pretty, if you weren’t so terrified. You couldn’t see any veins, but both were sculpted with pronounced, perfectly spaced ridges. You couldn’t imagine having something like that inside of you, but you couldn’t imagine not having anything inside of you, either.

You couldn’t be sure how long you spent staring up at him, trying to wrap your head around his size, trying to decide if you’d rather be torn apart by his cock or your own increasingly demanding needs. In the end, it wasn’t really your choice to make. His eyes darted from your clenched thighs to your heaving chest to yours, wide and watery, and a grin found its way back to his lips. For some reason, his smile wasn’t as comforting as it’d been, the first time you saw it. “I’m sorry, little rabbit. Did I startle you?” The tenderness in his voice was almost cloying. You didn’t move, didn’t respond, but he didn’t seem to need you to. “I didn’t mean to. Why don’t you spread your legs nice n’ wide for me, and I’ll make it up to you?”

Your gaze fell back to his cocks. One of his fists had wrapped around both, pumping idly while he stood above you. “Are those supposed to…?” You trailed off, shrinking into yourself. Suguru hummed, and you took it as confirmation. “But you’ll only use one, right? I don’t think I can— I mean, it won’t fit if you—”

“Really? I could’ve sworn you were begging to be fucked properly just a few minutes ago.” You stiffened, but he only laughed. “Fine, fine. If that’s what you think you want, I’ll only use one.”

You didn’t think you could trust him, but you could feel yourself getting hot, again, a haze forming over your mind. You could leave when he was finished, you figured, even if you weren’t entirely sure how to get out of his nest, or where to go once you’d escaped back into the greenhouse. After you got over your— your heat.

Hesitantly, you started to listen to the negging mantra still playing in the back of your mind, to obey the near-deafening voice in the back of your head urging you to get on your hands and knees and make him fuck you, but Suguru must’ve decided you weren’t moving fast enough. His tail shifted underneath you, a thick coil catching your side and leaving you bent over one of the thicker lengths, your stomach pressed into his cool scales and your feet barely able to reach the tangled roots of his nest. You scrambled for purchase, but Suguru was there to steady you – his hands finding your hips, his cocks pressing into your ass. The calloused pads of his fingertips pressed into your waist as he aligned one of his cocks – the upper one, you thought, just a little thicker than its twin – with your entrance. He was kind enough to give you a long, slow second to breathe before his hips rutted forward and he inside of you.

Immediately, it felt wrong.

You’d been right when you decided he was too big for you. He was only half-sheathed, and yet, the tip of his cock pressed into the floor of your cervix, the head of his cock alone enough to stretch your pussy as far as it could go. Thankfully, he didn’t try to force himself deeper, but feeling the smooth ridges of rub against the walls of your pussy as he pulled back wasn’t much better. Still, your cunt clenched around him eagerly, doing its best to suck him in despite your physical limitations. Suguru, of course, seemed more than happy to indulge you. His thrusts were slow and lethargic, as gentle as they could’ve been but still forceful enough to leave you pinned to the curve of his tail. You weren’t in control of your body, anymore. As he rolled his hips against your ass, you ground back against him, your greedy cunt never warm enough, never wet enough, never full enough. You tried to dig your blunt claws into his tail, to ground yourself, but it was a futile effort; a limping dear attempting to evade a wolf who’d already tasted its blood. Suguru’s only response was a stifled groan, a new roughness to the way he fucked into you. You felt his chest against your back as he bent at the waist, draping himself over you, his dark hair falling from his shoulder and replacing chunks of your vision with a curtain of thick, endless black. It didn’t matter. A fresh wave of tears would’ve left you just as helpless, not that Suguru seemed to mind the way you sniffled and sobbed between moans.

“They say— fuck, you know what they say about rabbits, don’t you, bunny?” His voice was barely audible, but it seemed to echo on and on and on in your overly sensitive ears. His cock ground against something softened and vulnerable inside of you and your back arched, your pussy clenching impossibly tighter around him. “That’s it,” Suguru encouraged, as you tried to pry yourself away from his freezing tail and chase the gentle warmth of his chest. “They say bunnies make the best sluts. Knock them up once, and they’ll never stop begging for it.”

Kits. A strong mate. A safe nest. The thought alone had you crying out for nothing, your convulsions growing that much more erratic, and Suguru chuckled in-turn. “Like that? Want me to make you into my little mate-whore?”

“Want it, please, w-want it so bad.” It was all you could do to force yourself to speak, to spit something out through the daze of lust and exhaustion and total, unrelenting fullness. You’d never been more sure of anything than you were in that moment, never knew something as deeply as you knew that you wanted Suguru’s kits inside of you. “Please, wanna be you mate, wanna—Suguru—!”

One more thrust, one more scape of his sleek scales against your clit, and you were coming undone around his cock in jolting, erratic convulsions. Suguru let out a ragged grunt and straightened his back, but the distance was short-lived. Strong arms snaked under your knees, spreading your legs and hauling you up to his height. Your back remained pressed against his chest as he pulled out of you entirely and slammed back in. Even through the overstimulation, the wrongness hit you immediately. His cock was too big, too thick, and—

And he was inside of you.

Completely inside of you.

You forced yourself to open your eyes, letting your head fall forward limply. The shock was minimal, but still devastating – both of Suguru’s cocks buried inside of you to their pitch-black bases, their outlines just barely visible against the plush flesh of your lower stomach. “You—You promised you wouldn’t—”

His face was buried in the dip of your shoulder, his lips parted as panted against you. You felt his teeth catch on your skin before sinking into you, had time to process the pure heat of his venom seeping into your veins. Instantly, anything you might’ve said died on your tongue, your mind going utterly, entirely blank save for a single thought: mate.

Your mouth fell open, your thighs spreading that much farther. Suguru pressed a lingering, open-mouthed kiss into the injection site, then pulled away, grinning wildly. “A few drops, and you’ll want everything I have to give you,” he muttered. “That’s better, isn’t it, bunny?”

Much better. You could feel something swelling at the base of his cock, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, couldn’t bring yourself to acknowledge anything other than the utter bliss as a small, round shape was milked up the length of his cock and emptied into your core. Kits, you thought, and did your best to settle onto his twin cocks, to hold still as another egg was forced through your tight pussy. You stopped trying to count after the fourth – giving in completely to the shuddering, splintering euphoria every new member of your little family brought you. By the time the final egg was safe and snug inside of you, you were limp, twitching, and so full, it was hard to imagine ever feeling empty again.

As the last aftershocks started to fade, Suguru sucked in a stilted gasp and pulled you flush against his chest. You felt his second cock twitch once, then twice inside of you before something warm and thick flooded into your pussy. You whined miserably as he pulled out of you, but he didn’t stay gone for very long. Your pliable body was turned around in his arms, his cocks slid back into your leaking cunt as he carefully lowered himself onto the floor of his nest – your body laid on top of his. You strung your arms around his neck and pressed yourself against his chest, closing your eyes and giving in to your well-earned exhaustion.

You lasted just long enough to hear him mutter something about mates and clutches before your consciousness faded entirely and your mind went mercifully, blissfully silent.

~

Hours later, you woke up to the sound of a low, long whistle. “Really did a number on the poor thing, huh, Suguru?”

It took you a second to blink your eyes open, to raise your head and glance toward the man standing at the top of the ladder that led to Suguru’s nest, and another to recognize him as Suguru’s owner. His white hair was in a state of disarray, his eyes hidden behind circles of tinted glass, and for some reason, he was looking at you. You shrunk further into Suguru, but he only laughed – the noise loud and piercing to your foggy senses.

Suguru’s cocks were no longer inside of you, the flushed tips just barely visible at the base of his slit. You were still on his chest, and his arms were wrapped around your waist, his hold loose but possessive. There was a small bump over your lower stomach, and you weren’t sure whether to grimace or beam at the feeling of Suguru’s eggs shifting inside of you with every little movement. He was already awake – had been for some time, judging by the unimpressed scowl pressed into his lips. Something sharp and icy lodged itself into your chest, but his glare was directed towards his owner, not you, and the very tip of his tail curled around your ankle protectively as his owner stepped into his nest.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to walk into a serpent’s den?”

“I don’t think it counts if I own the den.” He straddled the bulk of Suguru’s tail, then gestured to you. “Turn the pretty baby around. I wanna see the damage.”

You shook your head vehemently, clinging to Suguru’s neck, but his own response was an exasperated sigh, a fleeting hiss to your cheek as he flipped you over; leaving you slayed across his chest and exposed to his owner’s prying gaze. “Five minutes,” he said, as his owner shrugged the waistband of his pants down just far enough to free his cock, already half-hard, already enough to send a bolt of pure dread from your heart to the pit of your stomach. “I don’t want your scent on my mate.”

You opened your mouth, ready to whine that you were sore, that you were tired, that you didn’t want anyone but Suguru and your kits inside of you, but the words withered into nothing on your tongue as his owner eased himself into your dripping pussy, as Suguru caught you by the chin and pulled you into a shallow, lingering kiss – the points of his fangs just barely scraping over your bottom lip. Looking back on it, it had been silly to ever worry that he’d eat you.

You should’ve been worried that he wouldn’t.

[suguwu]

this is messy but—

flower shop au with dabi where he still has his scars but they're from when he tried to burn his father's office down and got caught in the flames. now he's released from prison but is having a hard time finding a job but takes refuge sometimes in this little flower shop around the corner from his rehabilitation center. the mist in the air feels good on his scars and cools him off and the scent of earth is grounding. brings him back into his own skin. he lingers but never buys anything but you—the owner—never seems to chase him out.

you smile at him and bob your head in greeting before returning back to the bouquet you're making. it's like you trust him. maybe you do.

one day, he's running a finger over a leaf of a flower, one that blushes like the dawn, sweet, soft pink. he's afraid to touch a silken petal; thinks it will rot beneath his clumsy fingers, considering the way it ripples like a wave in the barest breeze.

"ranunculus."

he glances over his shoulder at you. "bless you."

you laugh.

"the flower," you explain. "it's called a ranunculus."

"oh."

"here," you say, picking one out of the bucket it's tucked into. the water sloshes; it gleams on the long, thick stem of the flower. "hold that for a second."

he blinks as you shove the flower into his hands. then you're plucking more flowers from nearby buckets, your hands moving like fluttering little birds. you gather more and more, until he can barely see you behind the greenery and the blooms. he recognizes some: proud, leggy irises; fluffy ball peonies, as white as driven snow; crimson tulips so dark they're almost black.

"c'mon," you say, heading towards your worktable. he follows, feeling a little ridiculous carrying a single bloom versus your meadow-like armful. you lay your wares out on the table and beckon him closer. he holds out the ranunculus. you flick off the end of the stem with your knife. he hovers, unsure.

"well?" you say. "are you gonna sit?"

he eyes you. you meet his gaze steadily, a hint of a smile pulling at your lips.

"feel bad for me?" he sneers. "that why you're being so nice?"

you hum.

"is putting you to work nice?" you ask, already on to the next flower. he watches the way you hold the knife, how it shines silver in the sunlight, how easily it slides through the thick stem. those hands of yours move with careful surety. he wonders if you do origami; he could see you creasing a thick piece of ornamental paper perfectly.

"i wouldn't call this work."

"no? then you shouldn't mind doing it."

he shoves his hands into his pockets. the misters turn on over the flower buckets; some of the spray settles against his skin, as if he's by the sea.

"fine," he says. "show me."

at the end of the day, you insist on paying him, despite the fact that he's cut a few of the stems too short—one of your bouquets is a little lopsided, but you have it displayed with all the others—and ruined a few blooms. there are petals stuck to his fingertips.

he goes home smelling of wet loam and your faint perfume. rei blinks her big doe eyes at his sudden appearance at the family dinner table, but she makes space for him all the same.

he goes back to your shop the next day. you smile at him, soft and pretty and a little bit sharp with knowing, and he ducks further into his hoodie so you can't see his scars.

"show me more," he tells you.

you tilt your head.

"alright," you say. "let's go."

and just like that, he has a job.

he makes it three weeks before he thinks about kissing you.

it's your hands, he thinks. they're careful and quick and fearless, despite getting pierced by thorns and clippers alike. you touch everything with a certain type of care.

including him.

he never had a chance against you. he thinks about your hands, about your lips, about the way you're so careful with him. not like he's breakable. he'd have left if you touched him like that.

no, you touch him the same way you touch your flowers: like he means something.

it's too much.

he stops going to your shop.

but he watches you, sometimes. you move like a dream, floating between the aisles, petals caught on your fingertips. you laugh with your customers; you chat with them as you roll their bouquets up tight in paper, tied off with a perfect bow. you smile at a man, as bright as the sun, and his hands tighten into fists. it pulls the scars tight enough to hurt, but he doesn't care.

he barges into the shop, shouldering the man aside as he tries to exit. ignores the disgruntled call from behind him. by the time he makes it to the register, you're watching him coolly.

he realizes he doesn't know what to say.

you reach out. he lets you slide that careful hand into the hood of his hoodie; lets you cup his cheek. your eyes don't widen at the rough texture of his scars against your skin. you simply smile at him.

"welcome back," you say, and he realizes he doesn't need to say anything at all.

[buddierecs]

hurt/comfort buddie fics.

all of these are general audience, teen and up or not rated (no smut) make sure to kudos/comment on these amazing works :)

a leaf falls on loneliness (highly recommend this fic!!) by: iimpossible_things "buck doesn’t think that if he were to say, “i’m in a bad place”, that anyone would turn him away. really, he doesn’t. the 118 has too many good, kind people for that. but every time he wants to open his mouth, to say something, to reach out to eddie or bobby or hen or chim, he hears eddie yelling, “you’re exhausting.” —you’re exhausting, you’re exhausting, you’re exhausting— so each day he does his job and he laughs and he jokes and he pretends he’s the care-free goofball he’s always been. And each day he packs away his bruises and his worries, takes them home to his empty loft with its quiet rooms, and licks his wounds in silence." word count: 11k important tags: angst, fluff, happy ending, orginal male character blue skies by: spaceprincessem "buck meets another savior baby and everything comes crashing down" word count: 36k important tags: my sisters keeper au, original characters, ptsd, nightmares, emotional whump, evan buckley break down, getting together and i'm not good at winning fights anymore by: spaceprincessem "five times buck needs to feel eddie's heartbeat and the one time eddie needs to feel his" word count: 24k important tags: 5+1 things, whump, protective!eddie diaz, getting together, soft boys in love, ptsd give your heart and soul to charity by: 42hrb "eddie dumps god, gets some more therapy, accepts parts of himself he was taught to hate, loves his best friend, and loves himself" word count: 12k important tags: emotional hurt/comfort, pov eddie diaz, character study, catholic guilt, therapy, pining, getting together i could find you darling, in any life by: justhockey "buck and eddie meet in afghanistan. it changes everything." word count: 27k important tags: diferent first meeting au, army!eddie diaz, navy seal!evan buckley, emotional infidelity, slow burn, hurt/comfort, love confessions catharsis by: rogerzsteven "it only takes one minor inconvenience for buck to have his long overdue breakdown" word count: 5.3k important tags: emotional hurt/comfort, mental/emotional breakdown, bobby nash as evan buckley parent, multiple pov stay by: soft_satan buck’s voice was soft and hesitant, but full of patience when he finally spoke again. “did I do something to upset you, chris? i can leave—” "no!” chris whirled on him, a complete shift from the standoffish vibe he had been giving a second ago. the tears he bravely held back finally broke free from his eyes, sliding down his rosy cheeks from behind his glasses. he shook his head vehemently, the yellow crayon falling to the table. “no, I’m not mad. please…” his words turned to whimpers, his lip trembling. “please don’t leave me too.” word count: 31k important tags: whump, angst, family feels, found family, getting together, team as family

habits by: whileyouresleeping "buck's not sure what's going on when eddie starts kissing him on the head after a rough call, only now it's a thing, and it's a thing buck would very much like to continue if he knew what it meant." word count: 4.9k important tags: tooth-rotting fluff, mild hurt/comfort stick with you by soft_satan "eddie licked his dry lips as he reached for his radio, trying to keep his movements slow and delicate to prevent any more damage to himself or buck. “diaz to captain nash.” “go for nash,” came bobby’s quick reply. “you two okay? where are you?” “we’re in a bit of a sticky situation here…” “we’re a shish kabob, cap!” buck chimed in. eddie rolled his eyes" word count: 5.9k important tags: impalements, whump, getting together, love confessions, hurt!buddie still by: brewsrosemilk "for the first time, buck longs for a bullet wound to treat. dirt to dig at. a door to break through. something. there’s nothing. “your guess was correct, diaz,” the bomb technician tells them, as he gestures to the orange circle. “you’re standing on a large sensor plate, wired to a detonator. It’s incredibly important that you don’t move. don’t shift. when you put your weight down, it was like cocking a gun - you take your weight off, this thing is powerful enough to take the entire house with it." word count: 9.3k important tags: near death experience, love confessions, happy ending, first kiss

be my baby (i'll look after you) by: youdrewstarsaroundmyscars118 "buck finally breaks down after fixing everyone but himself" word count: 1.5k important tags: nightmares, ptsd, panic attacks, pet names, cuddling, pre-relationship, almost love confession i was made for you by: youdrewstarsaroundmyscars118 "buck’s taking care of christopher while eddie is in texas when chris gets sick and has to get surgery." word count: 5.3k important tags: sick!christopher diaz, parent evan buckley, hospitals, bobby nash is evan buckley's parent, getting together, 118 crew as family i know you're hurting (but so am i) by: justhockey "eddie understands better than maybe anyone else ever could, how it feels to have everything unravel in the palm of your hands. he knows frustration - he knows fury. he’s painfully familiar with that burning rage that crackles in the tips of your fingers, that makes your skin hot and chest tight, and makes you want to punch anyone that dares to even look at you. but that doesn’t give chim the right to lay a damn hand on buck" word count: 3.7k important tags: ptsd, feelings realisation, protective!eddie diaz, communication, 5x04 coda of bikes and concussions by: datleggy "buck gets into an accident on his way to work in the morning, and before he can explain why he's late, he gets thoroughly chewed out and the rest of his day goes way downhill from there." word count: 7.6k important tags: injured!evan buckley, misunderstandings, father-son relationship (buck and bobby), team as family it's okay by: itsmylifekay "buck gets hurt on a call and doesn’t tell anyone." word count: 11k important tags: injury, dissociation, buck needs a hug love language by: whileyouresleeping "eddie's love language is acts of service, and buck doesn't totally get it." word count: 6.4k important tags: mild hurt/comfort, pining, fluff, friends to lovers don't go without me by: ingu "there was a snap, and a crack, and buck was suddenly weightless. the car, the tree, eddie, everything was falling. buck was falling. falling." word count: 31k important tags: major character injury, pining, team as family, whump, love confessions, getting together accidental (please check tw!!) by: rosefield "post lawsuit, buck accidentally cuts his arm. he decides that maybe not getting help is best for everyone." word count: 36k important tags: depression, suicide attempt, post-lawsuit, worried!eddie diaz, happy ending

check out the recs for mature rating hurt/comfort fics :) explicit rating hurt/comfort fics

[reveluving]

the bump in the night ; rick flag x reader

summary: someone made Mrs Flag cry, and her family is not having it.

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, shadow-magic f!reader, reverse comfort & humour!

a/n: this AU is based on this piece I made a while back, 'cause you already know I can't do this special without hubby Rick and the kids! hope you enjoy it & don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» wanna know what I have in store this fall? come & check out my m.list for 'reve's quirky reverie 🕷️'!

'For now, they had a plan, hoping it could bring a smile to your face.' ;

Coming home to his daughter's hugs had become an everyday thing if Rick didn't have to work overtime, but if the flicker of sadness in her eyes was anything to go by, something had to have happened while he was away.

“Mrs Bedford was saying bad stuff to mama while we were at the park.” 

It was the same thing she told her brothers when they got home from school, and just like them, it was enough for Rick to get the whole picture.

Ah, Mrs Bedford. Or as the neighbourhood youngsters, children and teenagers alike, like to call her 'the modern witch of the road', and not in the cool way. Her husband was no better, always bugging you at any given opportunity. The worst part was Mrs Bedford always antagonized you for it, even if she knew you didn’t entertain her husband’s behaviour. It was also extremely hypocritical of her, considering she herself has tried to make her move on Rick. A lot. Only to be met with disappointment each time. 

Her children were just as bad, too, to put it lightly.

“What did she say?” It was the green light Irene needed before she explained what had happened to a T, courtesy of her father’s eagle eye. Unlike most days, it was just you and Irene visiting the park since your sons had football practice. 

The two of you were feeding the ducks when Mrs Bedford came up to you.

“You on your own?” Was the first thing she asked you before you questionably said ‘yes’, despite Irene being there too, and the little girl realized Mrs Bedford wouldn’t have gone off on a tangent about you and your ‘possibly tainted history’ if her father or brothers were around in the first place.

“I don’t know what you did but I can see it in your eyes, Flag. You’re no saint. You can fool the others with your little flower shop and your so-called angelic kids, but not me.”

Though Mrs Bedford knew nothing about your powers or your time in Belle Reve, instead, spewing hate out of jealousy and hatred for you for being the favourable neighbour, she wasn’t completely wrong. You have hurt people, you’ve even killed some, but they were for the greater good. Since your freedom from hell on earth, you’ve barely used your umbrakineses. It wasn’t until the birth of your children, to which all three of them gained your abilities did you realized you couldn’t run from who you really were—it wasn’t right nor fair to them.

Then, telling them your story as a criminal and how their dad was once your enemy was another thing. You weren’t sure what reaction you were expecting, but it was certainly not amazement and sparkles in their eyes. As they grew older, they began to make sense of how their parents somehow knew people like Aunt Harley, Uncle Robert and hell, even Nanaue.

And at that point in time, Mrs Bedford reminded you of Waller, turning you into submission as you could do nothing but listen to her make a mockery out of you for turning over a new leaf. Irene had to watch your face drop as the woman insulted you, and she knew she had to tell her family about it. 

Irene insisted that she was fine about heading home early, even if you tried to convince her otherwise. She wanted nothing more than to do something about that glazed look in your eyes.

As soon as you stepped foot into the living room, a tear rolled down your cheek. You couldn't help but apologize to her, to everyone if they were with you then. You weren’t entirely sure if it was because you seemed weak over a bunch of words or their fate of ending up with you as the wife and a mother of their family.

Irene shook her head, hugging you with her face in your tummy.

"You're not a mean person, mama. You're the nicest and coolest mama we could ever ask for, and we love you." 

It was simple, something you've heard of thousands of times in your lifetime, but you very much needed it today.

Ever the sweet girl, she accompanied you as you lay in your bed, telling you random stories about what she painted during art class or what she ate at lunch, anything but the time Mrs Bedford’s son, Kyle pushed her off the swing while his older brother, Blake laughed and praised him for doing so. You didn’t need to know that. 

Not yet.

You listened with a warm smile, embarrassed but nonetheless thankful for how observant she was of your feelings before eventually dozing off. 

Irene was careful yet quick to jump off the bed, running downstairs to shush Richie and Ethan as they returned home. 

The more she explained, the brighter their eyes unnaturally glowed. Richie was starting to look like their father as he crossed his arms, listening to her like a police officer, while Ethan seemed like he was already thinking of ways to counter the Bedford’s undignified acts.

Basically, the Bedfords were not the greatest people. Each and every one of them. 

Though they had a myriad of ideas, they weren’t sure how much their father would appreciate it, even if it was for your sake. Still, they thanked Irene for being there for you, promising that something would be done, no matter what it would be.

For now, they had a plan, hoping it could bring a smile to your face.

After an unexpected nap, you came down to find your kids huddled on the couch, whispering and hushing each other. Curious, you approached them.

Ethan was the first to notice you, offering you a grin before showing you what was in their hands, “Look, ma, I think we got it.” 

You leaned in to take a closer look, only for your breath to hitch at the sight of life on their palms. There, they showed you the differing mass of shadows they conjured, a tougher one you just taught them about a week ago. You have always loved this trick as a kid, and it only aided your sanity when you were by your lonesome in the penitentiary. In a way, you were replacing what life truly was by making your own, even if they were temporary because there was no telling when or if you’d ever be free. 

Yet, here they were, prompting joy and pride as they held the wispy animals of their choice; Richie with what seemed to be an adorable little puppy, Ethan creatively emulated a bioluminescent jellyfish and Irene…

Oh, Irene.

She scarcely remembered how much you loved making her laugh by conjuring butterflies when she was still very little if not for the twins confirming it. 

The butterfly was as small as her hand, but the wings were majestic, idly flapping before flying over to you, leaving cloudy black trails and landing on your outstretched finger. 

You stared at their creations ever so lovingly, already on the brink of tears. You were just as mad at yourself for doubting your worth, and your potential, just because of the things you had to do in the past, for the sake of the person you were now.

You embraced Irene in a tight hug before pulling your boys in as well. You sniffled, absolutely joyous and blessed to be surrounded by the most loving people. Nothing could deter you from this, not even as the shadow puppy yipped and chased the jellyfish and butterfly in excitement. Your cat, Tofu, must’ve heard the commotion, too, as she came from the kitchen to check, only to be frightened and jump on the couch with you as the puppy came running to her.

Rick finally arrived about two hours later, coming home to hear laughter before he saw Irene running across the room, followed by Tofu and the shadow puppy in tow. The jellyfish laid on Richie’s head like a nest whereas the butterfly decided to make Ethan’s shoulder its home as they hung out with you on the couch.

“Daddy!” Irene greeted him before running over to him. He didn’t question the questioning look she gave him just yet and instead, hoisted her up, laughing as Tofu and the puppy pawed at his bootlaces.

“What’s going on here?” He raised his brows, amused by what could be described as a fever dream of a sight.

“The kids learnt how to make little lives.” You giggled, allowing Rick to sit next to you as you scooted over.

“And I got a new hat,” Richie gestured to the jellyfish, who he has now dubbed as Jelly. As if it understood, Jelly immediately floated away, leaving Richie’s hair flattened, “Never mind.”

You shared a laugh as he deadpanned before you turned to Rick, “Was work okay?”

“Yeah, the usual. Decorated the place today, actually.” He took his phone out of his pocket, opening his gallery and showing you and the kids the spookily tacky decor that furnished his workplace.

“Did you really paint ‘dead inside, don’t open’ on the entrance door?” The twins gawked.

“Fitting, ain't it?” Rick joked, prompting smiles and chuckles from you once more before falling back on the couch, “But at least I’m off tomorrow, so I was thinking we could eat out for dinner.”

“Oh! We should head to Pop’s since they’re also offering their apple betty.” Ethan suggested.

“Well, I think that’s a good idea, so,” Richie trailed off, raising anticipation from the rest of you before jumping off the couch and running up the stairs. Ethan and Irene simultaneously gasped before the former took his sister out of Rick’s arms to chase their brother together. You and Rick could only watch with delight as Tofu and the shadow creatures followed them too.

“Everything okay?” He wanted to know, but he wouldn’t pry if you weren’t ready to tell him.

“Yeah,” You nodded, gazing down for a moment before continuing, “Something happened earlier but…”

“Richie! You better not lock the door or I swear to God!” Ethan’s voice rang out from upstairs, followed by Irene’s ‘language!’, and you couldn’t help but shake your head in amusement. 

“It’s all good now.” You reassured him. You knew you could’ve told him, but it wasn’t worth dwelling on. You had children to nurture and a husband to take on the world with.

“The Bedfords?” He guessed. If it wasn’t them, then it had to be Mr Walker.

“The Bedfords,” You confirmed with a tight smile, “I’m just more upset that Irene was there to hear it.”

You didn’t explain any further and Rick took it as a sign to drop it. If they were able to make you this upset, then it was best to ask the kids instead. 

“I’m sorry,” He pulled you to his chest, planting a slow and gentle kiss on your forehead. He rubbed your back, sighing at the very mention of that family. Rick loathed that they were influential enough to be one of the higher-ups of the school’s PTA, though he was confident that money was involved in it too. He hated that they were reasons why you’d come home ranting about how Mrs Bedford bugged you again, or when he had to make sure Mr Bedford knew he was making a promise and not an empty threat whenever it involved their kids and his, "You know I can talk to them." 

It would do no good, but it was worth trying. 

"No, you know how the Bedfords are. Don’t worry, okay? Not now,” You kissed the inside of his palm before pressing your lips against his, soft, sensual and safe. Rick moved forward, deepening the kiss as held the nape of your neck. You pulled away but not before nuzzling his nose, “We should be celebrating.”

He nodded, though he knew it would only linger in his mind for a while. Still, he adhered to your wishes, standing up before offering you his hand to get ready, “Right, right. Shall we?”

You snorted, placing your hand in his the way a princess would when a prince asks for a dance. Unexpectedly, he twirled you around, wrapping his arms around you he pulled you in, chest to chest. You playfully smacked him, though it did very little to wipe off the pleased look on his face as the two of you headed to your room. 

You and the boys were the first to head out to the front yard, chatting and evaluating the decors of the houses while waiting for Rick and Irene. 

“What happened today?” He asked his daughter quietly as they stood at the front door, helping with her shoes while she slid on a jacket. 

“Mrs Bedford was saying bad stuff to mama while we were at the park.” She whispered back, swinging her arms as she watched her father tie her shoelace, “Like, really mean stuff. No one was around except us so she was kinda loud, too.”

Rick fumed, clenching his jaw as he could already hear and picture whatever nonsense she loved to spit out. 

“Mama got kinda quiet when we came home, and then she started crying. About how she’s sorry she was a criminal and how we’re ‘stuck’ with her powers.” She added. If anything, she and the boys thought your abilities were the coolest thing to have ever happened to them. 

He shook his head—who wouldn't crack after being subjected to their ways for so long? He hummed, hiding the seething resentment by ruffling Irene's hair.

"Can you help me distract your mother while I talk to the boys for a bit?" She nodded diligently, skipping over to you before Rick called out to his sons, "Need some help, boys." 

They rushed over, glancing at you before Ethan spoke up first, "She told you?" 

"Yeah." Rick replied as he locked the door.

"Can't we do something about it?" Richie asked with a frown.

"You boys are not punching Blake again." Rick reminded them with a small smile. 

"You didn't seem to mind it," Ethan mirrored his father's amusement, "He was yelling at our teammate and encouraged his troll brother to push Irene off a swing." 

"I'm mad, too," Rick was more than mad, but he couldn't let his emotions run wild, "Look, we'll think of something, alright? For now, just make sure she's happy." 

That's all they ever wanted.

The drive to Pop's was a lively one, and so was the dinner itself. Though you knew you'd be thinking about Mrs Bedford's words every once in a while, the smiles and laughter of your family were already a welcoming distraction as it is. 

Midnight rolled around, and everyone had returned to their rooms with sore cheeks and a full stomach. You were the first to slip under the covers after a shower, hoping you wouldn't be too tired as you waited for Rick, though it didn't work.

By the time Rick got out of the bathroom, you were peacefully asleep, your face just a breath away from your husband's pillow as his scent soothed you like no other. 

Rick smiled to himself, changing into his PJs before sitting on your side of the bed. The dip roused you from your slumber just a little.

"Rick?" You murmured, fluttering your lashes tiredly.

"Forgot to get some water," He caressed your cheek before bending down to kiss it, "I'll be back." 

You mustered a closed-eye smile and before you knew it, you drifted off once again, lulled by the way he patted your back.

Once the coast was clear, he moved off the bed, silently slipping out and closing the door before heading over to the twins' room. He knocked on the door, just enough for them to hear before doing the same with Irene's door and headed downstairs.

Rick sat down at the dining table with a glass of cold water, arms crossed and lost in his own thoughts before hearing light footsteps approaching.

Richie, Ethan and Irene carefully pulled their chairs back before taking a seat, and just like that, the discussion began.

But it didn't seem like they were getting anywhere and at some point, they just started shit-talking.

"Man, I wish coach would just kick Blake out." Ethan groaned, his head falling back. 

"Tell me about it. He's shit at quarterback." Richie clicked his tongue.

"Boys." Rick warned them, partially because his youngest was listening.

"Sorry." They apologized but Irene didn't seem to mind.

"How about…" She chimed in, tapping her finger on her chin, "We scare them?" 

"Like…?" Richie cocked his head, hoping she'd say more than just that.

"I don't know, I just thought it'd be cool since it's Halloween and stuff. And, well, maybe we could use our powers, but I know mama and daddy wouldn't want that." She shrugged, pouting because she hadn't thought it far enough.

"It would be a miracle to scare them without using our powers in the first place," Richie sighed, looking over to his father, "What do you think, dad?" 

No reply.

"Dad?" Ethan followed suit as the three of them raised their brows.

“How far are you in your shadow puppet practice?” Rick asked out of the blue, staring ahead as though imagining whatever idea he had played out. 

“Uh, pretty far, I think? Ma taught us how to merge our shadows into one if we wanted to make a bigger animal.” Richie answered, earning affirmative nods from his siblings. 

“How big?” 

“Like, this big!” Irene opened her arms wide to let him know just how big of a monster they would be able to make if they wanted to. They haven’t, there was no reason to, but the more their father asked, the more it piqued their interest.

Rick thought it through for a moment. It has been a while since he has seen you make that one particular lifeform, but it was worth a shot. If it were able to render Waller speechless, then it’ll definitely make the Bedfords piss their pants. 

No actual attacks, and definitely no killings. But he’ll make sure they shudder at the mere thought of Halloween. Put the fear of God in them. They had it coming, too, stomping on other neighbours’ happiness for years just for the fun of it. 

He just had to play it safe. 

He slowly broke into a sinister smile.

“You three ever heard of a hellhound?”

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

» a/n: ahh hubby rick <3 ;; gorgeous rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

[koji-haru]

Time Travel AU Part: 9

Lucifer slithered between the blades of grass, his small stature masking his presence. Memories from last night flashed within his mind. Those golden eyes, standing out in the darkness, challenging him like a defiant flame. It was on. Lucifer might have initially investigated out of concern and duty (and maybe some revenge), but now his pride was at stake. He was challenged by Adam, and he was not about to back down. He was never too fond of the first man anyway. He was arrogant, acting like he knew better than both him and Lilith. Adam needed to be knocked down a peg or two, and Lucifer was more than happy to oblige. 

First stop was the tree of knowledge of good and evil. Judging from his behaviour, Lucifer was sure Adam had eaten the fruit from the tree. He just had to look for evidence that the tree was tampered with. Signs of a plucked fruit, or leftover from the bitten fruit. Luckily for him, the fruit never rots nor does the tree close its wounds subtly. Signs that a fruit was taken should be obvious to the eye and easy to prove. Honestly, it was almost too easy. 

When Lucifer navigated towards the tree, he was confident of his chances. However, once he arrived, that confidence quickly waned. What greeted him was the tree of knowledge of good and evil in all of its pristine glory. The atmosphere was still, the grass was tall and wildly growing. It was as if the area was stuck in time, untouched by the life outside of its bubble. There was no sign that anyone had been here since the garden was made. Lucifer shook his head. There was no way Adam hadn’t eaten the forbidden fruit. This was just a first impression, and he needed to have a closer inspection. Adam may have covered his tracks well enough, but Lucifer could be meticulous when needed.

Lucifer made his way towards the tree, up its bark, along its many branches. He turned every leaf, inspected every fruit, looked for stubs, even searched amongst the grass for any drop of evidence. And nothing. He looked over everything once more. Twice more. Thrice more. Still, nothing was amiss. It was as if the tree had remained untouched until now. Lucifer couldn’t believe it. Either Adam had perfectly hidden his tracks, or he had never eaten the fruit to begin with. Both explanations were baffling, and yet Lucifer was by the tree, unable to prove otherwise. 

Irritated and confused, but mostly confused, Lucifer eventually made his way back towards the garden’s gate. He wanted to share what he found out so far with Lilith. Perhaps she could provide more insight? She did spend a lot more time with Adam, especially when they were just made. Lucifer sighed. This was a lot more confusing and challenging than he thought it was going to be.

Maybe it was the sun’s rays reflecting off his scales at just the right angle, or maybe it was because he wasn’t paying much attention to the path he was following, either way Lucifer was brought back to reality by the presence of a human. A woman specifically. 

“Oh! I haven’t seen one like you before,” Eve bent down to have a closer look at the small, white snake in front of her. She reached out with her finger, stopping just a few inches away from the snake’s head. “No? Not the affectionate type, are you? That’s alright,” She smiled softly, as she pulled her hand away, opting to instead admire the beautiful snake from a distance.

Lucifer stopped in his tracks, surprised by the second woman’s sudden presence. How did he not notice her? He briefly thought of immediately slithering away, but judging by her demeanour, it seemed like the woman thought he was like any other animal in the garden. In the brief time he had spent lurking in the garden, he had found out that the second woman was from Adam’s rib, not long after Lilith and Lucifer were expelled from Eden. Coming from Adam, Lucifer initially thought she would be similar to him in many ways, and yet whenever her presence caught his eyes, he never detected any form of animosity or ‘unpleasant’ feelings emanating from her. He never got an uneasy feeling from her unlike Adam. Her presence was made of simple innocence and sincerity. Lucifer found it hard to believe that she came from Adam. They were so different in many ways. Honestly, he felt pity for Eve, to have to remain with someone like Adam. It must be unbearable not to have freedom. 

Maybe there was a way he could help her. 

—-

Lucifer eventually made his way back to Lilith. A home amongst the trees, high above the ground, but still covered by the forest canopy. It was their little haven in the massive world that they recently found themselves in. There were many dangers outside the garden, however, his angelic nature alone was enough to deter any predator from approaching. Unfortunately, Lilith was human, and Lucifer, as much as he wanted to, couldn’t always be by her side. And so, while they didn’t need it much, Lucifer used magic to keep his love and their haven perfectly safe from any harm that would ever dare come close. 

As he approached their home, Lucifer was greeted with the sight of Lilith in all of her regal beauty sitting on the balcony, leisurely reading one of the books he had given her. Her blonde hair like silky rays of sun flowing amongst the leaves, her delicately sculpted figure a perfection amongst imperfections, and her amethyst eyes a priceless jewel. She never fails to steal Lucifer’s breath away whenever he gazes upon her image. 

“Something caught your eye?,” Lilith asked, a teasing smile on her lips.

Lucifer nodded, smiling as he flew to sit beside her. “Oh, just the most perfect woman in existence.” He held her hand and placed a soft kiss on it. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” Lilith put down her book to give her full attention to her husband. “You look troubled, what's wrong?”

Lucifer told her of all his findings in the garden. About Adam’s changing behaviour depending on who was present, his recent questionable actions, and the fact that he had seemingly not eaten the fruit of knowledge. How there was evidence in his behaviour, but no traces of it in the garden. It simply seemed impossible. 

“That’s why I’m asking you to remember when Adam may have changed. He couldn’t have always been like this from the beginning.”

Lilith hummed in contemplation, one hand on her chin. When did Adam change? While he did become more and more condescending and controlling as time went on, she didn’t particularly notice any sudden shifts in attitude. To her, Adam had always been unpleasant. 

“Why couldn’t he always have been like that?,” Lilith finally replied.

“What do you mean?”

“Now that I’ve thought more deeply about it, Adam never seemed to have truly cared for me. Did you know he pulled his hand away from me in disgust when we first met? This was after all of the angels left.”

“Really?”

Lilith nodded. “It only went downhill from there. Adam had always been Adam. Yes, he got worse later on, but no abrupt changes. I think it was just him slowly shedding his mask.”

Lucifer looked down at his lap. He didn’t like the conclusion Lilith was leading him down, but she would never lie to him. To question his father’s work. Did God make a mistake when he made Adam? Was there a flaw that Heaven failed to notice? Just the thought itself was blasphemous. Every thought in his body demanded him to banish such thoughts from his mind. To show respect to his father and creator.

“I…don’t believe that Heaven is perfect,” Lilith added. “They did, afterall, punish us for our harmless love.”

The thought gripped onto Lucifer’s mind, unwilling to let go. Lilith was right. Heaven liked to present itself as perfect and fair, when in reality it was not. Lucifer felt the foundations he had always believed in crumbling around him. It was difficult for him to accept this new reality, but he could see it now. Similar to how Lilith was finally able to see the world outside of Eden and God’s plans, Lucifer was finally able to see what Heaven truly was. He held Lilith’s hand in one of his. It was his silent agreement. 

A thought crossed his mind. The image of the second woman being carefree and innocently exploring the cage that disguised itself as paradise. She didn’t know any better, and wouldn’t know any better if things remained the same. 

“I forgot to talk more about it. About Adam’s new wife,” Lucifer brought up.

Lilith quirked an eyebrow. Her gaze told him to go on. Lucifer did briefly mention that Heaven made Adam a new wife, the second woman, and she would be lying to herself if she didn’t admit she was at least curious about her replacement. 

“She was made from one of his ribs…”

“Not from the dust of the earth?”

Lucifer shook his head, “No. And at first, I did think that she would be similar to Adam, being made from him and all, but she’s not like him at all.” He then described his perception of Eve to Lilith. How the second woman was devoid of any ill intent. Her eyes were always full of wonder and excitement as she fully took in everything around her. Always a little too willing and eager to listen to Adam’s whims, like she didn’t know any better. Sure, Adam treated her well enough, but how could he not when Heaven tailor-made a wife for him?

Lilith listened to every word, taking all of this new information in. From what she understood, it seemed that Heaven made the second woman while considering Lilith’s personality. While she was reserved and assertive, Eve seemed to be lively and passive. A little too passive. 

“It’s as if the concept of choice was never built into her,” Lilith added, disgust and anger written all over her face. So that was all Heaven thought of them. Something readily replaceable and to be changed whenever it suited them, like playthings. Why call them perfect in the first place? Lilith clenched her fists tightly. It wasn’t fair at all, for both her and Eve.

“We have to help her. Don’t you think she deserves better? She should, at the very least, be allowed to decide for herself,” Lilith said with finality, her amethyst eyes emboldened by her resentment to Heaven for what they had done. 

This was why Lucifer couldn’t help but love the first woman. She shared his passion and dreams to be able to be who you are with no restraints. She craved true freedom the same way he did. A proud smile crept on his lips, “I knew you would understand. You always do. And yes, we will help her. I’ve got an idea.” 

—-

Lucifer was back in the garden, hiding his presence in the form of various animals. He had two goals now. One, expose Adam’s true nature to Heaven, and Two, give free will to Eve. It sounded simple enough, and yet here was hiding in trees after almost being caught by Michael. Ever since the night that Adam challenged him, the first man had clung to his brother whenever he visited the garden. And wherever Adam was, Eve followed. All three of them were always together, like peas in a pod. 

He wrapped himself on the tree’s branch, his swaying impatiently as he waited for Michael to finally go back to Heaven. He swore that his brother took longer and longer to go back, “Don’t you have more work up there?” 

Suddenly, Lucifer felt himself quickly untangle from the branch and sink towards the ground as something snatched his tail. He forgot the fourth pea in the pod, their pet cat who was weirdly protective of the first man. Amora pinned his scaly body on the ground, yellow eyes looking down on him. If he didn’t know any better, he would say that she looked rather smug. Very like Adam. It was no wonder she had taken a liking to him. 

Amora then placed Lucifer in her mouth, her grip secure, but not deadly, before heading to a sprint towards the trio in the meadow.

“Oh no you don’t!” 

Just as quickly, Lucifer shifted into another animal. Something even smaller. A small, red beetle. And before Amora could bring him to the trio, Lucifer slipped from her jaws, and flew into the air. Way higher up this time. 

When she felt her prey gone from her jaws, Amora stopped abruptly in the middle of the field. Desperately looking around for her prized prey, subsequently catching Adam’s attention. 

“Oof! What’s wrong girl?,” he patted her back when she finally gave up and slumped on him. 

Amora let out a disgruntled growl. Adam understood what that meant. It meant that a weird animal slipped by her again. The weird animal being Lucifer. That was alright though, she at least kept him on his toes and far away enough from both him and Eve. While not as effective as Michael, Amora did keep the snake at bay most of the time.

“She’s been acting odd lately,” Michael commented, looking up as he shifted his focus on the flower halo he was trying to make. Key word tried. It seemed that he found another thing he wasn’t particularly good at. Looking at his sorry excuse of a flower halo, Michael wasn’t even sure why he was still trying at this point. His looked like it could fall apart from a slight breeze, and it was too large and misshapen, its flowers almost crumpled from the amount of times he replaced them. But when Eve invited him to join her and Adam in making flower halos (to be like angels as Eve said), and Adam gave him a perfectly crafted one, that now rested upon his head, and well, he thought he should at least return the favour. That, and Adam’s presence near him, as he taught him what to do and praised his efforts, felt rather… nice. It was like a craving almost fulfilled. A craving that gradually grew more and more potent as the days rolled on. It was also a craving that he couldn’t fully satisfy and shouldn’t. But he would take what he could. 

“Is it her friend again?,” Eve asked.

Adam nodded, “Her friend ran away again.”

The angel had been visiting the garden more frequently, and staying longer as well. Maybe the animals weren’t as comfortable with him as he thought? The other angels in Heaven did say that he had an icy aura sometimes. 

“Maybe her friend is anxious about my presence?”

“I’d say he’s terrified,” Adam snorted inwardly. “Maybe.”

Oh, so his presence was causing some anxiety amongst the garden’s inhabitants. Michael frowned, “I could go if it would make them feel more comfortable.”

Just as he was about to stand and get ready to leave, Adam’s hand shot out to stop him. He had a worried look on his face. “Uh…you haven’t finished your flower halo yet.” His hand left Michael’s forearm and moved onto his shoulder. “Besides, your presence is a comfort.”

Oh dear. That sweet smile and earnest eyes. Michael felt his cravings spike up again, and Adam carelessly was feeding it. 

Michael found it hard to say anything, he eventually found his voice. He cleared his throat, “Alright, I’ll stay.”

Adam pulled back his hand, and Michael already missed the comforting warmth from Adam’s hand. The feel of it lingered on his right forearm and shoulder, etched into memory. 

“Your presence is a comfort.”

Michael smiled to himself. That was nice to know.

Part 8

Part 10

[ratzhatz14]

gimmie lore dump about ur evil sprout au plspslslpslslspslplsplsplsplsplsplsplspsplsplsplspls

*mischievously rubs hands while I write this*

[[so imma just add this silly little spacer for those who dgaf about the lore, and for those who gaf about the lore :D]]

[oh btw this might be a triggering topic??? It's uhhm imprisonment or kidnapping???? Idk what to call it]

ANYWAAAYYSSSSSSSS

I genuinely don't have much lore for the AU, and everything isn't official as of now

It's more like a placeholder? Or just the current ideas I have

*Cutely drops the first ideas*

These were the first designs/ideas (except the last one, I just made it) of the main creatures that'll be focused on

[Quick fact] --- Sprout is keeping Cosmo near him (or captive) 24/7, due to his overprotectiveness crossing the line (maybe mental instability too?), and their "strong" friendship which is basically rotting at this point

Anytoon that tries to free or help Cosmo get away from Sprout will end up rather;

Dead

Injured af

Bloomed (aka what happened to Vee's body)

—————————

For the other toons, I'll do their designs first and THEN think of their mini-lore (I suck ASS at writing)

For the twisteds, I thought I'd keep some ichor (since it's basically their blood) but also give them plant-like features (y'know moss, vines, leafs, thorns, flowers, etc etc whatever)

BTW ; twisteds will only appear per Toons' death :3

(Shelly watch out you're gonna bloom)

—————————

Thank you for coming to my Yapping Session

I'll try to complete it without taking more than a year (Ideas or suggestions are accepted, appreciated, and credited)

Btw you won this <3

(it's from a YouTube video called "The Cosmo Experience" I think? Idk it was a while since I screenshotted this)

[huramuna]

wine red, tears gold - chapter 7, end.

king aegon II x baratheon ofc

previous chapter | next

this is the end! i know i said 2 more chapters after the last, but i really couldn't stretch this into two without losing -- it is hopefully a good ending and does justice for both lyanna and aegon. only one song choice for this chapter as i feel like it encapsulates their relationship to a tee and i've been waiting to use it. even if it isn't you type of music, i'd really recommend reading the lyrics to see what i mean! thank you for following along on this journey with me, this was my first time writing aegon and again, i hope i've done him justice. i enjoyed exploring his complex character immensely and i hope you all enjoyed reading him. enjoy. ❤️ please feel free to leave any aegon requests in my inbox, this won't be the last time i write him, i promise!

word count: 2.7k

please follow & turn on notifs for @huramuna-fics for my fic postings.

content: smut (specifics below cut), canon typical misogyny, canon typical violence, angst, fluff, arranged marriage, touch-staved aegon, aegon isn't a r*pist in this au but he is still a bad person and has his vices, ofc and aegon need to go to therapy together, justice for jaehaera, awkward sex, kind of a slow burn, infidelity, child loss

one day the only butterflies left will be in your chest as you march towards your death - bring me the horizon & amy lee

warnings: p in v

There were few things Lyanna really preferred about King’s Landing over Storm’s End– it smelled of shit and was riddled with vipers, whereas Storm’s End was full of boarish, thick skulled men with blades in place of their brains, less akin to use diplomacy to settle matters but rather their axes. 

King’s Landing diplomacy was the same in a way, except without axes and with barbed tongues, dripping venom behind each carefully placed word. It was a task in itself to keep sane with the amount of people who tried to get something from her– kissing her hands, sending her beautiful dresses, exotic fruits and honeyed words. 

‘Sign this, your grace.’

‘May I possibly have this, your grace.’

‘In exchange, your grace, please, provide us this.’

It was tiring. Soul suckingly so. Some days she felt akin to a lemon with its juices sucked out, nothing left but the skin and seeds and pulp, rotting in the sun. But, she supposed, there was one thing she did like about King’s Landing. 

The sun.

It was resplendent here, unyielding in its warmth and caress over the gentle waves of the bay, orange and yellow tinge lighting up the horizon. She awoke in the morn, scantily clad, walking to her open balcony– but not quite walking out onto the landing– and basking in the sun like a fat cat, moving with the sun as it made its journey over the sky. 

Sometimes Aegon was there, too, following along at her heels like a lost puppy. It was the norm nowadays, over eleven moons since her miscarriage, since Aegon’s confession, since his will to turn over a new leaf. Where Lyanna went, Aegon followed. She held him like a child each night, and they would curl into one another– but they had yet to couple since the miscarriage, both of them maintaining a dry spell for the better part of a year.

 It was a test, in a way, for Aegon. He had denounced spirits and whores and all manner of sinful things, hardly gracing his own chambers anymore, preferring Lyanna’s. But, Aegon was a creature of habit, and always needed something to have, to obsess over as his own. Lyanna was part of that thing, but she kept him at an arm’s length emotionally, partaking in only the need for closeness with him in their bed, skin to skin– but never anything beyond it. Soft caresses, arms held together, one tucked into the other. They didn’t exchange many words during these times, only gentle sighs and hums of contentment, or nudges of discomfort if one’s elbow was poking into the other’s ribs. 

The other thing Aegon had succumbed to was food– he replaced his daily intake of alcohol with food, and filled out quite nicely in turn. Before, he’d been a scrawny thing, the bulk of his daily caloric intake being just alcohol, and the calories burned off in succession with his rigorous trips to the brothel. But now, he ate three meals, each of them with Lyanna, except for breakfast. Breakfast was still reserved only for Alicent, Lyanna and Jaehaera– Aegon would eat in solitude quickly and wait outside of Alicent’s solar, waiting for Lyanna. Where he had shown ribs before, he had gained some mass, filling in his clothes. 

Lyanna quite liked him this way, soft and plush– he was nice to lay upon. 

She knew that he still had needs, as a man, and the time he’d gone without a woman, only using his own fist for pleasure, was certainly long. She was proud of him, in a way, that he overcame his baser instincts to try and better himself. 

But, she felt guilty as well. He would try to make advances, of course, a gentle touch to her bare thigh, a kiss to her neck, an accidental brush to her nipple– all ways that were increasingly enticing for her. She just wasn’t ready, and she made him know that and respect it. 

This usually ended in him sulking to the privy with his tail between his legs, more likely than not to take himself in his fist. 

And so it was, for those months. But a whole year passed since Aeron’s passing– the winds were changing.

–

“The council meeting is adjourned, unless anyone has anything to say otherwise.” Lyanna spoke, adjusting her rings absentmindedly.

Otto Hightower spoke up, clearing his throat. His hair had gone gray in the year’s time, and he was getting on in age– the war in previous years had taken its toll on every surviving member of the family in their own ways, and Otto had been the most adept at hiding it, until it became too much to hide. The previous week, he had been walking the corridors at an ungodly hour, looking for Helaena. His mind was turning against him. “The matter… of succession, your grace. The king should name his heir sooner than later, little Jaehaerys is nearing ten years of age, and is unbetrothed. Mayhaps… we should propose a betrothal to Rhaenyra’s daughter, Visenya.”

The council looked at Otto, their eyes wide. No one breathed, nor said a word; they didn’t know how to deal with such a thing, as Otto was usually the one who dealt with it– his mind, once as sharp as a whip, was now a dulled leather belt. 

Lyanna glanced at Aegon nervously, who sat up in his chair at the mention of Jaehaerys. “Grandsire,” he began, “That is… a splendid idea. I shall send a raven on the morrow to Rhaenyra upon Dragonstone.” 

Otto, in his addled wits, had become fond of Aegon. The old man smiled, nodding. “Good, my boy. Very good. I have no more contestment– I do believe it’s high noon, Aemond and Ser Cole will be in the training yard, so I must depart.”

Lyanna frowned, watching as Otto left. In a way, she felt him losing his mind was a fitting punishment for his culpability in the war. And yet, it pained her to see him so… lost. Like a kite with no strings, floating upon the breeze until it inevitably hits the ground. 

As Otto left, one of the other lords spoke up. “The Hand… does bring a good point, your grace. The matter of succession is still undecided. The… tragedy of the first babe leaves the realm waiting.” 

Lyanna opened her mouth to speak, but Aegon cut her off, leaning forward in his chair. His hair had grown much longer now, past his shoulders in white curls, moving with him as he steepled his hands on the table. “The first babe has a name, Lord Wylde. Aeron, is his name, and you shall address my son as such when speaking of him,” he snapped. “The queen is still recovering from the traumatic ordeal of his birth, and we shall give her the time that she needs. Anyone who speaks a word more of succession shall lose their tongue. My patience for this council’s schemes has ran out. Consider this the only warning.” Aegon pushed off from his chair, snatching his Sunfyre colored ball and stashing it in his pocket. “Council dismissed.” 

Lyanna watched as the lords rushed out of the room hurriedly, each one bowing their head in subservience to the King and Queen. Soon enough, it was just the two of them left. She didn’t speak a word, watching as Aegon paced, his hand twitching. He glanced at Lyanna a few times before walking to her and pulling out her chair. “My lady,” he muttered, his voice somewhat faraway. 

She straightened out her dress, standing up. “Thank you,” she responded, looking up at him. His face was much clearer now, not addled by dark circles under his eyes, nor the constant blush of intoxication. But his eyes themselves were still tired, still haunted. She chewed on the inside of her cheek, reaching out her hand to grasp his. “For dispatching Lord Wylde.” 

Aegon huffed, squeezing his wife’s hand. “I wish they would give it up– as if this whole situation wasn’t the cause of the war in the first place. Blind fucking idiots,” he grumbled, a calloused thumb wafting over her palm. In lieu of going to the brothels, he often would take out Sunfyre for flights, sometimes up to three or four times a day, his hands calloused and blistered from climbing up and down the saddle. 

Lyanna inspected his hand, delicate finger tracing over the blisters– some fresh. “You must wear gloves, Aegon,” she chastised softly, “Your hands have become so rough.” 

“I don’t like gloves, you know that,” he snorted. “They ruin the experience, can’t reach out and touch my boy’s scales, really feel them, with gloves on, now can I?”

Rolling her eyes, she dropped Aegon’s hand from her own. “I suppose not,” she contended, leaning back against the council table. She looked him up and down, her heart still feeling a bit tender from how gallantly he came to Aeron’s defense. The sun shined from the open balcony windows, illuminating his longer curls, and the rubies upon the Conqueror’s crown. His figure was solid, casting a shadow that could only be described as kingly. Lyanna blinked profusely, feeling a long locked away sensation bubble in her stomach, a heat coming to her face. 

“What?” he asked, staring right at her. He had become so attuned to her, as they practically were fused to the hip at every waking moment.

“N-nothing,” she murmured, looking away. If he looked into her eyes, he would see exactly what she was feeling. Desire.

He stepped forward, a hand under her chin as he tipped her head up to face him. Their gazes locked and it only took a moment for him to flash her that dazzling, aggravating, lovely smile. “Do you like my hands soft?”

“... yes.”

His calloused palm rested completely under her jaw now, thumb and forefinger encapsulating her as he tried to eke out the secret she was hiding. “Why is that?”

“Aegon– don’t tease me.” she mumbled, eyes darting everywhere but upon his face. 

“I’m not teasing, merely asking,” he got closer, the smug aura bleeding off of him like a sickly perfume. “Why so bashful, my queen?”

She felt her heart in her throat at their close proximity. They were close at night, even closer than this, but the energy charged around them was… different. It was something that they hadn’t experienced in a long time. Her mind went to how rough their last time had been together, how he fucked her like he hated her, like he hated himself– she didn’t want that now. She wanted… something different. She had to take control now and reel him in, if this was truly going to happen. “You’re teasing,” Lyanna hummed, the mood shifting as she leaned forward, grasping him by the collar of his doublet and pulling him to her. Her knee rested upon his clothed crotch in a testing manner. “Or, am I?”

His entire demeanor changed then, his hand falling from her jaw to rest on her arm. His hunched shoulders slumped as he pressed into her knee, his arousal becoming quite clear. “Y-you are,” he whispered, “my queen.” Aegon’s lip pouted slightly. 

Pulling him downward then, their lips met for the first time in almost a year. It wasn’t aggressive or dominant like before– it was slow and meticulous, as if they were getting used to one another again. He tasted like orange, which he had been snacking on before the meeting. She tasted like lavender tea… it was all so familiar, yet distant. Lyanna’s idea of control slowly faded as they both surrendered to one another, tongues tasting and dancing as if they had all of the time in the world. They were both at each other’s mercy, both gentle as they undressed each other– as much as they could in the council room, anyhow. Lyanna unbuckled his trousers, sliding them down and grabbing a handful of his bottom, which was fleshy and pert now. His hands pulled down her bodice and squeezed at her breasts softly, rolling a nipple between his middle and forefinger. 

It didn’t take much time for Aegon to ruck up her skirts and sink himself into her, slowly. Their mouths parted, still ghosting over one another as they drank in moans and whimpers as he bottomed out. It was still a tight squeeze and a wonderfully intense stretch. They didn’t need to speak, they didn’t want to– both were enjoying one another’s noises; Aegon’s heavy panting, coupled with Lyanna’s breathy moans into his ear. 

They found solace and comfort, truly, for the first time in their marriage. It wasn’t fucking out of duty, nor jealousy, nor hatred. It was… love. It was because they wanted to, because they both wanted one another. 

Because they both loved each other. 

They’d never said it before, but the inkling of it had begun a few months before. Lyanna’s heart clenched as she stared into Aegon’s eyes, wide and violet, so full of devotion as he thrusted into her. It was on the precipice of both of their tongues– something that would change everything. 

“I love you,” Lyanna whispered.

“I love you,” Aegon responded.

It wasn’t a perfect relationship by any means, and was difficult at best. They could never fix each other’s scars, never mend the broken, never resurrect the dead– but, in that moment, as they truly made love for the first time, it became more bearable. 

Isn’t that all that anyone could ask for?

–

Another two years in Westeros passed. The sun was still shining brightly over the horizon, pouring through the glass windows atop the throne room. Hundreds were gathered in the masses from all over the continent. 

Otto had stepped down as Hand and taken a backseat to politics– he wasn’t in the present at all any longer, muttering of the past and beyond, and stayed near his daughter in a wheeled chair, blanket over his legs. 

Alicent had trimmed her hair short and stopped wearing green, rather, matching Lyanna’s choices of gold and white.

Jaehaera stood next to her father, dressed in blue and white, like her mother always wore. 

Aegon didn’t sit on the throne, but stood in front of it, hand on the small of Lyanna’s back. 

Lyanna pressed close to Aegon and Jaehaera, holding a babbling one year old upon her hip with one arm. A son– named Rhaenor, who had a head of white curls, and deep brown eyes. Her other hand was caressed on her stomach, which was swollen once again with child.

“I’d like to thank you all for gathering here today,” Aegon started, his voice booming through the throne room, silencing any chatter. “There has been some speculation on when the queen and I would formally name our heir. I won’t keep the realm waiting any longer. I, Aegon of House Targaryen, second of my name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm– formally name my heir,” he paused for a moment, ever basking in the moment. “Jaehaera Targaryen will succeed me as the ruler of the realm.”

There were whispers in the crowd but they were once again silenced. “We shall not repeat the errors of the past. My word and decree now is just and binding, not to be rescinded. My son, Rhaenor, will not succeed me, nor any other sons or children of mine. Jaehaera Targaryen is my heir.”

–

Jaehaera Targaryen succeeded Aegon Targaryen, second of his name, after he abdicated the crown at age sixty-two, focusing on helping dragons make a return after the near decimation of them from the Dance. He, with the help of his son Rhaenor, hatched five dragon eggs upon the Dragonmount, saving them from near extinction.

Aegon passed in his sleep at age eighty-five, surrounded by his five children and dozen grandchildren, as well as his fiercely loyal wife, Lyanna. 

Lyanna passed one moon after Aegon. 

Her dreams became real– she was young again, toes dipped in the pond with Aeron next to her, and Aegon next to him.

A few more figures approached from the darkness near the edges of the pond, white haired and violet eyed. 

[audaciousanonj]

bestie i NEED to know what's up with gai in your rotted leaf au

Well, first off he's quieter.

Like, Gai may appear to not know how he comes off as, but he does. It's just that he has the self-confidence to know that there's nothing wrong with a love of life and a tacky jumpsuit. Tactless words, however...

Yes, Konoha is currently very unyouthful! It has very low morale, an unethical traitor scientist recently returned like nothing happened, and a general air of mistrust between people who should be comrades!

Konoha is also currently very unyouthful! Itachi killed many of them, and then Kakashi killed almost all of the rest!

Gai is much quieter nowadays, in this Autumn.

Second, he understands where Kakashi is coming from! His logic is valid to Gai... but it is not sound. Gai understands how Kakashi could believe that life is suffering, but Gai rejects that premise, and so, rejects the conclusion.

If Kakashi had come to Gai before he did anything, Gai would have made him see that killing Gai when they were both Genin would have prevented Gai from the achievement of becoming the Taijutsu Master he is now, and would Kakashi really take that from him? And so, Kakashi would have broken out of his mindset, and possibly even agreed to see a Yamanaka, and Gai would still have his eternal rival.

But Kakashi killed all those children, and to break him out of the mindset that let him do it would be to simply break him. There is no cure, now that the symptoms have progressed so far.

Right now, his rival is the happiest he's ever been. Kakashi has returned to an almost childlike innocence because the world finally makes sense, and all the bad things in life have a simple solution that Kakashi doesn't even have to rely on other people to use.

There is no malice here, only madness.

But a rabid dog doesn't become safe just because it's not aggressive.

And once the symptoms of rabies start showing, there's only one thing you can do.

Gai and the ninken agree: Kakashi needs to be put down.

(Ironic, isn't it?)

Third, have some Gai Facts!

Fact 1: He is not a Sensei. (Team 9 graduated a year before Sasuke, who graduated at 12. Sasuke is 7 when the Uchiha Massacre happens. Sasuke is 8 or 9 when Rotted Leaf starts, 18 months after the Uchihan't, (well. was 8 or 9.), making it 2-3 years before Team 9 would have graduated and gotten Gai as a Sensei.)

Fact 2: He is in communication with the ninken (they both think Kakashi is a Good Dog who has been Infected By Rabies)

Fact 3: He's one of the most mentally healthy people in Konoha (as per all my au), but given that this is the Rotted Leaf? That's about as mentally healthy as one of canon Kakashi's good days.

Not that much to say, except that despite the script calling for Iruka to be the one to take down Kakashi (for story reasons), I really think Gai would be an acceptable alternate (for character reasons)...

[kthyg]

ghoul. — (consign)

[SIXTH INSTALMENT OF GHOUL SERIES : CONSIGN]

"Kiss your clean record goodbye." Provocation or prediction.

or

S2 squad went to the 13th ward for a Wipe Out Operation but didn't expect to encounter an Owl in the midst of the operation.

pairing. jungkook x reader, hoseok x reader, jin x reader (ft. myg & pjm)

rating. M

genre. tokyo ghoul au, soulmate au, gore, violence, mass attack

disclaimer. this story is a work of fiction. descriptions of the BTS members in this story does not reflect nor portray them in real life. everything in this story only fits in imagination and does not apply outside of imagination.

warning. lots of bloodshed (mostly spilled from the ghouls :/), depiction of people (doves) getting killed ruthlessly by the Owl and killing methodology was described.

word count. 5k+

lexicon & profiles . masterpost . masterlist . navigation

note from winter 💌

sorry for the long disappearance </3 but er hey, a brand new banner for ghoul!! beta read by loyal beta reader @zyphqr <3 this is just a short one maybe can be counted as a filler chapter too, but it will make do. hope you guys enjoy this <33 and u lots might not notice, but i kind of changed my writing style a bit? I think consign has got to be the most elaborated fic I've ever written cause those detailed words? idk how my brain came up with that but I'm proud of this one

💌 what is winter listening to? in sequence; D-DAY, Interlude: Dawn, HUH?!, AMYGDALA. (All by Agust-D)

📑 if you want to know more about this au, you can refer to lexicon & profiles. any other questions you can refer to me !!

dedication. a gift to all of my readers.

The urban avenue of Seoul tonight was oddly still, with only sporadic leaf rustling in the soft breeze breaking the silence. The streetlights emitted a pale light illuminating the desolate pathway and generating a creepy ambience that felt unsettling. The towering edifices on both sides of the street looked imposing and austere, with dark windows and walls stained by the wear of time. In Seoul, quiet streets like this one often serve as a warning sign, hinting at the stillness that precedes a night of horror and violence.

This only served as a warning that hazards could present in any situation, even in the calmest and most tranquil circumstances.

The only sounds that interrupted the quietness were the faraway noise of cars and the faint footsteps’ echoes. A stray feline would occasionally scuttle across the street, eyes gleaming, barely visible in the low light. Despite the peacefulness of the evening, the street’s stillness felt unusual and peculiar. A strong odour of rot and other, more ominous scents, detectable only by those with heightened senses, hung heavily in the air. An enduring sensation of peril seemed to permeate the surroundings, giving the impression of being under surveillance by something lurking in the shadows. The silence was broken by the occasional sound of shattering glass or the screech of metal against metal. A car alarm would blare for a few moments before falling silent once more.

These sounds, too, added to the unease that hung in the air, hinting at the possibility of danger lurking in the darkness.

For those who knew of the existence of ghouls, quiet streets would be even more unsettling. People would be acutely aware that a ghoul could lurk somewhere in the shadows, watching, waiting for its next victim. The silence of the street, combined with the faint scent of blood in the air, would make them feel like they were walking on thin ice, with danger lurking around every corner.

The 13th ward, Seochu-gu.

The pale moonlight bathed the ward where ghouls were recently reported to be lurking in the shadows. The usually bustling streets were now empty, only to be filled in by a large group of doves - some dressed in formal KCCG attire while others were heavily armed. Operating vehicles and drones were also present, adding to the sense of preparation and anticipation in the air. As Jung Hoseok, the Chief Director of Division II, approached, the sound of footsteps echoed through the night, accompanied by the presence of bureaus.

“Alright, good evening, doves,” Hoseok spoke, his voice firm and commanding. “I, Jung Hoseok, Chief Director of Division II, will be leading today’s Wipe Out Operation that is to be conducted here in the 13th ward.”

You and another four supreme investigators stood at attention, listening to Hoseok’s every word. “Operating squad involved in this operation will only be the Supreme Squad S2 and 75 Bureaus. Other than S2 and Bureau Investigators are required to leave the scene. Failed to do so and get caught by S2 squad members, the bureaus, or me, will receive disciplinary action.” Everyone present at the scene nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. Hoseok continued, “Commencing roll call on S2 squad. Please present your weapon.”

Each member stood tall and proud, eyes scanning the surrounding area for any signs of danger. The atmosphere was tense, and they knew they were about to embark on a dangerous mission. Finally, Hoseok began calling out names; each member stepped forward to present their weapon.

“Present as always.” A soulful voice spoke with confidence.

The roll call started with Jeon Jungkook, the Branch Director of 2nd Ward, as he confidently presented his weapon, the Angel Beat, an SS-rated Ukaku type known for its incredible speed and accuracy. Min Yoongi stepped forward with a bored, unbothered expression and presented his weapon, the 13’s Jason, a Rinkaku type rated S+. 13’s Jason was one of the most potent weapons in their arsenal, and Min Yoongi knew how to use it to devastating effect.

As the roll call continued, Park Jimin, another Special Class member, stepped forward proudly with his charming smile, “Never not present,” and presented his weapon, the IXA, a Koukaku type that was rated S+.

Kim Seokjin, your fellow Associate Special Class, followed suit, responded upon his name being called and presented his weapon, the Narukami, an S+-rated Ukaku type known for its incredible range and power.

Finally, your name was called out. Your grip tightened on your quinque as you presented your weapon, the Aus, a Rinkaku-type rated S+. The Aus was a fearsome weapon known for its speed and agility, and you had spent countless hours training with it to hone your skills. As the roll call came to a close, you stood steady, weapon at the ready.

Hoseok looked around at his team, impressed by their impressive arsenal. “Total of five members. Weapon rating from SS to S+.”

He then briefed the investigators on the operation. “This operation aims to cleanse the 13th ward off ghouls. It was brought to our attention that quite a number of ghouls have been roaming in this ward. Expect every worst possibility as the data collected by the bureaus have shown that several S+ rated ghouls are hiding in this ward.”

“Movement will be in personal formation with 15 Bureaus as back-ups. I will be assisting each one of you through the earpiece and monitoring through the drones.”

The investigators nodded, preparing themselves for the dangerous mission ahead. Hoseok gave them a nod of approval. “Doves, fight with your all. Best of luck,” he said before giving the signal.

“Operation commences.”

With a nod from your leader, the five of you set out into the dark night, ready to fight for justice and protect the citizens of the 13th ward from the threat of ghouls. You moved out, determined to eliminate the ghouls that lurked in the darkness. As all of you moved through the eerie streets of the 13th ward, the tension in the air was felt by everyone. The sound of footsteps echoed loudly as if warning any lurking ghouls of the doves’ presence. Jungkook took point, his Angel Beat quinque ready in his grip. He scanned the area, searching for any signs of movement.

“Clear,” he informed Hoseok, his voice crackling through your earpiece too.

As Jungkook ventured to his chosen route, the rest of the team moved forward, staying in formation before breaking into personal formation. Your squad moved deeper into the ward, searching every nook and cranny for any sign of ghoul activity. The tension was palpable, as all of you knew that any misstep could mean certain death or injury.

To describe Wipe-Out Operation with one word would be unpredictable. This operation was assigned to the Supreme Squad for a reason. Given the unpredictability, KCCG only sent out Associates Special Class and above to prevent any unwarranted damages, and it was usually conducted and supervised by Division Chief Director, Hoseok or Namjoon, according to the wards involved. KCCG strictly prohibited any ranks lower than Associate Special and Special from participating in the operation, no matter how great and exceptional one’s skills were.

It was the experience that counted, at least according to the KCCG’s higher-ups.

“Remaining doves, split into pairs,” Hoseok commanded. “The headquarters sent a newly found vision radar of the 13th ward, and the Rc levels are increasing. Jungkook, be informed. I will send out more bureaus to your side.”

“Very well.” His voice echoed in your earpiece following Hoseok.

“Bureaus, load your Q-bullets,” he ordered, stern and commanding.

The bureaus sprang into action, their movements quick and efficient. They reached for their bullet cases, deftly loading their Q-bullets into their quinques. The sound of the bullets clicking into place was the only noise in the silent night as they prepared themselves for the upcoming operation. They stood in line as they finished loading, waiting for the following order. Each one was ready for whatever lay ahead, their minds focused and their hearts beating with anticipation.

“Weapons are to be fired upon the orders of your respective formation leaders,” Hoseok instructed one last time before going off the communication system.

Suddenly, Yoongi urged you to follow him, “Let’s go (Y/N).”

Noticing the confusion on Jimin’s face, he clarified the situation by pointing out that it wouldn’t be a good idea to form a team with two associates and two special classes.

“In that case, you can take Jin,” Jimin countered, crossing his arms.

Yoongi scoffed, “Damn. Did I miss a notice stating that (Y/N) is your partner again?” He then grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards the other side of the ward, leaving Jimin fuming with anger and Jin puzzled.

As you and Yoongi turned to a corner, a loud noise erupted. The two of you stopped any movements, weapons raised as a reflex. You knew better than to speak out loud, so you waited with bated breath. Suddenly, a figure leapt out from the shadows.

It was a ghoul.

Its Kagune gleamed in the dim light and moved at a thunder-like speed, but before the ghoul could even reach the two of you, Yoongi had already unsheathed his jagged quinque. His quinque sliced through the air with deadly accuracy as he pivoted on his heel and swung, slicing through its kagune. The ghoul stumbled backwards, blood gushing from the wound on its side. Yoongi didn’t give it a chance to recover, though. He pressed forward, striking blow after blow with his quinque.

The ghoul crumpled to the ground with a loud thud, lifeless.

You stood back, watching as Yoongi wrenched the blood off his weapon and rested it on his shoulder. You weren’t oblivious to the fact that Yoongi was the most ruthless, quick-witted investigator ever to be born in KCCG. But at that moment, you wished he was anything but those. The ghoul you and Yoongi had encountered was a lone male ghoul. But it wasn’t that fact that made you hesitant.

He looked terrified. Eyes wide with fear.

It wasn’t the fear of being found by doves.

The fear in his eyes was present even before the pair of you arrived. He was about to say something before Yoongi killed him. You didn’t miss the tremble of his lips. “He was trying to tell something.” You approached the dead body.

Yoongi crouched down beside you and examined the ghoul’s face. “It doesn’t matter now.”

You frowned; you couldn’t shake the feeling that you might have missed something important. You scanned the area to see if there were other ghouls nearby, but there weren’t any. You and Yoongi moved forward cautiously. The streets of the 13th ward were silent. The moon shone down the deserted road, casting an eerie glow on the surroundings. As you and your partner walked further into the area, Yoongi suddenly stopped in his tracks, causing you to do the same.

The sound of footsteps echoed in the distance, approaching you rapidly.

Yoongi swung his quinque, ready for use, a menacing look on his face. You followed suit, grip on your weapon tightening. The footsteps grew closer, and you could see the silhouette of three figures approaching your direction with crazed expressions on their faces, ready to attack.

Without hesitation, Yoongi charged forward, striking one of the ghouls with a swift blow from his quinque. They clashed back and forth, Yoongi using his agility to dodge the ghoul’s attacks and strike back with his 13’s Jason. Each time he landed a hit, the ghoul would let out a pained growl, but it only seemed to make it more aggressive.

But it made Yoongi scoff.

He found it funny how the ghoul tried to act mighty and strong when he could easily detach the head from the neck with bare hands. Yoongi fought the creature with a clear stance and graceful movements as if he was performing a dance.

A deadly dance.

He was, after all, a killing machine masking as a delicate doll.

The remaining two turned their attention to you. The male ghoul was massive, towering over you with impressive height and a menacing expression. His kagune, a long tentacle-like appendage, whipped through the air as it prepared to attack. He lunged forward, forming his kagune into a claw; he aimed at your chest. But you quickly dodged the attack, stepping to the side and bringing your Aus up in a defensive stance. He snarled and attacked again.

Yoongi launched a powerful attack with his kagune, slicing through the ghoul’s torso and causing him to fall to the ground with a thud. He dragged his quinque painfully slow through the ghoul’s body as more blood flowed out. He lazily turned his head toward your direction. You were fighting two ghouls, but he didn’t have any intention of helping you, so he continued playing with the dead body.

You can handle them…

Probably, he shrugged.

With a swift movement of your wrist, you sliced through the ghoul’s arm, causing him to screech in pain and recoil. The second one finally jumped into the fight. She was relentless, her kagune striking out again and again, but you were unyielding, dodging, blocking, and attacking with unflinching determination. She charged at you upon seeing her friend being taken down, but again, you instinctively dodged to the side, swinging your quinque in a wide arc. She was fast, but you were quicker as you blocked and deflected her attacks while landing blows of your own. Your weapon finally made heavy contact with the ghoul’s flesh, spraying a shower of blood into the air. She howled in pain, but you couldn’t feel any sympathy; instead, you could feel a rush of adrenaline.

Suddenly, the injured male lunged forward with lightning speed, his kagune striking at you with deadly force. You looked at him with a condescending smirk, “A strong one, aren’t you?”

It was almost psychotic how your tone sounded because nothing could’ve prepared your opponents for your sudden move. Your quinque pierced through the ghoul’s flesh in a blink of an eye, and he let out a final howl before collapsing to the ground, dead.

It took the female one off guard, but you didn’t give her time to recover as you jumped over her head and delivered a powerful kick to its back. She was sent flying with great force; probably broke a few bones and damaged some areas of skin. You looked down at her spasming figure with malice and plunged your Aus into her back, ending her life immediately.

The bureaus under your command had shocking looks on their faces. They exchanged glances with each other as if realising that you were not to be underestimated. Of course, they had always heard the praises that fell from the lips of the higher-ups that you were a skilled investigator, but seeing you in action was entirely another thing.

“New recruits?” Yoongi’s voice was calm and collected, betraying no hint of emotion as he finished off the ghoul he was handling just now.

He did detach the head from the neck.

The bureaus’ complexion paled, every colour drained at the horrendous sight before them.

“Right, I forgot bureaus don’t kill all the time,” because it was clear that killing ghouls was just another day in the life of a KCCG investigator.

Suddenly, a shiver ran down your spine as you caught a glimpse of a figure moving in the corner of your eye. It has to be a mistake. A low growl echoed through the hallway, causing the team to freeze. They knew that sound all too well - it was the sound of a ghoul.

Not just an ordinary ghoul.

“It’s the Owl.”

Yoongi’s voice was the last thing you heard before the explosive sound of the Owl crashing on the ground, announcing its presence and causing debris to rain down on everyone. The heavy feelings that have been crawling on your back. The first ghoul you had encountered, the terror and fear in his eyes.

The three ghouls that were killed.

They died in the hands of doves instead of the Owl.

It was unintentional that they encountered us.

They were running away from the grim reaper but still stumbled on death’s door.

“Take cover!” You commanded the bureaus, grabbing the nearest to you by the arm and pulling them towards the most immediate cover. You and Yoongi were split as he jumped toward the right side. You positioned yourself in front of the female bureau you had pulled with you, shielding her from any potential danger.

The Owl planned all of this. None of these were coincidences.

Reaching for your ear device, you contacted Hoseok, “Emergency code red-O, triple S; Yong. Location, North–”

“Bureaus, fire!”

Upon Yoongi’s command, the bureaus opened fire on the Owl. The air was filled with the sound of gunfire and the whistling of projectiles. But the bullets seemed to have no effect on it. The Owl grew even more enraged and began to thrash about wildly. Its tentacles flailed out in every direction, knocking over walls and sending debris flying through the air.

What the fuck?

Why is he provoking Yong?!

Owls were immune to Q-bullets; sometimes, even quinque does no damage. He should know that.

“Fall back!” You shouted through the chaos, but your command fell on deaf ears. The sound of the continuous firing prevented your voice from reaching your comrades. You scrambled to dodge the tentacles and find another safe cover. You could feel the ground shaking beneath you as Owl continued to wreak havoc on the ward. The dangerous creature let out a deafening screech. Its eyes glowed red as it turned its attention toward the bureaus. It flapped its kagune and leapt into the air, swooping down towards them with incredible speed. The armed investigators scattered desperately, trying to avoid the creature’s deadly tentacles.

“Investigator Min, we need to–”

Yong pounced on a group of bureaus, slashing and tearing with its razor-sharp appendages. They screamed in terror as the beast’s relentless assault tore them apart. Some were still shooting and firing in hopes of distracting or even injuring – just a minor wound on the Owl, but despite their best efforts, the attacks seemed only to enrage the Owl further. It seemed almost invincible, unstoppable in its rage. Its attacks became increasingly ferocious, and the investigators found themselves quickly losing ground.

You turned to your partner in terror, hoping he would just look you in the eyes and bellow a command. “Min Yoongi – !” Except he was not in his spot.

The Owl turned around just in time to block your superior’s attack with its own kagune. It countered with a devastating strike that nearly took Yoongi off his feet.

“Yoongi, Hoseok is on the way. We need to retreat first!” You tried to reach him again while trying to gather the bureaus. The situation was already chaos at its finest; Yoongi definitely didn’t need to add up to it.

With a violent swing of his 13’s Jason, Yoongi charged forward once more, his quinque gleaming in the dim light of the ward. The two engaged in an intense battle, their weapons clashing with each other in a violent symphony. He lunged at the Owl, his quinque slashing through the air toward the ghoul’s head. But no matter how skilled Yoongi was, Owl was no easy opponent, and it had yet to unleash its full power.

Yoongi was not Namjoon.

Not even Hoseok.

Skills unmatched.

Yong’s eyes glowed with malice. Sidestepping the attack, it launched itself towards Yoongi; massive kagune extended, robust scale-red slashed through the air and to his abdomen. Yoongi stumbled back as blood seeped through his shirt.

He cursed under his breath, looking down at his open wound. His stamina was decreasing significantly from all those attacks and defences. But his body had long entered survival mode; he was far from exhausted. The Owl that stood in front of him, he knew very well.

The same Owl that caused a riot and havoc back in his hometown.

The very same Owl that became the reason why he was in KCCG instead of living happily with his family.

The one and only Owl that was responsible for his first ever traumatic event.

The fucking Owl that–

“Yoongi, dodge!” You slammed your body toward Yoongi without thinking twice the moment you saw his eyes go blank. You’ve seen that Yoongi way too many times. The Yoongi that would be deep in thought and stare into nothingness when you passed by his office. The only moment where he would show vulnerability unconsciously, and you knew how much he hated it– because you hated it too– but that always happened in the KCCG building and never, ever during a mission.

The collision between your body and Yoongi’s was extremely powerful that it sent him flying to the other side, to a safer side. His eyes finally met yours as his train of thought was interrupted. The worried expression on his face was the first you ever saw in your time working with him as he screamed your name with great desperation. You could swear you saw his eyes turn glossy before you were sent flying.

You pushed him just in time but were a second late to dodge the Owl’s full-force attack. Your Aus managed only to cover your torso as the Owl’s movement was too quick for your reflex. Your whole body met with the Owl’s heavy blow.

Since when does getting hit by your own quinque hurt like bitch? “S-shit…”

Your body was numb.

Hey, at least you’re not feeling pain.

Better than feeling the pain like someone was taking away your soul.

“Oh, my lady,” A voice reached your ears, although it was very faint due to the impact your body had experienced. You knew whose voice it was. “Do you recognise me?”

It was Hoseok.

You blinked twice as a yes.

“Good girl.” Weirdly you could feel his gentle stroke on your hair. His warmth reached your cold, numbing body. You wanted to close your eyes. “I need you to stay with us until you reach the hospital. Can you do that for me?”

You were tired. You didn’t think you could comply with this order.

“I know you’re tired and hurt, (Y/N), but I need you to just stay conscious. Jin will keep you company. I will take over everything from here. Take a rest, but please stay alive.”

The next thing you know, Jin was already on your side with a worried expression. “(Y/N), hang on there. The ambulance is on the way.” He stroked your hair with his rough, calloused hand – probably due to handling those heavy killing weapons. Your hands were no different. In fact, all ghoul investigators were bound to roughen their hands.

With the quinques.

And with blood.

Oh, are you regretting your decision, (Y/N)?

Never.

“Stay with us, (Y/N),” you heard Jungkook’s voice. Quinque was thrown to the side as he kneeled next to you. You swore his force could’ve injured his knees, but he didn’t seem to care at all by the looks of it. His eyes were only on you. Pupils dilated in fear. Hands and lips trembled as he spoke. “It must’ve hurt a lot, Sakura.”

Sakura.

“Yeah,” you said with minimal energy. “It hurts a lot, Koo.”

Jimin arrived last at the scene. He was out of breath from the sprinting he did when he received Hoseok’s assembly order. His eyes first landed on your half-alive body before the sight of the hideous monster caught his eyes.

Yoongi and (Y/N) couldn’t be that stupid to try and take the Owl down.

One was a half-ghoul, and another one was pure human.

“Oh, Yong Owl,” Hoseok had left your side, hands stuffed in his pockets and walked towards Yoongi, ordering the other fellow Supreme Squad members to follow him with bureaus at the ready. “It’s been a while, don’t you think?”

Yong Owl.

That name caught Jimin’s attention. When Hoseok commanded him to come here, he wasn’t informed which Owl was at the scene; only his rate was told. Jimin pushed back his hair from his forehead. He so badly wanted to burst into a loud laugh. He let his hand stay on his face longer but couldn’t contain the vicious smirk tugging on his lips at the realisation. Of course, it wasn’t you that could be so stupid in this situation.

You were the result of Yoongi’s stupidity.

Yong wasn’t some random Owl. Of course, he wasn’t, even for KCCG. But Yong was especially not some random Owl for Yoongi.

Jungkook hesitated to walk away from you but got on his feet and stood next to Jin with a concerned face for a few seconds. You were, after all, a Jeon. He couldn’t bear to see his family in pain and let the assaulter run away. He was torn between staying by your side or taking down Yong Owl. Jimin slung his hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, pulling the younger with him heading towards the Owl.

Yong was the murderer of Yoongi’s family.

“We’ll be right back, (Y/N),” Jimin sent you a wink. A smirk followed shortly after as he continued. “After this, no more danger you can’t take on will come your way.”

Silly Yoongi, but thank you for the opportunity, soulmate.

“Didn’t expect to see me?” Hoseok smiled. “I know you wish to have encountered Namjoon instead because he always lets you go unscathed, worried for his teammates.”

Yong took a step back as the Chief Director took a step forward. Hoseok was known for his ruthlessness, and that fact was well-learned even for ghouls, even for Owls. While he seemed like the most gentle and caring person, the fact was that he was still a ghoul investigator. His motto in KCCG was to kill with passion. He has worked for KCCG for the longest among everyone. His entire bloodline was born only to serve KCCG for the betterment of the world.

Most Owls have their own hideouts that were undetectable by KCCG; hence it was unlikely for Owls to bump into the doves. Moreover, Owls always stayed lowkey.

“But things work differently for me. You bark, I bite.”

A bureau walked towards Hoseok to hand him a quinque suitcase. Jimin whistled at the sight. He knew what was in that. Heck, it even looked different than any other quinque suitcase.

It was the legendary quinque.

It was the quinque imported from CCG, Japan. Previously wielded by Kishou Arima, the legendary ghoul investigator before he died, since then, the quinque has been stored in CCG’s top secret room. It was only recently an evaluation was done to hand over the quinque to worthy hands and make use of it. Hoseok was invited to take part in the evaluation and easily scored the highest. The quinque was named Owl, created from a kakuhou torn out of the Non-Killing Owl during the battle against Arima. Crafted with precision and designed for devastating efficiency, it possessed an air of elegance despite its deadly purpose. It was the only known SSS-rated quinque and the only one known to be created from a living ghoul. 

“Unlucky for you; you hurt my favourite person.” Hoseok shook his head in disappointment as he was just scolding a child for his wrongdoing. He activated the suitcase, and immediately, it transformed into the Owl.

The Owl quinque was a masterpiece of engineering, combining intricate craftsmanship with advanced technology. Its appearance was both captivating and haunting, resembling a pair of oversized metallic wings. The wings were adorned with intricate patterns and etchings, reflecting the meticulous attention to detail put into its creation. The surface of the quinque gleamed with a metallic sheen, hinting at its superior strength and durability. The blade of the quinque was razor-sharp, capable of easily slicing through flesh and exoskeleton. Its edges were finely honed and meticulously maintained, ensuring maximum combat-cutting efficiency.

But it was not just its physical attributes that made the Owl quinque so formidable. Within its core lay a unique and deadly mechanism. With a simple flick of a switch, the quinque would unleash its true power. The wings would unfold, revealing hidden compartments and mechanisms, each serving a specific purpose in enhancing combat capabilities. The Owl quinque was known for its incredible speed and agility. It allowed its wielder to move with astonishing swiftness, striking down enemies in a flurry of precise and lethal attacks. Its versatility was unmatched, enabling the wielder to seamlessly transition between offensive and defensive maneuvers, easily adapting to any situation.

Moreover, the quinque possessed a unique ability to absorb and manipulate the kagune, the potent weapon of the ghouls. It could absorb the kagune’s energy and redirect it with devastating force, turning the enemy’s own power against them. This ability allowed the wielder to effectively counter even the most formidable opponents, turning their strength into their downfall.

The sheer power and elegance of the Owl quinque made it a symbol of Arima’s skill and prowess as a CCG investigator. Its reputation preceded it, striking fear into the hearts of ghouls and admiration in the minds of fellow investigators.

It was a weapon of legend, capable of rewriting the course of battles and leaving a trail of destruction in its wake.

Weapon at ready, Hoseok began again, “I don’t want your death.”

In the hands of Arima, the Owl quinque became an extension of his own being. It embodied his relentless determination and unwavering resolve in the face of darkness. With each swing and strike, he delivered justice with chilling precision, carving a path through the ghouls that dared to challenge him, and it was about to be the same for Hoseok.

The legend of the Owl quinque would be relived in his hands.

“Your scream when I extract fragments of you in Cochlea sounds more satisfying.”

And he would start by painting the blood of Yong on the quinque.

All rights reserved © 2023 kthyg. Do not copy, translate, modify or repost without permission. Feedback is very much appreciated. It keeps me motivated! Send me an ask!

[wongyuseokie]

Leaf Me Alone | j.w.w

Summary: Jeon Wonwoo is the newest hire at your flower shop, and he’s handsome, tall and painfully shy, and worst of all, in the last three months, you’ve exchanged three whole sentences and nods, you never know what he’s thinking, but you can’t help but wonder if he’s annoyed by your presence.  pg |☀︎fluff | ☁︎ mild angst |  ♥ completed work Word Count: 1814 words

Age: PG

Pairings: Jeon Wonwoo x Female Reader

Genre/Trope(s)/AUs: Fluff, hints of angst, reader rightfully thirsts over Wonwoo.

Content Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff and miscommunication, but it is lowkey cute.

Smut Warnings: None, really, another tooth-rotting fluff fic.

Authors Note: I took inspiration from how introverted Wonwoo is, it’s incredibly endearing to me, but it’s also something that I worry that, as an extrovert, I’ll scare off any introverted person I meet. So, I just wanted to explore that idea. It’s very self-serving and fluffy 💕 Authors Note 2: Thank you so so much, my lovely @here4btsfics. For just hearing me go on and on about Wonwoo like every day and encouraging me with this story and yelling me to post it, I adore you dearly and thank you so much for helping me beta this too!! Thank you to @defwoodz for always reading over this and clowning me. Banner Credits: @classicseffects Cross Posted to AO3 © wongyuseokie 2022. All rights reserved.

Three Months Ago,

“Finally, this is Y/N, my daughter. She runs the shop most days. Y/N, this is Wonwoo, our newest hire,” your mum spoke as she introduced you to a tall and handsome man with a shy smile gracing his face. 

“Hi, Wonwoo. Nice to meet you!” You greeted him enthusiastically, making him grin more shyly before he greeted you.

“You too,” you responded, his voice deep and resonating, it was deeper than the ocean, honestly, and you were convinced that this man would be the reason you finally understood what a work crush meant. 

Wonwoo smiled at you once more before following your mother around the flower shop for a tour, and you smiled back at him. So, what if he was shy at first? Wasn’t everyone? You were sure that throughout working together, you two would be able to develop a friendship at least. 

Your hopes of developing a friendship were shot to smithereens when you realised that Wonwoo was not only very shy but also very diligent. Never one to engage in non-work-related conversations during work hours and over the three months, he’d been working. You both exchanged roughly three whole sentences. 

“Stop staring and ask him if he wants a coffee or something,” your mum whispered, making you yelp and pout at her. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” you defended weakly, making your mother grin at you. 

“Those heart eyes can be seen from a mile away. Just ask him if he wants to grab a coffee or something. He seems like a sweet kid,” your mother encouraged, and you shrugged. 

“So sweet that he doesn’t speak?” You asked, and your mother just smiled at you. 

“He might not feel comfortable starting a conversation, but that doesn’t mean he can’t hold one or have one. It just means he might need someone else to start it sometimes. Plus, he’s the new one here, go,” your mother explained, giving you a slight nudge making you pout more as you walked over slowly towards Wonwoo’s station. 

Honestly, looking the way he did was a crime. You often thought this, his captivating features, often making him look cold or unapproachable, paired with a faded apron and his long fingers delicately arranging flowers into a bouquet, it all looked like something out of a romance novel. He was the mysterious, cold, but soft guy, and you were the wide-eyed girl who could only admire the man you knew nothing about. 

“Hey!” You greeted as you walked over to stand opposite Wonwoo. 

“Oh, Y/N, hi, you, okay? I heard you, I think, squeaking over there?” Wonwoo joked, and you grinned at him. 

Wonwoo, while shy, had his moments. You knew he could be funny and had a harmless and silly sense of humour, and it endeared to you dearly. 

“Yeah, my mum was talking to me, anyways I was wondering if you’d be free for a coffee or tea?” You asked quickly, and Wonwoo nodded. 

“Sure! I was looking for a boost. Where do you fancy going?” Wonwoo asked, and you smiled at him before suggesting a place. 

It worked! You thought it was fine, and you and Wonwoo would now be friends, and it was all because you mustered up the courage to speak to him. 

Three Weeks Later 

Since the coffee trip, you and Wonwoo had gotten closer. You were getting to know him. You knew his favourite colour and what he’d do if he was upset. Wonwoo was so many things, but there was still a wall up, something you couldn’t get past. He wouldn’t let you in completely, but you had a trick up your sleeve. 

“Wonwoo, you know they say that you can tell much about someone based on their favourite things?” You stated lamely, and Wonwoo looked up from his floral arrangement to stare at you nodding slowly, humouring you. 

“Yes?” He replied unsurely. 

“Well, what’s your favourite flower?” You asked, and Wonwoo paused to think about it. 

“I don’t think I have one,” Wonwoo answered. 

You work in a flower shop. Your plan was failing because he didn’t have a favourite flower. You hoped he’d answer. 

“Doesn’t mean I need to have a flower,” Wonwoo answered, and you pouted, and you missed the way he smiled fondly at you. 

“But, to answer your question. I can tell you a flower I find pretty?” Wonwoo offered, and you nodded eagerly. 

“I like carnations. They look pretty,” Wonwoo stated, and you smiled at him until you recalled what carnations symbolise. 

“Don’t they mean new love?” You said, your voice quieter and Wonwoo shrugged. 

“I didn’t know that, but I guess they do, huh? How apt,” Wonwoo said with a grin, and you felt your chest hurt with his words, and you needed to get away. Of course, he had love in his life, and you were wasting your time. 

“Cool, carnations, um. I’ll see you later,” you rushed as you tried to move away. 

“Wait, you didn’t tell me your favourite flower?” Wonwoo asked, and you shrugged. 

“Doesn’t matter anymore,” you mumbled, and Wonwoo pouted at you but didn’t protest any further when you walked away. 

Three Days Later

The following Monday, you got to work to find a bouquet of red roses delicately wrapped and placed on your workstation, and you saw a note on the bouquet.

‘You never told me your favourite, is this it?’ -Wonwoo

You had to fight off the smile that was making its way to your face. You knew he was in the shop. You could see his denim jacket out of your peripheral. You sighed and admired the flowers, put them in a vase, and paid no attention to them.

You thought the flowers were beautiful, but red roses were never your favourite.

Wonwoo wasn’t offended. He just made a note he’d try something else tomorrow.

On Tuesday, you found a bouquet of daisies at your workstation, and you stared up to see Wonwoo smiling at you, and you shook your head, smiling at him, and he nodded, understanding that daisies weren’t the ones either.

 You did read his note, however.

‘No to red roses? I agree, they can be a lot; let’s see, how about daisies?’-Wonwoo

You almost felt bad for not telling Wonwoo your favourite flowers, you didn’t want him to keep making bouquets to figure out your favourite flowers, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the attention. Plus, you figured that he couldn’t keep it up for too long. What was the harm?

‘I mean, honestly, I don’t know too many people who like daffodils, but maybe you do?’-Wonwoo.

You couldn’t help the smile on your face as you read Wonwoo’s note Wednesday morning. You turned to face him, and he looked at you questioningly, and you just smiled softly and shook your head at him, making him pout. Then nodded at you.

“I work in a flower shop. I’ll find it,” Wonwoo declared, making you smile.

You’d stop him soon. What he was doing wasn’t entirely appropriate. It was getting out of hand, especially if he had a new love in his life.

“They say orchids are wonderful. Tell me, Y/N is this your favourite?”-Wonwoo.

“Wonwoo,” you said as you approached him after you saw the bouquet at your workstation the following.

“I got it. Orchids, right? I guess Thursday is my lucky day,” Wonwoo babbled excitedly, and you shook your head.

“Damn, well, I still have Friday! I can’t stay and chat. I have a few deliveries to make,” Wonwoo said hurriedly, leaving you with a handful of Orchids and a soft smile on your face.

“Like the sun, you brighten my day. Sunflowers must be the one?”-Wonwoo.

“Tell me. I got these, right? Make my Friday Y/N. Did I finally get the right one?” Wonwoo asked as you placed the flowers into the vase.

“We should talk,” you said, taking his hand and dragging him into the office.

“Wonwoo, if you have a girlfriend, it’s highly inappropriate to send me flowers,” you started to say, earning a chuckle from him.

“A girlfriend?” Wonwoo asked, and you nodded.

“Yeah, the carnations, they mean new love, and you said it was apt,” you explained, earning another chuckle from Wonwoo.

“What is so damn funny?” You questioned, and Wonwoo inched closer to you.

“Did I ever say I had a girlfriend?” Wonwoo asked, and you looked down at the floor.

“No,” you mumbled.

“Then?” Wonwoo pushed.

“You said new love was apt,” you argued, and Wonwoo smiled, nodding.

“I did, and there is someone I love spending my time with, except for the past week, she’s been ignoring me. So, I kept sending her the wrong flowers, hoping I’d get her to talk,” Wonwoo explained, making you look up at him.

“Wrong flowers?” You asked, and Wonwoo nodded, pointing to the vase you kept on your office desk.

“I put these in the vase every day, but sadly you only noticed the wrong ones,” Wonwoo explained as he pointed to the peonies carefully arranged and placed on the vase on your desk.

“I have a pattern of noticing the wrong things, I guess,” you mumbled, and Wonwoo shook his head as you turned to face him.

“Well, you noticed, late, but you noticed, so it’s good,” Wonwoo comforted.

“Wait, how did you know peonies are my favourite?” You asked, making Wonwoo smile shyly.

“Anytime you had an order with peonies, you held them and handled each stem, each petal with so much care, and when you were done, you’d smile at each creation and take a photo. I figured you liked them enough,” Wonwoo elaborated, making you grin at them.

“I also heard they symbolise love,” Wonwoo added, making you grin.

“How apt,” you mumbled, making Wonwoo laugh as he inched closer, his face inches away from yours.

“Now, may I please kiss you? You do owe me for making you the wrong bouquets for five days straight,” Wonwoo asked, pouting.

“Please,” you said quietly, and that’s all it took for Wonwoo to close the gap between you two as he placed his lips over yours, his soft lips melting and moving against yours as his hands cupped your face. He pulled away slowly, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“You can’t do that. I get flustered,” you whined, making Wonwoo laugh.

“Prepare always to be flustered now that you’re mine,” Wonwoo declared, and you looked up at him.

“I’m yours?” You asked, and Wonwoo nodded shyly.

“Good, then you’re mine too,” you said, leaning up to kiss him again.

“Out of curiosity,” you said as you pulled away. “How long would you have continued sending me flowers if I didn’t stop you?” You asked.

“As long as it took to end up in this position.”

[bonefall]

Any fun moteifs your adding for characters in bb!au? Like associating a character with a certain flower or somthing along those lines. I’ve always been a fan of that kinda thing.

Oh there's a lot, and families often have motifs now

Spottedleaf has a blight theme. She is associated with death, bones and leaf rot.

Thistles, Honeysuckles, and Forget-me-nots are political metaphors for the three major ideologies and their factions

Blackstar has a thing about frogs, how they change, and live in bogs

Bluestar has a lone wolf theme; on the subject that there's no such thing. Wolves are pack animals and she's never been truly alone.

Her whole family carries the wolf motif in various ways; I even ended up comparing Misty's adopted brother Swansong to a golden retreiver and it's true in my heart

In general I use food as a metaphor a lot. I use it for everything. In Heartstar's Rise I use juniper spice as an allegory for homesickness, in Darkstar's Commandment (coming soon) I used mice as foreshadowing for a thing, cooked food in general has a theme of connection in all of BB!DOTC, the invention of Paw Soup is symbolic of a new era for Clan Culture, etc

Bright Storm and her son Thunder Storm have a weather motif in relation to themselves and their relationship to Clear Sky.

Cinderheart and birds. BPD: Bird Perception Disorder

If the tower of babel is in a song it immediately becomes bumble coded

Several spirits are summoned by particular objects; Frecklewish comes with the sacrifice of an adder or offering of flesh, Appledusk comes for crabapples

Firestar and fire. Naturally. Fire Alone and all

[athenaluthor]

flower shopping with obi wan modern au?

description - spring is finally here. you and obi-wan celebrate by expanding his plant collection and buying flowers

warnings - fluff, sweet tooth rotting fluff, domestic obi-wan, lovesick obi wan

side note - i mayhaps have gone and veered away from flower shopping to plant shopping ( cause plants are my jam). still hope u enjoy though. much love from me

word count -1.37k (unedited)

banner by @cafekitsune

Spring is finally here.

With it washes away the dread and barren cold of winter that seeps into your bones . The spring sun melts away the ice and makes way for a season of blooming flowers and plants.

The spring morning chill offers a nice change of pace from the frigid winds of winter. A lovely way to transition from thick winter coats to warm cardigans, according to Obi-Wan.

The hot cup of coffee he buys you does wonders to warm your hand as you both walk through the streets. Though the river market isn't an unfamiliar walk, Obi-Wan prefers to hold one of your hands as if you'd get lost. You don't mind, though. His hands are large and warm, providing you warmth and comfort like no other.

Hand in hand, the two of you walk through the city like always. You can't help but relish in the comfortable silence and the occasional talk. The kind of comfort that only comes through profound understanding. You adore the way his hair falls in his face, the way he smiles when he talks about his passions. Even after all this time, he blushes slightly every time he realizes your eyes are on him for too long.

Each year, the two of you venture down to the river market around spring to catch a glimpse of the annual plants and flowers market. The streets near the river house the stands that showcase all sorts of flowers. Each stand overflows with flowers and plants alike, attracting passersby and locals.

Unavoidably, Obi-Wan insists on you choosing a few plants to bring home every year.

“Obi, absolutely not! We have so many already, I wouldn't even know where to put them.” you say to him, laughing incredulously.

“What? Of course, there's space. I'll make space, darling. My hands are miracle workers, you know that. Remember last time?” he quips.

“Yes, I remember it. The ones you bought last year were too big and wouldn't fit on the balcony, yet you made it work. Now, shall I sing praises of your skill?” you quip back.

Eventually, you cave to Obi-Wan. The two of you settle on a few small houseplants after much contemplation. He wants more plants for the balcony like hydrangeas and morning glories, though he opts out of it after remembering his plans of adding chairs and tables to it.

You tease that Obi-Wan’s confidence and security is all for show, truly shaken when he has to make a decision for which plant he wants for your home. He takes the choice far too seriously which amuses you far more than you'd like to admit.

The look he gives to the fiddle leaf fig and monstera plant nearly makes you burst out laughing. He looks at it with such longing and wistfulness one would think it might be his lover.

“It's a terribly daunting decision, darling. What if we don't like it later? Can't return it back then, can we, hm?” states Obi-Wan

Leaning your head on his shoulder, you watch the stall worker pack your new plants. You find it amusing that he puts so much thought into it despite adorning every plant that comes into your home.

“You know, you love all your plants, Obi. Even the dramatic ones and that makes you all the more adorable to me.” you say dramatically.

He turns his head to you, his eyes bore into yours and his hand reaches for your cheek to caress it. “Adorable? Let's see if you still think that tonight, darling.” he cheekily replies.

Obi-Wan tucks a strand of your hair behind your ears and says “Besides,I have a love for beauty and dramaticness. Especially the one next to me, even if she teases me to no end.”.

The compliment makes the blood rush to your cheeks and you shy away from his gaze. He teases you for how easily your cheeks warm and how shy you get even after all this time.

Excusing yourself, you let Obi-Wan pay for the new plants while you discard your empty cup into a nearby recycling bin. Looking around in an attempt to calm yourself, you see some people walking around with bouquets of fresh flowers. You certainly didn't mind having some flowers around the house, you know Obi-Wan didn't either.

Once he's done, Obi-Wan walks to you with his brand new goods in hand and the brightest grin across his face.

“Where shall we go next, hmm?” He asks you.

“Want to get some fresh flowers? For our desks and maybe for our living room. It'll really feel like spring then.” you reply.

Smiling, Obi-Wan agrees and adds “Some for the kitchen too. Flowers in the kitchen make cooking much better, if you ask me.”

Continuing your journey, the two of you make your way further through the market. Walking hand in hand, both of you try to find the section of florists. Obi-Wan rattles off facts about the plants and flowers you see as you walk by. You tease his enthusiasm here and there, only to kiss his cheek once you've riled him up. Despite your teasing, you don't mind the flowers and plants, he knows it.

In truth, you find it charming to see him care for them meticulously. Though you would rather him tickle you to death than say that to him.

Spotting the section of florists, both of you head over there. Admittedly, you don't care much for plants, but you adore flowers. Especially since Obi-Wan indulges your love by planting some of your favorites at home and buys bouquets of others.

Full of excitement, you begin choosing with much care. You decide carefully which flowers would look best in your home and liven up the place, placing them in a basket the worker gave. Obi-Wan picks a few here and there, but he mostly opts to stand back and watch you be in your little world.

Moments like this remind him of how glorious it is to feel such profound love for you. Nothing can match how desperately and unequivocally in love with you he is.

Your voice snaps him out of his trance, “Should we get lilacs too?” you ask.

“Uhh, definitely. The snowdrops look great too. Do you want to get them?” he replies.

The two of you go back and forth between what other flowers you should get, eventually agreeing on some lilies as well as irises to add more color to the space.

By the end, the two of you have definitely gone a little overboard. Before you leave, Obi-Wan makes a quick purchase of some fertilizer he's been set on trying. All the more variety to up his gardening skills , according to him. He also chooses a few gardening gloves for both of you to replace your worn out ones.

The walk home is quite hilarious. The two of you have definitely purchased more than you can comfortably carry. Though, Obi-Wan suggests you hail a cab, you fail to find any. Your home isn't far enough to justify using a ride-share service at this time of day.

Now, you both are left trying to walk home with your hands full of new goods you can barely carry. Both of you don't complain though. The struggle adds to the laughter that neither of you can contain as you make your way back home.

Coming up to your building, the old lady knitting on by her window throws you a disapproving look. Her look tells you that she thinks the two of you are like teenage love-birds who can't keep quiet. It certainly wouldn't be the first time she thought so.

That evening, you both lay comfortably entangled on the sofa. Obi-Wan ensures to cover your bodies with the blanket once he feels the goosebumps on your skin. He's aware he runs warm but you don't so he offers to turn up the thermostat but you refuse, just wanting to lay with him.

Having your head on his chest and hands on his stomach drawing patterns, he thinks he could stay in this moment forever. A lovely day outside, shopping with the love of his life and evening spent making love to her.

He wishes this spring would last forever.