#where the wisteria grows

[0xochitlsketches0]

I knew you once~

I threw Aubrey, Izabella, and Wisteria to my page about 2 years back and then never further elaborated on them haha. 

Which sucks because they were supposed to be my experimental oc’s in me getting more comfortable with sharing my original ideas online. Ah well, it happens.

So take these character info crumbs I throw at you, a snippet into their past history.

This animatic was supposed to be a couple of things, one, depicting Aubrey and Izabells past relationship and current tension they both have with each other, two working on emotional tone in visuals and three, character acting.

I think I did okay in each category hskjqhdqk ʕ•̫͡•ʔ  

Is also serves as a sort of “test” run for a bigger sequence I’m gonna start later this week. I also added lip sync in it because I wanted to practice with that, honestly, it was not the best idea to merge them but it is what it is haha 

Im going to try and upload more sketches of them more often heheheh

[obsidian-art04]

Been reading the manga recently

Had a lot of thoughts, and talks with @emotionallyglued about my fics storyline

[dreaisgrayte]

Half Blood | Muzan Kibutsuji x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, TW! YN does get assaulted, mentions of blood, drinking blood, gore, how many times do I mention claws? Oral fem!receiving, fingering, kissing, breeding kink, virgin sex, creampie, and overstimulation.

Word Count: 4.9k

a/n: guys this started off as a quick break from a Sanemi fic I'm working on (keep in mind I think short fics are no longer than 3k) and here I am... with a way longer fic than I intended and something I actually want to expand on in the future. It was a lot of fun to write this so I hope you enjoy it <3

“You,” His pink irises are illuminated by the moon high in the night sky. The blood within your body cools as you stare back at the man who stored your fate. His inky black hair flows down his shoulder in waves. A deep blue yukata loosely hung on his frame. “I’ve been watching you.” Muzan growls, edging ever closer to where you stood. His pointed canines glinted in the light, his nails sharp and ready to claw at your jugular. The demon king rolls his tongue along the tips of his teeth, studying you carefully. Was he deciding whether or not to feast upon your flesh?

He had never seen such a creature as yourself. Your skin was glowing, soft, and supple. The lavender color yukata covered most of your body, a delicate pattern of white flowers spanning the kosode fabric. Your obi was white with purple vines flowing around it. You wear simple white tabies paired with purple strapped zori. Elegance and grace radiated from you. He could smell the wisteria perfume in your hair. 

It was strange, you were a confrontation to the world he wanted to live in – yet something he could not tear his eyes away from. Here you were, standing in front of him without fear. He rather thought it would be better fun if you were afraid, he did so enjoy the chase. Though, there was – of course – a reason you relented in running away from him. Your eyes were stormy, eclipsed by thousands of emotions. That’s when a different smell, that had not yet hit him, tickled his nose. Blood, and not just any blood. You had the blood of a demon in you. Your stern, furrowed brows, with the revolting smell of wisteria burning his nose. You confused him. “What are you?” He purs out, not sure if what would come out of your mouth would be a lie or truth. He could always figure it out for himself one way or another. 

Your lip ticks, a show of annoyance you’d yet to master. The man in front of you knew, he could smell it, of that you were sure. Yet, he dared ask. What are you? You’d been told many times what you were. An abomination. A curse. A monster. “Are you not the demon king?” You spit back, growing angry. Would the other half of you reject your existence as well? You had hoped at least the demons would have the scarce bit of comradery running through their systems. Muzan’s brows lift, then knit together. Did he need to answer you? After all, he could easily swipe at your neck to kill you for being so insolent. The eager need to hear what you had to say captivated him though. 

When the man does not answer you tut, crossing your arms over your chest. “Here I thought the mighty demon king would be able to tell me apart from the rest.” You shake your head, laughing stiffly into the night. In a flash Muzan has you pinned to the trunk of a tree. Splinters etch toward your face from the very force of his hand. His muscular body cages you in and it takes you a moment to realize how your body aches to be near him. 

“I can smell you,” He mutters, squinting his beautiful eyes like he couldn’t quite distinguish what he was looking at. “You assault my senses, it’s driving me mad. There’s something different about you.” Muzan had first observed you walking in your village one evening, the way people sneered and cowered at your presence intrigued him. He found himself looking for you every night, wondering what your story was. These villagers were shunning you. He wished to know why such a pretty thing as yourself would be outcasted in her own village. “You smell like me, yet you are not. So I ask you again, what are you?” His voice is low, edging on the precipice of anger. 

You do not yield in holding his gaze. “I am you, yet I am not. Born of the sun and moon. A half-blood.” 20 years ago your mother found herself in the entertainment district, serving the pleasures of others. A man came to visit her on multiple occasions. Eventually, the two ran away together. Sharing in love and secrets. Your mother was a demon and your father a local carpenter. How you were able to be conceived was a mystery, even to them. They lived in peace, until one night. The villagers had finally seen through your father’s lies, storming their house. They slaughtered both of them and assuming you were a child taken captive, they whisked you away to a widowed mother. As you grew it was obvious where your origins lay, yet no one in the village dared to lay a hand on you. 

Muzan lets his gaze drop to where your heart pulsed, bouncing the skin of your jugular. “You are human and demon?” Something pulled tight in his chest. Could you walk in the sun? Did you regenerate? Were you the answer to his plight? “You are radiant.” He cannot stop the words from falling past his lips. Your eyes light up with recognition, acceptance, and for a moment your past falls away. He had the ever-growing urge to sweep you away. Your very existence was tantalizing to him in the least. He tilts his head, wrinkling his nose at the obscure way you smelt. 

Your eyes settle on the way he reacts to you, wondering if he’ll take you away someplace. Some place away from these villagers who had slaughtered your parents who just wanted to live in harmony. They did not deserve to die and you did not want to live one more second with their murderers. Muzan wanted to take you, but he couldn’t. Not yet. You were so fragile. If he were to touch you he would fear you would break on the spot. “Are you going to take me away from this place?” You whisper, hopeful tones floating to Muzan. He swallows something deep and thick. 

Muzan backs away from you, eyes tensing. “No.” He replies softly. He could not take you into his den, the other demons were too stupid to realize how precious you were. You would be dead within seconds. The line between your brows hardens again as his words hit you. 

“No? Why not? Am I not good enough for you?” Your voice is rising. You sound like a whining child who hasn’t gotten their way. Muzan winces at the obvious pain seeping into your voice. You were nothing like he’d ever seen before. Something beautiful, a miracle in his eyes. Therefore, he did not answer you. He simply faded back into the shadows. With his disappearance, your hopes and dreams faded as well.

—

The next time you see Muzan is two years later. His hair is shorter than you last saw it, the curls kissing the nape of his neck. This neat look couldn’t contain the loose curls that framed his face. A starched white collar shirt was tucked into an ornate waistcoat. He looked utterly different, yet he was your Muzan. He had the same eyes, the same far-off look, and on top of that, you could practically taste his scent. It was overwhelming, crushing even, but in a way, you enjoyed the rush. 

It was also a fact that you had escaped your village after one of the men tried to see how strong a half-blood was. He told you he was turned on by how revolting you were and he would take you as his wife in duty only. Until then you had never seriously thought about killing a human. The realization was both terrifying and freeing. So you fled to the entertainment district, living off of what you could at the Kyogoku House. There were so many smells here. Food, humans, sex, and demons. 

You worked under a beautiful oiran, and you could tell… she wasn’t human. Part of you wanted to become friends with her, but if she hadn’t reached out for the sake of commonality, you didn’t think there was a chance of any other relationship than servant. 

Muzan’s brows furrowed. He had come to visit Daki and yet your scent prosecuted his brain. Ever since he left you in the forest that day he had been thinking of a way to retrieve you. You were too precious to let out of his sight again. This time he would secure you. He could feel his blood boil at the thought of you living in the Ukiyo. Kyogoku House was well protected, but anywhere without him wasn’t safe for you. Were you being used by men far beneath you? Muzan had never felt such rage toward the thought of men touching a woman. He often indulged in watching, humans were ever so entertaining – but you weren’t human. You were one of his and he swallowed harshly at the fact that you weren’t only his. 

He brushes past some of the lower-ranking courtesans, his eye twitching at their giggles. You watch from afar, the familiarity of his back etching a cold ache into your heart. He would leave again, of that you were sure. You hug the fresh sheets to your chest, making your way to the linen closet down the hall. “Ah, YN, I’ve been looking for you.” The Okaasan Omitsu stands before you. She has a cunning sneer behind the kind smile she wears. 

You bow, storing the sheets away before turning your full attention to her. “Yes Okaasan?” You can smell the evil intent behind this woman, it makes your stomach sink. 

“You wouldn’t mind doing me a favor would you?” She uses the word favor like you’d have a choice. She is the Okaasan after all. It’s like she thinks you’re some stupid girl that will follow whatever she says. Using the word favor is a manipulation tactic and if you were a naive girl, you would be eating out of the palm of her hand. 

You tilt your head to the left, plastering a fake smile of your own onto your lips. You knew anything out of your mouth except ‘yes Okaasan’ would make things harder for yourself. So with all your better judgment pushed aside, you say exactly that. 

Her eyes gleam. “Thank you, my dear. If you will kindly follow me.” She walks back up the hall, toward one of the private Ozashiki rooms. You glance around, nerves settling into your bones. You couldn’t be headed into one of these rooms, you weren’t even a kamuro. You were just an older shinzō. 

She stops in front of the panel, a cruel smile lifting the corners of her mouth. No, please, not this. “You are very blessed my dear, one of our chūsan is interested in you.” She slides the door aside and sitting against a wall smoking a pipe is a middle-aged man. Cushions are scattered around the floor and a twisted smirk plays with his mouth when he sees you. Okaasan bows then slides the door shut behind you. 

The room was stifling, the smoke choking out any of the senses you had. It was dizzying. “Mmm, you’re a lot older than I thought.” The man sneers, setting his pipe down. The fog of opium seemingly wraps around your throat, making it hard to breathe. “But you’ll do.” He laughs, patting the cushion next to him. “Why don’t you come a little closer?” He offers. Your body tenses. You were in danger, of that you were sure. You were not willing to give your virginity up to such a man but if you denied him the right to your own body, there would be outrage. You swallow, tentatively kneeling on the cushion next to him. 

He leans over you, sniffing the area around your shoulder. You stiffen. “You smell so good, better than all those flora bitches.” He growls. “I like your natural…musk.” Oh Gods did this man – who probably has a wife and children – just compliment how you smell when you’ve been working all day? “What do you like about me?” What a loaded question. 

You smile, one that shuts your eyes – if he saw the look in your eyes he’d be sure to know you were lying when you said, “I appreciate your generosity.” You bow your head and the man laughs heartily. 

His tongue darts out to coat his lips. “I can be more generous if you’d like?” He moves himself closer to you. “I was blessed with wealth, good looks, and a tool to make women scream.” Please let the tool be an ice pick so you can lobotomize yourself. “Whad’ya say, darling?” He coos, going in for what appears to be a kiss even though you hadn’t been given the time to answer him. 

You grimace away from his advance, shoving at his chest. The eerie playful tone in the room suddenly seems to vacuum out. The fog is still thick from the burning opium, but you don’t miss the way the man before you lunges for you. He’s panting above you with a charming pointy sneer. “Ah ah ah, not so fast. You haven’t serviced me, whore.” He digs his nails into your shoulder, pinning you to the wooden floor. “Look at you, begging for my cock with your eyes, ooohh you want it that bad you slut?” He hisses, fumbling with the buckle of his Western-style pants. You squirm wildly under his grasp but it’s like he’s infused with superhuman strength. “I’m gonna fuck you and then, as your reward,” His face is next to yours now, eyes glowing an electric yellow, pupils in slits. “I’m going to kill you.” His hand is on your throat, crushing your windpipe. You choke on what little air you were able to breathe earlier. 

A demon, this man was a demon. One of your kind. No… he wasn’t. He was something else. He was driven by the carnal desire to fuck and kill. You were too weak to push him off, your internal forces constantly warring against each other. You had always presented as human, meek, malleable, and obedient. What you would give to have your demon side come forth, bite this fucker’s head off. You want to scream – but on account of his claws sinking into the back of your neck – if you even moved that would surely be the end of your life. 

He tears your yukata to shreds, ripping the soft skin of your stomach open as well. Your mouth opens the pressure of a scream pushing against his hand. Blood mixes with the tattered cloth, the cotton dying red.

Muzan pauses, Daki grumbling about some inferior human drama. His eyes search the room, this time Daki taking notice from her self-indulged rant. Where was that smell coming from? He stands, silencing Daki before she can start whining again. The potent smell of blood was swirling to the top floor, but not just…any blood. “YN,” He hisses, the annoyance, rage, and blood-boiling sensations he felt earlier returning tenfold. Why were you bleeding? This was fresh cut blood, not from the dues women endured every month. He needed to find you, or he feared the worst. “I need to go.” He barely says to the demon next to him. Her face morphs into one of anger, and before she can hurl anything at him, Muzan slips out of her room. Where were you? He follows the pungent scent, clambering down the stairs and rushing down the hall until he’s in front of a private room. He’s sweating, for once fear is humming in his ear. He shoves the door to the side, witnessing a demon hunched over your body. 

Your blood is pooling around you dying the wonderfully blue yukata you wore earlier a sickly brown color. The demon doesn’t have time to look up because Muzan is already crushing its head, slashing its throat to shreds of what it once was. 

The room is covered in blood but the demon is dead. Muzan slides to the floor, cradling you in his lap. “YN, no, no please don’t die.” You were his miracle. You were his hope. If anything could save his damned soul it would be you. His arms are trembling as your stomach bleeds out, the skin marred, and…God the smell of your blood was driving him mad. It was something he shouldn’t be thinking about as you bleed out under him. You needed to regenerate. He wasn’t sure if you could so maybe your demon just needed a little push?

With his free hand, Muzan tears the flesh from his arm, bringing it down to your mouth. His blood trickles onto your lips, sliding into your mouth. After a few silent beats, your eyes shoot open. Muzan has never felt such joy as this very moment. Your arms wrap around his, bringing it into your mouth. Muzan hisses at the way your tongue dances around his wound, lapping up the blood he shed for you. You’re panting, gasping for more. Your eyes glow as you drag your tongue up the muscle of his forearm. His blood flows through you like your own life force, strengthening your nerves, hardening your muscles. He has made you stronger. 

It sends a pinch of desire through Muzan. He hadn’t felt the heat of wanting to sink his cock into the warmth of a cunt in decades. You were mouthing at his arm, wounds healed on both ends, but now that you were moving the once whole yukata falls off your shoulders. Blood trails from your lips down your chest, between your breasts. Muzan was never one to fend off his desire to want. He took whatever he wanted, without a care. He wanted to take you without a care. Fuck you senseless into the floorboards, claw at you, feed on your blood while you fed on his. It was ecstasy just imagining driving his cock into your pretty tight pussy. 

“I should’ve never left you.” He whispers and it sends a rolling wave of want through you. You move to straddle his lap. 

“Then don’t leave me now.” You could both smell it, the heat and arousal in the air. “Take me, my Lord.” He smirks, holding onto your thighs. 

He hums, enjoying the way you’re bare in front of him. You were a sight to behold. “Mmm, such a smart girl.” A portal opens underneath him, the wooden floor sinking into an expanse of rooms, platforms, doors, lights, and endless corridors. The sheer speed whips your hair around your face until – it doesn’t. You’ve stopped in the middle of whatever this place was. “Welcome home,” Muzan’s pink eyes darken to a deep crimson as he sits up straighter, pressing himself into you. You moan in delight as his hands work their way up your hips, sitting you down on the stiff part of his lap. 

You tilt your head, peeking at him. “I’ve never liked pants,” you mumble, playing with the hem of his. He chuckles his smirk growing. 

“And why is that?” He inquires, moving his tongue to lick up the blood that has traveled toward your navel. You choke out a moan as he makes his way between your breasts. You can feel his teeth against your skin and it’s a wretched thought. “Aheh,” He swipes at the crest of your breast. 

“H-hard to get off.” Muzan hums against your skin in agreement, but he’s too preoccupied with the way you tremble with untapped pleasure. 

He wants to tear into your flesh, mark you as his, burn only his name onto your tongue. “Such an eager kitten,” He licks his lips, capturing the back of your neck in his hands. “You want me bare that badly?” All you can manage is a small nod as he gingerly moves you so that you’re laying down. Your hips are still lined up with his as he gazes at you. “I can promise you I have a similar urgency.” He grins, pulling the belt from his breeches with a smooth movement. He tosses it to the side, but doesn’t make any more movements to pull his pants down. Muzan notices your heated gaze pointed toward his hardened groin. 

Did you know nothing about the workings between a man and woman? His eyes trail down your body, stopping at the apex of your thighs. He wraps his arms around the bend of your knee, smirking when your eyes widen in surprise. He tugs you upwards, to where your legs are over his shoulders. Being this close to your glistening pink cunt made his groin stiffen even more, if that was possible. The smell of you was intoxicating. He couldn’t help himself. “What a fucking view.” He growls. 

Muzan buries his head between your thighs, latching his mouth onto your swelling clit. You gasp in pleasure, breaths turning into ragged moans as he plunges his tongue deeper into you. “O-oh my God, f’ck, ngh.” With the way his tongue his twisting and sucking inside of you, breathing seemed impossible. His claws dig into your outer thigh, scratching red trails to your knees. He devours every bit of you he can reach, crazed by the tangy sweetness of your arousal. Your walls were squeezing around his tongue, heat running through your body. 

Your own hands find your stiff nipples, rolling them around in your fingers. You couldn’t get enough, it was the same feeling you received from drinking his blood. Heat rolling around in your veins as his eyes take in your puffy cunt and how your eyes roll to the back of your head. He maneuvers one hand from under your knee to the one place that was being ignored on you – your entrance. It was like the gate to a shrine and he wanted to worship there for eternity. “Look at how fucking wet your cunt is.” His pointed nails shape into shorter rounder ones, he dare not damage this holy place. Then, without warning, he presses two fingers into you. A yelp echoes across the void of the infinity castle. “Ahhh, shit,” You huff, tensing from the sensation of your pussy being stretched. 

Muzan knew you were a virgin, he would be lying if the fact didn’t make him grow more feral to have you sit on his cock and take his seed deep within you. He wanted you. He wanted you. He wanted you. That was all he could think about while lapping up your wetness. 

The slick from your cunt was sucking his fingers in, a growl rumbling around your clit. This makes you scream out as a shockwave shoots through you. Your thighs are shaking and every once and a while – as Muzan still selfishly fingers you through your climax, sucking on your clit – your body will twitch. Heavy and heady moans fall from your lips, breaking into whines as you come down from your high. 

“You did such a good job my sweet,” Muzan lowers you gently back to the floor. Your neck is sore from being at an awkward angle for so long, but you would give anything to see the disheveled man before you with your arousal still on his lips. “That’s it. Prefect. You’re so perfect.” He mutters, licking his lips and watching you still play with your nipples. 

Though you feel like you’ve just ascended, you crave more. You want Muzan to breed you like his own personal slut. “M-more,” You gasp. “I feel so empty my Lord.” You huff, the edges of your voice bleeding to a whine. Muzan’s eyes widen. He hadn’t intended to fuck you just yet. Give you some time to grow accustomed to sexual things so it wasn’t rushed, but your eyes are pleading him to continue. He’s… nervous, which isn’t like the demon king. He’s so eager to please you. Make sure you’re comfortable. He wants to give you hell, heaven, and the earth. 

“You’re practically begging me.” He chuckles, unsure if you really knew what you were asking. There was no way that once Muzan slid into your heady cunt that he would not ravish you. There was no way to tell time in the infinity castle, so there was no way for him to know when to stop until he was satisfied. You squirm to get closer to him, spreading your legs wide for him. His gaze drops from yours to your center, whatever shred of humanity that was left in him suddenly flying away. “Such a filthy slut. You’re already hungry for more? You want me to fill you up? Then beg for it.” His eyes narrow into slits, the magma growing in his belly. 

Your body cools with a shiver of excitement, as you reach down in between your thighs. You purse your lips and then spread your labia apart. The cool air tickles the sticky wetness but you can tell it’s doing something for him. “Please, my King, I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t think. I want you to take my virgin pussy and make it yours.” 

The corner of his mouth ticks up in a smirk. “As you wish my Queen.” He frees his cock and you have to take a moment to gulp at the sheer size of it. The head is leaking precum and bruised a red color from the lack of release. The shaft is a pale pink, a thick vein running down the underside. The muscles of his hips also catch your attention. They were unlike the drawings some of the courtesans had shown you. His were muscular, ready to thrust into you for hours. 

Muzan lines himself up at your entrance, this time with the head of his cock. The idea was thrilling, finally pushing into your pussy and breaking the barrier of your womanhood. He hisses as your slick coats him, making it easy enough to start entering you. Your face contorts with a mixture of pain and pleasure. “Shhh, you can take it.” You want to wiggle away from him, the pain of his member stretching you out is enough to break you. “Ah ah ah, you’re not going anywhere pretty girl. Remember you asked for this.” Muzan leans over you seizing your mouth with his own. You share a leisurely kiss as he swallows your moans. 

He feels the head of his cock hit your hymen and with a wince he thrusts past it. He can feel the rush of silky blood around his cock, but he tries his best to divert your attention with heated kisses. You break free, a long drawn out moan gasping out of you. “Ahhh, oh my, hngh nngh yes!” 

Muzan nuzzles into your neck, the feeling of your walls clenching around him driving him practically insane. “Yeah? Tell me how good I am. Tell me how good I am at fucking you.” He hisses out, desperate for your compliments and approval. 

“Nnnggh, s’good, f’ckin’ me s’good.” You slur, drunk on how he guided a new path into you. You pant and writhe under him, eyes fluttering shut. 

“Not yet my love, I want you to watch.” He starts to move his hips and you wince in burning pleasure. “That’s it. You’re doing so good.” He grunts, snapping his hips back into you. The wet slap of skin hitting skin sends shivers down your back. 

You’re straining against the build up in your stomach, a pit of coils wanting to spring forth. “Mmm, harder.” You huff, reach out to grab the back of his neck. He shakes his head, a playful smirk on his swollen lips. 

“Use your manners.” He teases, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“Please fuck me harder.” You mewl just as he starts to thrust into you with a quickened rhythm. Your breath is sucked away by the pure bliss aching from the friction. 

Muzan bites down on his lip, brushing a few curls that had come free from behind his ear. “You like it when I do that?” He quizzes, fucking you harder. You can only manage a nod.

Your voice has grown hoarse from moans breaking into screams and whines. You buck your hips along with his as you arch your back, tumbling over your peak. “F’ck, haa haa hnngh,” You squeeze his cock and release his neck, breathless from your second orgasm. 

“Cum all over my cock, fuck,” Muzan growls, the feeling of your slick cum coating his length. He was gliding into you with such ease. He would apologize to you later for this. He pounds into your sensitive cunt, overstimulating you as you cry out. He rams himself into you and stays deep within your pussy. Panting heavily Muzan finally crashes over his own wave of pleasure. Splurting his cum around the walls of your pussy. He doesn’t want to pull out – for one fact he wanted all of his cum to stay within you – and for another fact, you were all the salvation he needed. He could find redemption with you. He rolls you both onto your side, hiking your leg over his hip to make sure he can stay inside of you. 

This was it, you had driven him to the edge and he would make sure to never let anything else touch you. As he gazes upon your soft features drifting off to a satisfied slumber he feels what once was his heart ache. “We should get married.” He blurts out.

[florencemtrash]

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Twenty-Six

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warnings: smut (I finally wrote it y'all), fluff, *minors! DNI*

To skip this chapter, click this link to go immediately to Chapter Twenty-Seven

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

Azriel had no shortage of secret hiding places scattered across Prythian — apartments paid for under alias names, safe houses in towns where everyone minded their own business, hell there was even a residence in the countryside he’d help build with his own two hands. 

But he didn’t bring you to any of those. Those places were either in dangerous territory, tainted by the work he conducted as a Shadowsinger and Spymaster, or touched by the hands of lovers he couldn’t even remember anymore. For you, he wanted someplace new. Someplace special. 

He grinned with excitement, squeezing the flesh of your thigh as he held you close and trekked through the forest.

“Where are we going?” You kissed the curve of his ear, peppering his skin with kisses wherever you could reach. 

“Why are you whispering?”

You shrugged, smiling against his neck as he continued. The mountain woods were silent save for the rustling of cicada wings and the wing beats of owls as they hunted in the night. Moonlight blinked through the foliage, scattering the ground with salt and starshine. 

It was calm here. Peaceful. 

Shadows covered your eyes and flicked away low hanging branches so they wouldn’t snap on your dress or get tangled in your hair. You heard the rustling of the branches whenever they were moved aside and couldn’t help but flush at the shadows’ politeness. 

“Just a little further now.” 

You could hear the anticipation growing in Azriel’s voice. His hands were becoming greedy, slipping beneath your dress when it shifted and leaving molten fingerprints wherever he touched. He shivered when you sighed against his neck, washing his skin with a warm breeze. 

There was a fire burning close by. You could smell the chimney smoke in the air and the fragrant smell of flowers.

You shifted in his arms, prepared for him to let you back down to your feet, but Azriel didn’t let you go, nuzzling his face into the soft skin of your neck as his shadows finally dissipated. 

“Welcome to our new home, my love.” 

You gasped softly—a sound that had Azriel’s tongue darting out to feel your pulse as you caught your breath. 

High in the mountains and deep in the woods, a clearing had been cut out and the ground turned over. Star magnolias lined the edges of the clearing, their white blossoms clinging to their branches like freshly fallen snow. Grass grew soft and unencumbered, the occasional flowering weed adding drops of color onto the rolling, green canvas that brushed against Azriel’s ankles. 

But the cottage… oh, the cottage was a beauty. Cream-white windows bright with firelight peered out from walls made of pale brown stone. Blue curtains hung in the windows like eyelids and an ironwood door made up the cottage’s mouth. The door was nestled between two hanging lamps and they poured their light onto two wicker chairs, a table, and a hanging daybed on the porch. Blue wisteria crawled up the porch columns onto the stone walls, lit up by moonlight until they glowed stronger than the stars in the sky. 

“This… this is ours?” You breathed in disbelief. 

“It’s ours.” 

Azriel made a subtle point of stepping over the threshold with you in his arms before quietly letting you down to your feet. It felt like the right thing to do. 

You walked through the cottage in a daze, the roaring blood in your body momentarily forgotten as you moved through the front room to the living room where a cream-colored sofa with plush blue pillows and two armchairs surrounded a flickering fireplace. A bay window looked out over the front lawn arranged with cushions and a small bookcase so you could read. The adjacent kitchen hummed with quiet energy, and you knew that whatever magic touched the House of Wind and the River House also lived here. 

It was a fairytale cottage come to life, clean and cozy with its cream-colored walls and exposed wood beams. 

There was also a conservatory at the back of the cottage you hadn’t seen from out front and its domed, glass roof reminded you of the Day Court athenaeums — a piece of home away from home. Already plants flourished along the windowsill — courtesy of Elain — and green strings of pearls spilled out of white hanging planters like miniature chandeliers. 

“We’re still in the Night Court,” Azriel explained. His hands drifted up to your shoulders as you stood transfixed in the conservatory. “In the mountains along the western coast ten miles from the Day Court border. I figured it would allow us both to be close to home… and far enough away for some peace and quiet.” 

Since coming to the Night Court — since meeting Azriel — there had hardly been time or space to breathe. The River House and House of Wind bubbled with talk, constantly moving as people came and went more frequently than the tide. 

But here it was just you two. 

You were here… alone.

Rooms remained unexplored in the cottage, but all thought of them flew out the window as you turned in Azriel’s arms and took in his burning, hazel eyes. You flung your arms around his neck, fingernails gently dragging through his hair as you kissed him dizzy.

You stumbled up the staircase, still lip-locked with Azriel groaning against your mouth as the buttons of his shirt were ripped off and trickled to the floor like raindrops. 

“Which one’s the bedroom?” You murmured as you staggered down the hallway. You were vaguely aware of some beautiful portraits hanging along the wall, flashes of blue, black, white, and gold paint expertly melted onto canvas, but admiring them was for another day. You had other, more important, things currently on your mind — like finding a gods-damned bed to fall into. 

You reached the very last door of the hallway before Azriel gasped out, “Here,” and grappled at the door handle, his other arm wrapped tightly around your waist like you were at risk of floating away. 

You and Azriel all but fell through the handsome wooden door engraved with some Illyrian markings you couldn’t make out and a large symbol of the sun. 

The fireplace roared to life, spurred on by the Cottage’s magic as Azriel dropped to his knees and started undoing the ties of your shoes. He looked radiant even while on his knees. His wings flared out from his back burning gold and orange as the firelight seeped through the thin, delicate membrane coloring his tan skin even more vibrantly as he looked up at you with hungry reverence. 

Blue velvet ribbons fell to the floor and your shoes came with them. They were the first piece of clothing discarded as Azriel gripped your ankles and began trailing kisses along your calves.

 He threw off his mating crown and it skittered along the floor, disappearing somewhere beneath the dresser. 

His lips moved up to your knees. Then further still. 

“Azriel.” You breathed your mate’s name. 

A four-poster bed took up most of the far wall, bracketed on both sides by wall sconces shaped like roses and mahogany nightstands. Gauzy curtains fluttered in the open windows, allowing inside a cool wind that smelled of petrichor and pine. 

You were never more grateful for a bed and a breeze as Azriel’s head disappeared beneath your dress. 

You gripped the bedpost, soft sighs turning to breathy moans as feather-light brushes of lips over skin turned to hungry, open-mouth kisses along your thighs. No one had ever kissed you like this. 

Azriel’s fingers dug into the flesh of your hips as he groaned. 

No one had ever touched you like this. 

You felt the air move between your legs and gasped. 

You scrambled to bunch your dress in your hands, revealing Azriel’s dark head of hair and his hazel eyes, pupils blown so wide they were nearly black. 

“Where did these come from?” He groaned, tucking his fingers into the waistband of your lacy, dark blue undergarments. 

“Sloane’s,” You said, chest heaving. It was a miracle you could speak at all. 

You’d never been with a male. Hell, you’d never been with anyone. Azriel had been your first for everything that mattered, and he would remain the only one who had you in this way. 

Azriel stilled as if the same thought had passed his mind. A shadow curled around your chin, tilting it down ever so slightly at the same time his eyes drifted up to yours, soft and vulnerable and golden. Your cheeks were flush with color, excitement and anticipation written in every muscle of your body. 

“Tell me to stop and I will,” he promised.  

You swallowed thickly and nodded, but you didn’t think you’d ever want him to stop. 

Your head hit the bedpost with a dull thud, mouth open and panting as Azriel pushed aside the lace and tasted you. 

You weren’t oblivious to what happened during sex. You were a grown female with access to just about any book on any subject in the entire world. You knew what happened during the frenzy — had been imagining it far too often the last few days— but experiencing it was another thing entirely. 

Every time Azriel moved his tongue — every time he so much as breathed — your hips were jolting, fingers twitching as you buried them in his hair and shoved his face closer. He was strong beneath you, breath and tongue hot and wanting. 

Azriel let out a strangled noise when the first thrust of his tongue had you tugging on his hair. Hard. 

“Sorry, sorry,” you hissed, squeezing your eyes shut. But Azriel grabbed your hand before you could bury it in the folds of your dress and brought it back to his head. 

“Do it again,” he all but growled and dove back in between your thighs. 

In the beginning, you tried to contain yourself — to drag out this moment that had been ages in the making. You bit down on your lips and stifled your moans in your fist until Azriel’s shadows came to pin your hand to the bedpost. 

But then he slipped his fingers between your folds, pressing and twisting and testing you until he’d sunk in knuckles deep. Then there was no stopping the pressure building between your legs and within your core. 

“Az,” you moaned, hips bucking against him. You couldn’t see his face, but you could feel his smugness and pride as he brought you to the edge. “Oh… oh gods, Az! Fuck!��

You came around his fingers, thighs clamping down around his head as you shivered and moaned, but he didn’t stop, not even when you began to whine and jerk from the overwhelming feeling. You thought he would stop. 

“Az,” You gasped, tugging at his hair. “Az, stop.” 

Azriel snapped back from your core, eyes glazed over in a drunken haze. His mouth glistened and he swallowed, standing up and sliding his leg between yours so you wouldn’t fall on shaky legs. 

You stared at each other, taking in the sight of flushed cheeks and wet lips and unruly hair. He licked his lips, then slowly wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket. 

“Was that alright?” He asked seriously. 

You sprang forward, lips colliding with his as you pulled at his jacket. You undid the buttons that closed up the slits beneath his wings and in less than a second Azriel had it pulled off and thrown across the room. The buttons of his shirt were mostly undone, but he didn’t hesitate before ripping it open and scattering the tattered silk across the floor. 

You’d seen Azriel shirtless plenty of times before. It was how he preferred to sleep. And many hours had been spent awake in bed tracing the tattoos that swirled across his chest and shoulders with your eyes and with your hands. Now you traced them with your lips, sucking gently at the hollow of his neck where one of the dark marks curled. 

Azriel closed his eyes and sighed. 

He was much gentler with your dress than with his shirt. There was no tugging or tearing. He simply buried his face between your breasts while loosening the corset ties at the back, then slipped the dress off your shoulders. The dress fell to the floor with a whisper and you stepped out of the pool of silk.

Azriel took a step back and went completely, utterly still. 

You shivered beneath his unflinching gaze, resisting the urge to bring up your arms and hide yourself. It was a knee-jerk reaction, but one that you no longer needed. This was Azriel standing in front of you — beautiful, kind, and loving, Azriel, who already knew things about you more intimate than your body. 

Your lace underthings did little to cover you — a very intentional choice — and you found yourself flushing the longer Azriel went without saying or doing anything. 

Finally, he broke the silence and breathed in awe. “You’re beautiful, Y/n.” 

Emboldened by his words, you crawled onto the bed, holding out your hand for Azriel to join you. He hovered over you as you reached for his belt buckle, undid the buttons of his trousers, and slowly slid them far enough down that Azriel could kick them off. His shadows took his shoes. 

You watched carefully as Azriel leaned you back on the bed and placed his elbows on either side of your head. Every ripple of muscle, every stretch of skin, did not go unnoticed by you. Azriel was your mate and you were desperate for the sight of him. 

You slowly moved your hand between his thighs, experimental strokes setting his lungs ablaze as he groaned. The sound sent a new wave of heat between your legs and confidence through your bones, especially as Azriel fisted the sheets by your head, brows furrowed in concentration. 

Without warning he tore your undergarments off you, exposing every inch of your skin to the cool wind that blew through the windows. Nesta was right — the blue lace did not survive the first night of the frenzy. 

“I’ll… I’ll buy you more.” He promised, leaning down to smother his moans against your lips as you kept stroking him. 

“It doesn’t matter.” You whispered and drew him close to you. So close he could feel the wetness that had gathered below. “I want you to see me, Azriel.” You kissed the corner of his mouth before moving your lips to his ear. “I want you to touch me. All of me.” 

And who was he to deny you? 

His hand took over yours and you gasped when he finally slid inside you. Moans slipped into the open air, interrupting the rumble of storm clouds as they gathered close by. 

Azriel breathed heavily against your lips, right hand moving to reposition your legs so they wrapped around his waist. “Are you alright? Are you in any pain?” 

You shook your head fervently. You’d worried it would hurt the first time, and certainly there was an odd, but not unwelcome, tightness where you and Azriel met, but all you could focus on was the roar of the bond in your chest and the flutter of Azriel’s wings as he buried his face in your neck. 

Inch by delicious inch, Azriel pushed forward, always waiting for your permission to continue until his hips were pressed flush against yours.

You both panted for breath as your bodies molded to fit one another in this new way and Azriel swore there was a faint, otherworldly glow to your eyes as you stared at him and smiled. 

You dragged your nails down his back, reveling in the strangled noise that came from deep in Azriel’s throat. A noise that grew louder when you gave a small roll of your hips, testing the waters and loving the pleasure that shot through you. 

Azriel’s hands flew to your hips, clamping down and stopping your movements as he struggled to catch his breath. 

“Az.” You moaned his name and your core tightened around him.

“Don’t move,” Azriel choked out. “Just… just give me a moment.” 

He would never live it down if he came inside you now. 

You lifted your head from the pillow, wide eyes staring down at him as he squeezed his eyes shut as if in pain. Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything, then he wouldn’t have to deal with your shuddering walls clenching around him as you stifled your giggles. Who would have thought the Shadowsinger would be so easy to bring to the edge? There was a thrill that shot through you as you realized, once again, just how much he loved you — just how much you drove him wild. 

One sharp snap of his hips was all it took for your laughing to turn to whines, hands reaching up and bracing against the headboard. Azriel began slowly, methodically, timing his thrusts to your breathing so he could draw those sweet noises from your lips like music. 

“Mother save me, Y/n,” he groaned, capturing your breast in his mouth and swirling it around his tongue.  

He flung open his side of the bond and you did the same, drowning in dual pleasure as his thrusts sped up. You thought your heart might explode in your chest. 

Azriel kissed his way up to your temple and pressed his forehead against yours, hot breath fanning over your cheeks as he tangled his fingers in your hair. He wished he was an artist so he could capture the sight of you beneath him. Your flushed cheeks and glowing eyes. The stretch of your neck as you tensed. The hot, fervent press of your breasts against his chest as your back arched off the bed. 

I love you, Azriel. Your words flowed across the bond, carried on waves and waves of pleasure as you jolted up and let out a choked cry. 

That sound. Azriel wanted to hear it every day for the rest of his life. He didn’t stop his thrusts, rolling his hips forward and chasing after his own release as one hand slipped between your bodies. You squirmed beneath him, hips bucking up wildly as he urged you on. 

“I’m here, Y/n. I love you so much. Keep making those noises for me. Please.” Azriel clasped his hand in yours, chanting your name as he felt that coil of pleasure tighten further. 

Illyrian wings are one of the most sensitive areas of the body, evolutionarily adapted to sense even the smallest changes in air pressure and wind speed. The apex of their wings alone contain nearly 3,000 nerve endings. 

Even through the daze of pleasure, you eyed the curve of Azriel’s wings with curiosity. 

Do it. Azriel begged. Please. 

You squeezed your legs around his waist, mind cloudy with pleasure as you dragged your fingers along the membrane just below the talon. 

This time you shattered together, hips slapping and cries of each others’ names spilling out into the night sky for all the stars to hear. Shadows burst forth from Azriel and mixed with the blinding rays of sunlight that exploded from your chest. Together, your magic blew out all the windows in the cottage and sent a roll of thunder so far over the mountains that Rhysand, Feyre, and even Helion felt a disturbance along the border. 

The hand you’d caressed Azriel’s wing with shot upward as you came for the second time in a row, slamming into the headboard and punching a hole through the solid wood. You held onto the ruined headboard as every tense muscle in your body slowly loosened with a twitch, spreading warmth and ecstasy across your skin and through the bond. 

Azriel collapsed onto your chest sweaty and spent. He could hear your heartbeat within your ribs running faster than a jackrabbit. You breathed heavily, blinking the fog from your eyes as you stared up at the ceiling. 

You brought your hands to Azriel’s back, holding him tight as you gathered your breath and tried to calm your racing heart lest it decide to fly out of your ribcage. 

“Did you…did you just break the headboard?” Azriel breathed out after some time had passed and neither of you were trembling anymore. 

“......No.”  

Azriel peered up first at you, and then the fist-shaped hole in the maple bed frame. He burst out laughing. The noise was brighter than sunlight and you couldn’t help but join in. 

“Are you hurt?” He grinned. 

You shook your head. Laughter spilled out of your lips so brilliantly they were more gasps for air than anything else. He kissed your knuckles, smooth and unharmed. Then, he attacked your neck, leaving gentle bites that tickled as you squirmed and sighed. 

“Shall we try and break the bed again?” Azriel offered, still smiling. 

“I think we can do more than try.” You grinned mischievously. You rolled over top of Azriel, tracing the smooth skin of his chest before bracing your hands over his heart. 

And so the frenzy began. 

6 weeks later

You leaned forward, chest pressing against Azriel’s as you gave him a drowsy, content smile. Steam coated the bathroom mirror in a film and condensed on the bottles you’d carefully arranged alongside the bathtub. One of the bottles was empty. It had taken that much to fill the Illyrian-sized tub until you and Azriel were both comfortably submerged in bubbles that smelled of sea salt and lavender. A platter of food — courtesy of the Cottage — gleamed on the low-rise table beside you, cheese, nuts, and cuts of meat half-eaten. 

Azriel tore off a piece of bread, dipped it in honey, and placed it on your tongue. He tilted his head back in thought. “The first floor bath?” He suggested. 

“The first floor has a bath?” 

Azriel smiled and you heard the scratching of pen on parchment as his shadows wrote down the room. 

Just this morning Rhysand had gently knocked on the doors of your mind, asking if you and Azriel would ever come back home to Velaris or if they should consider themselves abandoned. The prospect of hiding away in the Cottage forever was tempting, but you and Azriel had agreed on a flexible deadline — you’d both return to Velaris once you had… hmmmm, marked each room of the Cottage. 

“We haven’t done it outside.” You offered, looking out the window. The mid-afternoon sun hung lazily in the sky, rendering even the birds and insects drowsy. 

“We agreed the porch counts, remember?”

“Since when?” You sat up straight, water sloshing around your waist. 

“Since the last time we slept there two weeks ago.” 

You rolled your hips down, resting your head on his shoulder and peering up with a look that would have put him on his knees if he wasn’t already on his back. 

“We’ll add it to the list.” Azriel breathed out tightly. 

There was more scratching of pen on paper. 

You decided that of all the rooms in the cottage, you liked the conservatory the best. When Azriel was making those beautiful noises against you, arms wrapped around your back and pressing you into the floor, you could watch the stars as they moved in the sky and drew close to the Shadowsinger. When it rained you could feel the electricity splinter through the sky, almost in tune with your body. 

Azriel was partial to the library in the second floor’s west wing. You’d spent days there propped up on every wall and bent over every piece of furniture until you could name over a dozen species of wood. 

You blushed just to think about it as you sank beneath the bath bubbles. 

Azriel sat in a chair beside the tub, damp hair curling over his forehead as he read aloud from a book you’d stumbled upon during your… activities. 

The frenzy had finally burned its way through your system, leaving you sore in places you didn’t know possible. It had taken you and Azriel two days just to sleep off the exhaustion, tangled up in bedsheets heavy with your scent. 

You leaned your head against his shoulder, breathing in the smell of night-chilled mist and cedar. Azriel wordlessly kissed your temple, slipping his hand into your hair and dragging his nails along your scalp until you were sighing in contentment. 

This… this felt right. You wanted Azriel to know that he was everything. He was the wash of color over the world that makes things bright and safe. He was the only person you felt perfectly at home with. Someone to trust with your body and heart as much as your mind. Someone whose touch you could never dream of shying away from ever again. 

I know, my Y/n. Hazel eyes met yours, warm and soft. And you must know that you are everything to me as well. 

Everything? You smiled softly at him.

Everything. He replied.

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

______________

Author's Note:

*insert meme* Why is it spicy?

This was my first try writing anything explicit so... hope you enjoyed it! Only took us half a year and 100k+ words to get to a spicy scene LOL

^^ this has been both my reaction, and Y/n's reaction

As always, I appreciate you immensely for reading and would love feedback/to hear what you guys think! We're nearing the end folks!

[kurokawaia]

❛ CLOSING THE DISTANCE ❜

Tomioka Giyuu X Fem!Reader

WC; 1.3k+ | !MDNI! | TW/CW; no warnings, giyuu kills a demon infront of us, reader is his wife, giyuu is distant + more?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚𝑅𝐸𝒬𝒰𝐸𝒮𝒯 :: (filled request) Heyy, i was wondering if you could write a request with tomioka giyuu and reader where they are married/dating but hes really distant with her. One night she gets attacked either by a demon or someone breaking in 🤷‍♀️ and he saves her and like after that its all yours. ❤️❤️❤️ - @toastytoes0

m.list | demon slayer m.list

Giyuu was never really the talkative type, even when the two of you had finally gotten together, and then married, he was still the reserved, few-word type, and his words still both carried an obvious sense of retraction.

He used to converse with you more often when the two of you were just in your girlfriend and boyfriend stage, but now, he's fully withdrawn, barely speaking to you, his wife, who waits for him patiently for him every night. 

Not to say he didn't care-you knew that much, he did in his own little ways. 

On missions, he would disappear from your shared house and return with even fewer words. His eyes were always clouded by something which not even you could figure out.

When you were catering to his injuries, only a few words came from his mouth at best, other than that, it was just soft hisses slipping from his mouth due to the disinfectant.  You reached for him, over and over, you and him, but so often it was as if you just wasn't quite in reach. The nights had been the most difficult. He'd lie beside you, his body would be quite stiff which made you always have a welling guilt bubble up in you as if you did something wrong. But, it was as if he were afraid that even in his sleep he might accidentally draw too close. Giyuu had left earlier that day for a mission and was not expected to return until morning. You were used to being alone, but that night felt off. There was a something hanging in the air, an apparent aura of danger that you couldn't shake.

You were okay. There is wisteria incense burning outside, so you're okay. You shook off the eeirer feeling, deciding to busy yourself with tasks that would take your mind off the sensation. However, no matter how much you busied yourself, that feeling of worry continued to grow stronger in your gut.

A deep and shaky breath leaves your mouth as you calm yourself down. YOu then continued with busying yourself. But then, you found yourself looking out the window, watching as the shadows got longer due to the moon.

That feeling of being watched never left.

You decided to retire to bed, praying that sleep would take you first before anxiety could really set in. As you lay out your shared futon, and snuggle into the sheets, pulling the blanket up to your nose you found yourself unable to sleep, the pounding of your heart was too loud to sleep. And so, midnight came, and your heart wasn't slowing down.

Well into midnight, you heard it, and that's a shaky, quiet gasp that slips past your mouth due to the soft creaking of a floorboard and the gentle rustle of movement. Freezing, your heart pounded inside the chest. Someone-or something-was inside the house. You had barely time to react when, with a burst of speed, your bedroom door swung open, a huge, dark figure filled the doorway, while its silhouette was poorly outlined by the faint moonlight that filtered through the window. Your body instinctively curled up while the figure moved towards you. But before the figure could get any closer, a blur of movement shot through the room. A clanging sound of metal to metal echoed within the small room, followed by an anguished grunt. You look up in time and see Giyuu- Quickly, his blade cutting through the demon. It was over in a matter of seconds. The figure slumped to the ground, dead, and Giyuu stood over them, as they disintegrated into the air. For several moments, neither of you budged. Then suddenly, as if snapped out of his trance, Giyuu turned to you, his eyes wide with guilt. Letting his sword fall to the ground, he whirled himself up to his feet and ran toward your side. The clatter of his sword against the floor sent an echo through the room. Are you hurt?" His voice was rough.

He reached out, his hands trembling over where to touch you. You shook your head wordlessly. The shock from the attack and suddenly seeing your generally distant husband was too much to absorb all at once, and you found yourself reduced to staring up at him, brimming with tears. Giyuu's face softened at the sight of you, his hand finally coming up to rest against your cheek. The warmth touching you sent a shiver running down your back, you leaned into the touch, desperate for any comfort you could recieve. "I'm sorry," he whispered, voice breaking, "I'm so sorry. You'd blinked. Giyuu had never apologized much less voice himself so candidly. "Why?" you croaked out, voice shaking. "Why have you been so distant? Giyuu's hand on your cheek had tightened slightly, his thumb stroked the tear that had escaped your eye. "I... I thought it was for the best. I did not want to hurt you one day, that I have been killed on a mission, and never returned to you. I thought it was best to distance myself, so that maybe if that did happen, it would hurt you less." You shook your head, a sob escaping your lips. "But you're my husband Giyuu, and I want to share that burden with you, be there for you, no matter how dark it will be.

"In a way," he whispered, so low. "I was afraid-afraid that if I did, I'd lose you." You reached out with your free hand and gently touched his, your fingers intertwining with his. "You won't lose me," you promised, trying to keep your voice steady when it was still quivering from the falling tears. "But you will if you keep pushing me away." He pulled you close to him, clasping you tightly against his chest, as if he really did fear you would disappear should he let go. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his familiar scent as you let yourself finally relax in the circle of his arms.

He hugged you like you were the most precious thing in the world, and in this moment, you knew things would go differently from here on out. Giyuu leaned down, pressing a soft kiss against your forehead, his lips staying there.

"I'll protect you," he whispered low. "I'll always protect you."

And for the first time, you did believe him.

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

m.list| demon slayer m.list

[whispersoftheton]

hey! may I request some wedding day fluff/smut?? 🤭

HI MY LOVE <3 Thank you so so much for requesting & I apologize for taking so long with this one but I hope you like it!

Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: smut: oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering

Word Count: 763

Wisteria and Lilacs adorned the entryways and every staircase of Aubrey Hall. Where guests once overflowed the corridors with endless drinks and food, now silence in its place. The positively exquisite wedding dress from the modiste was now replaced with a delicate nightgown tailored to perfection. Stars adorned the night sky, each twinkle gleaming down upon the balcony of the lavish home. Tranquility became you as you overlooked the gardens just outside your bedroom. The joyous celebration that was your wedding day may have come to an end, but the night brought an entirely new thrill. Distant footsteps echoed in the room, returning you to reality and away from your train of thought as your husband approached from behind you. Firm hands anchored at the base of your hips, making you instinctively lean back onto his chest. He kissed your shoulder and the tender skin of your neck, lulling you deeper into his embrace.

"Mhm." Anthony sighed while tracing your bare skin with his fingertips. "Now, just how did I get so lucky?" A grin spreads on your face, goosebumps rising with every pass of his touch as you turn around in his hold. His lips instantly molded to yours, moving in sync with one another, the hunger and anticipation growing with every swipe of his tongue. Anthony's grip tightened, pulling you flush against his body until there was not an ounce of space between you. His mouth worked its way from your lips and along your neckline, paving the way toward your chest. Taking his time to taste every inch of you he could. Anthony wasted no time in tearing down your nightgown to reveal yourself to him and teasing a nipple with his tongue, then moving to the other. Every movement was as if he was taking his time to worship your body. Your eyes screwed shut, and your head tilted back, giving him more access before you felt his lips leave you entirely. Your skin grew cold without the warmth of his lips as your eyes widened at the sight before you. Anthony was already on his knees, his hands feverishly lifting your nightgown, your delicate lace underwear already soaked, driving him mad with want.

"Anthony, please. I want you." You attempted to draw him back up to your lips, but it was of no use. His gaze darkened as it set on your core.

"And you'll have me. But I must taste you first." He began removing the remaining barriers of clothing. Now bare before him, Anthony hooked one of your legs around his shoulder and caressed your inner thighs. His eager tongue traced your slit, making you arch your back toward him. It wasn't long before his fingers dug into the outer flesh of your thighs as he devoured you like a man starved. Your fingers tangled in his hair as he took your clit into the warmth of his mouth while teasing you with his tongue. You could feel yourself dripping down your thighs. Your breath caught when Anthony plunged one of his fingers into your dripping core. Never pulling his lips away, he added a second and eventually a third finger, stretching you further, curling them inside you. Anthony was insatiable, consuming you as if you were his last meal on earth. Your eyes filled with tears, struggling to hold back the lewd moans threatening to escape you as he pumped his fingers in and out of you.

Unable to restrain yourself any longer, your hands tangled in his hair as your orgasm hits you hard and fast. Your hips bucked, and moans echoed off the empty hallways, shuddering under him as your vision went white from the overwhelming pleasure taking over your body. Anthony drank up every bit you were willing to give him as he worked you through your orgasm. Reveling in your pleasure as if it was his own before rising back to his feet.

"Now." You were pliant in his arms as he accentuated every word with a kiss on your neck. "I plan to have pleasure overtake you at least twice more before I can properly have you. I simply cannot have my wife anything less than satisfied on our wedding night."

"I assure you I am more than satisfied." Your breathy reply and blissed-out look were more than enough to bring a cocky smirk to his handsome face.

"We have a long night ahead of us, my love." Anthony took your hand and led you into the bedroom of the main hallways, with your laughter filling the air between you.

Mini Tag List: @bugnug @queenofmean14 @fiction-is-life @thethreeeyed-raven @ssprayberrythings @fatbottomedvirgo @fictional-hooman (let me know if you would like to added by leaving a comment here or dm me if you’d like to be added.removed)

I DO NOT HAVE WATTPAD. I do not consent to having my work reposted, translated, or published to any third party site or app. if anyone sees my work anywhere that is not ao3/tumblr or under any other username that is not whispersoftheton, it has been reposted without my permission

[mikasa-imadebiscults]

hi! can you do headcanons of muzan x male reader headcanons where reader is very strong and loyal to muzan and is 500+ years in demon age? also can they have wisteria demon blood art that they themselves are immune to but it kills both humans and demons if it gets in they’re eyes/nose/ears. the hashira’s a wary of reader because they can go past the wisteria trees and they don’t know how this blood art is possible in the first place. i feel muzan would love how overpowered reader is but also a bit wary of his loved one because of it.

(uh this is kinda long but i think it’s an interesting topic and i haven’t seen anyone else do this 😅)

(Hey Anon! No worries this isn’t long at all, I hope you enjoy these headcannons (despite these hcs being short ;-;) and have a great day!)

Muzan with a Powerful and Loyal Male! S/O

(Warning: Nothing nothing)

- You have his respect.

- He watched you grow stronger and stronger as a demon over hundreds of years and absolutely loves how strong you’ve gotten. Though he loves you way too much to absorb your body and take your abilities.

- You shocked the hell out of him when he found out that you were actually able to withstand wisteria.

- Also your loyalty to him makes him very pleased. You’ll always be his favorite demon.

- He enjoys the fear and wariness that you instill in the Hashira. He often praises you for this.

- Since you are able to go through wisteria trees, Muzan decides to send you on a mission to kill the master of the mansion, his wife, and all of his children.

Masterlist

[lanawrx]

Imagining a peaceful life with Zenitsu, Tanjiro, Inosuke

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Zenitsu

On a rare day off with no missions to worry about, you and Zenitsu found yourselves sitting under the shade of a large cherry blossom tree. The pink petals gently drifted down around you, adding a touch of serenity to the peaceful afternoon.

With the world temporarily free of disruptions, you both took a moment to simply enjoy each other's company, a luxury that felt almost foreign in these troubled times.

As you leaned against Zenitsu, your head resting on his shoulder, he sighed deeply, a mix of contentment and lingering worry. “I wish every day could be like this,” he murmured, his voice soft. “But... I can’t help thinking about Muzan Kibutsuji. What if we never manage to defeat him?”

You squeezed his hand reassuringly, looking up into his warm, yet troubled eyes. “We will, Zenitsu. We have to believe in that.”

He nodded, though a flicker of doubt remained in his gaze. “I try to imagine it, you know? A life without demons, without fear. But even if I can’t see it clearly... I want it so badly. And when that day comes,” he paused, a blush creeping up his cheeks, “I’ll make you my wife. We’ll start a family, and I’ll protect you every day for the rest of my life.”

Your heart swelled with warmth at his words, the sincerity in his voice touching you deeply. The thought of a peaceful life with Zenitsu, of building a future together free from the horrors of the past, was a dream you both clung to.

“Just think,” you said, a smile spreading across your face, “we could have a little house in the countryside, with a garden and maybe even some animals. And we could raise our children in a world where they never have to worry about demons.”

Zenitsu’s face lit up at the idea, and for a moment, the doubt seemed to melt away. “That sounds perfect. I’d do anything to make that happen."

You smiled softly and leaned up to press a kiss against his cheek. "Me too, my love."

Tanjiro

You and Tanjiro rested at the wisteria family residence after a grueling mission, the calmness of the night settled around you. Nezuko slept peacefully beside you, her soft breaths the only sound in the room. The wisteria flowers outside the window swayed gently in the breeze, their sweet scent mixing with the quiet of the night.

The two of you finally had a moment alone, a rare respite in your dangerous lives. He smiled at you, his kind eyes filled with warmth.

“After we defeat Kibutsuji,” he began softly, as if the thought itself was a fragile hope, “I want us to live peacefully, without fear. I want ...to make you my wife. And we can live together, raise a family together.”

His words filled you with a deep sense of joy and comfort, and you couldn’t help but smile back at him. “How many kids do you want?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, not wanting to disturb Nezuko.

Tanjiro's eyes lit up, his thoughts drifting to his own upbringing. “I’d love a big family,” he said, a touch of nostalgia in his voice. “Growing up with so many siblings, there was always love and warmth, even in the hardest times. I want that for us too—a home filled with laughter and love.”

You giggled at the thought of your home bustling with the energy of so many children. "That sounds wonderful, Tanjiro. I can already picture it—our own little haven." Your eyes softened and warmth flooded your cheeks. "You'd be an amazing father."

Tanjiro's smile widened at your words, a soft blush dusting his cheeks. “And you’d be an incredible mother,” he said, his voice full of admiration. He reached out, gently taking your hand in his, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a soothing motion. The warmth of his touch sent a comforting wave through you, grounding you in this serene moment together.

Inosuke

You and Inosuke had been pushing yourselves hard in the yard of the Butterfly Mansion, training with an intensity that seemed to match his boundless energy. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the training grounds, and you could feel every muscle in your body protesting after hours of relentless drills.

You decided it was time for a break, collapsing onto the grass with a sigh of relief. Inosuke, ever the rowdy and determined fighter, watched you with a mix of frustration and admiration. “You can’t just stop now!” he grumbled, his usual fierce demeanor softening slightly as he plopped down next to you. “We’re not done yet! There’s still weaklings out there that need to be taken down!”

You chuckled, feeling a bit of the tension melt away as you looked at him. “Inosuke, we’ve been at this all day. Even the strongest fighter needs a break.”

He huffed, crossing his arms with a stubborn scowl. “I’m strong enough to keep going! I don’t need a break. But… I guess I can sit here for a little while. Not like I’m tired or anything.”

As he settled down beside you, he eyed the food you’d brought along, his eyes lighting up at the sight of it. “You brought food? You’re the best!” He grabbed a piece, shoveling it into his mouth with enthusiasm. “After we beat all the demons, we’re gonna eat so much! And then we’ll take down every weakling that stands in our way! That’s our future, right?”

You laughed softly, enjoying the moment of peace and the way Inosuke’s rough edges softened in these quiet times. “That sounds like a great plan, Inosuke. We’ll enjoy our victories and the food, and we’ll make sure to rest when we need to.”

He nodded, his usual bravado returning even as he savored the meal. “Yeah! And you’ll always be right here with me, pushing me to get better, right? I’m gonna keep getting stronger, and we’ll make sure everyone knows how great we are!”

With a smile, you reached out and patted his shoulder. “Of course. We’ll do it all together. And who knows? Maybe we’ll even figure out what it means to have a family someday.”

Inosuke’s gaze softened as he looked at you, a rare hint of vulnerability in his eyes. “Family… I’m not sure what that means, but as long as you’re with me, I think I’ll figure it out.”

You rested your head against his shoulder, feeling a sense of contentment. “We’ll figure it out together. For now, let’s just enjoy this break and think about all the good things to come.”

Inosuke grinned, squeezing your hand. “Yeah! We’re gonna make the best future ever. Just you wait!”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡ Thanks for Reading! ˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆

[makethatelevenrings]

Regency AU - Jason Todd

@sio-ina-bottle pls don't look at my discord profile and see how long I played Vivaldi and the Bridgerton OST on repeat when writing this I beg of you.

This is part of the 5k followers celebration. There are still spots open! Get your requests in now!

Warnings: period-typical misogyny, alludes to abusive relationships and cheating, allusions to Jason's PTSD/past (war)

The Wayne Ball was one of the highlights of the season, your mother reminded you. It was a full day event that would require you to be at your best for the entire day. You would need to smile until your jaw ached, dance until your shoes pinched your feet, and talk about meaningless things until your brain felt like it might atrophy. But it was necessary to secure a husband.

Ever since your father’s gambling debt increased and your family coffers decreased, the pressure on you grew. Your mother had expressed her regret of it “being like this” but she didn’t seem to care if you liked the man you were supposed to marry. She shoved you at any willing man of the Ton, even if rumors swirled around his late night visits to a brothel or his heavy-handedness with his late wife.

This was your fate, it seemed.

The small crystalline glass of lemonade that you gripped in your hand seemed to be your lifeline. You were unable to dance if you were parched and so you took your time savoring the taste of its tartness against your tongue. Somewhere in the crowd of people, your mother discussed with the other worried mothers of hopeless girls, most likely lamenting over how pathetic your marriage prospects seemed.

Baron Lawrence Crock eyed you from across the room and you blanched, raising your glass to your lips in an attempt to evade his glance. Your dance card was only half-full and you knew he had expressed interest in you before. Yet the stories of his cruelty made you wary. A disinterested man you could marry, but a cruel one?

You slipped past the crush of bodies that lingered on the edges of the dance floor and made your way towards the door. One glance behind you confirmed your suspicions. He was making his way to you. Your mother wasn’t paying attention and even if she was, she would encourage the match. He has a sizable fortune, she would say. With money like that, you could look away when he came home late from a brothel. Just bear him one or two children and you would be fine.

Your heart thudded painfully against your chest as you escaped through the large ornate doors of the ballroom and into the velvet carpeted hall. Gathering your skirts in your hand, you hurried down the hall in any direction but here. Wayne Manor was huge and you hardly knew how to get to the ballroom. Where on earth were you heading?

“Are you alright, miss?” a gentle voice asked you as you skittered around the corner and came face to face with a hall of doors. You blanched but relaxed at the sight of a kindly old butler. He glanced over your shoulder and then smiled at you, a kind and assuring smile rather than the patronizing ones you were so used to at home.

“There’s no one following you, miss.” You startled at his words and shook your head.

“I was just looking for fresh air,” you lied. He gestured to the other end of the hall and you let out a nervous laugh. The butler didn’t appear to judge you. Rather, he seemed to understand you.

“The stars are beautiful from the balcony,” he said gently. “And I am quite proud of the flowers that line the stone. Wisteria, gardenia, and camellia.”

You brightened and took his proffered arm. “I love gardening. I’m currently growing some lilacs, but my gardener, Mrs. Haywood, tells me that I should expand. She lets me help with the vegetables and I find that fresh tomatoes are so much better than anything purchased in the market, don’t you think?”

He chuckled as the two of you stepped onto the stone balcony. “I find myself inclined to agree, miss.” The butler tilted his head towards the shadows and cleared his throat. “Master Jason, I hope you aren’t out here to avoid the ball I so painstakingly helped put together.”

A huff of laughter came from the shadows and a man followed it. The thin light of the moon coupled with the candles that burned in their sconces on the wall gave you a good look at him. He had to be one of the Wayne boys, you noted, with those teal eyes and dark hair, but you had never seen him before.

“Oh.” Your voice failed you for a moment as you took in the sheer size of him. Many of the men of the Ton boasted about their athletic accomplishments, but this man truly looked as though he engaged in some physical pursuit on the regular. A shock of white hair stood out at the front of his dark, messy locks and you had the sudden urge to run your fingers over it.

“I’m sorry,” you found yourself saying. “I didn’t realize someone else was out here. I can go back to th-”

“That won’t be necessary,” the man, Jason, the butler had called him, replied. “Alfred, would you be able to stay for a few moments to ensure Miss…” You offered him his name and he nodded, repeating it in that rough voice of his. “To ensure her propriety.”

A flush of indignation crept up your neck and you averted your gaze from the gentleman. Stepping closer to the fenced off edge, you craned your head up to study the stars. They truly were beautiful like Alfred said.

“Andromeda,” you breathed to yourself. Her stars glittered brightly in the night sky. The myths of antiquity had always fascinated you and you loved connecting the stars to their mythological counterparts.

“The wife of Perseus,” Lord Jason said. He settled in on the other end of the balcony and leaned against the stone. You turned your face away from his unyielding gaze and kept your focus on the sky.

“Chained to the rock because of her mother’s vanity and cruelty,” you continued. “Intended to be a sacrifice for the monster Cetus.”

“Do you believe her to be helpless?”

You considered his question and then turned to finally look at him. There was no judgment in his gaze. No cruelty or spite or anger. There was only curiosity, something you so rarely saw in the eyes of those you met at these balls.

“Yes, but no. She was helpless in that moment, but I think we all have those moments. Those times when someone else must come to the rescue, if not to save us from an outside force, but maybe from ourselves. The theme runs through a lot of stories. Heracles, Tristan and Isolde, Saint George in Spenser’s work. I think she isn’t helpless, no. I think she’s just human.”

He inhaled sharply against the night air and you were afraid that you had said the wrong thing. This wasn’t a proper topic of discussion for a young woman. Perhaps you should go back inside. Your mother was probably looking for you.

You turned to head back inside when his voice stopped you. “And do you believe that he truly fell in love with her with just one look?”

The moon bathed your face as you faced him and he noted the way it made your eyes shine just a little brighter. He had been in the ballroom when you were pressed in the corner, avoiding everyone’s gaze. No matter how hard he tried, he had been unable to tear his gaze from you. When he saw you escape from the ballroom, he took that as his chance to go outside and take a deep breath, maybe smoke a cigarette.

He never accounted for you.

“Is it foolish for me to say that I do believe he did?”

Jason couldn’t tear his eyes from yours and frankly, he didn’t want to. There was something about you that made him want to find the nearest monster that threatened you and slay it. After he came back from war, his family noted the darkness in his eyes and the sleepless nights. He played pretend at these stupid balls with no intention of forcing someone into a loveless marriage. How could he be a good husband when he couldn’t seem to wipe the blood off his hands?

He looked at them now and saw nothing but scarred skin.

“You like to read?” he asked carefully. You seemed more settled now and you made your way back to the stone railing. When your eyes met the sky once more, he took in the soft slope of your neck and the curve of your jaw. His hands curled into fists in an attempt to stop him from reaching out and touching the small tendril of hair that curled around your ear.

“I enjoy it.” You said it as if you had to balance every word. “Do you?”

“The library here at the manor is brilliant,” came his breathless reply. “Books from all around the world. You could read all day for the rest of your life and never finish them all.”

“That sounds wonderful. My parents find little care for books,” you admitted. “My governess tried her best, but I’m sure I’ve missed out on many stories.”

Let me tell them to you, he wanted to say. Rather, he merely replied with, “I could show it to you. The library, that is.”

Alfred cleared his throat, a tinge of regret in the old man’s face, and he gestured towards the open door. “Your mother will be getting worried now, miss.”

“Right. Yes. Sorry.” Jason didn’t understand why you were apologizing. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t hear the drums of war crashing in a neverending echo against his ears. He didn’t see the blood on his hands. He only saw and heard you. And then you were gone.

Two days later, you sat in the drawing room and slid the needle of your embroidery in and out of the smooth fabric. The elegant knot of yarn bloomed upon the canvas, but you found yourself unable to find joy in the small success.

“A caller for Miss,” one of the footmen announced. You set your stitching down and stood next to your mother, fully anticipating Baron Crock to step through the door and into your life.

But it was someone else entirely. Lord Jason Todd-Wayne made his formal introduction with your mother before stepping off to the side of the drawing room with you, still in full view of your chaperone.

“I brought you this,” he said softly, extending a well-worn book out to you from his seat on the opposite seat. You gingerly took it and opened the cover to find that it was an anthology of mythologies from around the world. A surprised gasp escaped you and you looked up in surprise at the man before you. His teal eyes glinted with mischief and something else. Closing the cover, you set the book next to you and busied yourself with pouring him some tea.

Perhaps this was your future. A handsome man discussing books with you as you poured him tea. There was no anger in his fists or eyes. There was no fear in your heart.

If this was your fate, you reckoned, then so be it.

[newtonsheffield]

In the surprise Neddy AU, how long it takes Anthony to propose to Kate? Does he move in with her or do they find a new house together?

Hmm I think it’s about nine months after they start their relationship before Anthony proposes. It might not seem that long but they also already have a child together and that kind of speeds up the process. They’re basically already married. They already have routines and patterns for coparenting their son and that means they skipped the dating casually phase. They dated casually nearly 4 years ago for one night and they got Neddy, this has been a serious relationship from day dot.

At first Anthony moves in with Kate and Neddy I think. It just kind of seems like the right thing, all of Neddy’s stuff is there and his flat’s… well it’s a bit of a bachelor pad honestly. Even though he’s had Neddy for sleepovers before, Kate’s flat just seems more homie.

But I think after a while Anthony sits down and clears his throat.

“I think you and I need to talk about property.”

Kate raised her eyebrow, “If this is about the Mars bar you left in the fridge, I don’t know where it went.”

“Not that kind of property, but I hope you enjoyed it.” Anthony sighed, drumming his fingers as he tried to decide which way to proceed. “I think… that you and I should consider buying a house together.”

Kate blinked at him, “You want to buy a house? With me?”

“Yeah, I mean… we could turf my Mum out of Bridgerton House but it might not look great.” Anthony joked, “Besides I want somewhere that’s ours. Neddy could have a bigger room, he and Newton could have a little garden, we’d have spare rooms in case we had… visitors.”

He watched Kate smile slowly, “Visitors? Were you about to ask me to have another baby with you?”

“I was… about to hint that eventually I would like to finally give into Neddy’s demands for a sibling.”

“In hindsight there should have been signs that he was a future member of the aristocracy.” Kate hummed, “I thought it was just his inherent sense of white privilege.”

“Joke’s on you.” Anthony kissed her cheek, “So…? Should I set up meetings with an estate agent?”

Kate leaned forward, kissing him properly. “Yeah, let’s look for a house.”

Of course they find the perfect house after a few arguments about whether or not they really need a butler’s pantry and why they would need to be near a tube station when they both have cars. Anthony insists on paying over asking to ensure they get it because he knows how much Kate fell in love with that house with Wisteria growing up the side of it and a big kitchen for them to sit at the breakfast table with their son. Because Anthony realised a while ago that he’d do anything for Kate.

[chrystal-ink]

Shadow x GN reader

Sleepy / Wish

A double feature fic This came out slightly more angsty than I originally intended but honestly I'm not mad

-Enjoy (with a little mood music)

The music swelled as you rested your head on Shadow's shoulder, the living room was entirely dark the only source of light was the television which omitted a soft glow illuminating the two of you in a pale blue light.

You stopped paying attention to the movie ages ago, you had been busy all day and the exhaustion was finally catching up to you. You felt your limbs grow heavy, your eyelids becoming more impossible to keep open by the second.

"Do you need to go to bed?" Shadow asked sensing your growing tiredness.

"No, there's only twenty minutes of the movie left I can make it."

You did not.

Shadow picked you up from the couch, thankful that you decided to put on your pajamas before the movie started. He carried you into your shared bedroom and gently placed you on the bed before removing your gloves and placing them on your nightstand.

He pulled the blankets around you tucking you in before placing a kiss between your ears.

The sound of your gentle snoring serenading him as he got himself ready for bed. You were embarrassed about the fact that you snored he found it comforting a sweet reminder that you were still here, still alive on the nights where his nightmares would jolt him awake before you could comfort him.

He memorized your snore knowing that one day he would never be able to hear it again. But he would remember it and remember you for all your perfections, all your flaws, all the times you would drive him crazy, and the times you would comfort him. He loved you all of you and nothing could ever change that.

Shadow climbed into bed wrapping his arms around you pulling you into a sweet embrace.

"good night Y/N I love you so damn much." He whispered before drifting off to sleep.

✨

The stars were shining brilliantly in the night sky. A soft breeze blew the wisteria branches filling the air with the sweet aroma of the flower.

You were watching the stars intensely waiting for the meteor shower to begin. A blanket lovingly draped over your shoulders by your partner fought off the chill of the nighttime.

Shadow refused to wear his blanket insisting he was fine, you knew he was just trying to stay awake, he had been up for awhile his mission took longer than expected meaning he had to skip taking a nap before your date. he refused to miss your date despite your protests. He already had trouble sleeping he shouldn't deprive himself more then he has to, but try telling that to the ultimate lifeform.

"You can take a nap sweetheart, the meteor shower isn't supposed to start for another hour."

"No, I want to watch this with you."

"I'll wake you up I promise. I know how you can get when you're tired you should rest please, for me."

You gave Shadow the biggest puppy eyes you could muster.

"fine. But wake me up when you see the first one got it."

"got it."

He laid down resting his head on your lap your hand reached down stroking his quills humming a lullaby. Within a few minutes shadow had drifted off to sleep, and you were left alone with your thoughts.

He looked so peaceful when he was asleep, like all his problems didn't exist like all the pain he's been through had gone away. You wish you could take all the pain away or at least prevent More from happening.

You knew that he was immortal and that one day he would lose you. you hated the thought of leaving him like that knowing that he would have to live his life moving on from all the people he cared about.

You wished that you were immortal too so that you could be there with him through it all. that he wouldn't have to go through time alone. You would never tell Shadow that, he would scold you telling you that it was a bad idea and that you shouldn't have to live like that with him.

So you kept that wish to yourself. Every birthday candle, every shooting star you wished upon you wished for the same thing hoping that one day fate would smile upon you granting your wish so that shadow could finally get the happy ending he deserved. It was a longshot but who knows, stranger things have happened.

You looked down smiling at the slumbering black hedgehog who stole your heart wrapping him up in his blanket and kissing his cheek.

You continued stroking his head as you looked back up at the sky. Watching for the first shooting star to signal your partner back to the waking world and watch the night that was beautifully gifted to the both of you.

[0xochitlsketches0]

They want crackers

[hayakawalove]

Wisteria and Ciabatta

Part Two

Summary: Traveling merchant Suguru has led a relatively tame life thus far. Growing his flowers, baking his bread. One day, when he ventures out further than normal he comes across something more beautiful than all the flowers in the world. You.

A/N: I'm not really sure where this came from. I don't expect it to get a huge reaction, just because it's like way niche. But I couldn't get this out of my head. I am like pretty certain there will be a part two with smut, but this first chapter is just very sweet. This chapter can be read alone, you won't need to read the next one if you don't want to. Suguru is a loserboy in this but I like him that way. Enjoy!

CW: SFW, food, fluff

W/C: 5,608

The forest was quieter than usual today, he couldn’t help but notice. Suguru had become well acquainted with the sounds of the forest over the years. He traversed them for work often, always traveling from town to town to sell his flowers and bread. Flowers from his own backyard, and bread made to perfection from his own two hands. He enjoyed the way people's faces lit up when they saw the beautiful flora or when the food passed their lips. Suguru had to go out of his way today, venturing out further than normal. He didn’t sell as much as he wanted to in the towns near his home, so he figured he may as well see if anyone else would be interested. 

Lavender, Hydrangea, Yarrow. 

Suguru ran the list through his mind repeatedly. The basket he carried beside him held heaps of flowers, all trimmed to perfection. Along with the flowers he had several loaves of bread. 

Dutch, Rye, French. 

His footsteps slow when he notices a cluster of homes come into view. It was a small town, one he had never been to before. There couldn’t have been more than 50 buildings, but they were all full evident by the smoke rising from each chimney. His feet fall onto the stone path as he makes his way to the first house. When he knocks, he plasters a smile on his face. He had danced this routine many times before, always donning a careful mask when interacting with potential customers. 

“Hello?” An old man opens the door carefully. He must have been twice as short as Suguru. 

“Hello, I’m selling flowers and bread. Would you be interested in buying any?” 

The man opens his mouth to decline when a woman’s voice sounds out behind him. 

“Who is that?” 

She hobbles into view, situating herself beside what Suguru can only assume is her husband. 

“This fellow is selling flowers and bread, I was just going to-“ 

“You never buy me flowers anymore!” 

Suguru averts his gaze, training them on the floor below. He doesn’t mind being there while they argue, but he’s learned that an unwanted ear can make people uncomfortable. 

The old man grumbles before walking away further into the house to grab his money. Suguru can feel her eyes wandering over him. He digs his hand into his basket and produces a Hydrangea. 

“On the house.” He speaks quietly, winking at her. 

Her face flushes as she takes the flower, admiring the color. Her husband comes back and counts his cash before handing it to Suguru who doesn’t bother counting it. He grabs a heap of flowers, all three types tossed in, before handing them to the man. 

“Thank you, sir.” Suguru smiles before stepping back, watching him give the flowers to his wife. 

An adorable moment by nature. It almost feels too vulnerable to see the look of love on the old woman’s face as she receives the gift. 

Suguru continues on to the next house, selling flowers and bread as he goes. He went to every house in town until there was only one remaining. 

He walks up to the dwelling, knocking on the door and waits patiently for whoever’s living there. 

The door opens, your body standing there. 

If you asked Suguru a day ago what he thought the most beautiful thing was he would say a dicentra or maybe even tulips. That was before he saw you. Your cheeks like petals, soft and plump. You also had eyes that shined brighter than the early morning dew that clung to his garden. You were magnificent. You were the most beautiful flower he had ever seen. 

“Hello?” 

Suguru never found himself speechless. Throughout his life he had found himself in a multitude of situations that would warrant it, but he wasn’t, not even once. He had trained himself on how to smile and talk to people, he prided himself on it. No one was too hard to talk to. 

Until he met you. 

His lips refused to cooperate with him, throat muddled up. You look up at him expectantly, waiting for him to say something. 

“I’m selling homemade bread and flowers.” 

Idiot.

That’s what he decided to say? Not even a proper hello first? 

“Oh, lovely. I was hoping to make something for dinner but didn’t have anything around the house. How much for the bread?” You ask, digging in your pocket for money. 

Suguru tears his eyes from you, a painful task, and opens his basket. Most of his inventory was gone. He did have a loaf of Dutch bread at the bottom of the basket, the sight of it mocking him. He couldn’t give you that. It was no longer fresh, and it was cold to the touch. He couldn’t give you it. 

You pull out your hand, palm cupped with money. 

“I’m out of bread.” He finds himself saying. 

Your brow raises. A beat passes before you speak. 

“Okay, what about flowers?” 

He wordlessly thanks your graciousness. In his basket he finds two Yarrows. All of his flowers were beautiful, but he found himself cursing God for not making anything more beautiful. 

Suguru holds them up to you, fighting back a whimper when your hand grazes him as you pluck the stems from his grasp. 

“How much?” 

“You don’t have to pay.” 

He would never force you to pay for anything, especially not something that could never rival your beauty. 

He watches your lips slowly morph into a smile. 

“You’re an interesting merchant.”

He’s sure you’re making fun of him, but he doesn’t care. His cheeks feel hot as he looks into your eyes. 

“I was planning on visiting this village again tomorrow, I will bring more bread then.” 

He wasn’t planning on visiting this village again until now. It had been a random stop he never was going to make again. 

Your eyes flit down to the Yarrow, admiring them. 

“You know where to find me.” 

~~~

Suguru’s feet hurt when he finally arrives back home. He wants to go to bed but he can’t. Not when he needs to make bread for you. Usually he had extra dough laying around, but he didn’t. Even if he did, he would’ve preferred to make it fresh. He works tirelessly as he prepares the dough, pouring all his love into it. Flour cakes under his fingernails, his palms hurting from kneading the dough for so long. 

He wouldn’t dream of complaining. Not when he knew who this was for. He didn’t even catch your name. Once he knew it, he would spell it in the stars so everyone did too. 

Suguru barely gets any sleep. It was a concoction of baking and nerves. His house smells like bread while he walks around, preparing for his long journey ahead. He searched in his kitchen before finding a small jar of homemade strawberry jam. One of his neighbors, a kind elderly widow, had made it for him. They often traded breads and jams, occasionally sharing them outside when the weather was right. 

Once everything was ready, he placed it all in his basket before setting off into the forest again. 

The walk was way faster than he remembered it being. His mind was too clouded with thoughts of you. He enters the town, making his way directly to your house first thing. He wasn’t even really sure if he was going to go to the other houses after. 

The door rattles with his fist, and he wills the butterflies going off in his body to settle down. 

If he had at all been worried your beauty was a fluke, which he wasn’t, his worries certainly died down the moment he looked at you for a second time.

You’re just as beautiful the second time around as you were the first. 

Your chest was heaving with sweat lining your forehead. You must’ve been hard at work. Doing what, he wondered? 

“It’s you.” 

“It’s me.” He responds with a smile. “Much more prepared this time, I’m sorry.” He doesn’t want to tell you he stayed up until the sun rose to prepare your bread.

A sly grin breaks across your face. You lean against the door frame, your eyes sliding down his figure. Suguru can feel his skin tingling with each inch your eyes covered. 

“What have you brought for me today?” 

Suguru holds up his basket and reveals the fresh bread. It was a simple loaf of wheat bread, and although it was basic, it was renowned as his best selling one. He feels his heart flutter the second the scent reaches your nose, your face lightening up. 

“That smells wonderful.” 

“Tastes wonderful too, or so I’ve been told.” 

You open the door a bit more, revealing the rest of the house behind you. It was humble, an aboad that was probably common in these parts of town. 

“Why don’t you come in and share it with me?” 

The offer stops Suguru in his tracks. Out of all the things you could have said to him, he wasn’t expecting that. 

The first thought that crosses his mind is flattery. You want to eat with him? 

The second feeling that follows after is worry. You want to eat with him, and he’s a stranger. 

“You hardly know me.” He speaks. 

The idea that you would open your door to just anyone frightened him a bit. What if it was someone with bad intentions? 

“What’s your name?” 

You don’t look afraid, even though Suguru feels you should be. 

“Suguru.” 

You toss his name across your brain several times. You say your name back and step away, letting him come in. 

“Now you know my name and I know yours. Share it with me?” 

He's touched by your kindness, but still mildly unnerved at the idea you might do this for someone with unsavory motives. 

It’s hard to refuse your offer, so he finds himself stepping in after you. The close proximity whisks his breath away but you hardly notice. You don’t even spare him a glance as you head over to your table. 

You sit down and look up at him, waiting for him to join you. He places the basket on the table before rummaging around, pulling the loaf out.

“I also brought more flowers, in case you were interested.” 

“Will you let me pay this time?” 

“Maybe.” No, he wouldn’t. 

Suguru didn’t need any form of payment. As long as he got to see the joy on your face again, that was all he needed. 

You grab a knife and begin to slide through the loaf, slicing several pieces for the two of you. He wondered if you were able to tell he made the bread fresh for you. Did the warmth of it tingle your fingers? Could you feel the love that seeped from it? 

Suguru pulls out the jam and sets it aside. 

“What’s that?” You ask. 

“My neighbor made it. It’s strawberry.” 

You pick up the jar, eyes gliding across the glass in amazement. 

“Where do you live? The people in this town don’t bake bread or make jam. Maybe I should move to your town.” You joke. 

Don’t say that, he thinks. If you say that, he might beg you to. 

He hardly knows you, yet he’s finding himself completely entranced by you. He aches to learn more. 

“A town further South. A couple hours at most.” He keeps his eyes trained down on your hands, watching as you spread the jam on the bread. 

Only when the silence stretches on for too long does he rip his eyes from your fingers, looking up. 

He doesn’t know whether he should be startled or not at the face you’re making. Your eyes are open wide, like you’re looking through him. 

“Hours?” You repeat. 

Suguru nods, his brows raising. 

“I didn’t see a horse.” 

“I walked.” 

You stutter a bit before placing the knife down, pushing the plate in the middle of the table. Suguru’s eyes drift down, the intimacy of sharing a dish not lost on him. 

“I could never walk that long.” You murmur, picking up a piece of bread, raising it to your lips. 

Suguru tries not to stare at the way your lips part, but it’s difficult. 

“It’s not that bad.” He pulls his piece up to him, taking a bite. 

“Not everyone has such long legs.” You say around the food. 

Suguru’s mouth perks up, a smile gracing his features. He was used to people commenting on his height, but he felt an extra ounce of pride when you were the one saying it. 

You mumble around the food, hand flying up to cover your mouth. 

“Suguru, this is wonderful!” Excitement seeps from your words and Suguru’s heart jumps. 

“Thank you.” He dips his head down, suddenly bashful. 

The two of you share the meal, words flowing flawlessly between you. 

“It’s a shame that my father isn’t here, I’m sure he would love this as much as I do.” You comment. 

Suguru leans back, not sure if this is a touchy subject. 

“He’s just out of town today, I’ll share some with him when he comes back. Maybe.” You smirk. 

“What does he do for work?” 

“He helps people get their farms up and running. I think he traveled to help a young couple get theirs set up.” 

Suguru begins to daydream about owning a farm with you. Would you adore his flowers as much as he did? Would you let him do all the work? He wouldn’t mind it, he preferred it. 

He knew he was getting ahead of himself, but he couldn’t help the infatuation that grew in his heart. 

Besides, Suguru never was one to love normally or calmly. 

“I was trying to clean the house before he returns, but I must admit I’m having a hard time reaching things.” 

“Would you allow me to help? I’ve got long legs, you know.”

A song floats over to his ears, a song built on your laughter. He could get used to that. 

“I couldn’t make you do that. I already dragged you inside to eat with me. I’m sure you have much more important things to be doing.” 

Never, he thinks. Nothing would be more important than this. 

“It’s okay.” He says plainly. 

He watches as you seem to be debating inside your head. You give up, standing up to carry the dishes to the sink. 

“I would love help changing out the candles.” You say sheepishly. 

Suguru waits as you leave to go find the extra candles, his head racing with thoughts. After you finished, there would be no reason for him to stay. He would have to go back home. He wanted to stay and talk with you more. Your words facisnated him. He felt like a child, the way he longed to hear you tell him stories. He didn’t want to go home. Not when being with you felt more like home than his own ever did. 

“I found them.” You speak, snapping him out of it. 

You guide him around the house, showing him every spot that needed a new candle. 

It should be a simple task for him. He finds it increasingly difficult, however. He feels your eyes bore into him each time he reaches up, making his heart pound. Even though it’s easy to do, he’s just replacing old candles, he almost feels like he’s never done anything so hard before. He can feel the way your eyes track his movement, almost making it impossible to focus. His linen shirt suddenly feels too hot, as he tries to keep his eyes on his hands. 

“There, how does that look?”

You stare at the metal candle holder for a minute before nodding, a soft hum coming from your lips. 

“It looks wonderful, Suguru.”

He decides no one has ever said his name as beautifully as you do. 

He steps back, following you towards the kitchen. He can tell that he needs to leave, but a small part of him is upset at that fact. 

“Will you be in town anytime soon? I’d love to purchase more bread, if that’s alright.” You stare at him as he gathers his things. 

He nods, and looks down at you. 

“I can come back in several days.” 

“Fantastic, I’ll be looking forward to it.” You say happily. 

So will I, Suguru thinks. 

~~~

Suguru leans back, watching you chew a new recipe he tried for bread. So far, so good, he thinks. Your lips are played in a smile as you taste it, swallowing it with a sigh. 

“I don't think you can make something bad.” 

“Is that a challenge?” Suguru jokes. 

“One you’d fail, I’m sure.” 

Your flattery causes his heart to race, a throb settling deep in his chest. 

“I wish I could bake like you.” You say. 

“I could teach you, if you’d like. It isn’t that hard.” 

Your eyes flash with excitement and Suguru has to swallow the knot that forms in his throat. 

“You can?” 

Yes, anything for you. 

“Sure. I can bring the ingredients tomorrow.” 

You jump up and down in your seat, chattering away to him about all that you want to do with the bread. Are you aware of how you make his stomach twist? He thinks there’s no way you are. 

~~~

When Suguru comes the next morning he has a burlap sack filled to the brim with ingredients, all for your bread. You open the door the second he knocks it, taking him by surprise. 

“I apologize, I didn’t sleep much last night.” You say all giddy, opening up the door more. 

Suguru steps inside and follows you to your table. You already have it set up according to how he told you. There’s bowls and spoons, all perfectly set. His hair is already tied back, so all he needs to do is roll up his sleeves. 

He stands next to you, reading out what ingredients to add next. He watches over your shoulder as you eagerly mix, chuckling to himself when some of it spills out the sides. 

“Slowly, sweetheart.” He murmurs. 

You apologize quietly, following his order of slowing your hand down. 

It was looking good, but now was the time to start getting your hands dirty. 

“The next step is to knead it. You do this by placing it on the table, and pressing your hands into it.” Suguru explains, watching you scrap the bowl and plop the dough in front of you. 

“Mmm like this?” You ask, folding it over itself. 

“Just like that, a little more pressure.” He adds. 

Without even thinking, he reaches his arms on either side of you, correcting your form to knead it harder. His hands hover over yours, pressing your palms down more against the plush dough. 

“You have big hands.” You chuckle, and suddenly Suguru’s aware of what he’s doing. 

“Oh, my bad. I shouldn’t have-“ 

“No, it’s okay. You should keep your hands there, so I don't mess up.” You correct him. 

You turn your head over your shoulder, looking at him. His face is unbearingly close to yours, heat from your cheeks radiating off and scorching his face. He looks deep into your eyes before you’re quickly looking back down, watching the bread below your hands. 

Suguru berates his heart as he helps you, hoping it slows down. That moment with you kept repeating in his mind, over and over again. 

He snaps out of it when you squeal, pulling the bread from the oven. The top of it is perfectly golden, the smell of it filling your tiny kitchen. 

“Look, Suguru!” You say, placing it down. 

He looks over the top of your head and smiles. 

“It looks good, let’s wait for it to cool before we try it.” 

He would have liked to wait a little longer, afraid it would burn your tongue, but he couldn’t say no with the way you were tilting back and forth, begging to cut into it. Suguru takes the liberty, pouring the bread from the pan before sliding a knife down the side of it. It cuts smoother than butter, steam wafting up from it. 

“Okay, let’s try it.” Suguru raises a small piece, holding it in his hand as he lifts it to your mouth. 

The heat soaks into the pads of his finger tips, but he’d much rather get burned than you. You look down and blow on the bread, Suguru has to force himself not to gasp at the air caressing his skin. You look up at him and take a bite, smiling as crumbs dust your lips. 

“It’s so good!” You murmur around the mouth full of food. 

Suguru uses his other hand to lift up a separate piece, taking a slight nibble. It was fantastic. Sweeter than the bread he made, he wondered if that was just because you were the one who created it. 

“You may put me out of business.” He jokes.

You pull your piece from his hand, holding it tightly next to your face. A shame, he thinks. He would’ve preferred for you to keep eating from his palm. Did that say something about him? 

“I might, you better watch over your back.” You say, eating the rest of your bread with a grin. 

“I will.” Suguru says back, treasuring the way the food melts on his tongue. 

~~~

“Hey Suguru?” 

The two of you have settled into a comfortable routine, as he had visited a couple of more times, always sitting in your kitchen to share a plate of bread with you. 

He flicks his eyes up to you before looking back down. 

“Is the forest dangerous?” You finish. 

Suguru takes a moment to think. He’s never thought about it before. His feet have carried him through the trees for countless years. 

“Not really. The only thing you have to look out for is bandits.”

He takes a moment to appreciate the way you’re gaping at him. 

“I’ve never seen any though. Just know they’re out there.” 

“They’d be a fool to try to rob you.” You mutter under your breath. 

Suguru lets out a quiet chuckle. Any reason to point out his height, you’d take it. 

“As children we’re warned not to go in too deep.” You mumble. 

“I can bring you if you like? They have some Gardenia’s there, not too deep in. We can go and get them if you want?” 

“You’d keep me safe from bandits?”

Yes, you don’t even have to ask. He’d go toe to toe for you.  

“Of course.” 

The more he got to know you, the more Suguru grew to like you, really like you. It was no longer infatuation, it grew into something more beautiful and large. 

He notices you dip your head down at the tone of his soft voice. You have a few habits he’s picked up on. One of them is every reaction you have to his words. You like to poke and prod him, but the second he pushes back or uses a specific tone you look away, teeth nibbling on your lip. It’s adorable, he thinks. 

~~~

You both decide to go to the forest tomorrow. He decides to stay in your town overnight because there would be no point in making the long trek back to his only to come back tomorrow morning. You offered a bed in your house, knowing your father would not have it, but Suguru declined. It would be improper, he told you. He had never felt his body fight so hard against him before. Even though it’s hard for him to say no, he doesn’t relent. He ends up staying at the only Inn in town. It was a normal house, with five extra rooms spread out. His host was a sweet older woman who insisted on helping carry his bags to his room. The act pained him, but he knew better than to tell a woman no.

As he lay in bed that night he stared up at the ceiling, thoughts of you curling around his mind. 

You were here, in this town. 

Suguru wakes up earlier than you do. His eyes crack open the second the sun shines through, his body restless. There was so much to show you, he didn’t know where to begin. Along with that, he felt the early onsets of fear begin to take hold. He had never thought about bandits before, but now that you mention it he couldn’t shake the idea. What if there were some when you went out? He wasn’t afraid of taking care of you. He knew he could do that. He just didn’t want you to see something ugly. He feared he would never forgive himself. 

Suguru walks to your house, stopping a short ways away outside to linger near a bunch of trees. He didn’t want to intrude, and he had no idea what you’ve told your father about your relationship with him. 

What was your relationship with him? 

Friendly, he thought. You had always welcomed him with a smile. However there were lingering touches and stolen glances over fresh bread, conversations floating across your tongues easily. He didn’t want to get his hopes up. There was a chance you thought nothing of him, treating him as you would anyone else. 

“Suguru!” 

His head shoots up the second his name falls from your lips. 

“I apologize for making you wait.” You say, stopping short in front of him. 

You look like you got together hastily, sleep marks imbedded in your flesh with several of your hairs out of place. 

Did you know how perfect you were? 

“I wasn’t waiting long, are you ready to go?” 

Suguru smiles at the excitement spreading across your face. He knew the flowers were in bloom, but he wasn’t sure they could rival you. 

As the two of you walk, you take careful calculated steps as you notice the weather. It was sunny without being too temperamental. You could hear laughter of the village children carrying over the wind to you. Suguru listened to you as you rattled on, occasionally dropping his input, but he much preferred to listen. 

When the trees started to get thicker Suguru noticed you start to walk closer to him. It was cute, the way you looked towards him for shelter and protection. 

“I think this is where I saw them last time.” Suguru says aloud, stopping to the side and looking around. 

“They’re bright red, so they're easy to spot.” 

He sees excitement curl in your eyes at the prospect of finding some hidden treasure, even if that treasure was just flowers. 

Suguru locates them after several minutes, grabbing your hand and leading you towards it. There were several bushes laid together, all of them overflowing with the red petals. 

He smiles to himself at the gasp you let out, your fingers tentatively reaching forward to kiss the leaves. 

“Pretty, right? I always think about taking some home with me so I can plant them but I can never bring myself to do it. They look much better out here anyhow.” 

Suguru sits next to you as you stare at the bush. He finds it cute that you’re interested in his interests. If you asked, he would tell you anything you wanted to know about plants or baking. Suguru wasn’t an expert in everything, but he was an expert in those. 

“Suguru, thank you for showing me these.” Your voice trails off, still focused on what was in front of you. 

He smiles and picks a red Gardenia, careful placing it behind your ear. 

“Anytime.”

Your hand trembles as you reach up to touch the flower on your ear. The forest was silent, save for the sounds of birds and bugs, complete serenity falling over you. 

The only way Suguru’s able to tell that time is passing is by the view of the sun, now completely overhead, shining through the canopy of trees around you. Neither of you wanted to leave, so instead you lay on your backs, looking at the trees above you. The leaves and sun paint beautiful pictures, yellow shapes being shined upon your skin. 

“Hey Suguru?” 

Suguru hums, turning his head to the side to look at you. 

Your arm is outstretched, holding the flower he gave you in front of you. Your fingers are twirling it around, spinning the flower over and over. Suguru’s dizzy at the sight, but he can’t tell if it’s because of your beauty or the the spinning. 

“They say flowers have a language of their own, don't they?” 

Suguru’s lashes flit as he memorizes the lines on your face, wanting to capture this moment. 

“They do.” 

“Do you know the meanings of flowers?” 

“Some of them.” 

Suguru sits up and pulls the tie from his hair, letting the black silk cacoon him. He looks over his shoulder back at you, but you’re too preoccupied with the sight of the twirling. 

“What does this one mean?” 

Suguru ponders for a moment, unsure whether or not he should tell you. Would it come off too strong? He couldn’t bare the thought of lying to you though. He’s a strong man so he fights the urge to look away from you when he says, 

“Secret love.” 

He swears the forest ceases all sound at that moment, that or the beating of his heart is far louder than anything else. 

“Is that so?” You ask, peeking around the bright flower to look at him. 

He hums, waiting to see if you would have a negative reaction. Would you get up and leave him here, never to allow him back into your home? He wouldn’t blame you. 

A demure smile spreads across your face, sitting up until you’re laying on your elbow. You bring the flower to your face, taking in a deep breath before you sit up completely. Suguru tracks your movements carefully. 

“In that case,” you say, sliding the flower behind Suguru’s ear, the bright pop of red constrasting with his dark hair. 

Suguru swears his heart stops beating in that moment, his body completely rigid with surprise. You knew the meaning of the flower, and you were giving it to him? 

A silent understanding flows between you two, Suguru no longer on edge as the seconds pass. You both are aware now, your feelings as out in the open as they could be without physically saying it. It was funny, the flower meant secret love but his admiration for you was no longer a secret. 

“It’s a shame we can’t stay out here forever.” You say.

You lay back down, closing your eyes. 

Suguru silently agrees, leaning back until he’s laying next to you, much closer this time. He wonders what’s going to happen next. Would he be able to court you properly, would your father accept him?

He hears you shuffle around before your face pops into view, blocking out the sun above him. His brows raise in surprise as he looks at you. You looked nothing short of an Angel, golden light haloing around your head as you smile down at him. 

“I know you’re busy where you live, but why don't we meet in this forest once a week?” You say. 

“Or I can walk down and meet you closer to your village, that might be easier.” 

No, he couldn’t handle the idea of you walking these forests alone, or walking that long at all.

“Let’s meet here.” Suguru agrees, reaching a hand up to cup your cheek. 

Neither of you want to be the one to look away first. So instead, you just continue to gaze into the others eyes. 

Suguru hears an older man call your name just outside the sanctity of the forest. It must be your father, and by the sounds of it he was angry. Probably upset that dinner hadn’t been made yet, if Suguru had to come up with a reason. He didn’t want to dislike your father, after all he had a hand in creating you, but he didn’t appreciate the way he treated you. 

“I suppose I’ll have to leave now…” you trail off, your voice caked in sadness. 

Suguru’s grip on your cheek tightens, and he resolves to do something he’s never done before, yet dreamed of countless times. 

He sits up and leans in, his lips ghosting yours. 

“Suguru…” You whisper, looking into his eyes, the movement of your lips tickling his. 

“May I?” Just this once, he wants to beg. Let me taste you just this once. 

He waits for an answer that doesn’t come. Instead, you’re meeting him halfway, kissing him softly. It was everything he had dreamed of. Your lips were soft, the lingering taste of the sweet strawberry jam he always brought to you mingling with his own. 

If only he could stop time. 

If only nothing existed but the two of you. 

As soon as it starts, it’s over. You’re pulling away, your eyes flickering open to look at him. He can hardly breathe under your gaze. His fingers itch with the need to grab you, press you against him, show the love he’s been feeling all this time but has been too afraid to say aloud. 

Suguru’s lips tingle as he watches you slowly rise to your feet. You dip your head in acknowledgment, tossing over your shoulder. 

“Coming, father!” 

Stay, he thinks. Stay. 

“Goodbye Suguru.” You murmur, giving him a smile. 

He watches you scamper out of the forest, feeling like you took his heart with you. 

He isn’t sure he’s ever going to want it back. 

Tag List: @tojislittleprincesss, @dinolvrrr, @kimi01985, @constawrites

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[yamy-brett]

Happy 91st Birthday, Jeremy. You are sorely missed.

From JEREMY BRETT PLAYING A PART by Maureen Whittaker. Quotes by Jeremy Brett.

"It all started for me on 3rd November 1933. I began life with everything a child could wish for. We had a huge, glorious, country house on the outskirts of Berkswell, near Coventry, with tennis courts, squash courts, horses and dogs and a wonderful, terraced garden created by my artistic mother, Elizabeth. The family was spoiled rotten, for we had three live-in staff, plus four other people who came in to help. We always seemed to be entertaining a houseful of fascinating people; the door was always open.”

The Grange, where Peter William Jeremy, was born, is a beautiful house with sweet smelling flowering wisteria on the front elevation and nestled in a magical vista of gardens, landscaped by Elizabeth, known as “Bunny”, who was the centre of this loving family.

The Huggins family was a significant part of the delightful Berkswell village in Warwickshire. William and Elizabeth had decided to move to the rambling, attractive Berkswell Grange in 1929 to accommodate a growing family. The three boys, John, Michael and Patrick, needed somewhere to play and to ride, so a large, impressive house was chosen in nearby Truggist Lane. The house featured seventeenth century timber framing, and nineteenth century additions, including a tiled roof.

Due to its grandeur and welcoming hostess, the Grange was the centre of village events, of Christmas parties, of afternoon teas and of music and entertainment.

William and Elizabeth were both keen archers, so it is no surprise that Jeremy took this seriously and belonged to the Woodmen of Arden, a notable club for the sport. “The whole family were taxophilites. Actually, my mother was a brilliant archer, won many awards. She had a special lightweight bow, and when I was growing up, I used her hand-me-downs. Looking back, I must have been about four or five when my father gave me my first lesson. The outfit is really glamorous – Lincoln green cut-away tailcoat, buff waistcoat with gold buttons, shite slacks, shite shoes and a New Zealand style hat that turns up at the side…”

Archery Week was hosted by the Huggins family at the beginning of August each year and to accompany the competitions on the extensive grounds at the Grange, they featured special balls for about 30 or 40 people for dinner, followed by dancing in the ballroom. “The dancing finished so late that breakfast was often served to the guests before they left for home the following day.”

“Naturally, I’d been practising like mad for the occasion. Firing at 100 yards I nervously let the arrow go. It wobbled in the air and my astonishment landed smack in the middle of the target. I was made Master Forester on my first day – a title which carries with it sitting at the High Table. Socially, archery can be pretty heaving going. That day the lunch ran to 12 toasts and I remember staggering out afterwards full of venison and summer pudding, cheeks pink from the port and nose still twitching from my first pinch of snuff…”

He told one interviewer that he had “a marvellous youth with every kind of animal under the sun, from ferrets to rabbits to mice to horses, to monkeys even. It was like a paradise, and a gorgeous home.”

Jeremy had a very special relationship with all animals. He welcomed dogs as earnestly as he welcomed his friends and often on his knees to greet them, face to face. His own dog, Mr. Binks, was a Jack Russell terrier that he affectionately called his “hound of heaven”.

Elizabeth’s reputation was always one of kindness to others, especially towards the homeless in the community. Gypsies and vagrants were frequent visitors expecting to be fed, have a wash or receive fresh clothing, and Williams shirts or trousers, could often be seen on these visitors leaving the Grange. Mrs. Huggins would go out and find Gypsies, taking them back to the Grange – the Colonel would come home from work to find a “Gypsy encampment with great cauldron in the walled courtyard, and clothes being dried in the saddle-room.”

During the Coventry bombing on 14th November 1940, in which more than four thousand homes were destroyed, including the 14th century cathedral, Jeremy’s mother, alerted by the sirens, the noise of exploding bombs and the sight of leaping flames across the open countryside, left her family to drive to the nearby town to what she could to help those who were caught up in the devastation. “The whole city was ringed with leaping flames, bathed in brilliant moonlight and a few searchlights were sweeping the smoke-filled sky.” Consequently, one family was taken into the Grange and 42 members of the extended family lived there until alternative accommodations could be found. There was no question in her mind about the decision; it was simply her first and characteristic response to suffering. “She was a dazzling woman, half Irish and fully Quaker, and ran our home, a large country house deep in the Black Country outside Coventry, in a sort of Flower Power way, always filling it with people that she’d picked up. I remember her bringing home a whole family called Weston during the war, and all of them stayed in our stables.”

Elizabeth Huggins had an enormous effect on the growing Jeremy and some would say that he was very like her in his response to others. “My mother had this extraordinary way of making us flower, and she had open doors and windows in her soul – that’s the only way I can put it. Everybody came to my mother. She was like a light of great warmth.”

What an amazing beginning to a brilliant gentleman.

This is just the very beginning of JEREMY BRETT PLAYING A PART by Maureen Whittaker.

[lalacliffthorne]

💜 starshine pt. IV 💜

Rhysand x Reader

part I part II part III part IV part V part VI

summary: a promise is fulfilled.

notes: back to our regularly scheduled program of fluff deluxe - with maybe a teeny-tiny sprinkle of angst. come on, I can't just make it that easy.

______________________________________________________________

Crossing the street, I pushed my bag higher up my shoulder, a cool but soft breeze brushing through my hair as I closed my eyes for a second.

Something warm vibrated under my ribs, something that seemed to stem from the city I was wandering through itself, and when I opened my eyes again, my heart rose in a vibrant flutter when I caught a glimpse at the sun sinking towards the mountains, its warm golden light submerging the buildings and gardens into an otherworldly glow.

Velaris. The City of Starlight.

The Court of Dreams.

When Rhys had first told me about it, all those years ago, I had almost not believed him. It had sounded - far too good to be true.

But now, as I made my way through the narrow streets, laughter and voices winding through the air from restaurants and bars, families passing me, I suddenly understood the light that appeared in his eyes whenever he talked about the city.

It was beautiful.

The buildings were big and winding, with towers and bay windows and balconies, the cobblestone streets between ranging from wide ones leading to big squares to narrow, connected alleys. There were wisterias winding around the houses, in full bloom just like the trees, their petals being sweeped through the streets by the soft breeze, lacing the air with a sweet scent.

A few children were chasing a whirlwind of blossoms, giggling, and I could feel something in my chest swell.

My eyes flared golden for a moment, and the petals rose in a rush, moving through the air like water flowing and sweeping around the children, their laughter growing as petals brushed over their cheeks like gentle tickles.

I smiled brightly and exhaled a soft laugh before turning back ahead, my breath hitching as I slipped out of the street and found the river in front of me. Bridges with intricate carvings arched over the water that reflected the light of the first golden lanterns and the sky, a few stars already visible, twinkling in the pale blue that spanned all the way to the surrounding mountains.

It had taken me longer than expected to fulfill my promise. After taking care of those still Under the Mountain and the faeries there, I had brought those captured home. By then, many faeries had started leaving the places they'd sought shelter at.

But the chaos that had become the courts had not spared their homes. Many of the wild woods, the meadows and riverlands had been destroyed or had withered without the fairie´s care.

And so I had spent almost two months making my way from Spring up all the way to the North, rebuilding the fairie's homes a lot easier with the assistance of my magic. It had mended something in my chest, cracks that had formed there over the past fifty years, cracks caused by the harm that had been caused to those I felt I was made to protect. And not a day had gone by where I hadn't felt the gentle rake of claws down the walls of my mind, like the male they belonged was trying to assure himself I was still there.

I knew Rhys was probably up to his ears in work, things that had piled up over the last fifty years; mending his own court back together. But still.

I knew him.

Knew how wonderfully, awfully self-sacrificing he was, and how he had the admirable and not at all healthy tendency to always put everyone else first.

The stubborn male hadn't sought me out once. And it had made something rise and ache in my chest, more with every passing week, until over the last few, I had rushed, moved as quickly as possible, barely halting to accept the faerie's words of thanks.

It felt like something pulled me north, something that became stronger the closer I got.

☆

The sun was almost touching the snow-covered mountain peaks when I finally found the adress Rhys had left me. It was located at the end of a long street, a bit off the city center, sheltered by blooming trees and hedges, just like the other properties.

Carefully opening the gate covered in sweet smelling vines, I felt my heart skip softly against my ribs.

Before me rose a big house made from sandstone, with huge windows, carved details and a domed roof, blossoming plants climbing the walls. There were bushes in bloom planted in front, and as I slowly made my way towards the steps at the side of the house, leading to big wooden doors, I caught a glimpse at the garden beyond.

My breath hitched, and I slowed until I stood still.

Flowers bloomed, wild and free, faeries whizzing through the high grass, giggling and chasing each other over a pond with floating lilies, reflecting the mountains lining the horizon and the sky above, beginning to turn pink.

Something rose in my chest, swelling and thrumming as a soft, slightly shaking laugh built in my throat, and I quickly wiped a hand over my nose.

Staring at the garden for another second, my heart fluttering wildly against my ribs, I blinked before looking up the houses façade. Then I turned, climbing the steps to the door where I hesitated for a second before I raised my hand to knock gently.

After waiting for a minute and knocking again, I felt my brows furrow, and my heart skipped softly when Rhys' voice echoed through my memories.

Don't worry. The wards will let you in any time, day or night.

I could still hear the cheeky smile in his voice, and something rose in my chest.

Raising my hand again, I paused for a moment before carefully placing it onto the wood of the door.

My heart skipped when I felt a shift under my fingers. A soft breeze brushed through my hair and brought with it the small of chilled nights and wild flowers, and my lips rose into an incredulous smile when the door opened with a creak.

Carefully stepping over the threshold, I felt something begin to flutter gently against my ribs as I slowly made my way past the staircase leading up and felt my lips part softly.

My gaze flickered over the one wide room that was the first floor, open and flooded by the golden light of the sinking sun coming from the big windows that opened like doors into the garden. There were shelves filled with books to the front, comfortable looking couches and soft carpets, and a big oak table over in the open kitchen with an array of chairs. The air smelled warm, of blooming flowers and a trace of Rhys that lingered, like he'd been here some time in the past few days.

Something rose under my ribs, quick and fluttering wildly as I carefully let my fingers graze over the back of a leather armchair, breathing in the scent of the flowers on the dining table – and then the air shifted behind me, and I quickly looked over my shoulder, my heart rising in my chest and breath stilling.

Rhys had appeared next to the stairs, looking a little out of breath, his hair windswept like he had rushed as his wide eyes flickered up the stairs.

My gaze quickly darted over him, and something tightened harshly in my chest as I practically drank him in, because Gods, I had missed him. Far more than I had realised, something that seeing him again Under the Mountain had not changed; in fact, it seemed to have made it worse, because as my gaze dragged over the familiar width of his shoulders, his inky black hair and that stupidly beautiful face, something in my chest began to ache.

Rhys' eyes darted away from the stairs as he turned quickly, and his body went completely still when his gaze found mine.

Something swelled under my ribs, rising as it pulsed warmth, and I swallowed before sending him a smile, soft and just a little cheeky. “Hello.”

Rhys stared at me like I had knocked one of the books from the shelves behind me over his head. His violet eyes were wide, his throat working as he swallowed lightly, and suddenly, the ache in my chest grew unbearable.

Dropping my bag, I darted towards him, and Rhys stepped forward, catching me as I crashed into him.

His familiar scent washed over me like a tidal wave as his arms tightened around my waist, lifting me slightly until only my toes touched the floor as he pressed me into his chest, and I dug my fingers into the back of his shoulders, my arms wound tight around his neck as I buried my face in his shirt. His scent filled my nose, the warmth of his skin causing my own to heat, and something rose under my ribs, fluttering into my throat when I could feel the light shudder going through Rhys' body.

His arms tightened around me like I wasn't already pulled flush into his body, then he dropped his head to bury his nose at my shoulder, a slightly shaking breath leaving him.

“You're here,”, he mumbled, his deep voice hoarse, and I slid my arms down from his neck to wind them tightly around his middle, curling into his chest because it felt like the only way to still get closer.

“I promised, right?”, I mumbled into his shirt, my own voice sounding a bit weak, and Rhys slid his arms up from my waist to wrap them around my shoulders, dragging me further into his body as he dropped his nose into my hair.

My heart clenched when I felt a tightness form in my chest, one that wasn't mine but belonged to the male in front of me, who felt tired, and worn, and a little heavy, but like him, and the feeling in my chest swelled.

Breathing out, I felt my shoulders sink. Winding my arms tighter around Rhys and nuzzling my face into his chest, I mumbled: “I hope not everyone can walk in here like that, because then we'd really have to talk about your security measures.”

Rhys huffed into my hair, his lips moving up against my forehead when he mumbled back: “What do you take me for, an idiot?”

I felt my own lips rise, and Rhys seemed to realise it too, because he added a grumbled: “You know what, don't answer that.”

A giggle bubbled in my throat, and I could feel Rhys' muscles shift under my hands, slowly relaxing as he wrapped me up tighter in his arms.

“You're not an idiot,”, I whispered softly, pressing my nose into his shirt, and my heart skipped when I could feel Rhys begin to smile brightly into my hair.

“I've been telling you that for more than a century, darling.”

His voice sent a soft tingle down my spine, low and rumbling warmly, and I grumbled: “I take it back.”

“Nuh-uh,”, Rhys murmured, and I could feel his smile widening.

Closing my eyes, I carefully sent a wave of warmth his way, to lessen a bit of that heaviness clinging to him, and Rhys' grip shifted as his shoulders sagged.

We would have probably kept standing there for another while, because tiredness suddenly washed over me, the exhaustion of the past two months finally catching up with me, and Rhys didn't seem like he was planning on letting go either, his grip softening as he held me, body unwavering even when I slowly let my whole weight sink against him, burying deeper into his chest.

But then something shifted at the back of my mind, soft and curious, and I hesitated before pulling back.

“Rhys?”

The male looked down at me, violet eyes tracking over my face, and I slowly slipped out of his grip a little, feeling my brows furrow gently as I stared up at him.

“Who's house is this?”

Rhys' hands on my hips flexed a little, almost like nerves as he slowly slid them off. Then he blinked and smiled, soft and lopsided and almost a little sheepish as he dipped his head to the side.

“Yours.”

I blinked. My arms slipped from his waist as I stared up at him, feeling my lips part, and suddenly, the ache in my chest was back, only it was different now, pressing onto my lungs and causing my breath to hitch.

“What?”, I whispered softly.

One corner of Rhys' lips curved, his eyes moving over my face as he shrugged lightly.

“I always hoped you'd come here one day. And I didn't want you to feel like you were just visiting.” He blinked, and it almost looked like he was hesitating for a second before he mumbled, voice hoarse: “I wanted you to have a home here.”

Staring up at him, I felt the ache rise. Looking over my shoulder, my eyes brushed over the beautiful living room, the garden visible through the big doors –

Something thrummed harshly against my ribs, and turning around, I sniffled and moved forward, slipping my arms around Rhys' neck and hugging him so forcefully, he huffed a little in surprise.

“Thank you,”, I whispered, my heart rising as my bottom lip trembled a little and a tear ran over my cheek as I quickly squeezed my eyes shut.

Rhys breathed out and wrapped his arms around me, dropping his chin onto my shoulder, and his deep voice rumbled through my body when he mumbled back, sounding a little raspy: “Purely selfish reasons.”

Giggling softly, I pressed my nose against his shoulder. Then I pulled back to stare up at him, breathing a soft, incredulous snort.

"Only you casually buy someone a house."

Rhys grinned. "Always aiming to impress." Raising his hand, he gently brushed his thumb over my cheek, wiping away a tear as he stared at me, one corner of his lips curving. Then he blinked.

“Come on.” Leaning down, he picked up my bag before straightening and sending me a slow grin that caused his cheeks to crease and my heart to do a backflip. “You're staying with me tonight.”

“And where would that be?” Feeling my lips curve, I turned around to follow Rhys towards the windows leading onto the terrace.

Rhys pushed open the doors, and something skipped lightly against my chest when he threw a look over his shoulder, his violet eyes twinkling lightly when he raised a brow.

“The House of Wind.”

The soft air brushed over my skin when I stepped onto the terrace, breathing in the scent of blooming trees as I slowly took the two steps leading down onto the grass. Then Rhys turned around, and my breath hitched when the air behind him rippled, shimmering as his wings melted out of the darkness. I had seen them before, but they still made something tumble softly in my stomach, the way they opened in a stretch, flared wide for a moment before relaxing and folding lightly against his back. Then I blinked.

“Oh, hell no.”

“No other way.” Rhys shrugged, eyes twinkling.

“I am not flying with you.” I glared at him.

“Darling, the only way to the House of Wind is by air travel.” Rhys' lips curved in amusement when he raised a brow. “So unless you've learned how to grow wings, you'll have to fly with me.”

“No.” Crossing my arms in front of my chest, I shook my head. “Won't happen.”

Rhys casually slipped his hands into his pockets, eyes bright when he tipped his head to the side.

“You know, it sounds a little like you don't trust me.“

“That's low.” I glowered at him, and Rhys breathed a chuckle, something skipping against my ribs at the way his eyes crinkled when he grinned at me.

“Just telling you what it looks like, sweetheart.”

I grumbled.

The most annoying thing was – I did trust him. And he knew it.

What he didn't know was that I had trusted him for so long, and still, it scared me just how much.

Rhys seemed to see how he cut through my resistance, because he smiled, that godsdamned beautiful smile, and raised his brows.

Glowering at him for another second, I gave up my defensive stance and huffed. “I still don't see why I can't stay down here.”

Rhys chuckled and stepped towards me, carefully slipping my bag over my head and sending me a smile as he tightened the strap across my chest until it was sitting securely on my back, his eyes twinkling like the stars.

“Because I am far too selfish to let you stay anywhere I am not.”

Something got stuck in my throat as I looked up at him, and he sent me a wink that had me pull myself out of my stupor, deadpanning at him.

Rhys laughed, and the sound sent a shiver down my spine, my body fighting to angle towards him.

“Alright, starshine.” He grinned down at me, eyes glittering with mischief. “Hop on.”

I huffed.

“Wha-“ Interrupting myself with a soft squeal, I quickly grabbed onto to Rhys when he picked me up. My legs locked around his waist like reflex, arms clinging to his shoulders, and my eyes widened a little.

“What are you –“

Rhys' laugh made his chest vibrate, his arm under my thighs hoisting me up slightly to adjust his grip, and my heart skipped so high, I knew he'd caught it when he grinned at me.

We were on eye level for once, noses almost brushing and his body impossibly close, and I had to keep myself from holding my breath.

“Really?” My voice was a little breathier than usual, but huffy, and Rhys' eyes twinkled.

“Hold tight.”

“You are enjoying this far too much.” I tried not to swallow, and Rhys' lips curved upwards as his eyes dragged over my face.

“You have no idea.”

My breath hitched when I stared at him and the spark in his eyes.

My voice sounded a little shaky but moderately threatening when I mumbled: “If you drop me –“

Rhys smiled brightly. “Don't worry, love. I rarely drop anyone.”

I flicked his ear, and the grin I got in return made my heart stagger.

Rhys chuckled and raised his brows. “I am insulted you think I wouldn't try to catch you.”

My breath hitched, my mouth opening.

“Try to catch me; you –“

Rhys' wings opened as he took a step backwards, and with one strong beat, he launched into the air, leaving my stomach and my squeal down on the ground when we shot into the sky.

Wind whipped my hair as I squeezed my eyes shut tightly on instinct. My fingers dug into Rhys' shoulders, my legs tightening around his waist and arms clinging to his neck in a way that could not have been comfortable, but he just held me steadily as his wings carried us higher and higher. I didn't dare look down, instead hastily turning my head to bury my face in the crook of his neck, and I could feel Rhys' chuckle rumble deep in his chest, the arm slipped around my waist tightening.

“You know, if you were to look down to your left right now –“

The teasing tilt of Rhys' deep voice right at my ear made me dig my nails into his shoulders, and his warm laugh caused my stomach to dip for an entirely different reason than the way he leaned to the right as he dove into an elegant curve, wings stretched wide as they took us higher and higher with powerful movements.

When, after what felt like an eternity, Rhys' feet finally touched solid ground, my muscles had cramped into place. I refused to raise my head from where my nose was pressed into Rhys' neck, keeping my eyes shut tightly. Just in case.

It most definitely did not have anything to do with the fact his scent had filled my lungs or how warm he felt. Warm and solid and safe.

Rhys chuckled lightly, his grip loosening until only his right arm was resting under my thighs, supporting my weight effortlessly, and I could feel air graze my skin as his wings disappeared into the shadows. Then his warm breath brushed over my ear, causing my heart to miss a beat when his nose gently nudged my temple.

“You can open your eyes now, starshine.”

Ignoring the teasing tilt in his voice, I furrowed my brows, eyes still squeezed shut.

“Are you sure?” My lips brushed over Rhys' neck with my sceptic grumble, and it almost felt like he shivered a little under the touch.

Rhys just huffed in amusement, and I cracked open an eye, peaking over his shoulder.

My heart stilled, and my breath hitched as my lips parted softly.

Slowly, I raised my head.

Terraces stretched away from the mountain and the façade of a palace carved out of the very stone, shimmering in the moonlight. Blooming trees and gardens flanked the stone balustrades, lanterns and fires dipping everything in a golden light.

And far, far in the vale below us, the Sidra glittered in the moonlight, and around it, Velaris stretched into the distance, a maze of cobblestone streets, blooming trees and sandstone buildings, lit in a warm golden light that reflected in the river while mountains rose in the distance, guarding the city from all around as they rose high into the night sky.

A night sky filled with more stars than I had seen in my whole life. Glittering, twinkling in dozens of galaxies stretching to the horizon, hues of lilac and pink gleaming in the pitch black darkness.

It was so beautiful, it caused my chest to ache.

I hadn't realised my throat had closed up until I swallowed harshly, something skipping violently against my ribs when I whispered: “Oh.”

Rhys shifted, and I turned my head, my heart getting stuck in my throat when I found his eyes already on my face. There was a light in them, like they were reflecting the galaxies above as they pierced into mine, one corner of his lips curved upwards just enough for a crease to appear in his cheek and my breath to falter.

Suddenly, I realised I was still clinging to him, bodies still pressed together, so close that our noses were almost touching. Yet Rhys didn't make any move to let go.

Lightly swallowing again, anything to fight the sudden urge to lean forward, I unlocked my legs from around his waist, and Rhys loosened his grip enough to carefully place me on the ground. When my feet hit the stone floor, my knees almost buckled, and Rhys caught me by the waist, his eyes dancing with amusement when he leaned down his head a little, grinning at me.

“Am I making you weak?”

I had enough sense to hit his biceps instead of just gaping at him.

Rhys chuckled and straightened.

“Come on.” His hand slipped to the small of my back, and his chest bumped into my shoulder as he began to gently push me towards a pair of big doors leading into the House of Wind. “I'll show you to your room.”

Following Rhys through the halls, I felt my heart skip lightly. It felt a little strange, like the mountain was humming softly, not quite a presence like the one of the male next to me, but still –

“You'll stay right down the hall from me.” Rhys threw me a look, his eyes twinkling. “In case you get lonely.”

I huffed, trying to ignore the strange tingle down my spine, and Rhys chuckled, creases forming in his cheeks.

“Where is everyone?” I slipped my bag onto my shoulder.

“Azriel and Cassian are staying in the city right now. You'll meet them and Mor tomorrow.”

I sent him a cheeky grin. “Still scared they're going to steal me away?”

Rhys slowed as we reached a door, and his eyes moved over my face, then he blinked, one corner of his lips rising softly. “More than ever before.”

Looking up at him, I felt my brows furrow gently, something turning a little in my chest. But then he pushed open the door, and as I stepped over the threshold, my eyes got caught on the ceiling and the star constellations depicted in golden paint on inky black, and my breath hitched.

“Oh.”

☆

I woke up from the mountain trembling.

It was far past midnight. The sky was deep black, the stars twinkling, and I had fallen asleep with a soft skip in my chest, the bed in the guest room soft like a cloud, my eyes on the constellations painted onto the ceiling. But now, my breath was heaving, a pressure on my chest that wasn't coming from me, like a weight pressing me down, and my eyes widened as horror took over me.

Rhys.

Scrambling to my feet, I almost stumbled when the tremble of the mountain stopped, the windowpanes no longer clinking. My heart skipped into my throat, and I slid over towards the door, ripping it open – and barely catching the tall figure tumbling through it.

“What –“ My eyes widened as my heart tightenend harshly, and I nearly lost my breath at the wave of emotions crashing over me as warm, sweaty skin pressed against mine. Then Rhys' soft, broken voice sounded next to my ear.

“I'm sorry.”

My throat closed, pulled tighter and tighter as I felt his fingers digging into my waist and the way his chest heaved with his shuddering breaths, and pulling back, I slipped my hands up to cup the sides of his face, staring at him and feeling something press onto my chest at the sight of dried teartracks on his cheeks and his eyes, iris blown and utterly terrified.

Trying to swallow, I whispered, my voice cracking slightly: “Come on.”

Pushing the door open with my shoulder, I slipped under his arm and wrapped my own around his waist, and something closed around my heart like an iron fist when I felt Rhys lean heavily against me, his nose brushing over my hair as I started to guide him towards the bed. He sank onto the mattress, and I slipped into between his legs, my hands carefully cupping his face as I tracked his heart rate, off and racing, felt a slight tremble run through his body. Then his hands slid around my waist and pulled me forward, and something pulsed harshly, painfully in my chest when Rhys wrapped his arms around me and buried his face in my shirt. I could feel something wet seep through the fabric and barely fought back the burn in my eyes, a heavy weight on my throat when I slid my arms over Rhys' shoulders and buried my nose in his soft hair.

Rhys held onto me until I felt his heartbeat calm a little. Then his grip around my waist tightened, and he pulled back, arms slow to slide away from me, hands coming to rest at the back of my thighs.

“I'm sorry for waking you up,”, he mumbled, and his rough voice caused something to break a little in my chest. "It's why the others are staying in the city, but - I couldn't stand the thought of you being here but not with me."

My breath hitched, heart skipping high.

Slowly sitting down on the mattress, I pulled my legs up. Something skipped harshly against my ribs as I watched Rhys, his hunched frame, so unlike him, head dropped, hair dishevelled as he ran his hands over his face.

“What happened?”, I whispered, barely audible and a little uneven.

Rhys turned his head, and something skipped hard against my ribs when his eyes found mine, pained and raw. Then he mumbled, hollow and hoarse: “She killed you.”

My heart beat once before stilling.

“I always dream about it. Her killing you.” Rhys blinked, staring into nothingness. Then he turned, slowly pulling myself up until he was sitting fully on the mattress, back against the headboard. There were dark circles under his eyes, skin sallow. I hadn't even fully realised he wasn't wearing a shirt until I saw the scar on his collarbone that I knew hadn't been there.

Before.

Rhys swallowed, staring at my knee. Then he mumbled: “Even though I'm back here, I feel like some part of me is still trapped down there.” A muscle in his jaw shifted, pain flashing through his eyes. “With her. I can still feel her, whenever I close my eyes. When I sleep, I dream about – what she did. It makes me –“

His face twisted into something that made my breath still. Then he blinked and raised his eyes, and they found mine, tired and a little broken when he mumbled: “I never wanted you to have to witness that. What she did, what she made me do – wasn't just for her pleasure.” His voice crumbled a little when he mumbled: “It was just another way of torture.”

My fingers trembled, but I kept staring at him, feeling my breath shake. My eyes were burning, and there was a pressure on my chest, a weight that made my body ache as I couldn't tear my eyes away from him, the male in front of me who had always been sure and charming and overly confident boarding on annoyingly arrogant and who now looked tired and a little empty, like something deep inside him had been shattered.

All because of her.

I didn't realise I had started to shake, my whole body so tense, my fingers dug into my knees until Rhysand´s soft, slightly cautios voice made me tear away my eyes from the scar on his collarbone.

“Starshine?”

My eyes darted up to meet his, and Rhys looked at me with his head tipped to the side.

“You're glowing.”

I blinked before hastily drawing away my eyes, swallowing against the pressure in my throat as I found a golden light pulsing around me.

Quickly, I furrowed my brows, drawing back the magic, even though it still raged soundlessly in my chest, then I raised my head again, and my heart tightened when I met Rhys' eyes that were already on my face.

Trying to fight the ache in my chest, I whispered, my voice hoarse: “I should have ripped her to shreds.”

Rhys breathed a laugh, and something tumbled in my chest at the way his eyes crinkled slightly, some of the familiar curve of his lips returning onto his face when he looked up at me. That slightly broken look was still there, and even though he was smiling softly, I could feel his pain.

Before I could stop myself, I dove forward, tackling him in a hug so forceful, it knocked the wind out of him; his arms catching me in reflex the only thing preventing me from slipping right off the other side of his lap.

I could feel Rhys freeze for nothing more than a second. Then a slow breath left him. His shoulders sagged and his arms circled around me, pulling me into his chest so tightly, I lost my breath, his grip almost squashing my ribs, and something stilled in my chest when he turned his head to bury his face in the crook of my neck.

I tried to swallow against the weight in my chest, pressing my nose against his shoulder and closing my eyes tightly.

“I wish I could take it away.” My voice was nothing more than a whisper, but I knew Rhys had heard me, because he shook his head without pulling back, his face still pressed into my neck, and something fluttered against my throat when he mumbled, voice so rough, it vibrated over my skin: “You've already done much more than I could ever give back.”

“Rhys –“

“You saved me.” Even though his deep voice was steady, it sounded raspy, and a little breathless when he added in a soft murmur: “You have been saving me since the day I met you.”

My heart did one small skip. Then it stilled.

Staring at the wall, I tried to fight the pressure in my throat as something warm rolled over my cheek, and I fisted my hands, quickly burying my nose at his shoulder and squeezing my eyes shut tightly.

There was an ache in my chest I couldn't explain.

Rhys propped his chin onto my shoulder, his hand gently running over my back, and I sniffled and huffed, my voice grumbly and a little shaky when I mumbled: “Shouldn't I be comforting you?”

Rhys breathed a chuckle, and the sound filled something in my chest I hadn´t realised had been empty.

“I think it's fine if we comfort each other.” I could hear the way his lips had curved and breathed out, threading my fingers through the hair at the back of his head as I pressed my nose against his shoulder.

A low hum left Rhys that had his chest vibrating and something jump in my stomach, and when I pulled back lightly, his eyes had closed as he leaned back into my touch. There was something so unguarded about this face, hurt and tension and restlessness still visible in the way his brows were crunched a little, but the shadows of Under the Mountain seemed to fade slowly as a light rumble built in his chest, voice rough when he mumbled: “I think I need headscratches.”

My heart skipped, and I felt my lips curve into a slow, soft but cheeky smile.

“Are my ears deceiving me or is the mighty High Lord of the Night Court actually asking me for headscratches…“

Rhys' grip around my waist tightened when he huffed and cracked open an eye, but one corner of his lips quirked when he glared at me.

“Yes, so think about your answer, because the High Lord is going to remember if you decide to deny them to him.”

I breathed a laugh, grinning widely at him.

“One, you're not my High Lord, in case you forgot about that; High Lords aren't really a thing for me, which leads me to two; are you trying to use your title on me, because you know I am not impressed by something like that –“

“Well, you could be impressed by other things -“ The rest of his words went under in a deep, soft chuckle when I lightly tugged at his hair, just enough to make a grin spread over Rhys´ face.

Feeling my heart skip, I loosened my grip, and Rhys' eyes rolled back a little when my nails raked gently over his scalp. Something twitched in my stomach at the way he groaned softly, head tipping back into my touch, the movement exposing the curve of his throat.

I swallowed softly, watching as little by little, my fingers massaged away the tension clinging to the male in front of me. His shoulders slowly slumped, hands around my waist relaxing before gently pulling me closer in what felt like subconcious, and I was suddenly glad his eyes had fluttered shut, attention clearly somewhere else, because I couldn't keep myself from holding my breath.

Stupidly pretty.

When I finally slid my fingers out of his hair, Rhys looked close to falling asleep on the spot. His eyes were drooping as he fought to open them fully, gaze seeming a little dazed as he blinked a few times, and I felt my lips curve when I gently poked my finger into his chest.

“Happy?”

Rhys' eyes found mine, and something skipped high into my throat when they pierced into mine, tired and warm and still twinkling softly. Then one corner of his lips rose a little.

“Profoundly.”

Staring at him, I felt something surge in my chest, warm and rising, and my lips curved cheekily as I raised my brows, whispering a little roughly: “Good.”

For a moment, we just stared at each other, and I knew that I should have broken eye contact, should have looked away, because the way my heart was beating against my ribs, firm and steady, was strange and scary - but I didn't.

Not when Rhys was watching me like this, tired, lips curved up far enough for his cheek to crease.

I blinked, then I tipped my head to the side a little, mumbling softly to not disturb the quiet: “Are you going to try and get some sleep?”

Rhys stared at me, something behind that tired sparkle in his eyes when he mumbled back, voice almost a little rough: “Are you going to get me back if she finds me again?”

My heart slipped into my throat, and I barely suppressed the urge to swallow, instead sending him a soft, crooked smile, mumbling quietly: “I´ll fight her over and over again if I have to.”

Rhys stared at me, and blinking, I carefully slipped off his lap, tugging up the blanket and sliding under it. Rhys followed, heavily turning onto his side, and I let my head sink into my pillow, my eyes tracking over his face. Then, before I could stop myself, I slid closer, and I almost thought I could feel Rhys' breath hitch when I wrapped my arm around his waist and buried into his chest.

“I hope for your sake that you don't snore,”, I mumbled softly into his warm skin, and something that felt a little like a shudder went through Rhys' body. Then his arms slipped around my shoulder and squeezed, pulling me into his chest until even the last bit of me was pressed into his body.

My heart got stuck in my throat when I felt him bury his nose in my hair, then Rhys mumbled, his voice almost a little hoarse: “Why? Would you kick me?”

My heart skipped gently, and I felt my lips curve into a slow, cheeky smile as I whispered back: "Don't think I'd spare you, High Lord."

I could feel Rhys' lips rise, then he breathed out softly, and slowly, very slowly, his heartbeat calmed, only occasionally hitching gently. Exhaling lightly, I closed my eyes and felt something pulse gently in my chest.

"Night,", I mumbled softly, and Rhys' hand slipped up, fingers tangling into my hair, his thumb gently brushing over the back of my neck and causing a tingle to run over my skin when he mumbled back: "Good Night, starshine."

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @stayinglow-exploringworlds @tcris2020 @lizziesfirstwife @brandywineeeee @t0uch-starved-h0e @sharknutz @valencia-rou @twsssmlmaa

[reinekes-fox]

Interactive WIPs w Demo

FAQ

Grey Swan I - Birds of a Rose

The Divine Flock. Some call them crazy, some even dangerous. Some even say the cult is hiding dark secrets. But, in all your life you have yet to find one. After all you should know should there be any dark secrets: you are a member after all! A member, not only of the Divine Flock, but also of the Avis Academy, the best school the cult has. Your life is quiet and follows a strict routine, at least until two Strays from the outside, the normal, world are allowed in the normally so closed off grounds and as a newly appointed Wing it is your job to keep an eye on one of them. With their arrival some of those dark secrets may finally come to light…

You ARE not playing as a BIRD!!!

New demo https://dashingdon.com/play/wolv/grey-swan---birds-of-a-rose/mygame/

Old demo https://dashingdon.com/go/13119

Genre: Urban Fantasy, Dark Academia.

Moniker for MC: Wing MC.

Genderselectable MC: cis male or female, trans male or female. However due to growing up in a cult, MC wont know that trans is a thing/what it means, this is something MC can learn about. The same goes for sexual orientation: play as gay, bi, straight, aroace or ace, but be prepared for consequences.

Pick your level of devotion: be a devout follower of the teachings of the Divine Flock, reject it partly or wholly, or simply not care. All of it will have consequences.

Choose one of various school clubs, your volery, and get an unique storyline. Ranging from dance to school security, to managing your social media page.

Important people: Your flock, a group of younger pupils you were responsible for before the Strays arrived. You may not be their Wing on paper anymore, but you still hold a special place in their heart! They do miss you and are looking forward giving you a present on your birthday!

Your volery: whichever volery you joined, you are going to met pupils that are just as enthusiastic about your chosen interest as you are! Some more than others.

Your parents. It’s another question if the relationship between you is good, but important it surely is!

ROs: Fuchsia King

Chase Watson

Wing Droznik Juschka

Astor Rapace

-only for Owls: Wing Astoria Rapace

-only for Peacocks: Marter

-only for Swans: Elrond/Estelle Falkenflug

-Vampire route: Sebastian Voss

-AMAB Raven RO: Marcel Rabenschlag

-Heron RO: Amelia Fern

Grey Swan II - Hawks and Doves

Unless otherwise stated you are playing as a normal human! Two legs, two arms, internal organs, hopefully a brain too. We will see how much of this organ stays intact after state propaganda, will we?

Someone once said that you were the most happiest youth in the world after the Great Heartbeat, that had shattered the old world. Earlier you would have agreed in a heartbeat, wearing the light green uniform of your state youth organisation. But now? When war has come to Avistrions shores and news reels show only destruction ?

Choose your gender, way of thinking and stance while growing up in a religious dictatorship on the giant island Avistrion. Be a devout follower of the Divine Flock, the only thing that survived the earthquake that devastated the earth. Or be the Vulture, trying to rip it to shreds, while wearing the badge of youth leadership… where will you be when war strikes your so closed off country? Which side will you be on when it ends? Will you even survive long enough to see the outcome?

Moniker for MC: Fugol MC.

ROs

Agon Falkenflug Adler/Weihe Habichtklau

Johanna/Nikola Arra

Grey Swan III - Wisteria Birds

Wisteria Birds (fantasy, drama, angst)! Currently on pause.

You are beautiful, trained in art and music. You are deadly, trained in the unique weapons that no one except you can use. You are dying. Kept alive by the very same thing that keeps you save from others abusing their power over you… You have no rights. But you can do whatever you want, even kill, without having to fear any consequences. You are the most pleasant death that anyone can wish for. You are an artwork. And all you are supposed to be is look pretty, show of your owners wealth. But oh, you could become so much more…

You play as a highly specialised trained entertainer… an Artwork, expensive companion to the rich and noble ones in Aklant, a country with rigid rules and unspoken laws, strict class divide and obsessed with anything that shows how rich they are… or at least let them appear rich. Artworks themselves are outside of this all, freed from all those social chains, but not seen as human… maybe its time to change that? Or leave the status quo as it is, up to you!

Moniker for MC: Artwork MC.

ROs:

Fauconniers, your potential buyers:

Chevalier Armand Sanson Alexandre Desrosier Others, you may work together with one or more of them? “Mouette” Sanglant du Verdier

You have been a Hound, the human companion of a vampire, for years.

Until you find yourself among the undead and masterless after a night where everything went wrong… leaving you with no other choice but to move back in with your parents.

ROs (will expand)

Theo Grimm

Agent Rosa Caleb

Marian Viorel

Citadel of dancing birds

Ghibli inspired! Mainly Howls moving castle.

You play someone from our world who ends up in another world! Since this is an aspect I greatly enjoyed in the book and was really sad they didnt include in the movie, there will be chances of jumping between the worlds (and of course becoming a magician too!).

ROs, some are locked into specific magic combinations:

Opera Job and changing into Animals: Santu Cajarin

Changing into Animals: Rosalind Eagledancer

In planning:

-Grey Swan VI - Fallen Dove

-Grey Swan - Birds of a broken mirror

Sth with magicians

Pet projects:

-Unwind Dystology IF

-sth inspired by my fav dojinshi series from like a decade ago

-sth inspired by stranger things and stephen king