#still not sure what’s blooming on that one bush so stay tuned

[foxsoulcourt]

flora (+ 1 hummingbird) from me to you for Valentine’s Day

#spring is full of buds + berries + hints of what's to come #from last sunday’s afternoon walk #still not sure what’s blooming on that one bush so stay tuned #flowering cherry #snowbells #which made me think of toby + his grandpa in for real 😭💜 #this sweet humingbird was CHATTERING away until i stopped to video it + then it got very quiet #nature’s healing balm #urban nature #photography #foxy takes pics #personal #ty bishy for educating me! #edgeworthia chrysthana

[btsqualityy]

Magnolias in Springtime

Namjoon x Reader

Genre: Arranged marriage!AU, ABO (Alpha/Beta/Omega) dynamics, fluff, smut, and just a smidge of angst 

Warnings: Talks of arranged marriages, brief mention of polygamy (nothing comes of it, promise lol), oral sex, fingering, unprotected sex, knotting 

Author’s Note: This fic is based on a prompt from the Spring Fest “Spring Will Come Again” hosted by @bangtanarmynet​! I really hope you guys enjoy it! P.S: There will also be a part two to this fic so stayed tuned for that!

Prompt: While their parents discuss behind closed doors the terms of their arranged marriage to each other, they meet in the blooming garden to go over their own conditions.

Your pack was your entire life.

Growing up as what some of the elders in your pack referred to as the spoiled only child of the Pack Alpha and the Pack Omega, you were doted on by everyone. As a child, you marveled at the Alphas when they brought back the animals that they had haunted for the pack’s dinner and now as an adult, you were having Alphas dedicate those kills to you as a sign of intention to marriage. 

As a child, you tried to take notes on how the Betas seemed to be able to de-escalate any and all types of conflict, always seeming to have a solution that would placate everyone. Now that you were an adult, you found yourself going to those same Betas whenever you had conflicts with your parents or your best friends, because you knew that they would understand you. 

As a child, you thought that it was the coolest thing when you watched the Omegas essentially hold the pack together. They were the ones who gave birth, they were the ones who mostly took on child rearing and cooking (even though the Alphas and Betas in your pack always helped out as well), and they were always there when you happened to skin your knee as a child or just needed comfort. Once you became an adult and presented, you found yourself gravitating more towards the Omegas as you were also one now, and they took you under their wings as you learned just what it really meant to be an Omega. 

So in short, you loved your pack and you were extremely grateful for everything that they had taught you. Oddly enough, that gratefulness is exactly how you ended up in this situation. 

“We really appreciate the fact that you’re doing this for us Y/N,” your Alpha father, Byung-hoon told you as he, you, and your mother Deiji waited on the edge of the Kim Pack’s territory. 

“I told you that it’s fine Daddy,” you muttered, bouncing yourself up and down on the tips of your toes.

“Taking on this huge responsibility for our pack isn’t fine, but we’re grateful that you’re willing to do it,” Deiji said. Instead of answering her though, you decided to change the subject.

“Their territory really is beautiful,” you pointed out as you looked around, seeing multiple bushes of plum blossoms and azaleas. “At least I’ll have something pretty to look forward to once I move here.”

“That you will,” a deep voice added and when you turned around, you saw a large, muscular man walking towards you and following behind him was an almost equally tall woman who was easily one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen in your life. 

“Ah, hello Pack Alpha Ho-jin,” your father bowed and you and your mother followed his lead, holding the bow for a few seconds before straightening up again. 

“Hello Pack Alpha Byung-hoon,” Ho-jin replied as he and the woman bowed as well. “This is my wife, Pack Omega Eun Kyung.”

“Nice to meet you all,” Eun Kyung smiled. 

“This is my wife, Pack Omega Deiji and this is our daughter, Y/N,” Byung-hoon introduced.

“Hello,” Deiji smiled.

“Hello,” you echoed, even though your smile was a bit more forced than your mother’s.

“Oh, you are absolutely gorgeous,” Eun Kyung gushed as she stepped forward, reaching out and grabbing your hands. “Our son is a lucky man.”

“I’m sure that I am lucky as well, Pack Omega,” you replied.

“Please, call me Eun Kyung,” she corrected you. “I am going to be your mother-in-law soon.”

“Speaking of, where is Namjoon?” Your father wondered.

“He went off hunting with some of the other Alphas and Betas in our pack,” Ho-jin explained. “We plan on having a very big feast in order to celebrate their impending nuptials and he decided to go and try to find some extra meat.”

“Yeah, or to avoid meeting the wife that he doesn’t want,” you thought to yourself.

“He sounds like he’ll be an amazing provider and Alpha,” your mother smiled.

“Well, why don’t we all go into my office so that we can go over the terms and conditions of their marriage?” Ho-jin suggested before turning to look at you. “Y/N-ah, feel free to look around our territory and get a feel of the place. This will be your home soon, after all.”

“Of course,” you nodded. “Thank you.” After receiving a kiss on your head from your father and a pat on the hand from your mother, you watched silently as the four of them walk away together. As soon as they were out of sight, you let out a large rush of breath that you didn’t even realize you were holding. Even though you weren’t completely excited about this arrangement, your inner Omega wanted the parents of your future husband to like you and after meeting them, you were happy that you could seemingly not have that to worry about. 

Deciding to take your future father-in-law’s advice, you walked away from the front of their territory and ventured around. You were amazed at how vast their territory seemed to be in comparison to your pack’s, large buildings and houses searching as far as your eyes could see. As you walked, you took notice of what seemed to be a schoolhouse, a building that seemed to be a sort of meeting hall, and even a building that looked like a store front with mannequins in the window.

The thing that caught your attention though, was a large archway that was covered in gorgeous magnolia flowers. When you stepped over to it, you gasped at what laid behind it: A large wall full of nothing but magnolias stood a few feet beyond the arch, a small bench placed in front of it. 

“Gorgeous,” you whispered in awe as you stepped over to the wall, reaching out and gently touching the flowers. 

“Who are you?” A deep voice called out and you jumped up a little, your heart almost beating out of your chest as you turned around to find the source of the voice. Standing right underneath the archway, was a tall, tan skinned man whose presence seemed to command attention. 

“I-I’m Y/N L/N,” you replied, still feeling a little hesitant and the man’s eyes widened. 

“You’re Y/N?” He wondered and you nodded your head. “Well, you’re a lot prettier than I thought you’d be.”

“I’m sorry, who are you?” You questioned. 

“I’m Kim Namjoon,” he said, smiling at the soft gasp that escaped you. “Your future husband.”

“Oh,” was all you could utter in response because holy shit, your future husband was hot.

“Where are your parents?” Namjoon asked as he stepped closer to you. “I assume that you didn’t come here alone.”

“Um, they’re talking to your parents about the ‘terms and conditions’ of our marriage,” you told him and he scoffed out a laugh.

“Of course they are,” he chuckled as he took a seat on the small bench. “Well, I think that while they’re doing that, you and I should probably go over our own terms and conditions.”

“Our own?” You echoed as you sat down on the bench as well.

“Seeing as though we’re both fundamentally being forced into this, I figure that there’s things that you don’t want and that you do want,” he said. 

“That’s..true, I guess,” you nodded. “You go first.”

“Well, seeing as though you weren’t raised in this pack, I’d like for you to learn the ways of the pack and just be a proper wife,” he began.

“I’ve been learning about your pack since the discussions of a possible arrangement started,” you told him. “I have to wonder though, what exactly is your definition of a ‘proper’ wife.”

“Basically, just keeping house, cooking and cleaning,” he elaborated. “As my father plans to step down once we’re married, I’ll be too busy running the pack.”

“Well, sorry to burst your bubble but I wasn’t raised to be a docile Omega and I don’t plan on becoming one once we’re married,” you huffed.

“Why not? I mean, surely you don’t expect to run the pack with me?” He laughed.

“Actually, that’s exactly what I expect,” you smiled. 

“How can you expect to lead this pack when they don’t know you?” He asked.

“Since I’m going to be here for the rest of my life, then they’ll have every opportunity to get to know me,” you shrugged. 

“We’ll talk more about that one later,” Namjoon sighed. “Anything that you wanted specifically?”

“I know that your pack is going to be providing aid to mines once we’re married and as much as I plan on being involved in this pack, I also hope that you don't expect me to never see my pack again,” you said. 

“That’s the custom when you marry into another pack though,” Namjoon pointed out. “Plus, no offense or anything, but your pack is broke in terms of both money and resources and I don’t imagine there to be much to even go back to.”

“I am my parent’s only child and my pack is very close knit so I’d love to still be able to see them and for them to come see me,” you continued. “At least three or four times a year.”

“Alright, I guess that’s reasonable,” he relented. “Especially under these circumstances.”

“Thank you,” you smiled. 

“Oh, another thing,” he said suddenly. “I know that this marriage isn’t exactly something that either of us want but you cannot have any...uh, lovers on the side.”

“I’d never do something like that,” you frowned. “But I hope you know that the same goes for you.”

“That’s fine,” Namjoon nodded. “It’s not my style anyways.”

“In addition to that, I read your pack’s history and the whole taking more than one Omega as a wife thing isn’t going to fly with me,” you stated firmly.

“It’s tradition though,” he shot back. “Every leader of this pack throughout its’ history has had more than one spouse.”

“Your father doesn’t,” you pointed out. 

“Because he didn’t want one.”

“And you do?” You demanded to know and Namjoon just chuckled.

“You really meant that whole not a docile Omega thing, huh?” He wondered and you nodded while smirking. 

“You’re going to be Pack Alpha,” you said. “You have the authority to change tradition.”

“Fine, no additional Omegas,” he agreed. “I hope that means you’re going to be willing to have lots of pups then, since that’s what the whole multiple Omegas rule was for.”

“How many?” 

“At least 5,” he replied and you just laughed.

“5 is a pretty big number coming from a man who’s not going to be pushing them out,” you giggled. “Two, at most.”

“Three?” Namjoon bargained and after thinking for a few seconds, you nodded your head. 

“Deal,” you answered. “Anything else?”

“Just one more,” he added. “No roses at our wedding.”

“What? Why?”

“They’re overrated and cliché,” he shrugged. 

“What about magnolias?” You asked. “Those are my favorites.”

“I like those,” he smiled.

“Well, it’s settled then,” you announced. “No roses.”

“You know, this marriage thing is easier than I thought,” Namjoon said thoughtfully, making you giggle at him. “Do you have anything else you wanted to bring up?”

“Nope,” you shook your head. “I’m good.”

“Shake on it?” He extended his hand out to you and you let him grab onto yours, shaking each other’s hands. 

“Namjoon?” A deep voice called out and Namjoon sighed heavily. 

“That’s my dad,” Namjoon told you. “Should we head out there?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, standing up and waiting for Namjoon to do the same before the two of you walked back towards the front of their territory. As you did so, you couldn’t help but to Namjoon hadn’t let go of your hand the entire time.

“Ah, I see that the two of you met and are getting along!” Ho-jin announced happily.

“I’d say that we are,” Namjoon nodded as he looked down at you, and you nodded as well. 

“Well, why don’t we all move into our house?” Eun Kyung suggested. “We can have dinner and get to each other more.” After receiving nods all around, the group of you began to move towards the large cluster of houses that were a few yards away from where you were currently standing. As you let Namjoon lead you, you thought that maybe all of this actually wouldn’t be so bad. 

..........................................

A few days later, your time visiting Namjoon’s pack was winding down. After the first day, your father had happily told you that the negotiations between him and Namjoon’s father went off without a hitch and that the wedding could move forward immediately so the last few days of your visit had been spent planning your wedding.

“So maybe you and Namjoon can have your ceremony closer to the evening?” Eun Kyung suggested. “So that way we can move right into the reception afterwards.” You, her and your mom were currently in the dining room of Ho-jin and Eun Kyung’s house, going over some wedding details.

“That’s a good idea,” Deiji concurred. 

“Yeah,” you agreed. “Having the ceremony around 5pm sounds good.”

“Great,” Eun Kyung smiled as she wrote some things down onto the notepad that was on the table in front of her. “A later ceremony will hopefully ease some of the anxiety you’ll have that day.”

“Anxiety?” You asked.

“About your wedding night,” Eun Kyung clarified and your eyes widened. “When Ho-jin and I got married, we had our ceremony in the early afternoon and I was so nervous waiting for the reception to come because I knew what was going to happen afterwards and I had never been to bed with anyone before.”

“Oh,” you murmured. Of course, you knew that it was expected that you’d have sex with Namjoon on your wedding night and if it were up to your parents and Namjoon’s parents, get pregnant immediately but you had done your best not to actually think about it.

“Anyways, I think maybe roses for the flowers,” Deiji changed the subject and you gave her a small smile in thanks. 

“Oh, that would be gorgeous,” Eun Kyung gasped. “Namjoon’s grandmother actually has a garden full of red roses and I’m sure that she won’t mind us using some.”

“Actually, no roses,” you spoke up and both older women looked at you.

“I thought you liked roses, Y/N-ah,” Deiji said.

“I do, but Namjoon doesn’t,” you explained. “We agreed on magnolias instead.”

“You both agreed?” Deiji repeated and you nodded your head, making her smile. “That’s great.”

“You know, it’s so nice to see you actually trying to make the best of this whole thing Y/N,” Eun Kyung said. “I know it’s not ideal and you could be fighting this tooth and nail but the fact that you’re not says a lot about your character.”

“Thank you,” you smiled lightly. 

“Alright, magnolias it is,” Eun Kyung muttered as she wrote that down onto her notepad as well. Before the conversation could continue any further though, there was a sudden knock and when you looked up, you saw Namjoon standing in the door way to the dining room. 

“Hey, you all back from hunting so soon?” Eun Kyung wondered, referring to how Ho-jin, Namjoon, and Byung-hoon had decided to go off and hunt right after lunch. 

“Animals weren’t really out,” Namjoon shrugged. “Dad wanted to show Pack Alpha Byung-hoon our warehouse and I decided to come back here to spend time with Y/N.”

“With me?” You echoed in awe and Namjoon nodded.

“I wanted to show you around a little more, if you’re willing,” he offered. Before answering, you looked over at your mother who immediately waved her hands at you.

“Go, go,” she encouraged you. “We’re here for another two days so we can pick this up again later. Right, Eun Kyung?”

“Absolutely,” she agreed, turning to look at Namjoon after. “Show her the river.”

“I got it Mom,” Namjoon chuckled. “Y/N?”

“Sure,” you replied before standing up, walking over to Namjoon and grabbing his outstretched hand. 

“We’ll be back by dinner,” he called out to your mothers before turning around and leading you through the living room and out of the house. 

“Thanks for getting me out of there,” you said as the two of you walked down the front steps and began to walk away from the cluster of houses. “All that wedding planning was starting to get to my head.”

“I figured, which is why I got out of there right after lunch,” Namjoon laughed. “But I also genuinely wanted to spend some time with you too. It feels like I haven’t had a moment alone with you since the first day you got here.”

“I think our families are making sure of that,” you pointed out. “I think they’re afraid that we may realize that we hate each other if they leave us alone together for too long.”

“I think that’s actually a great assumption,” he chuckled. “They don’t have to worry about that though, at least not on my end.”

“Mines either,” you murmured shyly. “So, where are you taking me?”

“Well, even though my mom suggested that I take you to the river, I think that there’ll be plenty of time for you to see that later,” he told you. “I actually want to show you something that I’ve been working on.”

“Cool,” you nodded as the two of you continued to walk and you noticed that he was still holding onto your hand. On their territory, there were a few different clusters of houses and Namjoon was leading you over to a different one, stopping in front of what seemed to be the largest house. 

“What do you think?” Namjoon asked and you took a second to look over the outside, liking how it was painted a light brown color, had a large porch that already had a swing attached to the ceiling of it, and a large set of stairs. 

“I think it’s beautiful,” you smiled. “You built this?”

“Yeah, for us,” he revealed and you looked over at him in shock. “What? I hope you didn’t think we’d be living with my parents once the wedding is over.”

“Namjoon, I don’t even know what to say,” you murmured in awe.

“Want to take a look inside?” Namjoon wondered, reaching down and pulling a set of keys out of his pocket. You nodded your head rapidly and he chuckled before leading you up the stairs and unlocking the front door. Walking inside, you let out another soft gasp as you looked around. 

As soon as you walked into the front door, there was a little open space which could be used to place your shoes and jackets and then a staircase that led upstairs to the second level of the house. On your left hand side, there was an archway that lead into the dining room and kitchen and then on your right hand side, there was another archway that lead into the living room and another room that Namjoon said he planned on converting into a study. Once you went upstairs, you saw that there were a total of five bedrooms and the master bedroom was the largest and complete with an en suite as well. 

“I love it,” you gushed as you turned to look at Namjoon, who was leaning up against one of the walls in what would soon be your shared bedroom. 

“I thought I’d leave the decorating up to you,” he said. “That way you’ll have control over something here.”

“Good, because I already have ideas,” you grinned, deciding to throw caution to the wind and walking over to him, not waiting for him to ask what you were doing before throwing your arms around him. He hesitated for a second before hugging you back as well, and the two of you stood there for a few seconds with your arms around each other. 

“I’m happy that you like it,” he whispered and you craned your neck in order to look up at him. 

“I really appreciate it,” you told him.

“Anything for my future wife,” he smiled and it was when he said that that you realized how close the two of you still were. You dropped your arms from around him and stepped back, forcing him to let go of you as well. Feeling your cheeks warm up from embarrassment, you turned your back towards him and walked over towards the window to look outside.

“You know Y/N, I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Namjoon began. “Why did you agree to all of this?”

“What, marrying you?” You asked for clarification and Namjoon nodded.

“I mean, I know the basic reason why but I feel like there’s more to it than that,” he said. “A lot of packs run out of money and resources at some point but their leaders usually figure something out instead of marrying off their children in return for more resources.”

“True,” you sighed before turning to look at him over your shoulder. “Long story short, I don’t want my pack to die out just because of my father’s mismanagement. I love every member of my pack and they have all been so vital to how I grew up and how I’ve become the person that I am. If me marrying into another pack will guarantee that those people can continue to live comfortably, then I’ll do it.”

“That’s incredibly selfless,” Namjoon replied as he walked over to stand next to you. 

“I guess so,” you shrugged. “But to me, I’m just repaying the people who gave me so much.”

“That’s amazing Y/N,” he muttered. 

“What about you?” You reversed the question. “Why did you agree to this?”

“Well, my reasoning was a lot more selfish than yours,” he chuckled. “It’s always been my dream to lead the pack and when my father came to me a few months ago saying that he was getting ready to want to step down, I was super excited. However, it concerned him that I’m 26 and not mated to anyone yet so he made it a stipulation that I meet someone and get mated before he allows me to take over for him. Since I planned on getting married at some point in my life, that stipulation really didn’t matter to me so I agreed.”

“Ah, I guess that explains why you weren’t too keen on me wanting to run the pack with you,” you said.

“Kind of,” he shrugged. “Although, after hearing why you agreed to all of this, I have to admit that I’m reconsidering that.”

“Really?” You smiled hopefully. 

“Of course, you’ll still have to get to know the pack and our ways,” he pointed out. “But I don’t think it would be the worst thing to have you by my side.”

“Great!” You exclaimed happily and Namjoon couldn’t help but to laugh from how excited you clearly were. 

“Do you want to go look in the other bedrooms?” He suggested. “Maybe see what you might want to do with them?” 

“Mm, we don’t have to. I don’t want to overwhelm myself,” you giggled. “Why did you make so many bedrooms anyways?”

“Well, for our future children,” he confessed and you felt your cheeks immediately become hotter. 

“Oh,” you whispered. 

“Is that ok?” Namjoon wondered. “I know it might’ve been a little presumptuous of me, especially since I did it before we had our conversation about what we both wanted the other day.”

“No, no, no, it’s....it’s fine,” you shrugged. 

“Oh, I get it,” he smirked. “You haven’t been with anyone, have you?”

“Namjoon!” You shouted in surprise.

“You’re nervous,” he surmised. 

“Can you blame me?” You scoffed. “I mean, it’s already embarrassing to have basically everyone know that I’m a virgin but knowing what’s expected of us on our wedding night....it’s nerve wrecking.”

“It’s not that big of a deal Y/N,” he shrugged. 

“Aren’t you nervous?” You asked him, only to see him shake his head. “Why not?”

“Because I’ve thought about filling you with my knot since the first day that I saw you,” Namjoon confessed. “So if you let me have sex with you on our wedding night, I’d consider myself to be a very lucky man.”

“Really?” You whispered.

“Of course, but I’m not going to push you,” he told you. “If you deicide that you don’t want to, then that’s completely fine. If you do though, just know that I’ll be more willing.”

“Good to know, I guess,” you muttered, more so to yourself but Namjoon still laughed at you. 

“Cute,” he smiled widely as he reached down and grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers with his.

..........................................

A month later, your wedding day had finally come. After spending a week in Namjoon’s territory, you and your parents had traveled back to your pack’s territory where you prepared for the wedding alone. The only other time that you were able to see Namjoon had been when he and his parents decided to visit your territory in order to sign the treaty that would make the connection between your two packs official. 

Fast forward to now, you were standing in the guest bedroom of Namjoon’s parents’ house, getting ready with your mom and your two best friends. 

“I really wish you would’ve let me make you a more form fitting dress Y/N-ah,” Taehyung sighed as he pullzed up the zipper on the back of your dress. Your dress was pure white, with long billowing sleeves, a scooped neckline, and a loose, long skirt with a small train. 

“You know that I hate tight clothing,” you pointed out. “This feels more like me.”

“And you look beautiful,” Jimin spoke up, taking a second to stick his tongue out at Taehyung.

“That you do,” Deiji grinned widely as she placed a crown of magnolias on top of your head. “You look like a dream.”

“Thanks Mommy,” you giggled. Just then, there was a sudden knock on the door. 

“Everyone decent in there?” Your father called out and Jimin walked over to the door and opened it up, making your father gasp when he saw you. 

“Oh Y/N-ah,” he murmured as he paced over to you, setting his hands on your cheeks. “My baby girl.”

“What do you think?” You asked him. 

“I think that Namjoon is a very lucky man to be marrying such a gorgeous woman,” Byung hoon replied, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “You ready? There’s still time to back out and we can always figure something else out.”

“I’m not gonna do that Daddy,” you huffed with a smile, reaching out and taking the bouquet of magnolias that Taehyung was handing to you. “I’m gonna do this.”

“We can’t thank you enough,” your father murmured and you just leaned forward, giving him a kiss on the cheek as well. 

“What’s done is done,” you said. “So don’t stress about it.”

“Well, let’s go get you married,” Taehyung smiled as he reached up and pulled your veil down over your face.

“Let’s,” you whispered as you wrapped your hand around your father’s arm and let him lead you out of the bedroom. 

The ceremony was an unrushed affair once you met Namjoon underneath the little archway that had been placed near the large wall of magnolias where the two of you had first met. You found yourself not even paying much attention to what was happening during the ceremony and before you knew it, you were facing Namjoon as the preacher pronounced you man and wife.

It wasn’t the first time that you’d ever been kissed, but it still felt different all the same. Namjoon was so gentle as he reached out and grabbed the hem of your veil, lifting it up and over your head to reveal your face. He then placed his hands on your cheeks, cradling them as he leaned forward and kissed you softly. You found yourself kissing back on instinct, your hands reaching out and grabbing onto his suit jacket. 

The reception was definitely more fun than you imagined it to be. The food was amazing and so was the music, and you couldn’t help but to smile at how everyone in your new pack danced around happily as they celebrated your marriage. You found yourself having fun as well as you allowed Eun Kyung and Ho-jin to lead you around, introducing you to some members of the pack as well as spending time with your own family and friends as well.

Now that the night was over though, you were quietly walking back to your new house with Namjoon, which had been decorated to your liking. 

“Did you have fun?” Namjoon asked and you looked over at him, nodding your head.

“I did,” you smiled. “Your pack sure knows how to throw a party.”

“It’s your pack now too,” he pointed out and you hummed in reply. Once your new house came into view, Namjoon helped you walk up the front steps before pulling out his keys and unlocking the front door. 

“Wait,” he said when you moved to step into the house and before you could ask what he was doing, he leant down and picked you up bridal style.

“Namjoon!” You shrieked as he carried you into the house and you reached out to shut the front door for him. He then carried you up the stairs and into your bedroom before setting you down on the ground.

“What was that?” You giggled as you looked up at him.

“Well, I couldn’t let you be deprived of a prime wedding experience,” he shrugged, making you smile. A somewhat awkward silence then settled over the two of you then and it wasn’t until then that you felt your nerves kick in. You had been successful in not thinking much about your wedding night for the past few weeks but now that the two of you were alone, it was all that you could think about. 

“You know,” Namjoon spoke up suddenly. “We don’t have to do anything tonight.”

“Namjoon, we talked about this,” you replied.

“We did and I meant what I said then,” he said. “We don’t have to do anything just because people might expect us to.”

“Really?”

“Really. Plus, it’s kind of insulting if you only have sex with me because you’re expected to,” he joked, making you giggle.

“You have a point,” you smiled. “What if I said that I wanted to though, because I want to?”

“Do you remember what else I said to you when we had that conversation?” He wondered and you felt your cheeks warm up immensely as you recalled his words. 

“Yes.”

“What did I say baby?” 

“You said that you, uh, wanted to....uh,” you stammered and Namjoon smiled, deciding to take pity on you.

“I said that I wanted to fill you with my knot,” he finished for you. “And I still mean that.”

“You’ll be gentle?” You checked.

“Absolutely,” he stated firmly. “And I’ll go as slow as you need me to.” You knew that this was a big step, losing your virginity. However, something about Namjoon made you feel so at ease and besides, he was your husband now.

“I want to,” you announced, causing him to grin widely.

“Can I kiss you?” He requested and you nodded your head. He reached up and placed his hands on your cheeks before leaning down and pressing his lips against yours. You immediately moved closer to him, placing your hands near his waist. He then took one of his hands off of your cheek and before you could ask what he was doing, he reached up and took the crown of magnolias off your head before throwing it over his shoulder.

“Someone seems eager,” you teased.

“You have no idea,” Namjoon chuckled deeply. He kissed you again, this time much deeper as he walked you backwards towards the bed. Once you felt the edge of the bed hit the back of your knees, you pulled away from his lips and looked up at him. 

“Help me take this off?” You whispered, taking a second to turn around so that your back was facing him. Without any hesitation, he reached out and pulled down the zipper on the back of your dress. The feeling of his fingertips against your skin made you shiver and when your dress dropped down to the floor in a pool around your feet, the feeling of his eyes on you made you get chills. 

“Did you wear this for me?” Namjoon asked before leaning forward and pressing kisses along the curve of your shoulder, referring to the white, lace bra and panty set that you had been wearing underneath your dress. 

“Maybe,” you breathed out, his lips on your skin making it hard for you to focus. 

“Gorgeous. Lay down for me?” He said and you nodded before bending down and crawling onto the bed. When you flipped over to lie on your back, Namjoon was working on taking off his suit jacket and unbuttoning the white dress shirt that he had underneath.

“You still ok?” He checked in as he climbed onto the bed as well and you smiled as you reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck. 

“I’m ok,” you confirmed, leaning up and kissing him again. The kiss quickly became heated, your mouth falling open as Namjoon slipped his tongue inside. He then pulled away from your mouth, moving down to press kisses to your jaw before moving down to your neck. 

“Been thinking about this, about you,” he whispered against your skin and you just blushed as you looked up at the ceiling.

“About me?” 

“Mmhmm,” he hummed. “Been thinking about your scent too.”

“What do I smell like to you?” You wondered, doing your best to keep your eyes trained on the ceiling as you felt him start to move down again. 

“Like...pineapples and bananas,” he murmured as he grabbed the cups of your bra, pulling them down so that they sat right underneath your breasts. He then leaned down and sucked your right nipple into his mouth, making you arch your back up from the bed.

“Holy, huh,” you moaned and Namjoon chuckled at you, which automatically made you pout. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized after popping your nipple out of his mouth. “You’re just so cute.” You couldn’t find the words to say anything else because Namjoon reached underneath you and you lifted your back up so that he could take your bra off completely, and he didn’t waste any time before taking your left nipple into his mouth. 

Once both of your nipples had stiffened to a peak, he moved downwards again, trailing his lips across your skin until he made it down to the line of your panties. 

“Lift up for me?” Namjoon asked and slowly, you lifted your hips and waited until he had grabbed the waistband of your panties and pulled them down before lowering your body back onto the bed. Once he pulled them off of your legs and threw them off the bed, you watched as he sat his hands on your knees and looked down at you. 

“Still good?” He wondered.

“Seriously, stop asking,” you giggled. “I’m nervous as hell but I want to do this so I’m good.”

“I just, you know you can tell me to stop at anytime and I will, right?” 

“I know, and that’s why I want this,” you smiled. “Want you to give me a bite.”

“Fuck, ok,” he exhaled harshly. “I want to eat you out first though.”

“Ok,” you nodded and you allowed him to push your knees apart, exposing your folds to him. He laid down on the bed so that he was right in between your legs, and you let out a loud gasp when you felt his tongue make contact with your clit. He used the tip of his tongue to make slow circles around your clit and even though he wasn’t placing a lot of pressure behind it, you felt like you were going to lose your mind.

“Holy shit, that feels...good,” you huffed and you felt Namjoon hum against you as he closed his entire mouth around your clit. The feeling was almost euphoric, and you couldn’t believe that you had been missing out on this for the last few years since you presented as an Omega.

“I’m gonna give you a finger ok?” Namjoon spoke up after taking his mouth off of you and you nodded, wincing lightly when he began to push his pointer finger inside of you. He then began to slowly pump the digit in and out of you, which made you moan lightly. 

“Feels good?” He asked. 

“Yeah. Weird but good,” you told him. 

“Good,” he smirked. “You’re getting wet.”

“Don’t say that,” you groaned. 

“Why not? It’s a good thing,” he shrugged. “It’ll make it easier for you to take my knot.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“Good thing you’re stuck with me,” he smiled before leaning down and taking your clit back into his mouth. As he fingered and licked you simultaneously, you found it a little harder to breathe because of the pleasure that was building in the pit of your stomach. 

“Wait, wait, wait, wait,” you hissed when he tried to ease his middle finger inside of you. 

“It’s ok baby, we just gotta get you stretched out a little bit,” he whispered and you just decided to be quiet and let him do it. Admittedly, you admired how much time he was taking making sure that you were properly ready and it made your heart soften because you had never had a man (other than your father) be so gentle with you. 

“Namjoon, I-I think I’m going to come,” you whimpered and Namjoon took his mouth off of your clit for a few seconds. 

“Go ahead baby,” he encouraged you before placing his mouth back on you. Sure enough, it didn’t take much longer before your body seized up, your orgasm washing over you. Namjoon continued to stroke you through it and by the time that it passed, you were reaching down and pushing him away from you. 

“Holy shit, that felt good,” you giggled, making Namjoon laugh as well. 

“That’s good,” He replied as he sat up onto his knees. When your eyes trailed downwards, they widened a little at the sight of the bulge in his pants.

“Should I, um,” you stammered as you motioned towards his pants and he looked down, chuckling before looking back up at you. 

“You don’t have to and besides, seeing you come turned me on and I doubt I’d last,” he admitted.

“Oh, ok,” you smiled shyly. He then pulled off the dress shirt that he had on, letting it fall onto the floor before moving onto his slacks, unbuttoning and unzipping them before pulling them down. He pushed them, along with his underwear, down his legs and your jaw dropped a little from the sight of his cock.

You didn’t know what you expected, but you definitely didn’t expect his cock to be so thick and long. You had to admit, actually seeing it made you even more nervous.

“Hey,” Namjoon called out and you looked up at him. “It’ll be ok. I’m still going to go slow.”

“O-Ok,” you whispered as he climbed between your legs. He reached out with two fingers and gathered some of your slickness from your orgasm before using it to lubricate his cock. 

“Ready?” He questioned as he positioned his cock right in front of your entrance and once you nodded, he slowly began to push into you. The stinging pain hit you immediately and you yelped out loud, reaching up and clutching onto Namjoon’s forearms. “Y/N?”

“Hurts,” you muttered through grit teeth.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, bending down and pressing a kiss to your forehead. He didn’t try to push any further, he waited until you gave him a small nod before pressing his hips forward again. You were almost ready to tell him to forget the entire thing as the stinging pain seemed to become worse the more he pushed into you. Before you knew it though, he had bottomed out and was looking down at you intensely.

“What?” You asked him.

“You just, you look so beautiful,” he complimented you.

“Are you just saying that because you’re inside of me right now?” You joked.

“I mean it,” he laughed. 

“Well, thank you,” you responded and he leaned down to kiss you again. He then slowly pulled his hips back before pushing back in, which caused you to let out a stuttered moan into his mouth. The pain was still thee but as he began to fuck you, it slowly went away and was replaced by what was probably the greatest pleasure that you had ever felt in your life up to that point. 

“So tight baby,” Namjoon grunted after he pulled away from the kiss. 

“F-feels so full,” you whimpered. 

“Good. I’m gonna fill you even more with my knot,” he said gruffly as he looked down at you. “You want that?”

“Yes.”

“Say it,” he instructed you.

“I-I want your.....k-knot,” you stuttered and he literally groaned at your words. He began to fuck you a little faster, making you grip onto him and wrap your legs around his waist.

“Been thinking about this,” he moaned. “Been thinking about how good you would feel wrapped around my cock.”

“Me t-too,” you confessed. 

“Fuck, you’ve been thinking about me baby?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Since you told me that you wanted to...fill me with your, uh, knot. Thought about you calling me baby too.”

“You like it?” He smiled.

“Love it.”

“Then I’ll call you that as often as I can,” he promised. He continued to fuck you, and you realized that you were feeling the same buildup of pressure that you did when he was fingering you. 

“I-I’m gonna come Namjoon,” you announced breathily and he sighed.

“Thank god,” he huffed as he began to thrust into you both faster and harder, and your grip on him became so tight that you were sure you’d leave marks on his skin. “I wanna knot you so fucking bad.”

“Do it,” you encouraged him. “Want you to bite me too.”

“Come first,” he shot back as he focused all of his energy into making sure that you did so. After a few more thrusts, you were coming right onto his cock, your essence covering more of his cock every time that he pulled it out and then pushed it right back in. 

“Ready for a bite?” He asked and you nodded your head numbly. Leaning down, he stuck his face in your neck and began to suck on the skin there. As soon as you released a moan at the feeling, you felt his teeth sink in. 

You had heard a lot about mating bites and how it would feel when you finally received one, but you could truthfully say that the feeling was indescribable. You truly felt like you were now connected to Namjoon in a way that you had never been connected with any one before and the feeling was almost so overwhelming that you almost didn’t recognize that Namjoon’s knot was pushing its’ way inside of you.

“God damn,” Namjoon groaned deeply as his knot fully popped into you, and you gasped when you felt his cum pouring into you right after. You leaned up and after finding the perfect spot, you sunk your teeth into his neck as well, giving him a mating bite too. 

Namjoon collapsed on top of you and the two of you stayed like that for a while, at least 15 minutes, basking in the after glow of your new matching mating bites. 

“No offense or anything,” you spoke up. “But you’re heavy and it’s hot in here.”

“Some offense taken,” he laughed as he lifted himself off of you. “My knot has gone down but it’s gonna hurt when I pull out.”

“Go slow, ok?” You requested and he nodded, looking down in between your legs and slowly pulling out of you. It did hurt a little and you even winced a little bit, but it wasn’t that bad all in all. 

“Y/N-ah?” He called as he laid down next to you and you gently turned over onto your side to face him.

“What happened to baby?” You simpered with a teasing smile, making him chuckle. 

“I’m still gonna call you that,” he assured you. “But I wanted to talk to you seriously.”

“Ok, shoot,” you shrugged. 

“I know that you didn’t necessarily choose all of this and neither did I, but I don’t want you to worry,” he began. “I take this marriage and this relationship just as seriously as if we met in the conventional sense and I really mean it when I say that I can see myself falling in love with you.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he smiled. “Even though we haven’t known each other long, I can already tell that you’re kind, selfless, loving, and the most gorgeous woman that I’ve ever met in my life. I’d only be so lucky if you fell in love with me.”

“Well, I think that I can fall in love with you too,” you confessed, making him grin widely. “And I hope that I do.”

#BAspringwillcome #bangtanarmynet #bts #bts namjoon #bts rm #abo bts #namjoon x reader #rm x reader #namjoon smut #namjoon fluff #namjoon angst #rm smut #rm angst #rm fluff #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst

[chipper-smol]

Pale Jester Chain

Prompt: PJ descends into Hallownest to find the mysterious pull of his king soul charm

Ya’ll can finally stop asking me about what WL and PJ think of each other

this one hurts

( @meatbunattack​ https://archiveofourown.org/works/27917989 )

Pale Jester’s descent They had been called to this old, forgotten kingdom when a flame was lit. The troupe had yet to meet their summoner but they would arrive in due time, they could feel how the summoner scurried down below among the caverns. Until then, the troupe would remain at the surface and provide entertainment for those who wished to visit the troupe during their performance nights.

Pale Jester, one who created the props for the show, stood in his workshop that had been provided by him by Master Grimm. Very generous of the Master to entrust the Jester with his own space.

This place, this kingdom of Hallownest. It made something uneasy stir in the Wyrm’s chest.

As he tried to focus on his work, he continued to get fleeting images on what he imagined the kingdom below to be like. It was in ruins, of course since they were called, but he could imagine buildings that reached far up into the sky, roads that stretched far and wide, a network of tunnels. 

Whenever he thought of the name of the kingdom, another vivid imagery entered his mind. It was like the name of the kingdom brought out a sense of adventure that he never believed he would’ve been capable of. He wanted to see what was down below, how glorious of a kingdom it could’ve been in its prime.

It felt like he had heard of the name, and that must surely mean that it was once a great enough kingdom for the name to spread far and wide! 

Despite his curiosity there was still something in him that made him stay in his workshop for the day.

At least, most of the day. For when he noticed how many deadly contraptions he had created rather than the simple set he had hoped to create, he knew that his mind had been taken by the prospect of exploring this kingdom. These were too dangerous to use in a proper performance, unless the person who performed had experienced the Jester’s ire enough to experience such. He would need to dismantle them later.

For now, he grabbed his coat that hung on the wall and put it over his shoulder as he walked out. If this Hallownest kingdom were to occupy his mind enough to distract him from his work, then he would need to take a small peak at the kingdom. Enough to satisfy his curiosity!

His gut twisted uneasily as he walked towards the exit.

He stopped briefly as he passed Brumm, who was ever so faithfully playing his accordion to fill the air with music, and gave him a cheerful wave.

“I will be out on a walk, it won’t take too long I’m sure.”

Brumm stared at Jester while he continued to play his instrument. He was about to say something, but before the quiet man could do so, Jester had already walked past him towards the exit of their tent.

The white charm in his pocket pulsed briefly.

Jester Walked confidently through the town of Dirtmouth towards the well that would lead into the large kingdom down below. Of course, he could take the stagways that had opened but he would rather walk on foot. He gave an extravagant bow towards Elder bug as he passed, simply to be polite of course. He knew other bugs found the Grimm troupe unnerving so Jester wished to display they weren’t as bad as they might believe.

A polite gesture could go a long way, and it was his job to bring people towards their troupe for performance nights. Perhaps Elder bug would decide to join in seeing their performance from such a simple gesture! If that was possible then he would, of course, bow to anyone he came across.

The caverns below were… different than what he expected. He expected to see rows of cultivation or houses, signs of life at least. But this, this was a desolate road. A road that stretched as far as he could see in the darkness below to both the left and right.

Perhaps the road would lead to something more extravagant. So he turned left and hummed softly as he walked along the path. If he had brought his trusty spire with him perhaps he could’ve practiced his performance as he walked. Alas, he forgot to bring it in his haste to venture down. 

But no matter, he could still amuse himself by watching his surroundings with one pair of his arms clasped behind his back while the other pair was used to closer examine the few curiosities he came across. At least within that area. It all became a lot more interesting when he ended up by a shaft with platforms that were held aloft by metal wires. 

He easily conjured a small red dagger to pierce the small bug that wished to attack him. A vengefly he believed it was called. Details didn’t matter for there was a certain doorway that peaked his interest in this shaft. An opening that had vines growing out from its entrance.

The charm in his pocket pulsed once more.

Seeing the green foliage as he entered this new air brought him a sense of nostalgia. What for? Well he certainly had no clue! But it was enjoyable nonetheless to walk through this green landscape with no destination in mind. Simply letting his feet take him wherever they wanted to go. 

He traversed downward through the green landscape and came upon strange moss creatures. All of them plagued by this orange disease his Master Grimm had told them all of. It was an easy task for Jester to dispose of them if they came in his way, they were all just small fry and he wished to enjoy his walk. This is so far the most interesting area he had come upon so far and he was eager to see what else there was.

Blooming flowers, thorns, bushes, no matter the greenery Jester immensely enjoyed walking amongst them as he hummed a happy tune to himself. It all felt really calming, he had never been around nature before. At least as far as he could remember. Which truthfully wasn’t much! But that hardly matters, what does matter is how much he was enjoying his walk. Yes, he certainly was.

The charm visibly glows in his pocket.

No no not now.

Jester let out a soft laugh as he rode on the mindless spiked bugs that traversed back and forth across the sea of acid. It was very handy to have such bugs who just went back and forth back and forth! With no other goal in life than to travel back and forth. It was easy to shift around the spikes on their backs and traverse from bug to bug to get across. He even struck a pose! These creatures might be useful for their performances, yes, certainly. Perhaps he should tell Master Grimm about them once he returns.

Despite being mindless, Jester still gave the bugs a bow of thanks for bringing him across and he continued on his way with a wide smile.

Too wide. Too wide. Calm down calm down calm down.

His surroundings had now changed. There were more solid structures than there were greenery and soil alone. A nice change of pace, why he was getting tired of the uneven paths! Even though the metal platforms fell under his weight he was quick enough on his feet to jump onto the next one. The bugs in his path were just as weak as the other ones from prior, one knife and they fell from the sky. 

It was laughable how weak they were! Laughable! Why did the Troupe Master even warn him from traversing down here? They were all feeble and weak, nothing he wouldn’t be able to handle on his own. Why, he was doing perfectly fine! It was a simple, comfortable walk for him, really. 

When did he start running? Why was he running?

Where is he running to?

Then came a difficult predicament. A barricade stood in his path that he hadn’t seen before, a wall of pure black energy. After observing the contraption for a while-

His hands were shaking. Where was he going?

Before he found a hidden switch and quickly pressed it to turn off the wall of void that stood in his way. He stood up and stepped through, no he wasn’t rushing, why would he do such? No, this was simply because he was excited to see whatever could lie before him. Surely.

Surely that was it.

He jumped from platform to platform and climbed up down up past thorns- 

They caught on his cloak and made rips in his clothing a few times. He needed to get there he needed to get there.

and gracefully landed at the very top of this thorn maze with a pose befitting one of the troupe. That was when he allowed himself a brief pause, chest heaving-

Why was he breathing so hard, he didn’t run that fast did he?

from excitement as he looked at the room he now stood in. Glass lined all walls and it allowed the beautiful greenery to be seen from inside this building. It was a beautiful sight, truly. Truly! 

But he couldn't stay and admire it forever, no, he had places to be! New sights to see. A whole kingdom to explore and this was only his first location!

…

He slowly took out the charm that had been glowing in his pocket for a long while. His hands were trembling as he stared at it, he felt a sharp pain in his chest but he couldn’t understand why.

He clutched it tightly in his hand and walked forward, down the hall with his back straight and faced forward. He could not shame the troupe by looking like a grub scrambling in panic. No! For he was the Pale Jester, whatever laid before him, wherever he wished to go, he would not make himself seem as if he was desperate to see it. That would be more like Divine! Not Jester, surely.

He stopped briefly as he saw a large circular structure. Almost like an egg with beautiful roots that sprouted out from it.

Roots. Roots. My. My… My…

Before he could properly prepare himself he had already entered the hole that led deeper into the egg. Surely it was out of excitement, yes. Surely. He wasn’t eager to see whatever it was. No, why would he be eager to see something he didn’t know what it was or why he was even there or what he had come running to see.

But no. 

His chest hurt as if his whole being had shattered once he laid eyes on the being before him. His body ached and his limbs trembled.

This being, this-... Her roots spread out into the roof above her and into the ground below. Her body had cloth around her, cloth that Jester could immediately tell was a seal. 

And it. Hurt.

Like any time he hurt for no reason, Jester started to chuckle softly, which brought the woman’s eyes towards him. They were a deep blue, the most beautiful blue he had ever seen. Now that he was noticed, he stepped further into the room with that glowing charm still clutched in his claw. Still letting out a sound similar to a giggle, he bowed low towards her with two of his arms spread out behind him while the other two rested on his chest. 

He was shaking. He was shaking so badly the clacks of his shell echoed throughout the room. And his voice had a similar wavering to it as he spoke to the being before him. The woman before him. The most beautiful and wonderful and generous and loving and-

“Greetings! Terribly sorry to disturb you. haha. It seems I have completely forgotten the reason I even came here. May I know your name, my lady? It would be an honour to know the name o-of someone who holds such beauty.”

The woman kept quiet for a few brief seconds. And when she spoke, something broke inside of him. Her voice was soft, like the smoothest of silk. Her tone was soothing like the feeling of a warm flame during a chilling night. Her eyes, even if they were clouded, shone with such kindness and- and-

And sadness.

“Wyrm…?”

The white charm piece in his hand pulsed once more.

( @lidijadraws​) 

( @payasita​ )

The path was all uninhibited vegetation and gnarling, thorny overgrowth, twisting in its conquest of all the still-shiny metal and delicate machinery below. Nature had long since won its battle with what was built by mortal hands, and rendered the walkways here mossy-soft. Foliage grew unchecked over yet more, ever creeping, clutching whatever was in the way in roots and brambles while plants outpaced other plants in their bid for space. The former garden now only had itself to be at war with, near silent in its ongoing, wild expansion.

But there was something more here, hidden away in its depths. He could feel it.

Something that shone bright enough to cut through the comforting haze of percussive red that filled his dreams and pacified his thoughts. Something that pulled at him from deep deep down, like it too had taken root and clutched him tight enough that the stem could pull him about like a leash. Like a weed, invasive, choked around one of the many, funny little pieces of him loosely strung together. 

A piece that the Heart would not take from him, no matter how he asked. Perhaps severing those tiny roots would simply cause what was inside to crumble, like old, packed soil. Thoroughly reclaimed by nature. 

How lovely, how lovely, the way these plants might burn. There was so much green here, and so many thick tangles of bark and dry nettle that would make perfect kindling. The Master and his kin could play to the crackling tempo of it, could dance and laugh and sing along to the ecstatic roar of that cleansing inferno until there was nothing left but ash; until the land was left warm and desolate and sated.

The thought made him want to vomit. It made him want to tear his eyes out, pry his scales, to reach a claw down his throat and yank, spill his own heart, burn that instead, how could he do that, how could he hurt her?

Her?

...Who?

Already the thought slipped away like fine sand. Already it dissolved just out of reach when he tried to chase it. He did not try very hard. It was easier, so easy, to let it recede from his mind. To listen to the throb of the Heart so much louder in his skull, comforting like a lullaby. He listened, felt it under his shell, until the pain ebbed. 

And when the pain ebbed, he could not particularly remember what in the world had caused it. He thought, maybe, he'd been thinking of someone. He supposed it didn't matter. But whatever it was, it had certainly made the pretty red haze so very bright in his mind. 

The Jester stood with an airy giggle-- When had he fallen to his knees?-- and advanced. Past the nettles, past the remnants of glass and machinery, and past the feeble critters that hopped and flitted about unsteadily. Many were still clumsy for their rocky recoveries from that peculiarly angry disease that had all but ruled this land a short time ago, if they were lucky enough to survive it at all. He passed the old, brittle husks of those who hadn't, and of other long-fallen, one of which gave and cracked easily under his feet and nearly tripped him. 

Bother. He often envied things that could fly, whose wings were not just costume. Certainly they could get around much more easily. And wings themselves were so pretty on a bug, so enviable on their own. Had he been lucky enough to have any of his own, he would have liked them to shine, he thinks.

He was snapped from his daydreaming at the sight of a roughly globose structure, and at the huge, snaking branches that burst forth from it, all dug into the surrounding rock and soil. Not branches, then. Roots. 

So very many corpses lay scattered about in front. Something awful must have happened here. It was a shame he hadn't brought his lantern, and so could not collect the nightmares that must linger from the strife. Nothing wrong with a bit of errand-running while he was away from home, after all. But strangely, the thought of doing so, here, had felt… wrong. And so, on a whim, he'd left it.

He spared a jolly salute to the white warrior's corpse guarding the structure's entryway, and went inside. 

Down he went, into the dark. The fool on the card, finally falling off the cliffside, trusting that he won't be impaled by something in the drop. But the Pale Jester fancied himself a rather more professional fool, and so knew very well the proper time and place for a prat fall. When it would be funny, first of all. And secondly, one should at the very least have an idea of where they'll land before they attempt one. And as the Jester did not know where he might land, or if he'd do so with safety, he elected to venture carefully. 

Very carefully. The pulse racing under his shell, now, was only his own. And it just about sent his blood scrabbling to his extremities, his movements growing frenetic. He felt half mad. Desperate. 

Why? Calm down, breathe. Whatever was at the end of this nerve-wracking knotted knoll, it would never be more important than the burning embrace of what he served. Even if he was a fractured thing, even if he was in pieces, the shards of him ultimately still belonged to the Heart. To the Nightmare King. He belonged to the Master.

And then he saw light. White, cold, gentle light. It squeezed him inside, not unpleasant, and slowly he entered the chamber that housed its source.

And there she was. 

Bathed in the enchanting light of her own soul, bound in wrappings of cloth, and further imprisoned by a crushingly powerful magic seal all around her body. Eyes closed, silent and serene. For whose protection was his sleeping beauty sealed away? 

Oh, no, not his. Her magic pulled strong, but he'd never even met her before. How horribly rude.

But by the Heart, she was beautiful. Unbelievably so. A being like her couldn't be of this world, was clearly something so much more. A being like her could easily be someone's entire world. He stepped forward, and as she opened her eyes, he had that same thought again, nearly breathless.

"One approaches," came her voice, like a knell. He shuddered. The sound set him alight.

"One is approached," he took the opportunity.

She did not say anything else, for a few seconds. Only stared down. From the tracking of her eyes, and the foggy blue he saw there, he guessed she was at least mostly blind, and perhaps hadn't always been. He spoke again, if only for an outlet for the near manic energy roiling in him from shoulders to tail. 

"Do pardon the intrusion, madam. But I believe I was searching for something. I pray you take no offense."

"... No," she began, slowly. "For I know your kind, and the paltry morbidity of their goals. Your clan and kin exclusively go where they are unwanted, and do not heed the bids of any local sovereign nor law."

The Jester's head tilted, just so, as he considered her, feeling safely anonymous behind the mask while he mused.

"... Sovereigns and laws. Had this weeping land either of those before, it certainly does not, now."

"... It does not," she assented, equally unreadable.

He had the sense that this creature must have once been someone very important. It was the least he could do to respect that, even for how fate had clearly laid her low. The Master found most observances of status unnecessary, and even sometimes enjoyed poking fun at him for being prim. But the Jester found propriety comfortable, and so swept back into a scraping bow, demure and proper, and she watched him.

"May I know your name, my lady?"

Another pause. 

"... There is nothing left to know. Once, I had those who would fear me, and they called me as a Pale Being. Once I had devoted, and they called me as the White Lady. Once I had a husband, and he called me his Root." 

He listened, not noticing how his arm listed down from where it was extended to her. 

"But in this place, there is little use in a title, and none in a name."

"It is a pleasure, my lady, either way," he implored.

"One defiled has already completed its business with me. Would that the second might now make his known."

Another "one defiled"? A previous visit from another troupe member, perhaps? Though, that didn't make much sense. Either way, how quick to dismiss him. He supposed he did have very little to offer, and she must have known that in an instant. A fool before a goddess, before a lady, before a prisoner. 

"...As I said, I believe I had been searching, perhaps," he hummed, "though I could not say for what with any certainty. I would say for answers, my lady, but that would require questions, on my end, would it not?" 

The Jester's fingers tapped together to a familiar beat, restless, while he blathered on.

"And I even had little in the way of those, my lady, before I found you. A few come to mind now, though. If you would be so kind as to forgive a poor fool his curiosity, my lady."

So few things outside of the circus ever felt right to him. But calling her "my lady" did, and so he would continue to indulge. It sounded so suitably silly in a place like this, anyhow. 

She said nothing, only waited. Even if he preferred hearing her voice, at least he hadn't been told to just bugger off. 

Maybe she found him entertaining. He hoped she found him entertaining.

"What has made you a prisoner here? The old laws of the land? Perhaps a great beast to be slain, for the fair maiden's freedom?" He spread two arms, with the others' hands clasped under his chin in mock-thoughtfulness. 

"By my hand alone, I have ordained my own sealing," she tolled. His arms fell.

"... For what do you wish to atone?"

She took another moment to think, or maybe to word it right. Or maybe however many years of silence and introspection she'd been here had simply slowed her reactions to outside requisitions for her attention.

"... No atonement shall be found, for my part in facilitating the ancient sins of this kingdom. Nor do I seek it. My fate is penitence and precaution, only."

"But what was your crime?" It was barely above a whisper.

"The scope of some actions can be vast enough to transcend laws, wretched one. Ruin such as this goes beyond crime. I am no convict, for the word would be too trivial. There is no name for what we wrought, though the closest I can offer you in definition would be 'sacrilege'." 

She spoke so softly, almost kindly. But too far away for that. Too lonely.

And she'd said 'we.'

"...You had a husband, you said," he realized. "What of him?"

"... He was to be locked away in a similar fashion, though less permanently." She shifted a little under her bindings, a faint rustling of bark, and spoke slowly.

"Though a recent transaction has led me to understand that my beloved ultimately chose escape from the regrets that plagued him. Opposite me, he chose to ensure that he no longer had to suffer his own mind."

Oh, dear. How unfortunate. What nightmares that couple might have offered. 

And what a stupid, selfish creature the other half of it must have been, to abandon his wife to now bear them all alone. And to force her to suffer even more by choosing to die at his own hand. That was not the sort of nightmare that ever truly left a person. And to inflict it upon a goddess, who even diminished felt like home and hearth and sweetest sanctuary?

Good riddance, then, the Jester privately thought. Callous thoughts spared for some callous corpse. 

"... I am sorry for your loss, my lady," he offered out loud.

"Your offer of pity is an unwelcome one," she intoned. Her voice was gentle, quiet, and cold like fine jewelry. "And I bid you cease pretending your propriety. I am no one's lady, now."

The Jester brightened.

"How very fortunate, then. For I happen to be just that: a no-one!" He waved his arms out in a flourish, fabric wings bouncing with the motion. "A jester is meant to be a mirror to reality, you see-- a funhouse reflection of polite society, and all the frightfully frivolous foolishness found therein." 

He held up a finger, triumphant, and took a step forward. 

"Ergo, I believe I definitively possess little enough identity of my own, that by your own words, I can call you 'my lady'."

Her silence was a bit different this time around. It wasn't contemplative, nor dismissive, nor even angry.

Only sad. 

Silence and sadness. He stood watching it on her for only a second, and was struck by the urge to scream. He didn't. But how long must she have been living in only silence and sadness? It oughtn't matter to him, but she had such a lovely voice, and he bet her smile might be a thing that could light up the whole damned kingdom, should it ever grace the world again.

He couldn't imagine her laugh. Seeing her now, bound and bemoaned and bereaved, it was difficult to imagine that she even could. 

But the Jester looked at her, and he bet it was a sound like bubbles and bells. He bet it was like coming home, like coming warm together under the covers and healing. He bet it could doom any poor fool hopelessly into her possession, heart and soul, with no effort on her part. 

He needed to hear it. He needed to make her laugh. He was a clown, that's what he's for. He needed to hear her laugh.

"I've a riddle for you, my lady," he blurted, all in one breath. "Forgive the banality, my lady, but I promise I am rather good at those. I can sometimes be something of a riddle myself, you see."

He placed a hand over his heart. The Master would chide him for improvising like this-- the Jester was, admittedly, not terribly good at it. But practice makes perfect, does it not? 

And either way, the Jester found his mouth was running just a bit faster than his brain, at the moment. Nothing for it but to go along for the ride, then.

"How many pieces does it take to put together a fool?" He peered up, trying to glean anything from her face. She seemed vaguely surprised that he'd spoken up so abruptly, at least. He held out a finger.

"Here are your hints. A big piece of him belongs to what he serves, and remains safely tucked away in its possession. One is held by a grave-eyed, broken toy soldier, who comes 'round to see him sometimes. One was taken by a quiet little shadow, who won it with force. One is found near the nimble warrior in rose-red garb, who eyes it rather rudely with distaste. And one is held by the land's fairest mourning damsel, who pulled him to her, by it, on strings of plant fiber."

The Jester had long since learned that he had a mysterious talent for oration, and it always served him well. No one would guess from his declarative diction that he'd no idea where he was going with this. And yet on he spoke.

"Those are not all of them, my lady, he's quite sure there is more to him than just those few shards. But perhaps, my lady, the answer to their number can be found in why those pieces in particular seem so very important. 

Why is it, my lady, that the toy soldier fusses with him so? Why, my lady, did what the little shadow took hurt so horribly to give away, even if the trinket had always pained him to look at? Why does the rose-red warrior avoid him, my lady, and why should that disquiet him? Why, my lady, does the Master seem to have so much trouble deciding whether to laugh at the fool, or comfort him as if he were grieving?"

His hand trembled where he held it aloft, and the one at his heart now clutched the ruff of his costume like a lifeline, tight enough to poke holes. The other two, at some point, had wrapped around each other in a bruising grip. And the Jester smiled through it all, delivering his terrible joke of a riddle with a taut, warbling brightness in his voice.

"Why is it, my lady, that I know for a fact-- my lady-- that you, my lady, are the most beautiful creature that I will ever lay eyes on, even if I were to live for a hundred thousand years more? Why, my lady, why do I want--"

His voice finally broke on the last word. He hiccuped, and wrapped all his arms tight around himself in earnest, now, holding himself together. He bowed his head, not seeing how or if she had any reaction to him. 

He took a few sharp breaths, until his words could again come out beyond a choke. The result was little more than a slow, pathetic rasp.

"...I can almost feel it. I do not know … I do not know it, but... I can…" a shuddering sigh, while his tongue searched for something just out of reach. 

"You… My… my rhh… my..."

"I have given you the word. You do know it. Or else the chains around your mind are so strong that you will remain shielded from any core memories, no matter the reminders."

The Jester slowly looked up, and found that he still couldn't see her expression. He tried to blink away the tears to see a bit better, but made little progress beyond just making his eyes sting.

"... You said it…?"

"I did."

"... Tell me again. Please."

"... I do not know that it would be of any help, my Wyrm. You have accepted the Nightmare's call so thoroughly into yourself. You have given it your soul. What once beat for your people, your own dreams, and for me, cannot be heard under the beating of its loathsome Heart."

"Please," he repeated. He wanted to beg for so much more, but he had no idea what any of it was.

"... I was your Root, when you were my Wyrm. But the being I sense before me now, I do not know. I do not recognize any of the familiar light that once shone so beautifully within you."

"My Root," he breathed, mind buzzing, shoulders aching. "My Root. My… my Root. My… rh... my…" 

"One defiled, who are you now?"

"...My... My what…? My…? What was I…?"

"...So indeed, then, he did take his own life."

"I… I had it, did I not…? I had… something... Hadn't I…? What was… My…?"

"Servant of the Nightmare. Tell me your name, that I may preserve it as the site of his grave."

Confused, dazed in scarlet fog, and barely processing anything beyond the thundering heartbeat beneath his mask, he had to think very very hard in order to obey her.

"...My kin call me as the Pale Jester. I… I serve for the Heart... And I play for the Master," he mumbled out, at length, feeling just a bit of strength returning.

"... Then go. Return to your play, and to what calls you to its domain. There is no sense in allowing yet another sacrifice to go in vain."

Slowly, legs numb, he stood up from where he'd again collapsed to his knees, and cradling his head. The haze beckoned him out, beckoned him home. 

A voice that was like stained silk sheets, that was like a warm body pressed to his on a freezing night, that was like a lingering hand on his cheek, followed him in a vague echo.

"... My current state bars me from visiting any tomb of my own volition. So I thank you, wretched one, for allowing me this final opportunity to say goodbye to him. It is more than I ever would have hoped to have."

The Pale Jester shuffled out, lured by the gentle thrum underscoring the crooning of an accordion, that together scrubbed his mind mercifully blank for a time.

The first sober thought he had was about halfway to the surface. He remembered meeting someone unbelievably beautiful, and he remembered bits and pieces of their talk. 

And he remembered trying to make her laugh, but instead, having made her cry. That pretty voice, and how it went thin and quavered, as she tried to keep it level. Low and all alone, with no comfort ever again to be offered. Lost to him.

His own heart shattered into a thousand pieces.

The one he served gentled it back together, threaded it with its own patchwork arteries and cauterizing flame, now finally taking care of it where he no longer could.

And the Jester felt fantastic.

( @cataegus-draws​ @cataegus​ )

( @a-mild-case-of-eccentricity​ )

Darkness.

Then… a light. A… white light?

The jester opens his eyes, suddenly wide awake. That’s… odd. The last thing he remembers was turning in for the night after a rather grueling performance. His tail was nearly sheared on one of his new buzzsaws. Perhaps a few adjustments are in order, he thinks idly. 

But for now… where is he?

He looks around cautiously; a forest, it seems. Ancient, looming trees stretch above him for what feels like miles, casting dappled patterns of sunlight against the lush foliage below. They join together high above, creating a sort of sheltered dome. Flowers of every size and shade carpet the forest floor, swaying in a gentle breeze. This place radiates life, he can feel the strength of it thrumming in his core. In the quiet, he swears he can feel the space breathe. 

The jester suddenly feels very, very small, but somehow in the best of ways. Like being held in the embrace of a loved one. It feels… familiar.

Surveying the rest of the room, he finally lays eyes on her. He doesn’t know how he missed her; she’s seated in the center of the garden, bound by vines but oozing elegance nonetheless. She is pristine, ethereal, and positively radiant, both literally and figuratively. She is the source of the soft white glow illuminating her hideaway. The jester is starstruck, speechless with the beauty of the being before him. He steps closer.

The woman raises her great head with her crown of branches, sitting upon her head like a halo. She had started at the sound of foliage rustling beneath the jester’s footsteps; she hadn’t heard such a sound for some time now.

“Hello? Who is there?”

Gracious, that voice, those eyes. Her shimmering blue eyes sparkle in the sunlight, but the jester feels his heart ache upon seeing how fogged over they appear, and how she struggles to stand with her restraints. Something deep within him whispers.

This is wrong. It’s not supposed to be this way.

“Hello?” She calls out again, louder this time. Her sights narrow onto his blurred form. “Ah, there you are. My apologies, my eyes are not what they used to be. Who are you, little one? How did you come by this place?”

He draws in a sharp, shaking breath. Touching his face beneath his mask, he’s startled to find his hand stained with black tears. The sight is beyond unsettling; the growing pit in his stomach becomes a void, threatening to engulf him completely. He raises his head, forcing a smile behind his painted visage.

“I am a jester with the Grimm Troupe, and I am afraid I do not know how I stumbled upon this oasis.” He spreads his arms with a painful laugh, more tears beginning to stream down his face, dripping past his mask. “What an odd situation we’re in, my Lady!–”

He freezes, jolting as if someone impaled a lance through his thorax.

M-my… my Lady? No, my... Rr… M-my R-Root… My Root…

The pain that shoots through his head is excruciating. He cries out as his upper set of limbs grip the edges of his mask; his weeping only serves to stain his hands further, irreparably. The lower set squeezes his middle, desperate for something solid to cling to. He can barely make out the frantic calls of the woman as she cries out for her “Wyrm” and strains against her bindings. Her cries drive the lance deeper into his heart, and he swears he feels his mask crack.

It’s that deafening crack that finally rouses him from his slumber; he bolts up in his cot with a scream. His face is damp with tears that only grow as the pain from his dream settles into reality. Grimm is bursting through his tent curtains before he can blink, rushing to his side as the smaller bug hunches over and cradles his head, struggling to subdue his pained gasps.

“Jester,” Grimm starts calmly, the barest hint of urgency in his tone betraying his worry. “You must calm down, I promise you’re alright. It was only a nightmare; it wasn’t real…”

“I-I…” the jester barely chokes out. “I f-felt her… M-my… I-I don’t understand, master… I-I don’t understand…”

The troupe master gazes at his jester with a gentle, pained look. Grimm knows. Of course he knows. But he cannot say, for the king’s sake.

He resigns himself to stroking the back of the jester’s skull, murmuring little nothings to try and calm him. When the smaller presses closer, Grimm allows him to crawl into his lap. He wraps him in his cloak, settling the jester against his warm chest.

–––

After many moments of soft words and gentle touches, Grimm finally manages to lull his jester back into a fitful sleep. He shifts in the other’s meager cot, settling onto his back; he might as well stay, he thinks. He’ll do his damndest to dissuade any further nightmares from his jester’s subconscious, even if it means losing sleep himself. He nuzzles the edge of the smaller’s mask. After all, Grimm reasons as he closes his eyes, no one likes a sad clown, now do they?

( @sweetdreams-hollowknight​ )

( @monomon-s​ )

The Pale Jester might not know much about the troupe, but he did know this: they traveled. Traveled far, and often, too. Grimm always told them it was places that ‘needed the Troupe’, though that was vague if you asked PJ. He knew he’d be there to entertain, of course, and help with the flame, as he had to. Part of being in the Troupe, essentially, was helping with the flame. 

PJ also knew this: compared to other troupe members, he had not traveled many places. Maybe in comparison to the bugs that he saw in dying places, he could say that he’s been everywhere, but that would be a lie. 

So, whenever the troupe traveled, he felt that odd ache of familiarity that he didn’t particularly enjoy. How could some foreign place be familiar, when he had so much yet to see of it?

And that familiar feeling didn’t ever go away.

When he was tasked with capturing flame from the kingdom below— how novel, a kingdom below ground— that ache, and feeling like he’d seen this all before did not leave, no matter how he tried to distract himself, and, when he reached where the flame was supposed to be, that tug on his mind only grew stronger. 

A lovely garden, flushed with vibrant colors; greens, whites, blues, a whole spectrum of pretty colors that met him and made him feel just a little out of place in his stark red troupe attire. Everywhere he looked was beautifully alive, and yet somehow filled him with some terrible dread. How was this kingdom dying, when it contained areas which looked like this? Why did this feel so familiar, so comfortable, and yet so very unfamiliar and uncomfortable at the same time?

PJ didn’t get very long to dwell on it, not before something would pull him from his musing reverie. What looked like a root, white and winding, curled at his feet. Had that been there when he had stopped? When had he stopped? The white root trailed, and when he followed it, it only led to more and more, leading to the seeming heart of the garden and all of its greenery. He did his best not to step on any of them, even as it became harder and harder to do so, some distant part of him deemed it rude.

In the center of it all, a tree. Or, what looked like one. It was wearing some sort of sweater, which was odd if you asked him— 

And then she turned and looked at him. He didn’t know how he knew that she was a she, but he knew. His heart stopped and all at once that familiarity-turned-dread turned into what felt a little bit like loss when she looked to him. 

And she spoke.

And it felt like he could feel her pain. 

“My wyrm?”

It was painfully familiar like he’d heard it a thousand times before, and yet he’d never been here before, never heard it before, couldn’t remember. He didn’t know how to respond. He might have formed some kind of response, but something cold and wet and horribly bitter was on his face and oh, he was crying, because liquid couldn’t get under his mask and yet, here he was, and she was crying too, a white root catching his tears, but nothing to catch her own. 

The way she looked at him hurt, all of this did; these tears, seeing hers, the lingering feeling like she was mourning and that he was blind as to why. He wanted to reach out to her, to comfort her as she most dearly needed, because that was what she was doing for him and he felt like he needed to return such… affection. So much of him felt like he should know more, and his mind only drew up a blank, aching in the way he’d begun to find familiar. 

He couldn’t speak, couldn’t find the words to say, but almost reflexively he stumbled and stepped forward, holding the stained root at his cheek like it was all he knew. And when he did his best to hug, he felt her return it, and the embrace felt like a certain kind of peace finally settling over him. 

Distantly, deep within the nightmare realm, the Nightmare King realizes a slight oversight in his plans. The wyrm, in his old territory, in the garden. Where the wyrm’s wife lives. Where the wyrm will most certainly dredge up old memories. Ah. 

( @darkautomaton​ @darkautodraws​ )

( @tornbutterflywings​ AND @confusedhost​ )

The leaves of the healthy brush blew lazily in the soft breeze, uncaring for the events that would transpire in the middle of the clearing. Light left bright splotches of colors splattering across the dirt flooring. The two in the clearing were locked in an intense gaze with the other. The gardens silent before a soft voice broke the silence, her words digging deep grooves in the jesters heart that left him more confused than anything else he could quite remember.

“I know you,” the woman he recognized whispered. “I know you, and I have missed you so much.” 

She knelt down, pressing her head to his, hands coming up to curl around him. “I’ve missed you so very much, my wyrm.”

The white shelled bug felt roots curl around him in such a familiar way, as if calling out for him; as if searching for something that was lost long ago. He couldn’t place where these new, strange feelings were coming from, though tears slipped down his face. Absently, he recognizes that he should feel something more when looking at this odd creature.

Before he could stop himself, his hand had grazed her cheek, before he jumped in his shell and flinched away. The creature's expression shifts from a soft and happy smile to unreadable.

"I… Apologies, I do not think I know you-" His voice is a tad higher pitched than usual as he steps away from this strange creature.

“You are my wyrm,” she whispered, putting emphasis on a word he didn’t know, but recognized so clearly. 

The Jester laughed, the sound echoing throughout the large clearing, as it was all he could do when faced with this idiocracy. “I am not a worm,” he said, ignoring the lump in his throat. “I am the jester to the Grimm Troupe, and that is what I’ve always been.”

The woman looked down upon him as if she could see through his soul. “And yet you are so familiar to me,” She whispered, pulling one of his arms into her palm. “You look much like my husband,” she explained, running a delicate hand over the fabric of his sleeve. “Four arms, like him. Your mask, like his.” Her voice could have lulled him to rest. 

She pressed a finger to his crown. “A crown of horns.” She peered down at him, white eyes blank from any emotion. “Much like his.”

His migraine that had been just shy of being a bother, broke through the barrier. 

"I am not your husband." He stated with a certainty he didn't feel, even as his throat tightened around the ball from before. Was he even breathing anymore? "I already told you! I am the jester of the Grimm Troupe, that is what I shall always be. It's what I have always been." He couldn't keep the distaste out of his voice as his eyes narrowed at the lady in front of him.

The look that crossed the White Lady's face made some part of the Pale Jesters' heart yearn to reach out and comfort her, yet after a moment the feeling seemed to be erased from existence. He pulled his arm out of her grip and stepped away from her. Every step away made his heart call out in pain as he kept one of his hands to his chest.

(The Jester didn’t like how he noticed the tension in her knuckles around her fist and felt a need to stop and please her. He didn’t like how he saw her lean forward and wanted to move to meet her, to cup her head in his hands and whisper something, like a small secret between them, like lovers would.

He didn’t like how he knew her without knowing her.)

He stopped, a ways away from her, yet close enough to feel too close. Close enough to talk. 

“Your name,” he said, voice quiet. 

This was a bad idea, this was a horrible idea, he should stop, he should stay away. Or tell the master. Or-

“You know who I am… So, out of curiosity, I demand you tell me who you are.” How strange of him to wonder. Very rarely did he care for another’s name. The troupe had little time for connections. It was as if a part of him thought that she knew a part of him that he, himself, did not. 

And perhaps there was a part of him that wanted to listen to that little call.

Her voice was almost a breath of wind, all too soft yet noticeable nonetheless, “You have called me your White Lady." The name she gave him echoed in his head, burning him. Her eyes had a twinkle of hope, a soft shimmer, and below that, something deeper that the Jester couldn't place. 

Her expression turned crestfallen when he had yet to speak. She sounded on the verge of tears, her voice shaking and oh so quiet in the wind that he almost didn't catch her words,"I... Oh, my love, whatever did he do to you? Why couldn't you have simply come to me instead?”

Any sort of sympathy the Jester held for her disappeared, eyes wide with hurt shock as his heart, beating side by side with the Nightmare heart pulsed with rage. “Come to you? For what? For assistance? For help? For freedom? To get me out of a situation that I am perfectly fine in? I do not need you,” The Pale Jester roared with a voice that felt less like his than ever and yet more like his than he could remember. “I do not need you. I do not know you! I have never met you before and I have never been here before-” 

Lying, you’re lying, stop lying-

“All I need,” the jester hissed, words low, tired, forced. “Is my master.” 

The white lady didn’t make a sound for a long moment.

The silence that fell over the clearing was suffocating as the Lady stared at him with what could only be described as disbelief and hurt. Her light eyes looked over what had become of the man she loved. She felt sick. 

"Is..." A hard swallow,"...Is that what you truly believe, Pale one?"  There was a harshness to her voice, the tone falling cold in a way that only put him on edge.  She felt the sadness wash over her, however she couldn't show that here. Not yet.

No, The Pale Jester thought.

“Yes,” he said, voice leaving little room for argument. “I am of the Grimm troupe and I don’t-“ He choked on a sob, but pushed it down. He was a jester, and jesters do not cry. “I do not need anyone else.”

The white lady stood to her full height, and the Pale Jester froze as she towered over him. “Then why did you come to my gardens,” she took a step forward. “Why did you come to me...” The Jester took a step back, “if you do not need me.” his chest clenched with fear of what she might do, mind screaming at him to scramble away, yet he was frozen in fear. 

The root stepped forward, softly cupping his face and leaning her face next to his own. Her soft voice, filled with pain and care, whispered into his ear,"Come back to me my wyrm." She closed her eyes tightly against the tears that threatened to escape.

She missed her husband, it was clear. From her soft tone that trembled, yet still held so much love, to the tight squeeze around the Jester’s mask, not enough to be painful, but from a need to hold on to something, someone. Even if it was just a scrap of the man she missed so dearly. Her palms curled around his face in such a familiar way. In a way that, at one point, must have filled someone with comfort, and yet all the Jester felt was fear.

He shuddered, trying to keep as still as possible. It was cold. He was cold in a way that felt so familiar, and yet it gripped him in ice claws and froze him to the core. “Please,” he whispered, taking a step back, a step away from her and her warm hands. “What’s wrong with me?” He bent down claws gripping the sides of his head. “Please...Please, I just want to know what’s wrong...”

The While Lady had taken some paces back, and her gaze had hardened. 

If the king was cold before, then white flash of mortification that ran through him only served to make him freeze.

"That is for you to find out. Return to me when you are finished playing this game." And with that she was gone, and the hole that started worrying itself in his heart only widened. His gaze followed her retreating form without a word escaping him. He watched her walk away as tears raced down his face, and even the burn from the Nightmare Heart was not enough to warm his cold heart.

The pale jester tucked his head in, shoulders shaking with a silent laugh. (Not a sob, no, not a sob. Jesters do not cry.) It’s not funny, none of it is, and yet he cannot stop. His chest hurts as he cackles, he feels numb. 

Still, he continues. 

There’s nothing else for him to do, anyway.

( @jklpopcorn​ )

#Absolutely gorgeous chain #perfect 5/5 writer artist balance #hollowknight #hollow knight #telephoneknight #otherart #otherfic #fanart #giftcorner #absolutely heartwrenching #long post

[emerald-amidst-gold]

Hello there friend! It is a me once again 😌 Dare I request some fluff?

27. piggy back hugs

MY FRIEND! Of course you can request some fluff since I broke your heart with my last drabble! >:D

BEHOLD, Fane, the chivalrous dragon! >:3

***

The Emerald Graves bore a duality that Solas found was a persistent theme in his life. Blissfully serene, but beautifully chaotic. Laden with sorrow, but thriving with joyous life. Awash with scars of the past, but still with the peace of the present. The lush forests with their tombstone trees, the various creatures that frolicked and loped, the babbling streams with old Elvhen monuments or statues lining their banks, and ruins upon ruins of a home that was taken as readily as it had been given. All of these things held the duality of nature, the light and dark, but there was, perhaps, one thing he found himself only seeing the dark side of an otherwise shimmering gold coin.

And that were roots, gigantic and jutting as surely as the wooden bodies that bore them. The trees within the Graves were large, towering, and their sturdy, ancient roots matched that tenacity, tearing through the verdant ground and bursting upwards as if those who had fallen were rising from their hallowed grounds.

However, it had not been the hand of a fallen Emerald Knight that sought Solas now as he walked beside Fane; his dragon's emerald eyes glistening with quiet gold as they stared forward, occasionally darting towards a rustling bush before a nug would scurry from it, eyeful march resuming its forward steps. It was just the two of them, Fane having ordered a split of their party to cover more ground, mark more landmarks for later observation and consideration, and as per usual, he took his place beside his dragon; always beside, never behind. It was an arrangement they both had declared silently, but knowingly, the bond of centuries answering for them.

Sadly, it was proving to be increasingly difficult to keep that arrangement as they proceeded deeper and deeper into the grove they had stumbled upon, the path narrowing, but only bringing them closer together, not apart, even if the alternative would be easier, but truthfully, Solas had no one to blame but himself for their venue, ancient energy making itself known within his mind and along his skin. It was a beautiful area, however, laden with colorful blooms of Embrium interspersed with Prophet's Laurel and Royal Elfroot. He would have to make note of this particular spot, but once they found the Elvhen artifact, it would be no issue relocating the prosperous path they tread.

Or rather, the treacherous path they tread, the ground rife with thick, winding roots that made it difficult to traverse without stumbling or getting caught up for a moment. Fane was having no trouble, long legs easily stepping over or a heavy boot merely crushing the wooden with a crack before its bearer would continue onward. He, on the other hand, was a little less...assured, occasionally catching the tip of his foot along a loop from where his leg would draw up short.

Solas let out a quiet growl of frustration as he, yet again, felt his foot catch, nearly stumbling and tumbling into the taller man beside him. These roots were truly irksome! He had traipsed into many a forest, many a crumbling ruin laden with obstructions all their own, but these specific obstacles were proving to be cunning and infuriating!

"You said it was around here, right?", Fane's voice sounded in his ears, deep and mildly flat as usual. The shifting of metal and leather telling Solas arms had been crossed. "Usually I can sense them, too, but I don't this time. Huh."

Solas glanced up from where he was glaring at the ground to see one pale, freckled cheek jutting out slightly as his dragon did his normal habit of pressing his tongue against the inside of his cheek, but unfortunately, he was unable to wax poetic over it as he was trying to traverse the maze of roots they had wandered into. Why were there so many?!

"It is...", Solas began, halting his words as he carefully side stepped and tiptoed over a rather pesky bunch of gnarled wooden arms. He kept his eyes glued to the ground as he continued, "..deeper in. The Veil has various abnormalities in these forests, so perhaps it is affecting your--", he tried to finish, but was cut off as another thick root had one of his feet twisting like it was twisted, looping and aggravatingly elegant. "Fenehdis lasa!" The curse spilling out unbidden as sudden pain had him grimacing and stumbling forward a bit.

Solas nearly tumbled forward due to having to take the majority of his weight off his foot, but, as quick as vipers, Fane's hands shot out to grab a hold of his shoulders, digging into fur and cloth to pull him back from meeting the earth. He winced a bit, pinching pain radiating through his foot and up to his ankle as he leaned towards Fane. Curse it all! How he managed to walk through life at times was a mystery! If this were the Fade he could disperse these blasted roots without growing tired!

"You okay?", Fane asked, voice dropping deeper with worry as his face came into view, eyes sparkling like iridescent runes and pale visage holding a sunlight glow from the sunlight filtering from down from above. Those all encompassing eyes held concern and typical protectiveness, the hands gripping Solas' shoulders tightening a bit.

"I..am fine..", Solas managed to get out, but winced in the next moment when he tried to ease his foot onto the cool ground, sharp, searing pain shooting up through his ankle. "I..merely twisted my ankle a bit." It felt more than a bit, scorching and throbbing, but the last thing he wanted was to induce more worry onto Fane, but with the way emerald eyes seemed to narrow with exasperation told Solas that that was but a dream.

"Describe the pain.", Fane said, practically demanding, inherent growl working its way forward from concern and Solas' attempts to divert.

Solas sighed, turning his head up a bit more to connect their gazes more completely. Emerald and gold flowed and shone as emotions began to run high within his dragon, snowy eyebrow twitching, lips down turned into a displeased scowl. He should know better than to hide from a dragon, but still he tried. Foolish.

"It is...uncomfortable.", Solas finally said, reaching up to give one of Fane's clawing hands a pat and a soothing stroke of a thumb. He smiled a bit, reassuring and calm despite the pain he felt in his foot. "That is all, ma'isenatha. A simple healing spell later on will suffice in soothing it." He hoped that would ease a draconic mind, but with the same emerald and gold sharpened told Solas otherwise, letting out a tiny sigh. And he was the worrywart of the two of them?

"You can't walk.", Fane growled, no question in it, only fact.

"I can walk perf--"

"Try it, then."

Solas gaped a bit, fumbling for another deflection, but came up short as another sharp surge of pain had him hissing, squeezing his eyes shut to the point where he saw static. Okay, so it would appear he would not be chancing strides any time soon. He sighed again as the fiery pain slowly ebbed again, cracking his eyes open to stare up into firm, but deeply worried orbs that reflected the mightiest of jewels. Fane was frowning with concern rather than scowling with irritation, inked vines of Sylaise seeming to wilt along with otherwise youthful muscles. Solas felt himself smile a bit despite not finding pleasure in such a sight. For his dragon to always be so concerned for his welling being, for everyone's well being, was truly touching, even if it was unnecessary at times.

"It would appear you are right in that I cannot walk.", Solas admitted, letting out a tiny chuckle as he shook his head. "But, there is a task yet, and I can endure." The Elvhen artifact was the priority at the moment, and it would be wasteful to them both if they had to abandon the grove now because of his gracelessness.

Fane scoffed, rolling his eyes. "On one foot? Yeah, okay. I'll just let you hop around until you bite it again.", he said with an exasperated growl before continuing, voice softer, but no less annoyed. "Don't be a fool.", he admonished before a large frame gingerly let go of him, but staying close as it descended onto a knee, turning from him. Solas tilted his head, blinking a bit and bracing himself on broad shoulders to keep himself steady.

"Fane? What are you doing?", he asked, brows knitting together in confusion as emerald and gold met him again from over a shoulder. It was unusual to be the 'tall' one in the relationship, Fane about a foot taller than he was.

It was...quite interesting, truth be told, warmth not born of bruised muscle making itself known across his cheeks and the tips of his ears. Solas swallowed a bit as a knowing smirk turned up one corner of Fane's mouth, the heat rising, the interest spreading it. Oh, yes. This was...this was very interesting. So interesting, that he almost tuned out his dragon's next words.

"Get on.", Fane commanded flatly, motioning to his back with a jerk of his chin. "You point the way towards the artifact, and I'll take us to it." Snowy hair swayed as he turned his head forward again, but glimmering eyes continued to watch from the side, observing his reaction oh so typically, but not unwelcome.

"You wish to...carry me?", Solas questioned, the heat upon his face rising evermore when his inquiry was met with silence and a tiny smirk upon tender lips. "You..do." His voice eking up slowly, somewhat sheepishly. Again, this was interesting, interesting, interesting. This deciduous forest suddenly felt like a rain forest, hot and sweltering, his collar feeling tighter than usual, the layers upon him feeling like there were far too many, that they were far too heavy.

Fane chuckled, dutifully waiting on bent knee. "This is your chance to ride a dragon, my sky. Best take it.", he joked, smirk growing ever wider.

Solas let out a shaky chuckle of his own, hands upon sturdy shoulders gliding forward to find a niche before he carefully, so as not to aggravate his ankle, as well as the scars he knew laid beneath metal and leather, hopped forward a bit to straddle a wall of a back. He lowered himself gingerly, leaning in to press their bodies together before shifting his arms to wrap around Fane's neck. Hands appeared to pull and grip his thighs gently so that they hugged a toned waist before Solas felt himself rise along with Fane, the endeavor effortless, the motion fluid without a grimace of pain or a grunt of exertion.

In. Ter. Est. Ting.

Solas felt his face go deadpan, mind whirling, thoughts bordering on impure as large hands squeezed flesh and their bodies seemed to meld and mold together perfectly, his arms tightening around Fane's neck to where he was practically hugging the man of his intense, intense, interest. He felt oddly weak all of a sudden, and almost unbearably hot.

"Comfortable?", Fane's voice pierced his scorching thoughts, timbre and baritone making Solas shudder lightly before he sighed, actively burying his face into the black leather of the dragon's jacket. It smelled of the forest, oddly, snow, and familiarly of chamomile. He could die smelling those scents and be happy. Yes, he could.

"You are..", Solas mumbled into Fane's coat, taking a deep breath as he tightened his hug around his neck, but careful to not choke the man. It would not do for them both to be out of commission. "...strong.", he finished, internally berating himself for his lack of eloquence. It would appear his ankle wasn't the only thing beginning to numb with heat.

Fane chuckled deeply. "Like that, do you?", a tease slipping out, its cadence holding a, no doubt, intoxicating smirk, but Solas couldn't will himself to look up, to bask in its snowy disposition for his face was burning, a blush spreading all along the expanse of his face and down to his neck, he knew, but Fane didn't have to.

"I..", Solas paused, shifting a bit as strong hands squeezed at his thighs, movement beginning as Fane effortlessly strode forward, boots crunching through treacherous roots with far more force than was necessary. "..merely believed you enjoyed the benefit." He was fumbling, falling, and frazzled beyond belief, his only stabilizing influence the sturdy shoulder, that was flexing on occasion from gentle shifts and general movement, that his face was now practically burrowed into.

"Mm.", Fane hummed, knowing and pleased. The arms holding Solas' legs jerked a bit, repositioning him deftly without breaking strides. That action nearly had Solas growling before he took in a deep breath, chamomile and nature cooling him a bit, but not by much. He couldn't even feel the heat of his ankle anymore, the inferno now coursing throughout his entire body, his blood.

And that had him acting bold as he shifted his head a bit, peeping out from his hiding spot to immediately see a sidelong glance of glittering emerald and delicate gold watching him, observing him, their depths holding wells upon wells of unbridled emotion. Concern, love, devotion, and most of all, acceptance. Solas smiled a tiny smile, eyes going hooded as Fane's did in turn. How foolish of him to act the damsel when he understood the knight holding him would never look at him adversely for his softer habits. No, if anything, they were both on equal footing; walking beside, never behind.

"But, since you asked..", Solas whispered, leaning up a bit to nuzzle at a pointed ear, smirking a bit as it twitched and hands clawed into his thighs, goosebumps rising even underneath leather to where he let out a quiet, but heated sigh. "..I do like such undiluted power, ma'isenatha. Do you wish to show me more of it?"

The Elvhen artifact was but an afterthought as roots snapped along with a draconic leash and Solas, too, felt his shackles break as surely as waves against a rocky shore, chaotic, but wholly beautiful.

***

Did it get away from me a bit? Is it slightly spicy? Did I twist Solas' flirting dialogue to adhere to him and Fane's dynamic?! *gasp* I DIIIIIID! AHAHAHAH! *coughs harshly* E...Enjoyyyy! <3

#prompts #drabbles #solavellan #oc: fane lavellan #solas #these two can't go two seconds later in their relationship without testing the other's restraint XD #solas has a thing for raw power #he likes the muscles #OHHH YES HE DOES #somft solas :3 #fane being a dragon of few words but KNOWING the effect he has on the sky #HNNNNG #I HOPE YOU LIKE IT! <3 #dragon age #my writing

[limenysnocket]

Call Me Home

Summary: It's in the bloom of summer and both of you are tired. It's been hopping from film to film for months, set by set, and so it's time to relax. Pick a nice shack out in the quiet and humble native lands for a night or two, and watch the stars and the fireflies flicker around the butt of your cigarette.

Warnings: Really nothing other than swearing and smoking.

Pairing: Taika Waititi x Reader

Words: 1.5k it’s a shorty, I know.

A/N: This is just something I wanted to write. It's blazing outside, and it's right around the time I wish it was night already and down to 70-something degrees. Hope y'all enjoy this random bit of fluff.

This is all based off of a sweet and sappy blues/jazz song so--

@honorarytenenbaum @olyvoyl

•○●•○●•○●•

"I'm so damn tired," Taika moans and plops himself down in a rickety, old rocking chair beside you. You were atop a small glider. It wasn't enough to completely lay down in, but it was enough to kick your feet up and watch the sun start to go down. The grass, wet from a fresh storm, was now engulfed in orange flame. The light licked all the way up the wooden steps of the porch, and to the tips of Taika's work shoes.

Taika slumped in his seat, his long legs extending out and his arms laying lazily over the arms of the chair. His eyes were closed, and he just seemed to be taking in the last of the blazing heat. "I'm glad it's over," you murmured. His head, once angled to look at the horizon, then tilted to face you. He had a goofy, soft grin.

"It's not over quite yet. There's still the editing and putting it all together, then heading right over to Hollywood for the premier and it's just... oh, man," he put his hand on his scruffy cheek and rubbed at it. He had been wearing a smile all day, whether he liked to or not, due to the mass amount of press that was at the studio doors as soon as you both were done shooting. "Yeah. At least that part is done with. Hemsworth was starting to get on my nerves at the end there."

"What? Only at the end?" you guwaffed at him and he rolled his eyes. You knew he had a thing out for Hemsworth since the beginning. The way his muscles would bulge out in his costume turned Taika jealous-- especially when he realized they would have to do editing magic on him to actually make his biceps look normal-- and that's not all. The Aussie, on occasion, would be a flirt with you, and attempt to get your attention while on set. His little advances would briefly be shut down as soon as Taika spotted him.

Ever so slowly, the cicadas crept from their hiding spots, and began to serenade the two of you from trees. It was annoying at first, and you wanted to make a suggestion to go inside, but when you looked at Taika, all you could see was how at peace he was. He had rested his elbow on the arm of the chair and his hand was cradling the side of his face. His eyes were closed again. You were almost totally sure he was asleep.

After being inside of the little shack for some time, you realized why he wanted to come out here.

The place still had tin walls, and the doorknobs were made of copper. The wooden porch was splintered and cracked, and it squealed under even the softest of touches. The rooms still had wallpaper. It was a floral pattern with a white background, but it turned yellow at the tops and bottoms, and the paper curled and wrinkled. It smelled so old. What brought Taika here again?

He was the brand new, fresh out of his own late uprising, blessing to the directing world genius that everyone wanted on set. Hollywood smothered him in love, money, and women. So much so, the paparazzi followed him around like flies to manure. As much as he loved attention, those jackasses were hard to avoid and they got annoying real quick, especially when all he wanted to do was enjoy a party or two. Indulge in a sensory overload and drown in sex for a few hours.

The notoriety had gotten to his head. He changed into someone unrecognizable...

Did he?

You looked at Taika again. His heel was gently rocking his chair back and forth. He looked so happy and content. Happier than you'd seen him in days. His dress shirt was was unbuttoned from the top two buttons, and his belt was missing. His dress shoes were scuffed and his hair was a mess. He still had his tie on, but it hung low and loose on his neck. He looked almost the same as the first day you met him. Tired and hunched over from his latest piece of fine cinema.

“Doing okay?” you break the bug song and make him open his dreary eyes. “Just checking.”

He sat up again, adjusting himself in his seat and grinning wide. “Never better,” he looked back over to you, and the porch slowly grew dim. The crickets added a melody to the tune the locust sang, and little, moving, balls of light started to emerge from the tall grass. “Why do you ask?”

“I’m curious, you know that,” you nearly whispered to him, the new breeze making you want to fall asleep on the dingy little sofa.

“Curious about what?” now he had started to ask questions too, interrupting your doze. It was pay back and concern in a bottle.

“Why did you pick this place?” you approach the topic bluntly, but calmly. “You could be staying in the fanciest hotel there is in New Zealand right now with what Marvel is paying you, but you chose an old shack instead. I want to know why.”

His lips pursed. He’s back to staring at the horizon again. “It’s just something quaint I picked. No story behind it.” He sniffed and wrapped his knuckles against the tin wall of the house. It wasn’t familiar to him. 

“Okay, so you don’t know it, but is there something that you like about it?” you asked further questions. The answers you would received would be saved in the back of your mind for later.

“I like the peace,” Taika shrugged and swatted at a little June bug. “It’s nice to get away from the cameras every once in awhile. They bother me when I don’t want them around.”

You laughed to yourself about Taika actually hating attention for once. He had always been a seeker, in your eyes. It was almost weird to see him in such a way. Actually wanting to be away. And, with you, of all people to be with. He probably just needed a little bit of company with him at all times. Just to be safe.

“That all?” you wonder. “Cause this place sure does remind me of where you shot Boy. Little town, full of little people, and one lady who has all the jobs in the whole area, Taik.”

You managed to get him to blow an amused laugh out of his nose with the reference you made to his movie. It felt like he made that thing so long ago. That was back before his hair started to go silver. “I mean, I guess it’s a little like the Boy set, and you know my connections with that place.” His commentary was a bit strained, because he was reaching for the cigarettes he kept in his back pocket. They were probably a little smooshed by now. He settled back into his seat once he was comfortable again, and sighed. “It’s like a little calling, I guess. Something, I don’t know. I like having money and all, and as a kid, nothing about this was comforting. Fuck, all I wanted to do was get out of these shit conditions with teachers that hated me, kids that hated me, and the big fucking imagination  I had kept me from seeing things straight. Here, I thought I wouldn’t amount to shit, probably because I was told that, but,” he started to pause his rant, but just to set a cigarette between his lips and nudge out his lighter from his front pocket. “I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me. I always kind of find myself wanting to come back to the bush.”

You didn’t really have to think of anything to say. You knew he didn’t want to hear much at all, but you had one question on your mind.

“How’s Hollywood been treating you, Taika?”

His head whipped around like an unstoppable force of nature. He pulled the freshly lit cigarette from his lips, eyes a little wider than you expected them to be. “You want me to be frank with you?”

“No, dipshit, I want you to be Taika with me- of course, I want you to be frank with me,” you snort, and his lips pull up just the slightest bit.

He took a moment to collect his words, his eyes flickering around like he was watching a little bug-Satan fly around his face for too long. He came to his conclusion after about a minute.

“It’s been treating me like shit, thanks for asking,” he said it in such a dopey manner, you had to smile. “It feels great to be home.”

#taika waititi x reader #Taika Waititi #taika waititi imagine #taika waititi/you #fanfiction #fanfics #Look mom another dirty fanfiction series #Tumblr is a bitch sometimes

[halcyonstorm]

I'm so sorry this prompt took me a long time to start, but once I started, I finished it in three days. I loved writing this prompt so much. I hope you enjoy. Warning: Angst, Major Character Death

The title is: The Most Beautiful Flower (For You) (click to read on ao3)

If heaven was a place on Earth, it would be in Italy. When the gentle waves of the Tyrrhenian sea kissed the Mediterranean coastline, the cool water splashed against the very pregnant gardener’s feet, as well as the powerful Duke, the father-to-be. The bright, hot sun beamed from across the ocean as it submerged beneath the waters. Suddenly, the gardener felt a sharp pain in her stomach, causing her to groan loudly.

“It’s time…” She whispers harshly, beginning to place her hands on her knees.

It is ironic, though, how the scariest human to roam their city was born on such a beautiful night. The child’s father, the Duke of Smeraldo City, shouldn’t have impregnated the beautiful woman who tends to his castle’s garden daily, but he did. His wife, the Duchess, was infertile. This angered the Duke, causing him to have a secret affair with the gardener, a poor yet beautiful woman who he met with daily and eventually fell in love with. The Duke was scared. He didn’t know how or when to deliver a baby. He was smart, but he was smart in politics and economics, not childbirth. She sat down on the white sand behind a large rock, hidden from the rest of the world. He didn’t have time to bring her to a clinic. She opened her legs, ready to push. The Duke was ready. He patted her forehead dry of the sweat that had beaded up. He noticed then that she was extremely cold. This confused him; It was warm outside, almost too warm for the evening. She should be warm. She was starting to breathe heavy, her screams of pain becoming more breathless with each push.

With each push to expel the baby, more and more blood came out of her, staining the white sand dark red and black. It horrified the Duke. He was falling for this woman. He felt worse that he had no idea what to do to help her. When he saw the head, he cried out in joy, almost forgetting about the mother’s condition.

“You’re almost there! You got this,” he encouraged. His mistress looked ghostly pale with more sweat dripping down her face. She doesn’t look good. He noticed her neck pulsating. With three more pushes, the woman couldn’t scream any more; she was too exhausted. She was losing too much blood. The baby came out, crying and whining. The Duke was happy, extremely happy. All he wanted was a child. That happiness was short-lived, though. When the Duke wrapped his child up in his button-up shirt, he noticed his mistress hadn’t spoken a word. In fact, she was still… too still. He narrowed his brows in confusion and face contorted to worry. He placed his newborn down in the cool sand and quickly scrambled to place his ear to her chest. No heartbeat.

That is how Levi was born.

-

His father was scared he’d be caught by the Duchess, so he locked his child away in a tower on the outskirts of Smeraldo City. His father would come to visit him weekly, often having a maid tend to Levi in his place. Levi grew up hidden away in that castle. The castle, although extravagant, was torture for Levi. He hated it. It was a huge, tall tower made of cobblestone and vines. Levi had this aching, empty feeling in his chest when the maid would leave for the night. He described the feeling to her, and she explained to him it was “loneliness”. He never knew the feeling, but it was all that he felt when the sound of his shoes tapping the floor echoed as he walked down the dark, empty corridor at night. The lack of affection caused Levi to grow cold. He began to despise his maid, too. He was just her job, after all. Her extra chore. One more task to complete for the Duke of Smeraldo. When his prestigious father would come to visit, it was mainly to just apologize for avoiding him. It was a constant cycle. “I’m sorry,” he’d say, then proceed to do just that for another six months. Some nights, he would go to Levi’s castle to scream at him. “You are the reason she is dead,” he’d complain to Levi. The truth is, the Duke wanted a child. That child; however, was not Levi. Levi’s raven black hair and piercing grey eyes were too similar to his mother’s, causing the Duke to avoid Levi as much as possible. Levi despised his father. Whenever Levi’s maid/replacement mother came to visit him as a teenager, she always kept her distance. She’d stay on the far side of the room when she tended to his laundry, avert her gaze when he looked at her, and keep their conversations short and brief

“Why must you keep your distance from me?” Levi would ask.

“Because you are ugly,” she would reply. It didn’t hurt Levi’s feelings. He didn’t care about his appearance. He had no one to show. He was truly and utterly alone. Sometimes, the maid would come to his castle with a man. He wasn’t sure about many things. When he saw the man with her, he decided to watch them. He would wait around the corner from the maid’s bedroom, waiting and hearing what they’d do. When he’d leave her quarters, he’d press his lips to hers. Levi realized at that moment, he wanted a maid too. He wanted to feel whatever the fuck they were feeling. He decided to ask her about it.

“Why does that man press his lips to yours?” Levi asked as he stared at the stone ceiling in his bedroom. The maid was hesitant before replying. She realized she never taught him about those feelings.

“Because we are in love,” She replied plainly, sitting on a chair in his room, still keeping herself a safe distance away from the ugly and scary man. “We are close friends. Over time, we fell in love.”

“What is love?” Levi asked.

“Love is… complicated. It’s a feeling of deep affection... and it can be applied to anything or anyone. With a person, it is the feeling you get when you’re excited to see someone and enjoy their presence, but it’s also dangerous. Falling in love means you can get hurt, too. The person you love may decide they want to be with someone else, or they lose that feeling. Or, they may never feel that way about you at all…” She spoke from experience.

“Love is stupid,” Levi determined. “Why do it if you’re going to get hurt?”

“Love isn’t a choice,” she debated. “It can be, like the Duke and Duchess.” Levi perked up, the hairs on his nape erect.

“The Duchess isn’t my mother?” He asked. She hesitantly shook her head no. “Then who is?”

The maid told Levi about his mother, the gardener. She told him how his mother would sing to her belly every morning and evening, read him stories, and share her life stories with him. Levi smiled at this. From what the maid told him, his mother truly loved him, unlike the Duke. Learning about his mother inspired him to pick up gardening. He began by binge-reading the gardening and plant books in the master library. During the weeks, he would wear his black hooded cloak and mask and head into the town’s market. There, he found a stall that sold flower seeds of all kinds from Italy. The first seeds he bought were that of oleander flowers. He remembers from his book that they stood for “caution” and “destiny”. It is destined that he must be cautious around others, and others must be cautious around him. He was horrifying to the everyday civilians, and the shrieks of horror kept him cooped up in his tower for months until he finally got the courage to go into town again.

In those few months, his flowers began to sprout. The flowers were all he thought about day in and day out. They were his only joy. These were the first moments he felt “love”.

When Levi turned 22, his garden was blossoming into something extravagant. There was a dainty, white archway at the beginning of the trail that led to the tower. Inside, there were fields of white lilies -the flower of Italy- blooming in early April. As he walked through his garden, he bent down next to a budding cyclamen flower. It was a small pink flower, surrounded by its family. The family’s flowers were dark pink at the roots, becoming lighter in color towards the end of the petal. They opened up and out, allowing the sun to help them grow. He gently grazed his finger over the petals, feeling its velvety smooth texture.

“At least flowers can’t hate me,” he’d reassure himself. He placed his hands on his knees, standing up. With his bucket of soil and the packets of seeds laying on top, he found an empty patch of grass. He started to dig with his small shovel. Once he reached an area where the soil was moist, he opened the package and sprinkled the seeds inside. The seeds claimed to be for a Juliet rose. One that stood for love and beauty. He knew of love and beauty. He was standing all around it.

For hundreds of yards, the castle’s courtyard was filled with flowers in intricate patterns that were only visible from the top of the tower. Flowers that formed flower shapes, circles, lines, and everything in between. The bees had three hives attached to purple wisteria trees. He loved those trees the most. They were tall, old trees that were by his side ever since he could remember. The trees were almost like his grandparents, watching him take his first steps and speak his first words. Now, they take in his music when he hums a tune as he waters his flowers and console him when he vents about his father. He liked to walk through his garden and visit the wisterias. He would use the tips of his fingers to caress the petals between his fingers. He loved wisterias the most.

He woke up the next morning slumped under a wisteria tree, the purple tree creating a cool shade that enveloped his body from the warm sun. The grass beneath him was flattened by his body. He scrubbed it vigorously to help the grass stand upright again. Then, he stretched his arms above his head, groaning loudly. He stood up, using his watering can to hydrate the flowers as he walked through his garden. When he got to the rose bushes, though, he noticed some flowers were missing. He furrowed his brows, crouching down to examine the damage. One, two, three, four… Four roses were missing. They were intricately plucked from the bush, as if the perpetrator had planned this. Someone stole from my garden. His jaw clenched tightly when he realized this. How dare someone steal from me? He asked himself. He spent years and years tending to his garden and perfecting it, and now someone was trying to take his one and only joy away.

That night, he hid close to the rose bushes. He hid behind a tall vine of bougainvillea flowers. The beautiful pink flowers were bright as the moonlight shone on them. They hung over the tall, stone wall that encompassed his garden and the tower. As he lay in wait, he admired the beautiful leaf-like petals of the flowers. They were soft, rich, and pure. He was proud of his garden. He was reminded why he was waiting again, his blood boiling.

That night, the suspect did not show up. Nor did they show up for the few nights he guarded the garden. This person was sneaky. The person knew Levi was watching them, lurking, waiting to catch them. Levi caught on fast to this cat-and-mouse game. After a week of no luck, he decided to wait in his tower. He peered over his balcony one night and looked down at his garden. The white lilies blew in the cool spring breeze, They were hard to view, considering the moon wasn’t as bright. It was in the waning gibbous phase, darkened on its right side, bright on its left. It hung high in the sky, looking smaller than it did just a week ago. Levi was broken out of his trance when he heard a soft rustle in his garden. Levi glared out the window and off the balcony, peering down below. There, he thought. There they are. It was a girl. The girl had dark hair, wearing what looked like a piece of white cloth that draped over her lanky body. She had crouched down next to the rose bush, starting to tug. Levi decided to go downstairs. He grabbed his dark cloak and mask on the way out.

By the time he had gotten down to the garden, she was walking away, four more flowers in her hand. Levi was enraged. He felt his blood start to boil. Why is this girl stealing from me? Does she think this castle is abandoned? How would the garden be so well managed if it was? How dare she steal from him, stealing from the only thing he truly cared about. She walked slowly through the forest, talking to herself. She would ramble on about her mother and father and money. Levi was puzzled. She was talking as if there were someone standing right next to her. Maybe she knew he was there? No, he thought. She’d freak out. She’d never come back. Levi’s frown turned into a wide grin, a new idea popping in his head. He, unfortunately, thought of his plan too late. They had arrived in town. As Levi followed her to the marketplace, he kept asking himself why she stole from him. It was still booming at 2000 that night. The market was filled with stalls and tents. A lull of chatter hummed through the town as he followed the girl. He saw her stop at one specific stall and go behind it. She spoke to a tall man who looked to be her father. He shared the same brown shaggy hair as her. He gave her a wide smile as she handed him the flowers.

“I was only able to get four,” The girl explained to her father. “These ought to make us a lot of money! Then we can buy shoes!” At that moment, he realized both her and her father were barefoot. Levi felt a pang in his chest.

“Indeed, my love. Thank you,” her father said, kissing her forehead. Levi was taken aback. She wanted to sell his flowers? Is that what love looks like?

“These flowers are beautiful,” She said, recalling the scenery in her mind. “The garden has all different types! It’s breathtaking. I wish I could go during the day… but I don’t want to get caught.”

“Yes, that’s best,” he explained. “Hange, see what other types of flowers are there and see if any are worth selling.”

Levi felt his heart skip a beat when Hange complimented his garden. He was able to get a better look at her face. She looked about his age and had half her hair tied up in a messy knot. She had a hooked nose that fit her face perfectly. Her eyes were gleaming when the glow of the string lights hit them. He couldn’t describe how he thought she looked. It didn’t bother him that his heart was racing in his chest or how his palms were sweating. He didn’t know how to describe her, but he knew he wanted to see her more.

When he went home, he found a small rectangle piece of wood, a thick stick, some nails, and a hammer. He grabbed a bucket of paint and wrote the following on the rectangular piece of wood:

Be mindful of the thorns.

He went back downstairs to the garden to stake it into the ground after hammering it together. He wanted to see the girl again. He didn’t want her to hurt herself, though. He didn’t want to give her any measly excuse not to come back to his garden. She liked it. She complimented his garden.

-

“I think a ‘crush’ is the term you’re searching for,” the maid answered. She looked down in her lap. Levi felt his face go red.

“A what?” He scowled.

“It’s like… when you’re attracted to someone. When you enjoy seeing them and being around them…”

“I thought that was ‘love’ in your book.”

“Having a crush and being in love are different,” she began. “Love is developed over time. Eventually, a crush turns into love if you let it linger.” Levi shook his head fast.

“No, no,” he muttered to himself. “That can’t happen. I can’t love anyone.”

The maid stood up, stepping towards him. This was the closest she’s been to him in a long time. He looked up at her as he sat on the bed.

“Everyone is worthy of and deserves love. Even you.” When she spoke, he truly felt she meant it.

-

Two days later, Levi was in his tower waiting for Hange. Around 1945, she arrived on time. As she walked through the archway, she saw the sign right away. He heard her speak it aloud. She let out a short laugh. Her short laugh was like a loving punch to his gut, taking his breath away. It was so… crush, he determined. She didn’t stop and crouch at the rose bush like he predicted. She waltzed through his garden, careful to avoid stepping on his flowers. He heard her hum a tune as she danced through his garden. She took his breath away time and time again. She was as beautiful as the garden around her. She stopped humming when she noticed the oleander flower patch, right against the tower.

“Caution,” she said softly, careful not to rouse the garden keeper. Too late, though, but she didn’t know that. Levi was shocked at her statement. She knew why he put them there. The flowers rustled in the wind as it picked up. She crouched down to pet the flowers with the back of her index finger.

“These truly are beautiful,” she said to herself. Levi felt a smile creep up on his face. She looked up to the sky. “Why must I be cautious?” she asked herself. “Anyone who can create such beauty mustn’t be someone to be cautious of.” When she spoke, Levi had a thought cross his mind. Maybe I can show her myself. It was a silly thought, and Levi didn’t entertain it too much longer than that moment.

Another week passes by and the moon’s light is slowly diminishing each day. A new moon is coming. How will Hange know which flowers to pick? Levi thought of a solution. He grabbed his handy hammer as well as some string lights and secured them around the archway leading to his garden. On the ground, he stuck little lamps into the ground that radiated a white light. This way, Hange can come even when there’s a new moon. He also created a sign: The orchids are very loved. He loved his orchids so, but they were better off to give to someone who needed them. Orchids were rare to find and plant in Italy, and Levi had spent years and years trying to find the perfect technique to grow his lovely purple orchids. They were his favorites; he loved their long stem with the flowers that hung over the edge. He loved admiring the flowers up close, getting a very detailed view of the veins of the vibrant flower petals.

The moon was just a crescent in the sky when Hange came next. She wandered through the garden, not a care in the world, admiring the blooming flowers. She paused in her waltz when she saw his sign about the orchids. Her eyes shifted from the sign to the orchids. Indeed, they are beautiful, she thought to herself. She crouched down with her small shovel and pot and began to dig them up. This surprised Levi. The last few times, she picked the flowers with her hands. Now, she is preserving the flower’s life by relocating them to her pot.

“These sure are beautiful,” she said softly to herself. With the hustling and bustling of the town across the town, he wasn’t able to hear her. Again, he felt a pang in his chest when he imagined her seeing him for the first time. Her terrified face, her hands trembling in fear. He couldn’t scar her like that. He was too ugly, too brawny, too unworthy of being loved that he couldn’t dare to even consider revealing himself to her.

The next flower he wanted to draw her to were the gardenias. Now that she knew about flowers, he wanted to show her all he had to offer. He enjoyed seeing her in his garden. She talked a lot; he felt as if he were talking to her. She started staying for longer periods of time, which Levi enjoyed. He wondered if she even knew someone tended to the garden. She must, he thought. She sees your signs, right?

The gardenias were in a bushel next to the white lilies. He enjoyed having all the colors coordinated. Red when someone first walks in, met by rose bushes. Towards the castle were the oleanders of all colors, but mainly pink. That is where the bougainvillea’s were too, hanging from the castle window and wall surrounding the garden’s perimeter, as well as having their own bushel below. By his wisteria trees were the violets, orchids, periwinkles, and bluebells. The white flowers were blended with the purple and blue flowers. The white flowers included the lilies and gardenias, as well as jasmines. He loved the look of the small, delicate gardenia flowers climbing the wall surrounding his castle and garden. They had beautiful, rich white petals and a bright yellow center. He didn’t want to show them for his usual reasons, but in order to make a move. Gardenias stood for secret love, as well as a confession of sorts. After seeing her white cloth in the gardenias, he realized his crush was developing into something more. He decided to make another sign and placed it by the entrance: Open at dawn.

Hange seemed to understand his messages perfectly. One early afternoon, Levi was tending to his violets when he heard a familiar rustling. He didn’t have his cloak on or his mask. He was totally and utterly exposed. He quickly gathered his things and hid behind a grand wisteria tree. Please see me. Please don’t see me. She noticed footprints in the damp soil by the tree.

“Your flowers are beautiful,” Hange said aloud. “You have been a great help. I’ve finally gotten my own shoes!” She chuckles and glances at her covered feet. “I am trying to figure out a way to repay you…” You don’t have to repay me. I don’t mind.

“There are stories that a monster lives here,” Hange began, sitting down and leaning her back against the same wisteria tree Levi was hiding behind. “Is that supposed to be you? The person who plants these beautiful flowers?” Her words cause Levi’s cheeks to redden. She looks towards the bluebells. She sits up and kneels to admire them.

“Bluebells…” she murmured. “Gratitude. Everlasting love. I feel gratitude towards your everlasting love for this garden.” She giggled to herself. “Ah, I’m rambling nonsense. I should get going. My father will be worried. I hope you don’t mind if I take some flowers.” Take as many as you need. She walked through the garden. There was a sign next to the white gardenias as she walked towards the exit.

You’re lovely.

-

Levi was proud he was helping Hange and her family. From the sound of it, they were doing better. They were able to afford clothes for their bodies and provide two meals a day. She explained it was only her, her mother, and her father. She explained how her family loved her very much, and Levi believed her. He yearned for a love like that. He yearned to be loved at all. A foolish and childish thought ran through his mind. Could she ever love me? Does she love me? How could she love someone she’s never even seen before? Levi decided he must show himself to her. He must make some sort of confession to her. He planned it in the best way he could. He began searching the markets day in and day out to find the seeds to plant the most beautiful flower for Hange. It would be sure to bring Hange’s family wealth as well as help Hange understand Levi’s feelings.

He dressed in his dark cloak and mask and walked through the forest to the market. The smeraldo flower was one of the hardest to successfully grow in Italy. The smeraldo flower seeds were sold for dirt cheap since they were so difficult to grow. Many people attempted to grow said flower, but never succeeded. Once it blooms, it must be carefully maintained in order for them to prosper. He purchased a bag of seeds and headed home. He found the perfect spot in his garden: surrounding the wisteria tree. The purple of the wisterias and the blue of the smeraldos would perfectly blend together next to the violets, periwinkles, and crocuses. He got excited. Once he got home, he started to read about the Smeraldo flowers.

Must be planted at dusk. Must be watered every two days at dusk. Do not tear away dead leaves and flowers. Must be maintained in damp soil. If drought occurs, water daily. Meaning: I’m unable to tell you the truth.

Levi’s heart ached when he read the final line. Hange, he thought. I am unable to show you my truth. He wanted to, but he couldn’t dare to scare her away from his garden. He planned to make a grand gesture to express his love for her. He adored everything about her. She was his Sun.

That night, he went outside to plant his flowers. The sun was kissing the horizon, hanging low in the pink sky. He grabbed his small handheld shovel and began to dig a small moat around the tree. He palpated the soil with his fingers. It’s damp. It’s dusk. It was all ready. He sprinkled the seeds evenly around the moat of the tree and then scooped the dirt, placing it on top of the seeds. He patted it with his hands.

It took the Smeraldo flowers a long time to grow. Almost a year passed before the flowers were blooming. For every two days since he planted them, he watered them. Hange would stop by, chatting up a storm to the flowers before taking some in her bucket and leaving. As Hange aged one more year, she looked radiant. With the flowers to help her eat and dress, she filled out. She wasn’t as lanky as she was just one year ago. One specific summer day, Hange fell asleep in his garden. Her hair was sprawled over the white lilies, her body lying on the grass. Levi took this time to be brave. He walked over to her in broad daylight. He sat down next to her, admiring her face. She looked so peaceful.

“Hange, I am Levi,” he whispered, being careful to avoid waking her. “This is my garden. I am glad to hear you like it.” He looked into his lap then at the lilies. He plucked a lily from the bunch, tucking it behind her ear. Her dark brunette hair looked like melted chocolate scattered amongst the lilies.

“You are the most beautiful thing in this garden.”

-

Around 1700, Hange woke up. She noticed her pot was filled with beautiful gardenias. Levi filled it for her while she slept. Hange smiled softly.

“I wish to meet you someday, Levi,” she sighed, standing up then grabbing her pot. As the words came out of her mouth, she wasn't sure how she knew his name, but she was glad she did. The sun was beginning to set. She glanced up at the open castle window before turning on her heel to leave the beautiful garden once again. That night, Levi tended to his smeraldo flowers. They were beginning to bloom, a small baby blue head poking out of the green stem. It made him smile. He created this life.

It took about another month for the smeraldo flowers to fully open up and express their beauty. They were the most beautiful flowers Levi had ever seen. These are sure to help Hange the most. They were a light blue and purple with rather strange petals that opened less and less as they reached the center. They looked perfect surrounding the wise wisteria tree. They were so perfectly fitting for Levi and Hange.

He had planted some extra flowers in a hidden part of the garden just for Hange to take. He wanted her to be happy, so happy from his flowers. His flowers were all he ever knew. He wanted to tell Hange his truth, so so bad. He couldn’t. He couldn’t risk hurting her. All he wanted was for her to be at peace.

That day, he wrote another sign for her. He placed it along the path so she couldn’t miss it.

For you, behind the red camellias.

It took her a day to notice it - so yes, she did miss it. She loved the white flowers so much that she didn’t even venture to the red flower patches to find the smeraldos. She loved to dance and sing in the field of flowers that made Levi want to cry. It made his heart ache. She sounded like a siren; Her voice luring him, tempting him, but he had to try his hardest to resist her. As she had begun to leave that day, she noticed the new sign. Levi was in the garden that day, behind the wisteria. As she wandered behind the camellias, he followed her, peering at her behind the concrete archway leading to a hidden part of the garden. The smeraldo flowers were in a small bunch in a bucket, all ready for Hange to take. She gasped loudly when she saw them.

“Oh my God,” she exhaled. Her fingers touched her lips in wonder. Her eyes were wide. She ran to the flowers, kneeling down in front of them. She admired them closely, examining each vein of each petal and how the blue blended into purple. They were breathtaking.

“These are… extraordinary,” she said, caressing one flower with her hand. Tears welled up in her eyes.

“Levi… thank you,” she said his name again. It made Levi’s heart skip a beat. You are extraordinary, Hange.

“When I return tomorrow, I want to meet you,” she said aloud, picking up the pot by its wooden handle. “I know you can hear me. I know you’re nearby. If not, I’ll let the whole world know. I’ll scream it from the top of my lungs so you can hear me. I hear what they say about you in the village. They say you’re scary and that you’re a monster, but I find that hard to believe. You are kind. You are special.” Levi feels tears well up in his eyes, his throat tightening. What is this? He asked himself. “Ah… I am rambling again. Anyways, I will see you tomorrow.” She started heading for the exit. She looked beautiful: she wore a long, white dress with sandals. Please don’t go, he wanted to say. But she left, leaving Levi alone again.

That evening as the sun set, Levi picked bluebells from his garden. He hated to pluck and kill his flowers, but this was for something special. He brought the flowers in a bucket to his bedroom. He sat on his bed with the bucket, using a delicate hand to turn them inside out. His book states, If you are able to turn a bluebell inside-out without tearing it, you will win the one you love. It also states, Wearing a wreath of bluebells will allow you to speak the truth. Levi’s gentle touch manipulated the flowers in such a way to turn every single one inside-out; It took him hours. He was up till the sunrise working to make sure he didn’t rip any flowers. God forbid if anything messed up his chance. Then, he weaved the flower stems together, forming a beautiful vibrant wreath of bluebell flowers. Today, he was going to meet Hange in person.

He slept late that morning into the early afternoon. He jolted out of bed, instinctively looking out his window. Did she show? He didn’t see her. He put on his cloak and mask and went outside. He made sure to put on his wreath.

He waited till nightfall, and she didn’t show. The next day, she didn’t show. The day after that, she didn’t show. The bluebell wreath was beginning to wilt. Levi was starting to worry. He felt this strong urge to go into town. So, he dressed in his usual cloak and mask and followed his instinct. He found her father outside a building talking to a man in a white coat. They looked distraught. Levi frowned. Why is a doctor talking to Hange’s father? Why do they look sad? The doctor started walking with her father down the sidewalk. Levi felt extremely concerned. He walked across the street to the door they came out of. It was unlocked; Levi let himself in.

On the couch, Hange lay. She had a cold pack on her head, covered in blankets. She was sweating but shivering. Levi felt the familiar pang in his chest again. Levi swore Hange didn’t hear him come in, but she did.

“Who’s there?” she called out, coughing harshly. It sounded like she was coughing up her lungs. Levi felt his heart begin to race. He was nervous and scared.

“...Levi,” he replied.

“Show yourself.”

Levi did. He stepped out of the shadows into her field of vision. She gave him a soft smile.

“Come here,” she whispered. Levi did. He kneeled at her bedside.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, his face still completely covered.

“I got robbed,” she said, coughing harshly again. It made her wince in pain, a small “ow” escaping her lips. “They stabbed me.” She exposed her abdomen, blood seeping through the bandages on her upper left abdomen. Levi was too sad for words. His brows furrowed, lip quivered, eyes wide.

“I am going to die.” Levi felt his heart ache in his chest. His throat tightened again. No, no, no. This cannot be happening.

“Please, Levi,” she whimpered. “Let me... see your face.” Levi was like putty in her hands. He melted, seeing those rich beautiful hazel eyes looking at his face but at a black mask, unable to recognize any features. Levi slowly reached for his mask, untying the strap behind his head, letting it fall to the ground. That was the first and final time Levi got to look into Hange’s eyes. Hange gave him a sad smile. She reached her hand up to touch his cheek.

“You... are the most beautiful person... I have ever met,” She said, barely audible. Then, her hand fell from his face, her facial expression drooped. She was gone. Tears fell from Levi’s eyes uncontrollably. He tightly placed his hand on his mouth, sealing any sobs from escaping it. He wanted to admire her more, but he couldn’t. He had to go before they believed he killed her, delivering the final blow. He brought a white lily with him, her favorite, and tucked it behind her ear once more. He closed her eyes, pressed his lips to her forehead, as best as he could remember from his miniscule experience. Before he left her for good, he spoke.

“I will keep planting flowers for you. Over and over again.”

#levihan fic #levihan #my pride and joy #i loved writing this #levi ackerman #snk #hanji zoe #aot #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #levi x hanji #levi x hange

[earliebirb]

under the silvery moon

An Anon asked for some dancing stevetony! I hope you like it, Anon! 🤍

under the silvery moon

steve/tony, fluff, established relationship, 1912 words 

“Captain, you have truly outdone yourself.”

Steve feels his own lips break into an answering grin at the familiar voice. 

Tony pads across the wide stretch of distance between the entrance to the rooftop and where Steve is seated on a picnic blanket, spread on top of the grass Tony had had installed to replace the linoleum flooring—something he did to cater to Steve’s love of gardening. The previously sleek, minimalistic, and barren rooftop has been converted into a flourishing garden filled with various plants and flowers of different colors, shapes, and sizes courtesy of Steve’s green thumb. 

Right now, the garden has fairy lights strung all over it. They are hung on the branches of various plants, looping around bushes and flowers, giving off a magical yellow glow that is reminiscent of fireflies.

On the picnic blanket, Steve has prepared multiple layers of fluffy blankets for them to snuggle under, as well as several cushions and pillows. A bottle of wine is sitting in a bucket of ice and a bag filled with takeout from their favorite Italian restaurant is sitting right next to it.

He watches Tony approach him, unabashedly indulging in the sight of him. Tony’s steps are easy and unhurried. Still dressed in a crisp white shirt and black pants, suit jacket slung over his shoulder and red tie loosened haphazardly, he gazes at Steve with a warm smile and a pair of tired eyes—remnants of a long work day. 

Steve’s heart clenches at how much Tony looks like home—Steve’s home. There is nothing he wants more in the world than an armful of Tony right now—his weary eyes, his messy hair, the scrape of his goatee against Steve’s skin. Steve wants all of it.

So when Tony finally reaches him and lies comfortably on the picnic blanket, head nestled in Steve’s lap and legs stretched out, it doesn’t come as a surprise when a knot loosens in his chest, an immediate reaction to Tony’s touch—the ache that only Tony can soothe finally ebbing away. It is as if his heart has decided that this is the way things ought to be—both of them pressed close together, all day, everyday. 

“The garden’s beautiful,” Tony says.

Steve smiles and Tony blinks when Steve’s fingers brush his hair back in slow, sweeping strokes. 

“I had to do something of this caliber, at the very least, to beat the lovely evening you planned for us last week.”

“Why did you cancel the reservation, anyway? You were really excited to go to Romano’s just a few days ago.”

“No special reason. Just didn’t feel like going out and dealing with people after all.” Steve strokes the soft hair of Tony’s right eyebrow absentmindedly. “I want you all to myself tonight.”

A radiant smile blooms on Tony’s face, accentuating all the laugh lines he has accumulated over the years. The glow of the fairy lights is reflected in his eyes, twinkling gold flecks swimming in brown irises.

Tony fakes a scandalous gasp, eyes blinking up at Steve with mischief.

“Are the rumors true, Captain? Is Tony Stark-Rogers your favorite person on earth?”

Steve raises an eyebrow, playing along. “Oh,” he whispers conspiratorially, leaning down to bring their mouths together in a kiss that leaves Tony mesmerized and panting, “Tony Stark-Rogers is my favorite human being in the entire universe.”

He kisses the space between Tony’s eyebrows, chuckling when he sees Tony’s eyes cross as they try to track the movement of Steve’s face leaning in. 

When Steve pulls back, Tony intertwines his fingers with Steve’s, squeezing his hand lightly. Tony lets their joined hands rest atop his chest, on the spot where the arc reactor used to be. The heat of Tony’s skin seeps through his shirt. 

“You’re my favorite person, too, honey bunches.”

They stay like that for a while, relishing the quiet intimacy of each other’s company, the sound of New York City’s busy nightlife accompanying them from way down below. It all sounds far away, though. Up here, everything is tranquil and peaceful, just he and Tony in a world of their own.

“Let’s eat before the food gets cold.” Tony sits up. Immediately, Steve’s thighs feel cold and bereft.

When Tony stretches his limbs, groaning at the release of endorphins in his body, his ankle grazes the sole of Steve’s foot. He startles at the contact, surprised by Steve’s freezing cold skin. 

“You feeling cold, sweetheart?” Tony’s eyebrows crease together in concern. He grabs one of the fleece blankets, wrapping the soft fabric snug around Steve’s cold feet. “I can go down and get you a pair of socks.”

“No, it’s fine. Just a bit chilly,” Steve says, heart warm at how taking care of Steve has become something second nature to Tony. Something done without conscious thought, akin to muscle memory.

Among Tony’s many expressions of love, small gestures during quiet moments like this are the ones Steve cherishes the most. He falls just a little bit deeper in love with Tony, every single time. 

After making sure no part of Steve’s feet are exposed to the cold night air, Tony rummages in the takeout bag. “Which one’s mine?”

“Yours is the carbonara. Mine’s the aglio e olio. There’s garlic bread and caprese salad, too.” 

They wolf down the food with a few glasses of wine, talking about the day they had. Steve grumbles about SHIELD paperwork and a mishap during weapons training. Tony rambles about a promising new deal with a biotech company in Japan that is still in the works. Their work separates the two of them more often than Steve would have liked, and not for the first time, he is immensely glad for the system they have taken years to cultivate: having weekly date nights whenever possible and not being away from each other for more than two weeks at a time. Three, if push comes to shove.

After an anecdote about Happy’s driving antics that has Tony giggling uncontrollably, Steve reaches over to turn on the speaker Tony gave him for his birthday a few years ago. Although Tony has thoughtfully modeled its vintage design after old radios from the forties, the sound it produces is of the highest quality—Tony wouldn’t settle for anything less, of course. 

Steve connects the speaker to his phone before picking something slow and sweet out of a playlist of his favorites, old jazz that reminds him of the neighborhood he grew up in. It is the kind of song he would hear coming out of one of his neighbors’ windows, one that would linger in his head for days afterward. 

A gentle melody on the piano begins and a lady starts to croon sweetly about tender love and foolish hearts.

Turning to Tony, he holds out a hand. “Dance with me?”

With Tony’s hand in his, Steve leads him off the blanket, both of them standing barefoot on the grass. Tony loops his hands around Steve’s neck and Steve settles his hands on Tony’s hips. They begin to sway gently in tune to the music, falling into a companionable silence. When Tony rests his cheek against Steve’s chest, eyes gazing at the skyscrapers in the distance, Steve rests his chin on the crown of Tony’s head, closing his eyes.

Somewhere during the second verse of the next song on Steve’s playlist, Tony says something, breaking Steve’s reverie. He opens his eyes. 

“What?”

“I can hear your heartbeat.”

“Yeah? How does it sound?”

“Steady. It usually lulls me to sleep.” Tony yawns.

“You sleepy, sweetheart?” Steve plants a kiss into Tony’s hair.

A beat, and then:

“A little. But let’s stay like this for a little longer.”

At the end of the fourth song, Tony pulls back from his resting place on Steve’s chest to look up at him. Steve meets his gaze, warmth flooding his chest at the sight of the content smile on Tony’s face.

Maybe it’s New York City’s night air, or the fairy lights illuminating the rooftop, or the sentimental love songs flowing from the speaker, or the way Tony is gazing up at him like there is nowhere else he would rather be, or perhaps even all of those things combined, but the next thing Steve knows, he finds himself saying:

“Do me a favor, sweetheart?”

Tony tilts his head, curiosity bleeding into his eyes.

“Never change. Stay like this forever,” Steve whispers. 

“What? Super sexy and irresistible?”

Steve chuckles, burying his laughter in Tony’s dark locks. He pulls Tony close as he looks up at the night sky.

“Stay like this. Stay mine. Stay with me.” Steve swallows. “Please never get tired of me.”

That gives Tony pause. Steve feels him still, pausing their slow dance. Then Steve feels warm hands cupping his cheeks, bringing his gaze back down to earth, back home, back to Tony.

Something shifts in Tony’s eyes upon catching sight of Steve’s watery eyes.

“Hey, what brought this on?” Tony asks, voice uncharacteristically gentle. 

Steve sniffs, laughing sheepishly, a little embarrassed at being so sentimental.

“Nothing, I’m just—” Steve takes a deep breath, tightening his hold around Tony. “Just really grateful for you.”

Tony’s thumbs sweep his eyelids gently, wiping his tears away.

“Hey, look at me.”

When Steve opens his eyes, lovely brown eyes are staring right at him. 

“I don’t know about staying like this forever, sweetheart. I mean, I know I look absolutely ravishing right now, but you know I already have a few wrinkles and some white hair here and there.”

Steve rolls his eyes. As if those would ever render Tony less beautiful in his eyes. He even has a not-so-secret partiality for Tony’s salt-and-pepper hair—something Tony still finds difficult to believe.

“But! You have my word that you are, quite unfortunately, stuck with me for the rest of your life. I’m sorry, darling, but I did warn you that marrying Tony Stark comes with a no-return policy.”

Steve laughs even as he feels something glow incandescent within him, brighter and warmer than the sun on a hot summer day. 

“In fact, I’m more afraid of you getting tired of me. In a few years, there will be more wrinkles, more white hair, and who knows? Maybe I’ll even go bald. My skin’s going to get all saggy and disgusting and then—”

Steve leans in to press his lips against Tony’s, one of the tried-and-true methods to effectively shut him up. 

When he leans back, it is to glare at Tony.

“Don’t you ever use the word ‘disgusting’ to refer to my husband.”

Tony blinks. “Not even to say disgustingly attractive?”

Steve’s lips twitch. “Okay, maybe that one’s acceptable.”

Tony smiles smugly. Then he narrows his eyes. “But I’m serious, Steven. You better prepare yourself for my deteriorating beauty. It is not going to be pretty, I’m—”

Steve pushes Tony’s face back into his chest so the rest of his passionate tirade comes out all garbled and muffled. 

“I’ll love you forever. Wrinkles, white hair, saggy skin, and all.”

“Don’t forget the balding—”

“I will love you even if there isn’t a single strand of hair on your head.”

Tony stills. 

“You’d better,” he says, voice still muffled, poking a finger into Steve’s side in warning.

Steve’s hand reaches down to find the accusing finger. Ever so gently, he splays the rest of Tony’s fingers apart to interlock them with his own as he plants a kiss on Tony’s temple. 

“I promise, sweetheart.”

#stevetony #stevetony fic #stony #stony fic #superhusbands #steve/tony #steve x tony #mine #earl wrote something #earl answers #anonymous

[readerinsertfanfiction]

Nemo, I would like to request a Faun!Keiji from you. What you want to write with it I will leave up to you as long as it's not angsty ^^ I hope this is gonna be fun. Love ya and thanks *heart emoji*

Oooh, Faun!Keiji, that actually suits him so stupidly well. Or what I have come to know about this dude. 

No angst for Mama! 💖💖💖

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku

Character: Keiji Maeda

Prompt: Fantasy AU!

A/N: I tried a new style here, a mixture of an unreliable narrator in the first pov and what I tried before with the God!Shingen story. Enjoy! 

Where there are old things there are stories to tell, the imagining of the youth of a tree that was struck by lightning and thought to be dead only to grow branches once more, or what of one bearing fruits in strange forms? Even by giving an object a name it is enough to give power to the tales shared and to be immortalised through tell from old to young. This story is no different, what with the belief that once the legends lived amongst us, only to be forgotten.

Let this be a cautionary tale, that not all are what it may seem. I was a mere child when it happened and even then I’m not sure what had happened and if it had been real. After all, the imagination of a child is a wild one and their fantasies endless. This doesn’t change much when one is a writer, for the borders between reality and fantasy seem to blur, just as their sources of inspiration come from the littlest things. Alas, let me continue my story of how I met a certain faun.

A faun, yes. To get to the point. Half man, half a goat. Mischievous creatures, truly, but captivating and charming despite the hairy stocky legs on which they stand upon. I’m quite undecided whether it is the music following them, or them following the music that makes them so amicable to the crowd, but that’s all I seem to remember clearly. The music that they played and they joined and danced to. And that is another thing about an artisan, for musicians are the same as authors, just as artists tend to be; alive in their heads and their dreams without a distinction of their own reality or where it starts and blurs.

It was this music that the young me heard one sunny day in which I found myself lost in the forest desperate to look for some twigs to burn in the fire. The adults often told us not to wander off too deeply into the treacherous dense tree mass, but when the days are pleasant and the berries numerous and the village dull, one seems to have an affinity for finding trouble. Added to it was the pleasant tune so cheerfully played that it could not be anything else but a little party and one quickly forgets caution in exchange for excitement.

Now quickly, just to add, I was not alone, certainly not. We children are always braver in a group, just like adults tend to be at their worst together. Just like you dear spectator, we are not much different despite our ages apart after all. But if you ask any of the cowards I called friends then today they would deny it. They will speak of a wandering vagabond who happened to play us a pretty tune instead, but they have not seen the hooves as I have. Yes, hooves in place of feet, how curious, isn’t?

So the day was sunny, with the berries sprouting freshly on the bushes we passed as we were gathering firewood in the forest and there he sat. A handsome lad near that big old tree we have today, but back then it was still a young sapling amongst many. Panflute in hands and a pretty tune to follow out of it. Captivating, trance-like for we couldn’t help but feel ourselves pulled by the sound and gather around the lad and it was only when we gathered around him that he stopped playing, as if he wanted us to be around.

Now, children, please remember that if a stranger in the forest ever asks you a question you’re best off not answering it with the truth. These mischievous creatures have a way around words and turning it against you. Don’t make promises and never give your name, or ask them for a favour or even express gratitude, for a debt to one of these creatures is a debt to the forest.

“What are you doing?” I asked, fairly innocent still and suspecting nothing yet.

“Growing the tree,” the faun had answered, now still a man in our eyes, for they have a way of hiding their legs, or at least to distract us from them. His answer most certainly did, for who had heard of growing a tree through song? Isn’t it always through the sun and water? We asked him that as well, but he refused to answer, perhaps because he knew that it involved a secret of nature and one does not share those secrets openly with strangers. Not when they use the trees to burn their fires and build their houses with. Not when whole forests disappear just like this disappeared leaving only this special tree underneath which I tell you the story.

Of course we were quite confused by this stranger. He had strange manners and sang foreign songs, but they captivated us, pulled us in. For little village children for whom the world was no larger than the borders of the village and some trees into the forest we didn’t know better than that to be our world. But the faun he had travelled and through song he would tell us. At first out of free will, giving us a sample of the dozens of stories he had to tell. For one must understand that for all their mischief these creatures are unable to lie. Later on, it came with little favours. Pieces of bread, some paper, new strings for his lute and eventually…

“How do we go on the same adventures as you?” We had asked him this to which the faun only had one answer:

“Follow me.”

And so we did. Or at least, the bravest of us did as some made excuses stating that our parents wouldn’t like that. Others had other reasons. Such as chores undone, or promises made to visit grandparents and the likes. He allowed those to leave, for the faun valued such obligations above anything else.

“If you want to see the world you will have to step out. If you want more you can live like me, just come out and join!”

In hindsight the trick is always obvious. But we didn’t know the rules of the game yet, or how these creatures tricked us into promises we could not get out of. None of us children realised other than that we knew we were bored of our little village and longed for an adventure outside. You can imagine what answer came from that boredom and what consequences there were.

With another song he led us away and on that we went on our greatest adventure. I met the elves, who are even trickier and may steal your name, but our faun protected us well from them. Though he did allow us some elvenbread. For it is said that elvenbread increases the lifespan so greatly you may be mistaken as immortal. It is the secret of their long lives and as children we wished for our days to extend forever. But there was another secret to the bread and the faun made us promise never to break that vow.

And there were also fairies who will hold onto a grudge for longer than a human lifetime if you don’t treat them or their flowers well. Remember, always be kind to flowers even when they’re not blooming, for there is something tending to them, just like the fruits they bear, or the dragonflies we see on the water on a hot summer day. Our faun protected us once more from these creatures, teaching us how to be kind to all what surrounds us and how song could help grow a sapling into a sturdy tree. By the time we were done exploring and had to return home it felt like decades had passed, though our hearts remained the same.

The adults said so as well when they finally managed to wake us up underneath this tree that had moved on from the sapling it started to be. Our appearances were still youthful, as if no day had passed and the faun had disappeared, but our souls had grown richer and more knowledgeable with all these wonders still lingering in our minds like a beautiful dream. And a dream it was indeed, for soon after many of us started to forget, thinking that it was indeed just a dream we happened to share. And the older we got the more we forgot. We forgot how to be kind, we forgot the elvenbread we had shared, we even cut down the trees that gave us shelter in our youths making room for more of us. We had forgotten what it was like to dream and to imagine and to maintain our youth.

The silence that fell after the story was an awkward one, the children staring at the now ancient tree rather uncomfortably before turning their eyes at the storyteller. “So, how old is this tree? And how old does that make you?”

You laugh at the honest question posed, looking up at the tree towering over you as you shrug. “Lost count, I suppose,” was your answer and none could make out if that was a joke, or the truth.

“And what happened to the faun, and the fairies and the elves?” This question was expected and once more you smiled as you looked up at the crown of the tree, lush and green, offering shelter and shade on this hot sunny day.

“Wandering around, growing trees,” you smiled widely at the unsatisfied faces of the children before you pushed yourself up, a deep breath escaping you, the simple move not so simple anymore as you gestured for one of the children to help you up. “I suppose,” you grunted, “he is still looking for some children to share the elvenbread with.”

With another wink you’re finally on your legs, the cane helping you along as a third leg to support yourself as you move on, ignoring the numerous questions the children had for you. If you remained to answer all, you would indeed stay underneath the tree for another eternity.

“A handsome young lad? Really?” a mischievous voice comes for you, and you chuckle at the flamboyant presence nearing into you, offering an arm in support. Red wild hair and a sunny smile beamed at you in a familiar way you had never forgotten, just like promised.

“Why so? I’m only faithfully relaying the account of my youth and what I perceived to be true,” came your answer as you leaned against the extended arm, grateful for the steady support it gave you.

“Ah, and I imagine that there is no bias involved?” Another tease and you pinch the arm you hold, earning a yelp from the man that had come to pick you up and return you to your little hut, the morning soon to be over just as story time had come to an end in the village.

“Most certainly, only a truth for I quite like what I see now as well.” This earned a blush from the man, who for some reason was not as accustomed to the compliments of man even after all these years.

“Will you tell us another story tomorrow?” one of the children piped up, catching up to the two of you with curious eyes and excitement written on their faces. You could only nod, glad for their enthusiasm as you pointed at the tree behind.

“Same place, same time?” you rang the question that had been asked of you all these years before and that satisfied them, little fists bumping into the air as they ran off in a flurry of giggles. Only one remained, a pensive young child that didn’t seem quite satisfied, but perhaps just a little too shy to ask what they wanted.

“Yes?” you encouraged them and the child looks down at the ground, their eyes roaming over the soil as if the answer could be found there.

“What’s the faun’s name?” they finally ask and your smile grows wider as you shake your head.

“That I cannot tell, you will have to ask him yourself.” Your answer was as mysterious as it was suggestive, a twinkle in your eye as you continued your way, leaving the child alone who stared after you and your chaperone in confusion.

Had the child paid attention to the footprints instead they would have noticed that there was only one pair of human feet, the other being hooves instead.

#ikesen keiji #ikemen sengoku keiji #ikemen keiji #ikesen #ikemen sengoku #ikemen sengoku x reader #ikesen x reader

[adiabolikpastel]

Title: Lunar Eclipse Masquerade

Shu pt. 3

Rating: PG

Word Count: 1,587

Pairing: Shu x Callista (mxf)

ღ Neither Shu nor Callista are thrilled about this arrangement. However, they may just need to bite the bullet. ღ

Mun Yu: We did it! These are the last pieces of the LEM story. The end to our Lunar Eclipse. I hope that you have enjoyed the ride, and gotten to know the stories on this blog better! Tune in at the end of it all for Authors Notes!

☆+ ﾟ .+ .ﾟ.ﾟ｡ ﾟ ｡. +ﾟ ｡ﾟ.ﾟ｡☆*｡｡ . ｡ o .｡ﾟ｡.o｡* ｡ .｡

Despite what most people think, demonic beings are very social creatures. The elites hold countless balls and parties, celebrating their immortality together, and entertaining one another with stories. Typically, they are done in celebration for something – though this is not always the case. All types of beings from across the Demon Realm will come if the host is of high enough prestige.

There would be no such host if it was not for Karlheinz. Seated as the head of the Bat Clan (vampires), Karl’s reach spans far. Being the widow for the former Demon King’s daughter, and having children of the first blood, an invitation from the Vampire King is not one to refuse. Though why would you? In his immaculate castle within the Demon Realm, Eden Castle, it is always quite the spectacle. While the celebrations held in his Human World mansion are nice, nothing compares to a true night of pleasure within the true home of the King.

On this night, there was to be a Masquerade in honor of the first Lunar Eclipsed Moon in over two years. While this night may serve each species differently, the idea to celebrate its return was simply too tempting. For this reason, Karlheinz took it upon himself – or rather – his house, to host the event. This extended to his offspring as well, regardless of their personal agenda. Members of every social elite race accepted the offer, and gathered for a truly unforgettable evening

The two walked along side one another through the gardens of Eden Castle. They were in full bloom – though Shu could not remember a time when they were not. His mother once told him that the gardens of this castle were only like this because of Karlheinz. The magnitude of his father’s power was truly incomprehensible. The pure amount of energy it took to, not only, preform magic, but to then have spells on consent – without being affected – that was on a level that Shu could only dream of reaching.

Callista couldn’t help but fell awkward about her current situation. This entire scheme was only presented to her days ago, and she had thought her father was going to turn the Vampire King down. Then again, perhaps he was put into a position in which he couldn’t refuse. Even so, she had thought her father was adamant on her rejecting this union.

However, when he came to her just moments ago, he seemed… different. As if his entire outlook on the idea had changed. No matter what she tried to say in protest, he simply dismissed her words. Her father simply kept saying that this was the best match for her. That through this marriage she would be taken care of. Well, despite what he said, Callista was more than happy staying forever with her parents.

Being able to stay with her younger brothers, tutoring them in their studies, working towards being a teacher herself – that was the life she wanted. Not to be married off like all her sisters. Well, not all of them – but still – she was not in love with this idea. It was obvious that her husband to be was not either.

“… The flowers here are lovely.” She broke their silence, hoping to be able to start a dialog with him. To no avail, it would seem. He simply walked on, leading her further away from the Castle. Just what was he planning? Surely he wouldn’t take a lady so far out alone. What if someone saw them as such without an escort? “Lord Ririe, perhaps we better go back? What would people say, seeing us two alone like this?”

Shu had planned on taking her far enough away so that he could possibly enjoy a taste of her blood. That would surely send this ‘innocent’ woman a lesson. However, that all seemed like such great effort now. She brought up a point about people seeing them – it would be annoying if they started to talk. Especially if Reiji found out. He’d never hear the end of it.

Instead, he walks over to the fountain, sitting on the walls that surrounded the water flowing inside. Shu let’s out a yawn, and removes his mask, letting it fall into the gathered liquid. Then, without any explanation, he brought himself down, and settled in to take a nap. This night had been nothing but exhausting. He could use a small nap.

Calli watched as the vampire laid himself down onto the fountain. What? Why was he doing that? Didn’t he care if his cloths got wet? What about catching a cold. “Lord Ririe, you shouldn’t lie there.” She looks around to see if anyone was watching them. A few scattered guest were about, but none paying them any attention.

“… Noisy… Let me sleep.” Shu mumbled, trying his best to focus on the calming sounds of the water. He wasn’t able to bring his headphone, which normally helped cancel out all the noise around him. Perhaps that had something to do with his panic earlier.

Unknowing how to handle this situation, Callista did what she would do if this were one of her brothers. “Very well then, if you insist on being difficult –" She wanders off to admire some of the new by flower bushes. If he was going to be rude and sleep, she would have some fun. After examining a few different types, Calli picks a couple of the blossoms.

With her arms full, she returns to the fountain, sitting next to her escorts head. With some hums, she beings twisting the stems into one another. Shu could hear the soft melody through the drops of water. He knew the tune she was humming, “… novice …” He says smirking softly. The familiar music was clearly Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata.

“Is it now? I happen to think it fits this night well enough.” Callista responds, smiling softly. She continues to craft her mixture of flowers. “Seems you are cultured to some degree, calling me a novice. That must mean you know more advanced pieces?”

Shu did not respond, instead he settled into his position. There was no point in having a conversation with her. Perhaps if he simply slept, she would go tell her father, and he would be finished with this mess. Just as he was thinking, he felt something slide onto his head. Followed by a small giggle.

“Haha… These flowers suite you, Lord Ririe. We almost match now~” Callista muses touching the feathers that were strung through her own hair. She waited for him to say something. Anything.

Silence.

With a small sigh, Calli looks up to the moon. “… I did not choose this either. If it were up to me, I would prefer a life like my sister. She has no husband, and travels the realms as she pleases.” She twirls one of her feathers. “That is the life I always wanted, as most of my kind do. It’s not like us to be caged in one place. Yet here I am… being given away. Doesn’t seem fair.”

Shu could understand her plight. After all, getting away was something he tried to do his entire life. “… There is no escape.” With a light grunt, Shu lifted himself up. The cement wasn’t comfortable anyway. “That bastard does as he pleases. Until he is defeated – there will be no way out.” This revelation was more for himself than for her. He understood that if he ever wanted to be free from all of this – there was no other option.

While it would be hard work, Shu had no choice but to ascend to the throne. None of his brother had what it took – hell, he barely did. However, it was the only way to be free. “For now… you will have to stay by my side. Until the day comes when I can free us both.” Shu looked at his fellow demon. Neither of them wanted this, however, they were without another option.

Calli was unsure about trusting this man. Not only had she just met him, but was he truly capable of besting the strongest demon known in the realm? “I suppose there is no other option.” She stands from the fountain’s wall. “I will be in your care then, Lord Ririe. Until we are both free of these obligations.” She offers him her hand, to shake on their agreement.

Shu sighs, scratching his head. “Drop the, ‘Lord Ririe’.” He lazily moves his hand into her extended palm. “It’s Shu.”

“I wouldn’t dare call my intended so formally.” She blushes slightly. “Shu-san then, will that do?”

Shu smirks slightly, “You could always sell it and call me Darling.” Callista’s face glowed in the darkness from his taunt. Just because their agreement was temporary, didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy her while it lasted.

“Th-That is hardly appropriate.” She stammers. Moving to settle herself, Calli looks back towards the Castle. “In any case… the night is almost finished. Perhaps we could being our façade with a dance? I have waited all evening for one.”

Shu looked towards the Castle as well. Just moments ago he had been set on leaving. Giving up on Reiji’s crackpot idea. Content to a life spent on the run from his father. Now. Now there was a bit of hope. Perhaps with an alley like this woman, he could best his father.

“Very well…” Shu stands and offer’s his arm to her. “Only one… unless you want to be my pillow for tonight.” He comments looking down at her breast. Damn they looked soft. For a moment he thought of forcing her to take him up on the idea.

“My goodness, perhaps I mistook you for a gentlemen. You’re words are quite something.” She did her best to brush off his comments. As fake partners go, Shu wasn’t hideous. In fact, Calli found his blonde hair and deep blue eyes attractive. There was something to be said about the beauty of the Bat Clan.

Callista laced her arm with Shu’s, the two heading back into the Castle. There were less guest then before. She could see her father laughing loudly with a group, good to see he was in high spirits. As the two of them made their way to the dance floor, a familiar tune began to play.

“Heh, this must be some kind of joke.” Shu comments, moving one of his hands to rest on Callista’s waist. “Remind me to remove this song from my collection.”

She giggles, it must be in fates design that the two of them find one another in this moment. Calli moves so her back is to Shu, extending her opposite hand of his. “Now don’t be so harsh, as I said, this melody suites the night.” She smiles back at her partner.

Unknown to the future, but sure now of their intertwined fate. Shu places his hand under her extended one. “Perhaps you are right.”

☆+ ﾟ .+ .ﾟ.ﾟ｡ ﾟ ｡. +ﾟ ｡ﾟ.ﾟ｡ ROUTE END ☆*｡｡ . ｡ o .｡ﾟ｡.o｡* ｡ .｡

#writing #Lunar Eclipse Masquerade #LEM

[derireo]

Let’s Talk Feelings (SKY)

A series where Izumi gets confessed to five times.

Sakyo ↦ My Childhood Sweetheart

Reminiscing can be really fun.

But past and present feelings resurface, and someone's on the verge of breaking.

warnings: pining.

「 read here on ao3 」   「 2k words 」         TK. IT. TSM. OM.

He... really couldn't bring himself to get mad at Izumi.

Sure, there are times where she is overbearing and very stress inducing, but Sakyo just can't bear the thought of genuinely getting mad at her.

Yes, he raises his voice at her, yes, he glares at her, yes, he manhandles her, but.. Izumi takes every single jab in stride as if every action he took to push her away had gone unnoticed.

It was impressive, but it made Sakyo helpless and put him at her mercy to the ridiculous whims she concocted in that pretty little head of hers.

It's almost like she never grew out of being that little girl he took care of when they were younger.

"You lookin' for a death wish?" Sakyo had griped one day, trapping both of Izumi's wrists in one hand while he pinned her against the sofa.

Damn... and here she was smiling up at him again, arms pressed into her chest by Sakyo as she casually sunk further into the sofa, humming a soft tune. "Not intentionally."

Her voice was calm and had a hint of mirth, something that made Sakyo petulantly jut his lip to the side. She wiggled her fingers at him due to being held immobile and rested her cheek against the back of the sofa, eyes soft.

The look she gave him was one that had his heart rattling in his chest like someone shaking a cage and it caused his vision to lose focus for a short second.

"I'm trying to work." He said, calm as he could, and met her gaze with his. "Just 'cause I let you sit with me doesn't mean you can start poking my face."

He squeezed his hand around her wrists a little tighter to emphasize that he found it annoying (not really, but like. she can't get away with everything).

Izumi's smile was replaced by a mock pout and she scooted closer to Sakyo on the couch as much as she could with her hands restricted by him.

Inching closer and closer until the side of their thighs touched, Izumi was slowly making Sakyo spiral as he had no idea what she was trying to do.

"I was reminded of when you'd let me poke your moles when we were younger." She confessed to him, turning her body in his direction while gently wringing her wrists in his grip with a proper pout now.

Let me go! Her face said... how cute.

"But now you won't let me poke them?" She was exasperated at this point when Sakyo still didn't release her from his hold and she helplessly leaned against him, putting all her weight into his side just enough to make him complain.

"What are you– Tachibana, quit it." He hissed in annoyance and part panic when he realised how close she was getting. She was pressing against him incessantly, trying to knock him over just for kicks, but all Sakyo could think about was how her slender body was arching against him as she did all that.

He felt that he might just cry if she kept this up.

Sakyo really– he struggled to keep his emotions at bay when it came to Izumi, and she somehow always, always managed to throw him off his rhythm.

Her sweet smile was a permanent image that was showcased in his mind like an extravagant painting, and her voice was the lullaby that he replayed in his head to go to sleep.

He's like a fiddle to Izumi, playing and toying around with him as she pleases. It's almost painful; willingly putting up with this girl, but he wouldn't have it any other way and—

"Kyokkun." A voice whispered.

Sakyo's mind stopped running. Instead, it began to shut down.

Watching with wide eyes how Sakyo's soul seemed to be leaving his body, Izumi gently shook her wrists in his grasp to catch his attention, but to no avail. "Oh my God. Don't tell me you're fainting."

"I think I've passed on."

"Are you kiddi– at least let me go if you're going to die." Izumi complained with a laugh. And dear, was it a sight to see.

The corners of her eyes were crinkled and her cute little nose was scrunched up, and slowly, slowly did it feel like Sakyo was falling in love with her again.

Her happiness made his heart soar and to think it was him who made her look like that was incomprehensible. Years of thinking that he wasn't worthy enough for her; too in his head about how a man with a past like him didn't stand a chance with someone like her.

But as time went by after meeting her again on that fateful day, he felt that maybe– just maybe did he hold a candle to her.

Suddenly, with all the courage that he was able to muster, Sakyo released her wrists from his grip to slide her onto his lap with firm and commanding hands.

"Izumi.." He gulped audibly, noticing just how close he'd managed to get with her while she braced her hands on either side of his head against the couch, her eyes wide with shock. She was half straddling him, her chest at the same level as his eyes while his own hands curved around her hips in a vice grip. "I think I'm in love with you."

And uttering those words felt like a huge waterfall had just crashed down on him; felt like an impenetrable dam had caved in and let all of his emotions fall out with just those seven words.

To Izumi, it felt like the breath in her lungs was being sucked out when her breath caught in her throat and his face contorted into something akin to pain and longing.

Anticipation to be rejected and tossed aside.

"Love..?" She echoed, confused. Never would Izumi have thought that Sakyo would be in love with her of all people. She was the complete opposite of him; outgoing, warm, ditzy... and Sakyo loved her? It was almost way too ridiculous to believe, but if he wasn't telling the truth then the man wouldn't have even said anything in the first place.

"..You love me."

Her frown was evident and it showed how unsure she was about the fact. It made Sakyo's stomach drop knowing that it looked like she didn't believe him at all but he couldn't blame her when all he he has ever done was berate her and show his indifference when he felt his feelings for her running rampant inside his head.

He removed his hands from Izumi's hips to hold her by the crook of her elbows. "You don't have to say anything else." Sakyo muttered, feeling his cheeks grow hot. Gently, he eased the woman to sit comfortably in his lap, counting up to ten in his head to help himself relieve the stress that was building up.

He didn't expect anything to come out of his confession, really, but.. there was still that flicker of hope inside of him that imagined she would've reacted wonderfully to his words. Of course, that just wasn't the case. He had to be realistic here. God, he couldn't even look her in the eyes anymore.

Izumi nodded much to the relief of Sakyo and settled herself atop his thighs, lip tucked between her teeth as she looked for the right words to say. Or the right topic to segue in.

Awkwardly, Izumi placed her hands upon Sakyo's shoulders. It was her turn to avoid his gaze as she found herself seated in the man's lap, but she did her best to make sure their eyes met while she made a request.

"..can I still call you Kyokkun?"

It wasn't a huge thing to ask, but knowing Sakyo, he could easily say no without batting an eyelash. So it was a surprise, really, when he pursed his lips and gave a reluctant nod. "But only when it's just the two of us."

And with that, Sakyo made the action to remove the woman in his lap to stand up from the couch.

Izumi panicked.

"J-Just give me some time!" Izumi floundered about until her hands found Sakyo's biceps to pin him back against the sofa, eyes wide with alarm. She didn't know why, but she didn't want Sakyo to leave her just yet.

...Well, he wasn't really leaving, was just going to head to his room to clear his mind, but Izumi– Izumi didn't want him to go. Please don't go.

It was her turn for her mind to start racing as she tried to come up with something to say to make Sakyo stay. The words that left her mouth was nothing she expected to ever voice though, and before she knew it she was already doing something similar to a confession.

"Because I think I like you too." She said, voice just above a whisper.

The vulnerability in her tone made Sakyo pause the thoughts that were playing in his brain and he snapped his head to properly look at Izumi, his lips parted in shock.

"I just need some time to think about things," she tacked on quickly, pupils shaking as she stared down at turtleneck clad throat, "and then I'll get back to you, okay?"

Izumi was grimacing at the words she rattled out and felt her fingers twitching anxiously against Sakyo's arms. Never had she once considered her feelings for Sakyo, deeming it an unrequited or impossible love from the start. This prevented anything from blooming within her, but she knew there was some sort of affinity between them.. she just couldn't put her finger on whether it was a platonic or romantic kind of attraction.

Expressing her emotions like this felt foreign to her, but if it was Sakyo who was listening... she felt like she didn't mind it all too much.

"...I'm sorry." Izumi exhaled. "I couldn't let you leave without an answer. You deserve that at the very least." Her hands were unsure of themselves as they gave Sakyo's chest a little pat and she nodded her head in reassurance for herself, mouth set into a thin line.

She continued to stare at the man's throat because she was too scared that she'd feel something if their eyes met, and she wasn't sure if she was ready to handle the avalanche of emotions that would come with realizing that maybe she really did like Sakyo. Possibly even love.

For how long have they pined after each other without knowing? Without saying anything? And now that they're taking the chance to do something about it, all they were doing was beating around the bush. Nothing like a 'no', or 'yes'. Just a 'maybe' and an 'I don't know'.

Sakyo didn't want press any further for fear that he would put Izumi in an even more uncomfortable situation.

"It's okay." He whispered, not at all taking to the heart the way she didn't even try to look at his face anymore. Instead, she opted to lean into his chest and curl her arms around his neck in a tight hug, hiding her face against his jaw with a trembling exhale of breath.

With a tired sigh Sakyo rubbed her back with his palm while hooking an arm beneath her bottom as he stood up from the couch, holding the woman in his arms. He held her the same way he did when they were younger.

"I'm not letting go, Umichan." He reassured her when she clung onto him with desperate limbs, delicately petting the back of her head as his feet lead him down the hallway towards Izumi's room.

The resurface of his old nickname for her made Izumi weakly chuckle into his neck and she tightened her hold on him. There was a sudden fuzzy feeling of warmth that took over her.

The sound of his voice saying that nickname of hers replayed over and over, and it gave Izumi the courage to request one more thing.

"...Can we cuddle in my room? Like when we were kids?"

Sakyo cleared his throat.

"Okay."

#a3! #a3! act! addict! actors! #sakyo furuichi #izumi tachibana #sakyoizu #a3! fic #a3! scenarios

[x-reader-theater]

My Days Are Numbered, but so Are Yours {5}

Relationship: Geralt of Rivia X Male!Disabled!Reader

Summary: Triss meets Ciri and Geralt, not for the first time. 

Warnings: Cursing, Graphic Depictions of Violence

Word Count: 1844 words

A/N: Hello everyone! How are you today? Are you ready for another chapter? I sure am! Once again I am going to thank my lovely beta writer @mystic-writes​ for all their help. We have some new and exciting things planned so stay tuned... Please like, comment, and please, please reblog. I’m on my knees here man. Please reblog. Please.  Now, without further ado,  My Days Are Numbered, but so Are Yours chapter 5.

Take a Chance for the Nights are Short (Book 1) [1]

Hold me Tight for the Days are Long (Book 2) [2]

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10]

Chapter 5: Every Situation gets Worse when Wolves are Involved

You're outside the next morning, picking the dead leaves and some of the bloomed flowers from your plants outside your cottage. The Fool's Parsley that stands the tallest on the right side of the door are shedding a few of their old leaves. You gather them to bake over a fire and toss into a salad. You pick a few of the blooming flowers on your honeysuckle plant that are in the same bed as your Fool's Parsley, planning to make them into a sickeningly sweet syrup. You can't use it for as many things as you can honey, but it does soothe the throat and stomach of all those it touches, provided it touches the spot needing to be soothed. On the left side, small bushes with Arenaria flowers sit squat, the white blooms reflecting the sunlight back. Those are good for upset stomachs, especially if one's feeling nauseous. You don't remember how many times you had to give a concoction of Arenaria flowers and Honeysuckle syrup to Jaskier. Joining the Arenaria on the left side are your bushes of Wolfsbane. You pick a few of the flowers, the ones that aren't as fresh anymore. You use them for your topical medicine, the one your mother taught you how to make. With Geralt using the last of your supply, you have to make more in case something happens.

Looking out you see a few Celandine bushes, the bright yellow against the dark green of the bush. There are a few Moleyarrow flowers here and there. You didn't like to pick them too much. They were much too pretty for that. Some dandelions and blowballs are also scattered about, here and there. You liked to pick them on sunny days, and turn the stalks into a dish. You would roast the stalks with salt and pepper, and some Sewent Mushrooms that Triss would always bring for you. 

There is something nice to say about Triss. She knows how to give a gift. Her food related gifts were the only ones you'd take from her anyway. 

You're collecting a few honeysuckle from your bushes when you hear the grass crunch beneath someone's feet. You desperately needed rain to grace your small clearing. Your plants have been feeling it too, their leaves turning brown and flaking off. Maybe you'd talk to Triss' about it. 

Speaking of, as you stand and turn, you see Triss standing there, in her blue robe, the hood pulled up around her head. She reaches up and drops it, revealing a head of curly, dark brown hair.

"Triss," you say simply, holding onto the box you place your honeysuckle in. 

"[Y/N]. You're looking less grumpy than usual," she says with a wry smile. You almost smile back. 

You gesture toward the house with your head. "Yes well, that's because I have guests." 

"Guests?" Triss asks, genuinely confused. "What guests?"

"[Y/N]! [Y/N]!" You hear from inside the house. "You need to see what-" 

The door slams open and Ciri comes barging out, stopping herself as she sees Triss standing there, staring at her. 

"Triss?" 

"Ciri!" 

Triss and Ciri run up to each other, embracing each other in a large hug. 

Triss pulls back and places her hands on the side of Ciri's face. She smiles. "You've grown." 

Ciri rolls her eyes. "No I haven't. You don't grow much after the age of… well like 15." Ciri shrugs. "I'm still the same old Ciri you knew five years ago." 

Triss frowns and furrows her brows. "Except with a few new scars…" 

Ciri reaches up and touches right underneath her left eye, where a jagged, red scar mars her face. She smiles, presumably thinking, before shaking her head and furrowing her brows to mirror Triss'. "What are you doing here?" 

Triss' face softens and she looks over at you, gesturing. "Someone has to keep the old man alive." 

You grunt and roll your shoulders. Your grip on your baskets' handle is so tight the wicker is groaning underneath your fist. "I can take care of myself." 

Triss nods. "I'm sure you can, but would you be happy without anyone to talk to?" 

"I'd be happier if you never came back…" you mutter to yourself. 

Triss leans over to Ciri and whispers, "He's just being grumpy. He loves me." 

You roll your eyes but don't refute it. Silence luls over your small group as you take in each other's company, all thinking about something different. You can only begin to speculate about what, at least for the other two. Your mind on the other hand is racing, trying to think if Triss ever mentioned Ciri. You can't recall a time when she did. 

You move to leave them alone, give them their privacy, set your basket down and sit somewhere. Your knees are starting to hurt. But the door opens and Geralt steps out before you can leave. Then Triss and Geralt make eye contact, whatever colour that was left in his face quickly disappears. 

"Triss?" Geralt asks, shocked. 

"Geralt." Triss almost sounds relieved. "It's good to see you again." 

Geralt nods and grunts in agreement. Or maybe it was dismissal. You've lost your ability to tell. 

You feel the hairs on your neck stand on end, a cold chill runs up your spine, and you freeze. The temperature of the air around you drops and you watch as, from the forest line, the green grass turns blue from a spreading frost. Geralt, Ciri, and Triss all look toward the forest, and you follow their sighline. 

Walking out of it is a stone hound. Its eyes are blue, bluer than the sky on a cloudless day, and frost rolls off its hide like a waterfall mists when it hits stone and is cast into the air. Its teeth are bared. Its shoulders are hunched forward. You can’t see its teeth from here, but you can only imagine they’re sharper than icicles in winter.

You look towards the others, whose eyes are wide with shock. "This can't be possible…" Ciri says quietly, almost as if to herself. 

"No, no, no!" Geralt exclaims, looking over at the two women in shock. 

"How is this happening?" Triss mutters, her fists clenched. They're starting to turn a bit red, as if she's preparing to throw a fireball at any minute. 

You look around at all of them, panicked. "What? What's wrong!" You ask, worried. 

Geralt turns to you. "The Wild Hunt." 

"The what?" You ask, confused. You know you've read about them before, but beyond knowing they exist, you've got nothing. You're drawing a blank. 

Ciri turns toward the cottage and says, "I'll explain later!” 

Three more wolves step out of the woods. 

Triss waves one of her hands above her head, muttering something to herself, and your basket of flowers is replaced with a copy of your silver sword. You know it's a copy because the weight is slightly too high on the blade. Even after all these years of not using it, you still know the weight of it in your hand like you held it yesterday. Many things are lost to time, but this is not one of them. 

Geralt and Ciri also now have copies of their swords in their hands. You watch as they balance the weight in their palms before grabbing onto them at the same time and readying their stances. 

You do the same as the wolves come bounding up, one to each of you. The wolf in front of you leaps into the air, its maw wide, saliva dripping from its' fangs, the droplets freezing before they even hit the ground. You're surprised by the strength of the creature as it bounds into you, knocking you off your feet. Its teeth latch onto your sword, but you manage to pull it free as you roll back and onto the balls of your feet, standing up in a ready position. 

The wolf circles you, snapping its jaw, sizing you up. Your eyes narrow, it backs up, and jumps into the air, lunging at you, maw wide, begging for a taste of your flesh. You swing your sword as it flies toward you. You strike it in the side, and while the hit didn't seem like it did much damage, the wolf flies off into the dirt. 

You rush up to it and hack away for as long as you can, but the wolf just gets back up. 

You jump up and away as it lashes out with its claws, missing you by an inch. It rolls onto its feet and starts moving toward you. You back up with each step it takes, but sooner or later it's going to jump at you, and you'll either hit it, or it will hit you. 

Luckily, you don't have to worry about that. Geralt runs up and hits it with his Igni sign, and the wolf is set ablaze. You thrust out with your sword just as Geralt does, and the wolf slumps over, dead. 

You give him a nod of thanks, and he nods back. You still know how to fight, but it's different with only one arm. You'll take all the help you can get. 

You look over and see Triss helping Ciri with her wolf as well. You look back to Geralt, who's glancing nervously at the forest, waiting for something else to happen. He doesn't have to wait long, as two more ice-wolves come darting out of the trees. You ready your stance next to Geralt, your shoulders barely brushing, as one of the wolves bounds up to you. Geralt swings up with his sword in a wide arch, hitting the underside of the wolf's jaw. You strike out as well, but your sword just glances off its' stone hide. 

The wolf rolls onto its feet and starts circling the two of you. You place your back against Geralt's. The wolf growls, frozen spittle shooting into the soft grass. The wolf disappears behind you, and you feel Geralt push back against you. You take a step forward and turn around, facing the icy wolf. 

Geralt lunges out, striking the wolf as you lash out and hit the beast as well. You lift your sword up as Geralt does, and you both strike down. Your swords cut through the rock, into the neck of the beast. Your swords cut clean through, and the wolf falls to the ground, and the head rolls a foot away from it. 

You look over and see Triss and Ciri battling their wolf, which perishes quickly. 

Ciri stands up straight next to Triss' and looks over at you and Geralt. You notice her arm's bleeding. Triss turns to her, starting to help heal her wound, and all your swords disappear. You grab Geralt's arm before he can run off, and he looks at you. 

You squeeze his arm, in comfort, and in reminiscence. 

Geralt walks over to Ciri, and you watch him help his daughter.

#Geralt #geralt of rivia #witcher geralt #the witcher #geralt x reader #geralt x you #geralt x male reader #geralt of rivi #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x you #geralt of rivia x male reader #geralt of rivia x male!reader #triss #triss merigold #witcher triss #ciri #witcher ciri #cirila #cirilla fiona elen riannon #my work #My writing #geralt of the witchers

[gryffindorcls]

Meant To Be:  Chapter 1 (Concert)

IT’S DAY ONE OF LOVESQUARE FLUFF WEEK 2020!!!  

Thank you @lovesquarefluffweek​ for organizing this event!

I decided to write a multi-chaptered fic this year.  Today’s prompt is “Concert”.

Enjoy!

---

Next —-> 

AO3

FanFiction

Chapter 1: Concert

“What’s that bright light coming from the park?” Chat Noir asked, perching himself on the edge of the roof and observed the scene below, “I know there are street lights down there, but they’re not usually that bright.”

Ladybug moved next to him. “Well, I did see some workers setting up for a wedding earlier today.”

“A wedding? How do you know?”

“My fam…uh,” she cleared her throat, “I mean, my favorite bakery is catering the event this weekend.”

“Oh.”

“But the workers finished hours ago, and I don’t see any people down there right now. I know that they put one of those temporary chain-link fences around the venue, but we should probably go check it out anyway. I doubt it’s an Akuma, but maybe they accidentally left something running?”

“Sounds good, my lady. Lead the way.”

The duo leaped off of the rooftop and landed gracefully inside the fenced-off area. Ladybug dove behind a bush and gestured for him to come. Chat quickly joined her behind the foliage and peered over the leaves. After a few minutes of observation, they both came to the conclusion that they were alone in the park.

“I think everything is safe, my lady,” he declared, “We should get going. I know you’re probably itching to get our patrol started.”

“Wow.” To his surprise, Ladybug ignored his statement, grabbed his hand, and pulled him into the decorated space. “They did an amazing job. It’s so beautiful.”

Everything within the boundaries of the fence was tastefully adorned with an explosion of pink and white. Chairs made of slatted wood-lined both sides of a shimmery aisle runner while large pots containing rose bushes in full bloom were scattered throughout the grounds.

A white gazebo that had been fashioned into an altar was the source of the park’s illumination. Light poured through translucent white curtains that swayed gently in the breeze. A cascading garland of pink and white roses adorned the entranceway.

“It’s like walking through a dream,” Ladybug whispered, reaching out to touch the delicate petals on the make-shift archway.

Chat stood next to her under the flowered veil. “Do you like roses?”

She nodded. “Yeah, the pink ones are my favorite.”

“I’ll make sure to remember that.”

“Thinking of getting me flowers?”

“Purr-haps.”

Ladybug flicked his bell. “I thought this little kitty was smitten with someone else. At least that’s what he told me that last time I checked.”

He turned his head away. “Um...no. Things didn’t exactly work out with her. We were...um...too alike.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Chaton.”

“Thank you, my lady.”

A dull ache resonated throughout his body. Every fiber of his being yearned to be with Ladybug. A lot had changed between them, but she was still his everything. Several months ago, he’d tried so hard to move on from his crush on her, but looking for love somewhere else only made him realize that he’d never stop being in love with her.

After Ladybug became the Guardian, Chat began to spend time with his partner after patrols. He knew that she needed his unwavering support, and he was more than willing to provide it.

At first, their conversations centered around plans to find and defeat Hawkmoth, but they eventually started talking to each other about their everyday lives. Without revealing their identities, they got to know each other on a more personal level.

Soon, Ladybug was no longer just the beautiful enigma who’d stolen his heart. He’d come to discover that beneath her serious exterior was an ordinary girl who led an extraordinary life. She had hopes and dreams like everyone else. She wasn’t perfect, but she was real. Chat always knew that his lady was brave, creative, and intelligent, but he was pleasantly surprised to learn that she was also quirky, kind, and selfless. While he still didn’t know her name, it was almost as if she was someone he knew in his civilian life.

It didn’t take long for them to become each other’s best friends. Once this happened, he knew things would never work out with Kagami. His heart would forever belong to his lady, and loving anyone other than his partner proved to be an impossible task.

So, with a heavy heart, he told Kagami that he was in love with another girl. Initially, she’d been upset, but they eventually came to a mutual understanding. In the end, he was happy that he and Kagami were able to remain friends.

Chat didn’t tell Ladybug about the overwhelming love he still felt for her because he was afraid that she didn’t want to know about it. His lady had mentioned going on a few dates with someone, but she said that she decided to stay friends with the mystery boy. He knew that she wasn’t dating anyone at the moment, but he’d become terrified of rejection. His heart wasn’t ready to hurt again.

Being in Ladybug’s presence made him feel broken and whole at the same time. However, after seeing the wonderment in her expression tonight, he was on the verge of shattering into a million pieces. As he continued to watch her gush over the decorations, a surge of emotion pressed against the fissures in his soul.

When tears started to brim in the corners of his eyes, he turned his head away from his lady and did his best to focus on something else. His gaze eventually landed on a white baby grand piano in the middle of the gazebo.

He sniffled, hastily wiped the wetness from his cheeks, and took a seat on the bench. After lifting the lid, he gently ran his fingers across the keys. He took a deep breath and began to play.

At first, the notes came slowly. As he continued to play, his song started to evolve into a tune that reflected his deepest desires. It was the song that his soul sang every day. He closed his eyes and escaped into the music.

Her voice cut into his reverie and pulled him back to earth. “That’s beautiful, Chaton.”

“Thank you, my lady.” His fingers still danced across the keys while he spoke.

“I’ve never heard that song before. Is it from something?”

“I wrote it. The melody took over every thought and wrote itself on my heart.”

“It’s incredible.” She walked over and sat down next to him. “What inspired you to write it?”

Chat’s fingers went still. “You were my inspiration.”

He heard her breath hitch. “What?”

“I wrote it for you.” He met her gaze.

“Please don’t stop.” Ladybug’s voice was barely a whisper.

“Anything for you, my lady.” Chat looked back down at the keys and started again from the beginning.

He once again lost himself in the melody. Every passing note screamed a hidden declaration of love. As if it was the last thing he’d ever do, he poured every ounce of himself into his playing. He couldn’t find the courage to voice the “I love you” that pounded against his chest, so his song spoke for him instead. Tonight, the piano sang the song of his soul, and he really hoped that his lady was listening.

When the song ended, he became painfully aware of Ladybug’s presence. Chat turned his head only to find his lady looking at her lap. Her bangs obscured her face, making it impossible for him to gauge her reaction.

“Thank you for playing that for me, Chat,” she said softly, “I have to go home now, but I’ll see you soon.”

He reached out as she got up and walked away from the piano. “Wait! We didn’t finish our patrol.”

“It’s a school night, and I have to finish some homework before tomorrow. Paris will be okay for tonight.”

He felt his entire body droop. “You hated it.”

Within seconds, her hands slipped into his own and she pulled him to his feet. “Oh, no, Chaton. That’s not it at all. I loved it. I loved it with all my heart.”

“Then why are you leaving?”

“The schoolwork thing isn’t a lie. I really do need to finish my Physics homework; however, I have a feeling that it’s going to take a little longer tonight because I suddenly have a lot on my mind.”

“But what does…”

Before he could finish his question, Ladybug slipped away and stood in the gazebo’s entranceway.

“I’ll see you soon, kitty.” She gave him a little wave and swung off into the night.

Chat felt the beginnings of a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. “Goodnight, my lady.”

***

Marinette sighed and stared at the ceiling. She’d been in bed for six hours, and, to her utter despair, she was still awake. Nothing felt right. Nothing felt comfortable. Her usually soft bed had betrayed her.

With a huff, she sat up, fluffed her pillow, and flopped back down onto the bed. She then scooped up one of her throw pillows and screamed into it.

“What’s wrong, Marinette?” Tikki mumbled groggily from her nest of blankets.

“Why is it always the blond ones?” She turned onto her back and stared at the ceiling. “Why couldn’t I have just fallen for the cute one with the black and blue hair! It would have been so much easier!”

“Sorry. I’m not quite following you.”

“Do you remember when Luka played me that song when I was trying to get over my crush on Adrien?”

“Yes.”

“Well, when he played that song, it felt like the giant gaping hole in my chest had been refilled. It wasn’t the same, but I felt whole again. It would have been easy to fall in love with him.”

“Okay, but what does that have to do with blond boys?”

Marinette squeezed the throw pillow against her chest. “When Chat played me that song tonight, it made me feel more than just whole. I felt complete. Like I gained something that I didn’t have before...something I didn’t even know that I needed. Does that make sense?”

Tikki giggled. “That makes all the sense in the world!”

“What do you mean?”

“I want you to think for a moment, Marinette. How do you really feel about Chat Noir?”

“He’s my best friend. My partner. We’ve never been closer, and I trust him with my life.”

“No, really think. How do you feel about Chat?”

Marinette laid her head on her pillow, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. She let her consciousness wander back to the park and the glowing lights of the gazebo. Chat’s melody rang through her mind like the gentlest lullaby. It quieted her thoughts and soothed her soul.

Moments before falling asleep, everything suddenly made sense.

“I love him, Tikki,” she whispered before drifting into a blissful slumber.

That night, Marinette dreamt of spots, flashes of black, and soaring over the rooftops of Paris. It was as if her mind was finally catching up to her heart.

She awoke the next morning with cheeks that were sore from smiling. It’d been so long since she’d felt this way. The heartbreak of walking away from Adrien had crushed her, but for the first time in months, she was walking on air.

Even though she’d only gotten two hours of sleep, she felt wonderful. Her brain was a little fuzzy, but she decided that it was okay. Marinette knew she would spend the whole day dreaming about the next time she would see Chat.

She hummed while she got ready, and she kept humming while she walked to school. When Marinette took her seat, she continued to hum. After taking out her textbook, she rested her head in her arms and stared wistfully into the distance. Her entire world was a blissful blur.

“Girl!” A foreign entity screamed. “ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME?”

Marinette blinked twice and looked up. Alya stood before her with her arms crossed over her chest and a smug grin painted on her lips.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Marinette did her best to focus on her best friend.

“Where is your head today? I’ve been calling your name for a full minute. You didn’t even move when I poked you.”

“I...uhh…” She sighed. “Sorry, Alya. I didn’t get much sleep last night. I think my brain is still dreaming.”

Alya laughed. “Girl, you are a mess!”

“I know.”

“It’s okay. I’ll let you copy my notes if you fall asleep in class.”

“Thank you so much! You are a lifesaver!”

“I know. But if I do this for you, then you’ll have to tell me the real reason behind that lovesick grin on your face.” Alya nudged her arm.

Marinette began to panic. “W-what do you mean? My face is perfectly normal, thank you very much!”

“Mmmmhmmm. Don’t lie to me. I haven’t seen an expression like that on you in months. Spill. Who’s the guy? Did you finally say yes to Luka?”

“No.”

Alya leaned in and dropped her voice to a whisper. “It’s not Adrien, is it? I heard he’s not dating Kagami anymore.”

“NO!” Marinette shouted before clearing her throat and adjusting her volume, “No, it’s...wait, when did he break up with Kagami?”

“A few weeks ago. Nino told me.”

“Oh, wow, but um...no. It’s not Adrien.” A pang shot through her heart, and she quickly brushed away the sensation. “You don’t know him.”

Alya squinted. “You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not!”

“Fine, keep your secrets. But you will owe me a whole box of pastries when you finally start dating Adrien. I’m telling you, girl, you and he are meant to be! It’s like the whole universe is working to get you two together.”

“Alya, it’s not like that. Adrien and I are just friends.”

“Sure! Go ahead, and keep telling yourself that. Just know that I’d like a mix of eclairs and chocolate croissants.”

“Hey, babe,” Nino called from across the room, causing both girls to whip their heads towards the door, “What’s up? You two look like you’re having a pretty deep convo.”

Alya looked back at her. “Marinette was just telling me about someone who caught her eye.”

“I was not,” she responded through gritted teeth.

Adrien walked into the room and took his seat. “Good morning! How is everyone today?”

“We’re all doing great,” Alya beamed, “Thanks for asking. How’s your day going, sunshine?”

“I’m...um...okay.” He took a deep breath. “I have a lot on my mind today.”

Before Marinette could react to his statement, Miss Bustier sauntered into the room. “Good morning, class. Let’s get started right away. Please open your books to page three-hundred and ninety-four.”

Marinette’s eyes may have stayed open during the lesson, but her consciousness was somewhere else. By the time class had ended, Chat’s melody had once again surfaced in her mind. Even though she couldn’t hear the notes with her ears, she allowed herself to become lost in her memory of them.

Eventually, she began to hum.

A gentle hand touched her forearm and snapped her back into reality. Within seconds, she became painfully aware of two shining green eyes looking into her own. Marinette could have sworn that there was admiration behind Adrien’s softened gaze. It was the kind of look that she had only dreamed of seeing him cast in her direction.

She found it strange how the love she felt for Chat seamlessly transitioned into a resurgence of feelings for her former crush; nonetheless, she allowed herself to revel in his closeness. In doing so, she was transported to a place she never thought she’d have the chance to revisit. Yet, here was the boy of her dreams, looking at her like she was the center of his universe.

It felt familiar.

It felt safe.

It felt right.

“Adrien,” she said breathlessly.

He swallowed before speaking. “Where did you hear that song?”

Marinette’s heart pounded against her chest as she struggled to find an answer.

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug fic #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #eventual reveal #fluff #lovesquarefluffweek2020 #ao3 #fanfiction #Meant To Be #Chapter 1 #Concert

[crescent-quill-writings]

When Raindrops Fall on Moonlit Roses: Turning (3/3)

Part 1    Part 2

Fandom: Hamilton - Miranda

Words: 3930

Relationship: Alexander Hamilton/Thomas Jefferson

Additional Tags: Vampire AU, Strangers to Lovers, Thunderstorms, Panic Attacks, Astraphobia, Thanatophobia, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Intimacy, Vampire Bites

Summary: It’s a cold and stormy night and poor Alexander Hamilton is caught out in the rain trying to make his way home from the next town over. Better yet, he’s gotten himself lost in the woods by trying to take a short cut home and now the sun is sinking below the horizon. It feels like all hope is lost until Alexander comes across an old manor with candlelight in its window. With nowhere else to turn, he knocks on the door.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It had been almost a week since Alexander had discovered Thomas' secret and his subsequent escape attempt. It was still raining, but the sky had turned from the ominous dark greys of a thunderstorm to the softer shades of calmer rainfall.

He had come to appreciate the pattern they'd fallen into since their arrangement had begun. He'd wake up in the late morning or early afternoon in his periwinkle room, slip out of bed and open the curtains to let some light in before he'd find a bundle of new clothes and a good morning note on top of the dresser.

Alexander picked up this morning's message, rubbing his thumb over the paper as he found himself admiring how elegant his name looked in the Count's handwriting before he unfolded it and read:

Goodmorning Alexander,

I hope you had a good rest and you've been enjoying your time here so far. I believe that the weather has finally started taking a turn for the better and we'll have clear skies soon. If the weather is nice tonight I'd like to show you something. I've left breakfast on the stove for you again, it's oatmeal; the same kind as your first day here. As always, I'll see you again after sunset, my darling.

Yours, Thomas Jefferson

He smiled at the note, a light pink dusting his cheeks from the pet name as he took the slip of paper and tucked it in the drawer of his nightstand. He had made a habit of keeping all the notes Thomas had written to him. Some had poems, others contained compliments about little details he had noticed while spending time with him, and others were simpler like today. Still, they always wished him a good morning, they always told him what was for breakfast, and they always made him smile.

"I wonder what he wants to show me... Maybe he'll let me read those other tomes?" Alexander mused to himself as he closes the drawer and crosses the room to change into his new outfit.

This time he had been left a pearly silk button-up shirt, a pair of coffee coloured dress pants, and an emerald green satin suit vest. It seemed Thomas had gotten a better understanding of his guest's taste in fashion but he still liked to show off a little.

Alexander rolled his eyes at the clothes, his expression playful and almost amused as he got changed. Thomas may have been an ancient and powerful creature of the night, but he was still predictable in his extravagance.

________________________________________________________________

Alexander made his way straight to the mahogany doors of the library after breakfast, having learnt the way after spending a few days wandering the seemingly endless halls of the manor and mapping as much of the space in his mind as he could remember.

Even though he'd never admit it aloud, the house was a work of art in itself.

He would admit, though, that Thomas' library was absolutely amazing. It might take him a few years, or even his whole life, but he wanted nothing more than to be able to read every last book on those shelves. So, he gathered together a stack almost as tall as he was before taking his place by the fainting couch and beginning to read.

Alexander had gotten through a couple of novels before he heard the creak of mahogany doors opening again.

"Why you insist on sitting on the floor when there's plenty of chairs, I'll never understand..."

"Hello to you too, Thomas."

The Count's tone was amused, and he greeted Alexander with a smile even as he shook his head at his behaviour. He paused for a moment, picking up the few books his guest had already finished and eyeing the taller stack with a raised eyebrow.

"Ambitious today, are we? You've picked some of my favourites too... I might just have to help you finish these off." He commented, smirking as he saw his guest roll his eyes in response before he went to put return the finished books to their shelves.

When Thomas returned a moment later he thumbed through the stack of books before he picked one, turning it over in his hands as he contemplated the choice before taking a seat on the couch.

Alexander couldn't help but smile as he turned the page and listened to the shifting of fabrics as his host moved to lounge back on the couch. He leaned his head back against the cushion so Thomas could begin to absentmindedly run his fingers in his hair as they read in comfortable silence.

This was why he always insisted on sitting on the floor. Thomas was tall and took up nearly the whole couch with how he liked to sit, and the armchairs were too far away for them to be as close as he wanted. Here, on the floor, Alexander got to enjoy both a good book and his host's gentle caress. He wasn't sure when they had come upon this little seating arrangement, but he didn't want it to be any other way.

They spent a few hours in comfortable silence, simply reading and relishing in each other's company.

________________________________________________________________

The pair had gotten about halfway through the stack before Thomas' hand suddenly stilled and he sat up, closing his book. Alexander frowned at the loss of contact, but he too put his book aside and turned to his host to see what had taken his attention away.

"I think it stopped, I don't hear the rain anymore." The Count murmured, gaze flickering between different places on the stained-glass skylight as he watched and listened for signs of rain.

Alexander listened too, only to be met with complete silence.

"Yeah, I guess it has..." He added before Thomas began to stand, a smile breaking out across his face.

"Perfect timing then! Come, there is something I want to show you." He stated, taking Alexander's hands in his and pulling him up on to his feet.

"Where are you taking me?"

"I'm not just going to tell you, darling, that would spoil the surprise." The Count replied with a laugh, his smile growing as he watched his guest huff and begin to blush from the pet name.

Alexander let himself be led around by his host, trying and failing to get him to spill the beans as he watched him take a violin from its display case before making their way out of the library.

Thomas remained intent on not spoiling whatever he had planned as he led his guest by the hand, following a path that Alexander hadn't found the time to explore yet. It led them past another dozen rooms before they reached what Alexander would call a sunroom, though he was sure his vampiric host had a different name for it, and then outside into the gardens.

The smooth stone path still shone with rainwater, but the storm itself had finally blown past to reveal the shining stars and the silver sliver of a waning crescent moon. while the sky may have been a pretty sight, it was nothing in comparison to the majesty of the garden.

"Thomas, this is amazing...!" Alexander gasps, stepping out ahead of his host as he takes in the sight before him.

The paths were lined with hundreds, if not thousands of rose bushes in full bloom. The ruby-red blossoms were still dotted with residual raindrops, making them shine like little diamonds amongst the petals.

"Beautiful, aren't they?" Thomas begins with a warm glow in his eyes and a soft smile as he watches his carefully cup one of the blooms in his hand, "They're called Bloodmoon Roses since I've bred them to only bloom at night and are just the prettiest shade of red... You won't find them anywhere else." He explains, walking up behind Alexander and placing a hand on the small of his back to guide him further down the path.

"Yeah, they really are..." Alexander replies, voice barely above a whisper in his awe as he leaned into his host's side and allowed himself to be led further down the path.

Thomas began to hum a little tune as they soon arrived at a gazebo in the centre of the gardens, his guest still quiet in his awe of the perfectly beautiful blooms around him.

Alexander couldn't help but gasp as he was sat down on a soft bench and met with another sight.

Thomas stood in front of him, lifted the violin to his chin and began to play, serenading his guest with a waltzing melody that picked up where his humming left off.

The song was beautiful, but the man playing it was simply gorgeous. He was perfectly framed by the arches of the gazebo and looked absolutely radiant amongst the backdrop of the garden.

"Thomas, I... I don't know what to say." Alexander finally spoke as his host sets down the violin, though the song still seemed to echo in the still night air.

"You don't need to say anything, darling, it's all in your eyes," Thomas replies, taking his guest by the hand again and starting to lead in a gentle, swaying waltz.

They stayed like that for a while, Alexander following the steps of the dance the best he could as Thomas held him flush against his chest and looked at him like he was the most beautiful rose of them all.

"The moon will be new tomorrow..." The Count spoke, breaking the silence with the hushed murmur of his voice, "And the roads will dry now that the rain has stopped. I think it's time you made your decision, darling." He adds, slowing his steps as his guest looked up to meet his eye.

Alexander paused, contemplating his host's words even though his heart already knew what his answer would be. He had been searching all his life to be a part of something larger than himself, to find a way to leave his mark on the world before the inevitable end. If he stayed here and became a fledgling vampire under Thomas' wing, he'd have all the time in the world to do the million things he wanted to.

"I don't want to leave you... I want to stay, I want to be yours." He whispered, wrapping his arms around Thomas and burying his face in his chest.

"Hush, my darling... If you want to stay, then you will stay. I would be honoured to have you by my side forevermore." The Count murmured in response, lifting a hand to run his fingers through Alexander's hair.

"I know you offered once before, but still... Thank you, thank you so much, Thomas." Alexander replied, a smile growing across his face as he opened his mouth to continue only to be met by the feeling of Thomas' lips against his.

The kiss was warm, loving even, but held this subtle hunger that just made Alexander melt into the affection and lean into the Count's hand as he cupped his cheek.

"Tomorrow, then..." Thomas whispered as he pulled away, though their lips were still barely an inch apart.

Alexander simply nodded, smiling.

"Tomorrow."

________________________________________________________________

That night Alexander could hardly sleep.

Every time he closed his eyes he'd see Thomas in the garden, playing his violin surrounded by his roses. He'd hear his serenade and feel his arms around his waist and their lips pressed together in a soft embrace.

"Tomorrow..." He repeats in a whisper, brushing his fingers over his own lips as he utters the word before rolling over in bed and clutching a pillow to his chest, giving it a tight squeeze.

It took a while, but Alexander somehow managed to fall asleep late into the night and woke up even later the next day.

He was still holding onto the pillow as he slipped out of bed and walked over to the window to pull open the curtains, blinking as he was met with the light of a sunny afternoon.

"I guess I slept in a little..." He murmured with a yawn as he rubbed his eyes, then tossing the pillow back onto the bed as he made his way over to the dresser.

There was no note this morning, but instead, a rose was laid on top of the bundle of clothes. Still, it made Alexander smile as he brushed his thumb over the delicate petals before he looked to see what outfit he had been given to wear.

The silk shirt was a deep wine-red colour with a thin collar made to lie flat against his shoulders instead of covering his neck and the pants a midnight black. There might not have been a vest like the previous night, but the outfit was still extravagant in its own right.

Alexander didn't quite know why the outfit made him blush, but he couldn't help the way heat began to creep across his cheeks as he pulled on the new shirt and braided the rose into his hair. There still wasn't a mirror in the room and his face may have been burning up, but he felt good wearing the clothes.

Like always he made his way down to the kitchen in search of breakfast, finding a delicious plate of cinnamon buns waiting for him. With a smile, he took a bite out of one of the sweet treats before picking up the plate and taking it with him to the library.

________________________________________________________________

Alexander was bubbling with excitement as he picked out his books for the day, hardly able to sit still as he took his place on the floor again and waited for Thomas. Maybe it was a good thing he had overslept because he didn't have to wait for long before he heard the creaking of the mahogany doors as his host arrived.

"Now aren't you just the prettiest thing... I love what you did with my rose." Thomas commented, grinning as he took his guest by the hands and brushed a strand of his hair behind his ear.

The compliment made Alexander smile as he leaned into the Count's hand, but what made him start blushing was the outfit he had chosen for himself. He had forgone the purple velvet suit jacket he usually wore, leaving him in just the black silk shirt with ruffled sleeves, his black cravat, and the velvet pants that hugged his legs in ways Alexander hadn't noticed before.

"I could say the same thing about you, Thomas... But I don't think pretty does you justice. Gorgeous, maybe? Stunning? Radiant?" He replied, earning a low chuckle in response.

"You're too kind, my darling." Thomas smiled more as he cups his guest's cheek, allowing his fangs to show through in his joyous expression before he took his usual place on the couch.

Alexander expected him to pick a book from his stack and lounge back to begin reading but instead was left gasping as the Count pulled him up onto the couch with him, situating him between his legs and laying him back against his chest.

"Thomas, what--?"

"See? This is much more comfortable than the floor..."

"Y-Yes, it is, thank you..." He couldn't help but wonder what this new position meant, but the Count already seemed to know what he was thinking as he began to caress his hair.

"I'm just holding you, darling... I've actually come to quite enjoy spending time reading with you like this, and besides, I want to do things properly when I turn you."

"Properly...?" Alexander questions, trailing off as he watches Thomas nod in response before tilting up his chin so he could better look him in the eye.

"Yes, well, that's more just me being old-fashioned, following tradition and all that... Really, I could turn you at any time, but I'm waiting for midnight. I want this to be special, after all." The Count explained, then tilting his head as his guest turned away for a moment and sighed, lightly patting him on the head, "There's no need to worry yourself with the logistics, Alexander. I'll be with you every step of the way to guide and take care of you... Besides, I've heard that the process is quite enjoyable for both parties."

Thomas couldn't help but laugh as he watched Alexander's cheeks turn a bright red at his teasing comment, but it did make him quite happy to see the spark of confidence return to his eyes.

"I guess we'll have to see about that." His guest replied with a defiant huff that makes his cherry red cheeks puff out and causes the Count to laugh a little louder before they settle back down into their comfortable quiet.

He was certainly going to enjoy tonight.

________________________________________________________________

Alexander allowed himself to doze as time went on, sometimes resting his eyes and sometimes looking up to try and follow along with whatever his host was reading. He found that Thomas almost always had a hand on him, whether he was rubbing his cheek with his thumb, twirling loose strands of hair around his fingers, or simply resting his hand on his hip.

Then the Count began to shift, taking his hands away to close his book and begin to sit up. The movement made his guest whine with a little pout as he buried his face into his chest, not yet wanting to get up.

It made Thomas chuckle as he tilted Alexander's chin up and pressed a kiss to his forehead, "It's midnight, my darling... Are you ready?"

He couldn't help the grin nor the ruby shine in his eyes as he felt Alexander's heart begin to race at the question.

"Okay, y-yeah... Yes, I guess I am." He muttered, words tumbling into each other as his tongue tries to move as fast as his thoughts before he was hushed by the Count's arms securing him in his hold like a newlywed bride and their lips brushing up against each other as Thomas next spoke.

"Perfect. There's nothing you need to worry yourself with, just think of it all as a new beginning..."

Alexander nodded a little in response as he wrapped his arms around his host's neck, smiling as he was carried out of the library and up to the master bedroom.

He had never seen Thomas' bedroom before since the Count left the door locked during most of the day, so he wasn't sure what to expect as Thomas unlocked the door with a flick of his wrist and carried his guest inside. The room was decorated in deep shades of red and accented with striking blacks, and the king-sized bed placed in the centre room drew in his attention. The sheets scarlet sheets were made of silk and the embroidered canopy that flowed down to the floor a dark onyx. It looked gorgeous and plush and so soft he could lay on it forever.

Alexander couldn't help but sigh into the softness as Thomas laid him back on the mattress.

"You look so beautiful, so peaceful..." The Count hummed as he slowly ran his hands over Alexander's chest while undoing a few of the top buttons, grinning at the way he preened under his touch.

"Thomas... What are you--?" Alexander begins to ask, only to silence himself with a quiet moan as Thomas kissed along his collarbone and trailed the little affections up along his neck.

"I'll begin soon, my darling, I'm just savouring the moment..." The Count purrs, beginning to trail the tips of his fangs along Alexander's veins, causing his breath to hitch and his heart to pound, "So let yourself relax, I'll take good care of you."

Alexander paused for a moment, taking in a breath and letting it out in a sigh before giving a small nod in response, "Okay..."

He watched as Thomas grinned, a growl forming in the back of his throat as he opened his maw and sank his fangs deep into his neck. The sensation made Alexander gasp, arching his back up off the bed before the Count wrapped an arm around his waist and rooted a hand in his hair to support his small form.

He whined, lashes fluttering and his body finally giving in to the new feelings as Thomas began to suck on the wound. Alexander looked down at him through lidded eyes and a shiver runs up his spine at the sight he was met with.

Thomas's eyes were glowing with a deep crimson that had overtaken their usual chocolate brown, and through the new colour they shone with a hunger Alexander was sure he'd never be able to forget.

"T-Thomas, nnmf~ Thomas..." Alexander whimpered, earning a growl against his skin from Thomas that made him squirm. His body was beginning to weaken and a hazy, drained feeling started to set in his mind and cloud his thoughts, but he clung tightly onto Thomas' shirt and grabbed at fistfuls of the soft sheets below him.

Alexander was gasping, body beginning to still as he fell limp in Thomas' hold, only able to loosely paw at his chest as his eyes began to flutter shut, "Tom... Thomas..."

The Count finally pulled back, kissing at the wound and licking away the last crimson drops that pooled there, "Shh, you're okay. You've done very well, just keep those pretty eyes of yours open for me... Think you can do that?"

Alexander whined in protest. He wanted nothing more than to drift off into a deep sleep surrounded the soft sheets and held safe in his love's arms, but he still obeyed and watched Thomas with glazed-over eyes as he pressed a fingernail into his thumb until a bulb of wine-red liquid formed on the surface. He then pressed his thumb to Alexander's lips, earning another weak noise of protest as he tilted his head away.

"Just give it a taste, darling. I promise it will help you." Thomas cooed, cupping his cheek and tilting his head back to face him as he offered him a smile.

In his dazed state, Alexander smiled back, eyes heavy as he nodded and let the first drop fall onto his tongue before beginning to lick at the tiny cut. The taste made a seizing shiver run down his spine and take in a sharp gasp, but now that he had started he couldn't stop himself as he continued to lap at the wine red liquid.

Alexander managed to find some of his strength again as he clung onto fistfuls of Thomas's shirt, taking his thumb into his mouth and starting to suck in an attempt to drink more.

"That's it... So good, very good," The Count cooed, pressing a pair of kisses to Alexander's now closed eyes before he took his hand away and let him fall back against the pillows, "Now relax, you've done everything just right, I'm so proud of you."

Thomas' voice trailed off as he continued to whisper sweet nothings into the cool night air, freeing Alexander's hair from its braid so he could run his fingers through the soft strands while he laid next to him. He waited for the bite to take, watching carefully as Alexander's chest stilled and the steady ba-thump of his heart faded away.

Then Alexander began to stir, first parting his lips to reveal newly sharpened canines before opening his eyes that now glowed with crimson.

"So how do you feel, my Alexander?" Thomas asked quietly as he pulled the fledgling vampire into a chaste kiss with a smile against his lips.

"I feel alive."

#Jamilton #Vampire AU #hamilton #hamilton: an american musical #vampire!Thomas Jefferson #Alexander Hamilton #Thomas Jefferson #my writing #chapter 3

[wicked-cupcake]

Her Favourite

Pairing: Lucifer/Cadence (oc)

Word Count: 4206

Rating: G

Summary: Jealousy is a bitter pill to swallow, and it's not one he has to take often. But as the weeks leading up to his birthday pass, Lucifer finds himself at the mercy of his brothers’ sins as her attention moves away from him. Instead, they look to someone he can’t contest.He has his pride and refuses to grovel - but who knew a single human could stir so many emotions within him?

A/N: This idea has been on my brain for weeks and I'm glad I started it early so I could finish it on time for the birthday boy! Even if they just put out an event and now I want to tweak this to reflect it.... There will eventually be a semi-sequel to this where they stop beating around the bush but that one is just taking a while to finish. And a small note that my character has angel blood but she isn't a descendant of Lilith.

-

Month 10, Day 6

The gentle knock on the bookshelf told him exactly who was on the other side.

Lucifer leaned back in his chair, pen still hovering over paper. He shouldn’t have been surprised that she had found him, but he was pleased she’d sought him out. Even if it was late and she should be sleeping more than anyone. Today had been filled with enough excitement to exhaust her, angel heritage or not. He’d fully assumed she’d passed out with how fast she’d disappeared after they’d returned home, yet here she was.

Another knock. “Lucifer? Are you in there?”

And he left her on the other side of the door like a fool. A sharp word had the door opening for her, the bookcase sliding away silently. It had barely stopped moving before she was stepping into view.

His gaze moved over her as the door closed. She’d changed out of the little red dress she’d worn at the party, but the hem of her sweater seemed even shorter. Or perhaps her stockings didn’t climb as high as usual. There was no time to consider that as he focused on what was in her hands. “What is that?”

Cadence gave him a smile, soft but amused. “A princess poison apple cake.”

“We had cake earlier.”

“We did,” she agreed, “you didn’t.”

So she had noticed. He’d thought she’d been too distracted by-Lucifer cut off those thoughts swiftly to stay on topic. The cake had been impossible not to balk at. If that five tiered, red frosted sweet monstrosity could be called a cake. He’d taken one look at it and immediately gotten heartburn. The plate Diavolo had given him had mysteriously vanished shortly after.

“More importantly,” she said, voice sharp and tart, “what is that?”

Only a fool would miss what she meant and for the faintest moment he wanted to be that fool. But there was no point. “My work.”

“It’s your birthday.”

How did she manage to sound both cross and cute at the same time? He didn’t linger on those thoughts as he felt the flickers of a gnawing emotion he’d been fighting for weeks to ignore come to life. He wasn’t going to lose to them now. “The work doesn’t magically disappear because it’s my birthday,” he said dryly.

She huffed. “You could take one night off. No one would fault you that.”

No one meaning Diavolo but he was the one who’d assigned him these tasks. “I took the day off because someone insisted,” he said, giving her a pointed look that didn’t faze her. “But if I leave this I’ll fall behind.”

She didn’t like that answer any better. When she’d first arrived, she’d been so much harder to read. Polite and curious, but standoffish and private. She was still polite and curious to be sure yet whatever walls kept her emotions back had fallen. At least they had for him and his brothers. Her expressions gave her away more readily, made her much easier to read and understand.

“Take a break with me.”

But she still managed to surprise him. “We took a break all day.” Which was no doubt her doing; his brothers wouldn’t have gone to half of the effort he’d seen without her encouragement. Even Diavolo couldn’t get that kind of party together for him and-

The jealousy surged to life again but all that he let show was his grip tightening on his pen. No. He’d told himself he wasn’t going down that road. It was a waste of time and energy.

“Lucifer?”

Concern on her face now and he wanted to curse. As easy as she was becoming to read, the reverse seemed to hold true. She seemed to be wildly in tune with him, able to gauge his moods with ease. Not that it stopped her pushing when she shouldn’t. 

Cadence set the cake on the desk and gave him another smile but it wasn’t the same as before and he didn’t like it. This was sad and withdrawn, reminiscent of the ones she’d first given when she’d arrived in the Devildom. “You can have a piece later,” she said. “But please take a break.”

She was going to leave. Something clawed past the jealousy inside him, something he refused to put a name to just yet. “Stay.”

Rocking on her heels as her weight shifted, she stopped but she still didn’t look convinced, didn’t look like she wanted to stay anymore. Which did not help his stew of emotions.

He’d tried to ignore them, but as the weeks since Asmo’s birthday had passed he’d seen her change. She’d grown skittish and shy around him, avoiding being alone with him. He had thought it merely a human mood until Diavolo had happily mentioned how much time Cadence had been spending with him. It hadn’t been difficult to put together that the time she’d given Lucifer before was going to Diavolo now. The jealousy had swiftly followed that realisation.

It was impossible to miss how she smiled at the prince, smiles that had bloomed and grown in this very room the more time they’d spent together. His damned pride had stung but he refused to let her see it, to let her see how much she affected him. So he had left her alone to choose her fool’s path and wondered if all of the signs, all of the signals, all of her had been a ruse to use him as a stepping stone to her true goal. And if he had been a bigger fool to read her so wrong.

But she’d been the one to take his hand to lead him into his birthday celebration today. Her smiles had been bright and directed at him again. Only him. She’d reminded him of the eternal sun in the Celestial Realm, but she had spread a warmth in him that it never had. She’d acted like the last weeks hadn’t happened at all.

He pulled back when warm fingers brushed his shoulder. How distracted was he that he hadn’t registered her getting closer?

“If you don’t want me to stay or want the cake, it’s okay, Lucifer.”

No. It wasn’t okay. This was the first time she’d sought him out in weeks and he didn’t want her to leave. He needed to know why. He set his pen down and twisted toward her. “We’ve seen each other all day and most of the night. But you want more?”

The faintest hint of pink dusted her cheeks and momentarily stunned him. “We didn’t really get to spend much time together today,” she corrected. “And I’ve been busy lately so I haven’t seen you.”

Busy chasing Diavolo, his pride hissed. Did he turn you away and now you come back to me? As a second option?

“I thought it would be nice to have a bit of quiet, but you weren’t in your room when I checked.”

She’d gone to his room dressed like this? It was more personal than the little number she’d had on before, reminded him of the nights they’d shared late dinners and watched movies. Made him realise how much he had missed having those moments with her.

“And I wanted to give you your present privately.”

Lucifer pushed out of his chair, the legs scraping on the floor. Her eyes widened at the sudden move, but she didn’t falter as he stood over her. Did she even understand what she did to him and now she was offering him what he craved?

Wrath licked at the edges of his jealousy to turn it into an even messier stew. To offer this gift to him after, to think of him second? To admit he’d been fool enough to fall for her so many months ago and leave the decision to her only to be spurned? To know so much of him still wanted her and would accept this offer?

He wasn’t sure if he was angrier at her or himself.

Warmth bloomed suddenly in his chest, spreading as a gentle pressure pushed on him. “Lucifer.”

His gaze focused on her, all of her, and he finally noticed the small red bag looped over one arm. He mentally pulled back as he realised that was his present, not her, but it wasn’t as easy to rein in his emotions. They were still a mess, feeding into each other in a horrible storm. But Cadence still didn’t move, watching him and keeping her hand on his chest.

Did she know how close to breaking he’d come? Did she know how she twisted him up inside? How had he let it come to this? How had he let himself fall so hard for her?

He stared at her as he breathed evenly, shoving emotions into their boxes while she gazed back at him. “You should have run,” he said when he finally felt confident his voice wouldn’t give him away. He could still hear the edges to it but she didn’t seem to.

“Running wouldn’t do me any good.”

No, it wouldn’t but every time she stood in his path, every time she refused to back down to him, he loved her a little more. And he was bringing about his own doom by doing it. Reaching up, he covered her hand with his and soaked in the warmth she freely offered. He didn’t miss how her eyes widened at the skin contact, but he pulled her away. “How many times am I going to have to tell you to have some self-preservation?” he said, letting go of her.

Cadence pulled her hand to her, curling it against her chest. But she gave him a better smile. “Maybe you should stop wasting your breath since it hasn’t caught yet,” she teased.

The emotional storm eased a little at her usual response. “What did you get me?”

“Nuh uh. Cake first and then present.”

“It’s my birthday.”

“It’s my present.”

“It’s my present.”

There. The smile she gave him was the one he was used to, the one that was lit up so beautifully. “It’s for you,” she countered, “but it’s still mine until I give it.”

This felt enough like their usual for him to relax further. She was smiling again, teasing him again, and he...was a fool for letting her affect him this way. “And you’ll give it?”

“I’m not going to keep your present away from you; just let me choose when to give it.”

Those emotions nipped at him, reminding him he had waited, had let her choose and she-Was here now, he told himself. Lingering gave her more power over him. “If I eat the cake, will you give it?”

Still that smile but he took it as a yes.

Moving around her, Lucifer made a point not to touch her even accidentally. He lifted the plate off his desk and gestured at one of the couches. “Shall we?”

She was moving before he fully finished, excitement hanging heavily around her again.

As they settled on the couch, he didn’t miss how there was barely any distance between them. Exactly like it had been before. “Is there a reason why you waited so late?”

She hummed and set the bag on her far side, even though they both knew he could get it before she could stop him. “I needed to finish this,” she said, taking the plate from him and passing him a fork. “And I didn’t want to have an audience.”

Why not, Cadence? “Was that in your pocket?”

“It’s clean.”

“Is it?”

“I will take my cake and present and leave if you keep that up.”

She wouldn’t or she would have already. He took the fork and gave her the benefit of the doubt. When she held the cake out to him, he dutifully reached out with his fork. It almost seemed a shame to mar it, she’d done a wonderful job of replicating the apples. But he was curious to know how it tasted.

A flash of sour hit his tongue as he slid the bite into his mouth, exactly like the apples. Had she used them in making it? Or was it in the icing, which barely had any sweetness to it?

“How’s it taste?”

“Perfect, Cadence.” His brothers were tolerable cooks but she was so far beyond them. She had spoiled them over the course of the last year and not having her cooking anymore would be a blow.

He paused as he took a second piece. Barely two months left before she would return to the human world. So little time and she- “Open up,” he said, holding the fork to her lips.

Her eyes danced a little but she did as he said and dutifully took the bite.

“I expected more fight from you,” Lucifer said, taking his own bite.

“Mm, it’s your birthday. I can behave a little.”

Did she know how much he enjoyed it when she didn’t? He gave her another bite, wondering how she could be so content letting him feed her. “Did you bring another fork?”

“Nope.”

He gave her a measuring look, not missing the sparkle in her eyes. She was lying but he could let her get away with this one. His pride still stung, demanded to be appeased, but who was he to deny himself this simple pleasure with the woman he-

Don’t, he told himself, focusing on feeding them both bites. 

They’d made it through half of the cake when she sighed, a sigh he knew well. His little human was full for now. He ate one more bite of his own, savouring the tartness of the apples on his tongue before he took the plate from her. Setting it and the fork on a side table, he glanced at the demonus bottles lining one wall and started to push himself up. A drink or two wouldn’t hurt anything, would go well after the cake, and-He paused, looking at her when she pressed her hand to his arm.

“Happy birthday, Lucifer,” Cadence said, holding out the bag.

Forget the demonus and the present, he was more interested in the smile she was giving him. This one was new, completely soft around the edges. This smile was a present. But he took the proffered bag. Black tissue paper was sticking out of the top of it, masking the proper present inside.

He glanced at her when she rolled against him, nudging him with her entire body. “Are you going to open it? It’s only your birthday for so much longer and it loses its meaning if you don’t have it today.”

“Are you telling me what to do?”

“Like you’d listen to me,” she laughed.

Leaning back, he turned the bag in his hands, wondering if there was a front to it. He didn’t see a card so he plucked at the paper. He glanced at Cadence when the couch shifted and saw her watching him expectantly. She was adorable as she waited, fingers curling around the hem of her sweater, lower lip caught between her teeth, and...was she flushing? The urge to draw this out flickered to life, to draw out her anticipation, but he quietly gave in.

Removing the rest of the paper, he reached into the bag. He frowned faintly as his fingers brushed against smooth glass, but it wasn’t cool to the touch. It was warm. He curled his hand around it and pulled it from the bag as well.

It fit perfectly in his palm, like it had been made to sit there, curved, clear glass letting him see inside. Lucifer stared at the dome in his hand, not missing the warmth settling into his skin. But he was caught by the flowers inside. They were distinctly human, not something that would ever have any hope of growing in the Devildom. “What is this, Cadence?”

“Your present,” she said and he resisted the urge to roll his eyes at how she said it.

He knew devil flowers, grew so many of them himself, and knew the names of many human ones as well, including this one. But why would she give him this?

“I wanted to give you something no one else would,” she said softly, her voice quiet.

“Flowers?”

“Yes and no.”

Turning the globe, he didn’t miss how the light inside it seemed to shift, letting him see the flowers unhindered no matter which direction he looked. But he turned his focus back to her. She wasn’t looking at him anymore, her gaze on her fingers as she plucked at threads in her sweater. The flush was still on her cheeks and he had to wonder why. “What is this, Cadence?” he repeated.

She was quiet for a long moment, still playing with her sweater, until she took a deep breath. “I’m going to be leaving soon,” she said and he didn’t miss the way her voice caught. “At the end of next month. I thought about it for a long time, what I could get you that would actually mean something. I asked Diavolo and he said anything that meant something to me would mean something to you.”

She’d gone to Diavolo...to ask what gift to give him, not because she was interested in him? Lucifer studied her, wanting to see her full face. They had made the deal after Belphie’s return to them, that she wouldn’t lie to him anymore, but sometimes she didn’t tell him everything. It was easier to tell when she was hiding something when she was looking at him. But she kept looking at her hands.

“So I thought about that and I thought about how I’d be able to do that. Almost everything that mattered to me was in the human world but…. I wanted it to be something you liked as well. I thought about the gardens and how much of what little free time you have you spend there. So I got you flowers from the human world.”

Lucifer set the bag aside and shifted the gift to the other hand. “Human flowers won’t last in the Devildom.”

“I know. Which took a lot of time to figure out. More time to figure out than I expected,” she added in a mutter. “I saw more of that coven of witches than I ever wanted.”

Witches?

“I told them what I wanted, flowers for the Devildom that would last, and they gave me a solution.”

He stopped waiting. Reaching out, he caught her chin to make her look at him. Golden eyes skittered away but came back on the low noise he made. “You dealt with witches,” he said lowly. “Did you make a deal with them? What did you offer them?”

Cadence blinked at him. “I didn’t make a deal and I didn’t offer them anything beyond the materials needed to make it. I promise,” she added when he frowned at her.

“Witches don’t do anything for free.”

“They did it in return for clearing a favour,” she said. “That’s all I know.”

Had Diavolo called in the favour because it was a gift for him? Or had he done it because it was Cadence wanting to do it?

“But they gave me what I wanted,” she continued, gaze dropping to the glass in his hand. “A flower for you, from the human world that won’t wilt.”

Lucifer studied her face for another moment, taking in the happiness and pride there. 

She looked back at him and gave him a smile. “A little piece of my home for your home.”

He wavered; she was so close, so warm, his personal sun in the dark of the Devildom. She was giving him a gift, a gift she had spent so long on, but would she give him the gift he actually wanted? He tipped her face up a little, making her look at him fully. “And it’s important to you?”

“It’s my favourite flower.”

She had gone to Diavolo for this, for him, to give him her favourite flower in a way that he could keep. To have a piece of her after she left. She’d given his brothers gifts but this was personal. Her favourite flower. That something pushed past the other emotions, demanding he pay attention to it. “Carnations are your favourite?”

She hummed, nodding. “I’ve planted them every year except this one. But these will last better than anything I could have grown you.”

Her skin was so warm against his, something he had noticed the first time she had touched him. She ran hot, her blood burning in her veins to the point he’d almost thought her part demon. Which only made him wonder more about whatever angel had sired her line. But that was for another night. “Perhaps I should see if I can breed something that would grow.”

Oh the smiles she gave him! “You’ll have to send me pictures if you do. I’d love to see them.”

He’d bring her back to the Devildom to show her. He stroked his thumb over her chin and didn’t miss the way she licked her lips. Would she want a more personal thank you for the gift? Would she accept his kiss as a thank you?

His body swayed toward her, that something-that love-seizing him and wanting something in return. Her favourite flower...for her favourite demon? Was it too much to read between the lines and find that answer? The words circled in his head, narrowing down only to her favourite, and he knew he was well and truly lost to her. 

She watched him with wide, golden eyes, waiting for him to do something. Was she waiting for him to make a move for her and he’d wasted so much time waiting for her? 

The clock loudly chimed the hour, announcing it was midnight and shattering the mood between them. The flush on her cheeks suddenly had nothing to do with arousal or want and he let her go.

But she was slow to lean back, golden gaze darting over his face as if she hadn’t expected him to stop. He watched her as she sorted herself out and quickly looked away from him.

He wanted to tuck her hair behind her ear as it shielded her face from him, wanted to see what she was hiding from him. “Thank you for the present, Cadence.”

She took a deep breath before looking back at him, a fragile smile on her lips. It quivered as he looked at it but it didn’t fall. “You’re welcome, Lucifer.”

He knew it was going to happen but he still didn’t like it as she pushed off the couch, tugging her sweater down. He wanted to tell her she could stay, to help him finish the cake, but what moment they had had was gone.

“Try not to stay up all night,” she told him. “It’s not healthy.”

Ever the concern. “Cadence.”

She turned at the door, a curious look on her face.

“Humans give flowers meanings,” he said, holding up the present. “Do you know what these mean?”

It was hard to tell from his spot on the couch and the lighting in his study wasn’t the best, but he thought he saw her cheeks colour again. “No. Good night, Lucifer, and happy birthday.”

Little liar. He watched her leave, the two words floating through his mind. Had she lied again because he let her have the one about the fork? She said it was her favourite flower; surely she had looked it up and knew.

Setting the flower globe on the table in front of him, he pulled out his DDD as he leaned back. It took hardly any time at all to find the flower and his mouth turned down. How did one flower have so many meanings? He scrolled through the history of carnations before he stopped as the colours were finally listed.

Lucifer stared at the words written by dark red. Deep love? His gaze jerked up to the door even though he knew she’d made a hasty retreat after her lie. Everything she had done over the last handful of weeks had been to give this to him? She hadn’t been chasing Diavolo but enlisting his help to get her this present that symbolised her feelings for him? She’d been shy because she knew what this meant and that he wouldn’t wait to search up the meaning? She felt the same as he did?

He let out a slow breath and stared at the flowers. The light inside the glass was shining gently, glistening on the dew drops on the petals. She loved him. She wasn’t using him to get anywhere. She was coming to him in her own ways.

Leaning back, he closed his eyes as he let his head rest on the back of the couch. “You’re running out of time, Cadence,” he said quietly to the empty room. “I’ll wait for you, but don’t make me wait too long.”

A lie of his own. He’d wait as long as he had to if it meant she gave herself to him fully and without reservation. 

#obey me #obey me lucifer #lucifer/oc #obey me fanfic #obey me oc #cadence rusu #birthday story #a little bit of angst and a WHOLE lot of misunderstanding

[jojosbizarreblog]

Let Down Your Crystal walls

1 /// 2 /// 3

Chapter 1: You’re not Alone

Her mother thought she was cursed by the devil. Her father was nothing but fleeting flashes in her memory. After an unusual incident that gave her a mysterious being, Kyogen learned the harsh hand of neglect. She thought she was the only one, separated from all others with this unique ability. That was proven wrong in when she met the school’s local delinquent, Jotaro Kujo, and a newcomer, Noriaki Kakyoin. Now she’s on a fifty-day transcontinental trip, facing off against stand users and mysteries alike. Not everything is at it seems and Kyogen realizes that something else is wrong and downright bizarre.

        Song Inspiration: 'Alone' by Alan Walker

        Mother was gone again. In her wake, she left barely enough money to tide her over until the end of the month. Kyogen sighed as she counted the bills. She knew it was another long month of skipping lunch and maybe even breakfast. As she put the money neatly away in her backpack Kyogen felt something touch her shoulder. She didn't need to look back to know that it was the strange spirit that followed her, dubbed Sharpnote for its looks and abilities. "Good morning," she greeted the spirit, picking up her backpack. A short whistled note, sounding akin to someone blowing on the rim of a glass bottle, emitted from the triangular hole making up its mouth in return.

       The bright Morioh sun shone down upon them as Sharpnote followed her out of the house. It was a cold, December day as Kyogen listened to the sounds around her in her quiet walk to school. The crystalized humanoid followed her like a puppy, looming over her small frame. Her quiet trip was interrupted by a gaggle of girls surrounding a tall male as they rounded a corner, blocking the sidewalk she was on. Kyogen paused and stared at them.

        “Oh, Jotaro-san!”

        “Hey, Jojo!”

        They were parroting each other and Kyogen blinked at this interruption. She recognized the male as Jotaro Kujo, a delinquent favored by many of the girls in her high school. But right now, that didn’t matter because Kyogen needed to get to school. She stepped around to the edge of the sidewalk and peered around them. “Excuse me,” she said. No responses and the girls were still cluttering around Kujo. “Excuse me!” She repeated, louder this time.

        A girl close to Kyogen turned and flinched back, yelping when she saw Kyogen’s unimpressed face. “W-What’s with your eyes??” The girl yelled.

        That attracted the attention of the others and a few turned to her, muttering when they saw her unusual heterochromatic eyes, one brown and one glittering in hues of warm beige and rosy pink, similar to the crystals of the spirit behind her.

        “Isn’t that the girl who carries knives with her?”

        “Heard she had no dad.”

        “God, what a mom's hairstyle!”

        Kyogen shrugged, ignoring the hushed whispers and replied to the original girl, “A personal event. Now excuse me.” She maneuvered her way along the edge of the group not looking back, ignoring the stares and whispers. In her ignorance, Kyogen missed her spirit waving to the delinquent and missed the male giving the two a curious look in return.

        Kyogen left the group behind and continued her quiet walk to school.

                                                                ***

           Today was shaping up to be quite unusual. Classes were excused early because of a peculiar explosion rocking the school and shattering most of its windows. The excuse was a gas explosion and Kyogen didn’t believe that one but. Adjusting her grip on the guitar case in her hand, Kyogen hummed a little tune as she straightened her backpack. 

        Even with her humming, it was still too quiet for the teen's liking. The familiar self-destructive thoughts began to fill her mind, a vicious cycle. Something dropped behind her and a soft ‘oh dear’ met her ears. Kyogen spun around to see a blonde woman weighed down with bags of groceries, another one spilling its contents on the ground.

           Kyogen doubled back. “Let me help you with that, ma’am,” she said, leaning her guitar against the wall and picking up the fallen packages. She didn’t question why the woman had so much instant American coffee.

           The woman beamed at Kyogen. “Thank you so much, my dear! I apologize for this mess.”

           With the coffee now back in its bag, Kyogen reached for another bag just as it slipped from the woman’s hands. “It’s alright ma’am. I’m sorry if this is a little forward of me… but would you like some help with carrying these?”

           The woman tilted her head in thought, then nodded, clasping a hand to her cheek. “Oh please! If you don’t mind, dear.”

           Kyogen nodded and reached for her guitar. “Not at all, ma’am. I’ll follow you.”

           The woman resumed walking. “Thank you so much! You can call me Seiko!”

           “Of course, Seiko-sama, my name is Wind Kyogen,” Kyogen replied.

           The woman laughed, the joyous sound making Kyogen feel an unusual warmth bloom in her chest. “Just Seiko is fine!”

           Kyogen shook her head and stubbornly kept her distance. She didn’t even know this woman and she most likely wouldn’t meet her again, there was no need to get familiar. “I’m sorry, but that would be rude and disrespectful of me.”

           The woman giggled again. “Oh, you’re so respectful, dear! It’s like you’re the opposite of my son.” She leaned closer and whispered, “He acts so tough but I know deep down he cares a lot!”

           Kyogen felt a pang in her heart. Is this what mothers are supposed to be like? This woman seemed like a saint to Kyogen, even though the girl only met her a few minutes ago. She could only dream of having a mother so welcoming and warm. Kyogen gave a respectful nod.

           The woman was unfazed by her silence and continued talking, her tone bright and cheery. “You know, I think he should be home right now, along with a few other guests. I’m planning to make dinner soon.” Seiko then turned to Kyogen. ”You should stay!” She exclaimed excitedly.

           Confusion swirled through Kyogen’s mind. This woman, upon meeting her not even half an hour ago, is already inviting her to intrude upon a private moment. “I-I don’t think that’s proper of me, Seiko-sama.”

           “Nonsense! Think of it as a thank you! Plus, I would love for you to meet my son!” She insisted.

           Kyogen sighed and decided that she would just accept and find a moment to slip away from the dinner. It’s not like she needed to go anywhere, only that she felt strange inserting herself into this family. Plus, getting home before her mother would be a small bonus because Kyogen did not look forward to climbing the window or sleeping outside again. Kyogen gave the woman a defeated nod. “I suppose I’ll stay… I’m just worried that the other guests would mind.”

           Seiko cheered softly and Kyogen stiffened as the woman patted her arm. “Oh, the others won’t mind! Don’t worry if they seem cold or grouchy. After all, the more the merrier!”

        They arrived at a large pair of wooden gates and Seiko announced, “We’re here! Please, be a dear and hold this for me please.” She passed Kyogen the bag, and the girl took it without complaints. The gates creaked open and Seiko tried to reach for a few of the bags Kyogen was carrying. “It’s alright, Seiko-sama,” Kyogen said. “I can carry this into the house. You might also need to open the doors anyways.”

        Seiko sighed and shook her head, leading the girl through the pathways of the yard. “Oh, you’re too kind!”

        Kyogen couldn’t help but look the area over as Seiko rummaged for the keys. It was huge, a long pathway surrounded by a large yard with trees and plants. Kyogen couldn’t help but compare it to the place she lived in. This house took on a more traditional look, with flowering bushes and a lush, sprawling landscape, opting to spread out instead of going up. Her house had a modernistic look to it, two stories’ worth of grey and brick. Dull, cold. 

        They reached the door and Seiko slid it aside with a flourish. “I’m home!” She sang. “I have a guest with me!”

        Kyogen heard footsteps and several very large men rounded the corner. There was an older man and a dark-skinned one in a robe and a large neckpiece. She could help but sweat at the sheer height of these men. Holy only reached the shoulder of the older man and Kyogen, standing at five feet flat, barely made it to his shoulder. 

        “Holly!” The older man greeted her enthusiastically and Kyogen questioned the name. “You’re home! Who’s our little guest?”

        Kyogen bowed as much as she could with the bags and her stuff. “It’s nice to meet you, my name is Wind Kyogen. Sorry for intruding,” she replied with a formal and distant tone.

        The robed man nodded respectfully to her and replied, “Nice to meet you. My name is Muhammad Avdol.”

        The older gentleman offered her a hand and Kyogen looked at it, both of her hands occupied. The man put it down and sighed. “I’m Joseph Joestar!”

        Kyogen blinked. These people… were they introducing their first names first? “Nice to meet you all. I was helping Seiko-sama with carrying groceries, I will leave soon.”

        “Absolutely not!” Seiko said, beginning to usher Kyogen into the house. The girl barely had time to take off her shoes. “You agreed to stay over for dinner!”

        She was pushed into the kitchen where she set the bags onto the counter. Seiko was beside her, taking out various items and organizing them neatly. Joseph poked his head in. “Do you need any help?” 

        “No, no! But can you please bring dear Wind-chan to the tea room? I believe Jotaro and Kakyoin-kun are there.” Wait, Jotaro?

        “Sure! Avdol and I were going there anyway.” He waved a hand at Kyogen. “Come on, girl!”

        Kyogen followed after the men, their bulk taking up most of the hallway itself. Joseph pulled open a door and entered with Avdol. Kyogen was stepping through the threshold of the room when her eyes focused on the other two occupants. A red-haired male with a bandage on his forehead and...Kujo. Their eyes connected the delinquent was up on his feet in no time. “You!”

        A large purple man manifested behind Kujo and Kyogen tensed, locking eyes with the apparition itself. What was this? Did Kujo have a spirit like hers? Sharpnote materialized next to her, as stiff as his companion.

        The other males in the room saw her spirit companion and all shot up to their feet. Similar apparitions manifested around them. A flaming bird-headed man, a green humanoid, and vines. Huh, she needed to sit down. “What’s your purpose here?” Avdol asked her.

        Her hands tightened on the guitar case handle. “What do you mean?” She asked.

        Joseph asked her, “Do you work for Dio?” 

        Kyogen frowned, hiding her traces of fear. “Who is Dio?”

        Jotaro took a step forward, his purple spirit getting closer to her. “Cut the shit. Why the fuck are you here?”

        “I helped Seiko-sama carry her stuff here.”

        “Don’t lie, are you here to hurt us?”

         Her left eye twitched, everything was getting too overwhelming. “Look, I only wanted to help a woman carry stuff, alright? I have a pair of literal fucking daggers in my backpack and if I wanted to hurt her I would have already done it.” Kyogen sighed and shook her head. “L-Look, it’s obvious I’m not welcomed here. I’ll see myself out.” She turned around and got ready to leave.

        Kyogen jumped as a large hand clamped down on her shoulder and she was face to face with the purple spirit. Kujo’s cold voice came from behind her. “Not so fast,” he said. “Why are you running?”

        She craned her neck around and squinted at the group. “I’m not running,” she simply replied. “I’m excusing myself from a situation where I know I’m not welcomed. I’ve done it plenty of times before.”

        Seiko’s light voice interrupted the moment. Sharpnote moved aside to reveal the woman with an inquisitive look on her face, she didn’t seem to see the various spirits around them. “What’s going on in here, dear? Why are you all so tense?” Kyogen turned to the woman and was about to reply when Seiko tutted. “Were they being rude to you? I should have expected that, but don’t worry! They’ll warm up to you in no time!” 

        Kujo’s apparition moved away as the woman took Kyogen’s hand and began leading her closer to the tea table, plopping the girl and her guitar down on a free cushion. Kyogen was grateful to be able to sit down, as her legs were getting shakier. Sharpnote settled on the floor next to her guitar. Waggling a finger at the tense males Seiko chided them, “Be nice you guys, she seems like a wonderful girl so far.”

        Kyogen stared blankly at them as they stiffly sat down around the table. Seiko left, oblivious to the tension. The redhead was the first to make a move, introducing himself. “My name is Kakyoin Noriaki, a pleasure to meet you.”

        Kyogen nodded stiffly. “Wind Kyogen, pleasure’s all mine.”

        Avdol moved to make some tea and Kyogen accepted the outstretched cup. Jotaro was still eyeing her and his spirit was hovering behind him. She took a sip and felt her nerves settle slightly. Tea always had that effect on her. Questions swirled around her head as she glanced at the spirits present. “Do you all have these spirits?”            Avdol nodded, “They’re called stands, a manifestation of your life energy. They represent your soul and your mental fortitude.”

        Kyogen nodded and took a thoughtful sip of her tea. “So Sharpnote is my… stand.”

        “Correct.”

        “Wait,” Kakyoin interrupted. “Why did you react so violently when you first saw her, Jotaro?”

        Jotaro tugged his hat down. “She passed me this morning to school, the stand waved to me.”

        Kyogen stopped mid-sip and slowly turned to her...stand. “You did what?”

        Sharpnote simply tilted his head at her. She shook her head in exasperation. It was like talking to a sleepy, oversized toddler. A toddler that was taller than her by a whole foot and oddly had muscle mass and pointed edges.

        “How long have you had your stand?” Kakyoin asked her.

        “Since I was eight.” Kyogen frowned and added. “I think.”

        Joseph frowned and asked, “What do you mean you think?”

        Kyogen furrowed her brows. She was unsure of how much she should reveal to these men. Deciding that she couldn’t really lose anything, Kyogen said, “There was an incident that happened that time… I think it gave me this,” she pointed to her eye, “Sharpnote, and these.” Kyogen passed her teacup over to Sharpnote, who took it and looked at the liquid curiously. The males stared at it as the stand brought the cup to its “mouth” and tilted some of the liquid in. Kyogen was used to the spirit’s antics and unzipped her backpack, grabbing two objects wrapped in cloth. Unfolding the fabric revealed two daggers, the blades made out of the same crystals from Sharpnote. They glittered prettily, matching Kyogen’s eye and Sharpnote exactly in color.

        Awed exclamations left those around her and Jotaro pulled down his hat. “Yare, yare,” he muttered. “You really weren’t lying when you said you had knives in your bag.”

        Avdol offered a hand and asked her, “May I?”

        Kyogen slightly shook her head and began rewrapping them. “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid not.”

        “I understand.”

        With the daggers safely tucked away, Kyogen asked them a question, “How did you get your stands?”

        “I’ve had mine since childhood!” Kakyoin said.

        “As have I,” Avdol agreed.

        Joseph slung an arm around Jotaro, who roughly pushed him off. “Jotaro and I recently received our stands.”

        Wait, they received their stands? “How?”

        Joseph began going into detail about Dio, a man who had taken the body of Joseph’s grandfather. About recent stand appearances, about Kakyoin attacking Jotato under Dio’s influences.

        Kyogen listened attentively but was ultimately disappointed. “I have a question,” she said after he was finished.

        Joseph nodded. “Go ahead.”

        “Is there another way to get your stand?”

        It was Avdol who replied. “There is another way,” the man said. “Although it’s highly unusual and rare for a person to achieve their stand this way.”

        “Really…”

        “Yes, to achieve your stand by this method would require a Stand Arrow and an incredibly strong spiritual strength. The Arrow would only need to pierce the user to awaken their stand, although I heard the process is quite painful.”

        Kyogen nodded curtly. That… sounded very close to what she went through. Kyogen remembered pain, blackness, and waking up hours later with mismatched eyes. Avdol furrowed his brows and was about to say something else but Kyogen was saved by the shoji doors sliding open. Seiko poked her head through and announced, “Dinner is ready everyone!” 

        Sharpnote was called back to her. Kyogen stood up, grabbed her guitar, and headed over to the woman. “Is there perhaps a place where I can put my stuff, Seiko-sama?”

        Seiko nodded. “Of course! You can put your instrument and school bag in the foyer, next to the umbrellas. They’ll be fine there!” 

        Kyogen thanked the woman and did just that, quickly making her way back to the kitchen where Seiko was busy setting down the final touches of various plates. Kyogen rushed to wash her hands and help the woman carry the plates over to the large dining table. The others were slowly filling into the large space and Kyogen realized once again how massive these people were. Jotaro and Joseph were the tallest, followed by Avdol, then Kakyoin, Holy, and finally Kyogen. 

        The others, except for Jotaro, tried to help out Seiko but were waved away. Kyogen had long ignored the older woman’s protests, feeling obligated to help her in return for the meal. She was the last one to sit down, doing so stiffly. It was strange, sitting at a dining table with other people, so full of life and laughter. It was stranger to realize that most of these people had stands like her.

        If anyone noticed her silence, they didn’t comment on it as dinner passed by. The food was delicious and Kyogen thanked Seiko profusely as they cleaned up. Now it was time for her to head back “Seiko-sama, thank you so much for dinner. I must head out now, as I feel like I’ve overstayed my welcome here.” Kyogen bowed deeply.

        “Are you sure you don’t want to stay, dear? It’s dark out,” the woman fretted.

        “It’s alright, Seiko-sama. I can walk home from here.”

        It seemed like a lightbulb went off in her head and the woman told Kyogen to wait there and rushed off. The girl shrugged and pulled on her shoes, grabbing her bags and patiently remaining in the same spot. Seiko returned with two more people in tow. A patient Kakyoin and a grumpy Jotaro greeted her. 

        “Since it’s late, and Wind-chan has to head home, why don’t you two walk her back?”

        Kyogen’s eyes widened. “It’s no need Seiko-sama! I’m perfectly capable of making the trip back!”

        “I think that it’s better if you had some company, Wind-san.” Kakyoin agreed with Seiko.

        Jotaro scowled and simply tilted his hat down. “If she says she can take care of herself, let her. I don’t get why you’re so insistent.”

        Seiko just made males put on shoes and pushed the teens out of the doors. “Stay safe!”

        Kyogen exhaled and didn’t wait for the other two. “If you don’t want to, it’s alright,” she said, waving a hand dismissively. “I can walk home by myself.”

        Surprisingly, the two followed her and Kyogen found herself in the middle as they headed back to where she lived. It was colder tonight and Kyogen hoped that it wasn’t going to be a camp-outside-the-house sort of night.

        They reached her home in stiff, uncomfortable silence and Kyogen turned to them. “We’re here. Thank you for walking me home. I hope you two have a good night.” When neither of them moved, Kyogen raised an eyebrow and said, “Aren’t you two going to leave?”

        “Aren’t you going to go inside?” Kakyoin asked her.

        “Well yes, but unless you want to watch me climb a tree and through a window, you can leave.”

        “Yare, yare. Why are you climbing the fucking window?” Jotaro asked.

        Kyogen shrugged. “No keys, no admission.”

        “Good grief.”

        She decided that it was getting too cold now so after a respectful nod, Kyogen turned and made her way through the yard to the large tree neighboring her window. Unslinging her guitar, Kyogen waited for Sharpnote to appear in the branch above her. Once she saw the spirit form, the girl tossed her guitar up into the air where the stand was able to catch it. With guitar out of the way, Kyogen backed up and took a running leap and grabbed the branch base. She swore she felt hands of some sort boosting her up. 

        Now on the branch, Kyogen looked back to see the boys still there. “Hey, you should really leave before it starts getting suspicious,” Kyogen called down to them. She turned around and carefully made her way to her room window, opening it and slipping inside. The next part was arguably the trickiest, as one wrong move would lead to her, the guitar, or Sharpnote ending up in pieces on the ground below. 

        Kyogen was never sure how much weight the branch could handle, but she didn’t want to find out the hard way. This meant that Sharpnote would have to toss the guitar to her and hope that everything would end well. Kyogen extended out her arms, ready to catch the guitar but the green humanoid she saw coming from Kakyoin earlier appeared next to Sharpnote. The stand made beckoning motions and Sharpnote handed it the guitar and disappeared. 

        With a flourish, the green stand floated over to her window and presented Kyogen with her instrument. Kyogen took it, slightly shell-shocked about the turn of events. She leaned out the window to see the stand retreat back to Kakyoin. “Hey,” Kyogen called out, in a moment of vulnerability. “Will I see you two again?”

        The males below her paused. Jotaro pulled down his hat and Kakyoin turned around to give her a thumbs up. Kyogen nodded and closed the window. She slid down to a seat against the wall, trying to come to terms with today’s events. 

        There were other people who had these spirits. 

        They weren’t works of the devil. 

        She wasn’t cursed as her mother said.

        She wasn't alone.

#SO #I FINALLY DID IT #IT'S REALLY LONG BTW #I'M SORRY IT STARTS OFF KINDA SLOW I SWEAR THINGS WILL PICK UP SOON. #oc insert #part 3 stardust crusaders #sdc oc #jjba fanfic #jojo's bizarre adventures fanfic #Let Down Your Crystal Walls Chapter 1 #my works

[moonlightreal]

Let’s watch in Italian!

Let’s watch some Winx Club in Italian!  I know no Italian but I can comment on the visuals and guess at what they’re saying.  And I’m super impatient for more Winx and not in the mood to type my fanfic or sew more right now.

There will be real episode summaries/reactions when the English episodes come out.

Hit raiplay to watch along—at the moment season 8 has episodes 16-21 though that may change at any time.

19 La Torre Oltre le Nuvole

Italian theme song! My favorite theme is the first but season 4 and 6 are other favorites. Season 8s is fun too, not as forgettable as some.

Flying!  Cowboy flying!  Even Stella seems to be having fun by now.  I like Bloom’s hat, it has mismatched wings on it.

The girls fly down towards some islands… and there’s Diaspro running up to Bloom! Neither is thrilled to see the other.  I wish I knew what they said, I think Disa is giving a sob story-- I would expect it to be a sob story about herself but… no!  Points to Diaspro, she’s told them that Sky is in danger.  And there he is, running from the black unicorn who keeps zapping him with fire!

Sky trips and falls!  His doom approaches!

I think the Winx direct their steeds to fly down and help sky, but they won’t. They’re scared of the black unicorn.  Aisha says they should transform and fly down themselves but Flora has a better idea.  She talks to the trees… it doesn’t work, too much negative energy.

Poor Sky dodges some more zaps.

Bloom’s unicorn dives down, it’s trailing rainbow colored sparkles.  Then the other winx unicorns get brave enough, they kind of circle the black one trailing rainbows.  I think this is unicorn positivifying magic! Heroic music plays!  Bloom uses her bond with her unicorn, I think, and they glow all sparkly.  All the winx unicorns fly in formation making a rainbow in the sky.  Sparkles fall on the black unicorn and he lights up all rainbowy before returning to his usual color.  He’s saved!

The girls land, and Bloom makes sure Sky is ok.  Tecna snaps her fingers and fixes Sky’s suit, love that.

Aisha goes to say hello to the black unicorn, but even rescued he’s a little standoffish.  Here come the unilumens and I think they’re telling the story of the black unicorn.  I think he has a tragic past.

Diaspro joins the party and shuts Bloom down when she tries to talk, then says some Diaspro-ish things to Sky.  Flora hides her face in her hat.  Ooooh, I bet Diaspro just referenced how long she and Sky have been out unchaperoned.  Bloom’s pissed.  Diaspro snarks back.  Sky is embarassed, yeah I bet you are Sky you let her lead you all over the magic dimension.

The black unicorn suddenly advances on Diaspro, who backs away in terror.  then—it licks her face and crouches down to let her mount!  I wish I knew what Diaspro and the lumens were saying, but it seems this unicorn has chosen Diaspro!  She mounts and they fly away.  Diaspro calls something back—but is it, “I’m turning over a new leaf, I’m gonna spend time with creatures who want to be around me!” or is it, “Now I’ve got unicorn power, I’ll win Sky’s heart in season nine!”  Which is it?  I don’t know!  Will she still have a unicorn friend next time she comes to bring the couple drama to our show?  Sadly, probably not, but it would be way cooler if she did!

Stella’s just glad that’s over.

Bloom gives Sky a stare.  The two of them go, ‘hmmf!’ and look away from each other.  I groan.

Flora tries to distract from all this and get everybody back on track for the mission and the rest of the Winx get on board, though Stella says something dumb first.

Sky and Bloom argue.  

Just dump him Bloom, a guy who doesn’t have the backbone to avoid the ex he hates is about as bad as one who actually still likes the ex.

We escape from that and go flying some more!

The Trix watch from the ground.  They chat a bit then go flying after the Winx.

Flying.  Bloom and Sky argue.  he’s flying with his suit wings, not sharing a unicorn.

Magic barrier ahead!  The unicorns light their horns up in a cool visual effect and the barrier opens.  Everyone flies through.

They emerge in what looks like the same place except up ahead is a floating island with a horn-shaped tower.  So I guess they went to a different part of Monocerous.  A purple light shines from a window at the top of the tower.

Instead of just flying there, the unicorns drop the girls off at the bottom of the tower.  ‘Cause you gotta dungeon crawl, you can’t just start at the final room! The girls thank them, and the unicorns fly away.

And then the skies grow stormy!  Sky and Stella have to jump back from a lightning strike.

And there’s our new favorite Trix!  With the other two.

Cosmix time!  The ops I love more in Italian but the transformation songs I don’t care about the language as much.  Except Sirenix, because Sirenix.

Aisha makes a BIG morphix bubble around the Winx, but Darcy takes her out pretty quick so I guess she overreached herself.

Battle battle fighting fighting, we’ll get the prime star first…

Icy does the smart thing and flies towards the top of the tower.  Sky confronts her and Icy… slaps him with a giant ice cube!  Ahahaha!

Bloom sees her sweetie flying through the air stuck to a giant ice cube… but Sky uses his suit and unsticks himself.  He and Icy grab for the prime star!  They’ve both grabbed it!  Purple light explodes out of the tower!

Bloom’s flying up to help when she gets whooshed into the purple and the she’s in this… rainbowy iridescent space?  The background looks like the glittery cosplay fabric I buy for twenty bucks a yard, but only if I have a really good coupon.

In this magic-space Sky is flying, dodging spears of ice.  Icy has some good minimal magic gestures too, she’s summoning big ice stalagmites with just a flick of her finger.  I guess the animators haven’t seen Frozen. Sky is trapped.  Bloom is upset!

Oh no, Bloom can either help Sky or go after the prime star, which will she choose? She looks back and forth.  Sky, to his credit, is trying to escape for himself.  He tells Bloom to go after the prime star.

Cool epic fight music!  Bloom summons her fire dragon, we see it grow out of her hand.  She sends the dragon after Icy while she grabs the prime star. Sky does something with his suit and he lights up and busts out of the ice prison.  Hooray!  In Italian i think Sky did the “yelling the name of your attack” thing when he lights up his suit.

The star case appears and the star tells them something, I presume about how they got the star because they trusted each other.

Icy comes back for more… but the Winx are ready.  Flora blows away all three Trix with a petal storm.  We’re blasting off again!

The girls congratulate themselves.

Their unicorns and the unilumens fly by overhead, and Twinkle flies down to join them.

Now would be a good time for… a concert!  With only Sky as the audience.  Twinkle briefly sits on Sky’s head, which is adorable, then she sits in his arms.  I love that, I always felt there wasn’t enough sitting on each other when the girls had their pixies, you know?  It seems like the kind of bond that would lead to snuggling, like with kittens.

The girls sing, the unicorns fly overhead, Sky nods in time to the music, then he and Bloom have a romantic moment.

Next time: Winxboards!  Mielle!  A giant… pokemon?

20 Il cuore verde di Lynphea

Green Heart of Lynphea, I can understand that just from being Latin-based languages.

Alfea!  Grizelda is giving a lecture in some place with really big plants.  isn’t there a greenhouse that’s like, a portal to another realm with giant plants?  Grizelda conjures a book with old-style botanical drawings of plants inside and an oak leaf on the cover.  The page it opens to has a blue flower and a pomegranate.  

I want to hear more even if I can’t understand it, but the camera follows Flora to an area with normal-sized flowers.

Grizelda lectures. Aisha follows Flora.  Flora’s checking out a bush with buds on it. Aisha magics the buds—but instead of blooming, they stick out their tongues at her!  Hah!  Grizelda comes over and tells Aisha off for using random magic, I assume.

Bloom has a great idea.  Is it a concert?  Every idea Bloom has this season is a concert.

Tecna touches a flower and it slaps her hand with a little vine.  Flora explains… something to Tec.

Stella sings a line to a flower, then talks in a slow hypnotic voice as she tries some magic.  The flower spits water at her.

Grizelda gives them a lecture about not upsetting the plant life.

Star case!  We’re going to Lynphea!  Flora’s happy she’ll get to see her sister.

Valtor’s asteroid!  We’re going to Lynphea!  Stormy lords it over her sisters that she found the prime star.  Darcy has to get between her and Icy.  Valtor opens a portal, but Darcy hangs back after her sisters go through, giving Valtor a significant look.  Hmm.

Winxboarding!  They land at Flora’s house and there’s Mielle!  She’s wearing the outfit from season 6 but looks like the age from season 3.  I mean, art style yeah, but I’d say she really has de-aged.  She comes up about to flora’s waist.  We’ll see if she transforms.

She’s still as fiesty as ever, she says she’s coming along and calls a giant ladybug.  Flora tells her to stay home where it’s safe, like Flora always does.  Bloom backs Flora up; the Trix are dangerous!  The star case appears and its compass points the way, so the Winx summon their boards and fly off.  Mielle follows on her ladybug, because she’s Mielle.  This is exactly what happened in season 7, isn’t it? Mielle follows and rescues them?  Flora should just let her come along!

Giant flowers! Winxboarding!  A walled garden!  that’s where we’re going!

Flora tells them something worrying about the garden… maybe like how you have to be in tune with nature, which the girls certainly were not back at Alfea.

Then there is some singing.  Even more random than the rest of the singing, because we can’t see who is doing it!

It’s these weird flower people.  They are very weird.

They open the gate into the garden, but before the Winx can run through it grows back closed again.  Flora realizes it’s the dance the flower people did that made the gate open.  Stella magics the girls into these adorable flower ballerina dresses.  Stella’s is the best I think, she’s got orange and yellow that go well together.  Musa has good colors too, the others are a bit too pastel for my taste.

Time to dance!  the girls leap around—en pointe, which normal people cannot just do, you have to train your muscles like a long time.  That’s about the limit of my knowledge of ballet: that it’s a serious physical discipline you have to practice every day.  As they leap about the girls’ skirts twirl independently, so this episode must be to sell a doll line with twirling skirts.  They dance around, leap in the air, dance on giant flowers.  I like the idea that the twirling skirts make them float, that could be a fragment of an idea about clothes that give you powers.  Like Mai’s bracelets in Mai-hime, they float out from her arms and she can fly with them.  The visual is neat.

It works!  The gate opens!  The Trix arrive just a minute too late, the Winx have gone through.

Darcy summons an illusion of the dancing Winx to make the gate open.  Go Darcy, that is smart!  Also how did she do that?  I guess they were watching the Winx dance and recreated what she saw.

The inside of this place I’ve been calling a walled garden is really neat.  it’s big, it has many levels and a bridge… it reminds me of a Starcastle!  That’s what it looks like.  It also looks like a wedding cake with several tiers.  On top is a very important heart grown with vines.  that’s where the prime star will be!  There are stairs and paths through the different gardens to get there.

The star case appears and disappears.  The flower people, who I think are called lillin, come to guide the winx to the top.

Up one set of stairs!  The lillin give the Winx seeds which sprout when they put them down.

Next garden! Lillin raking very small gardens and… aloe leaves with giggling faces?  That was weird.

The girls reach the heart at the top!  they’re basically walking on tiptoe even while wearing ballet flats.  The heart has a door in it and Bloom is sure this is where we’ll find the prime star.

Back with Mielle, she’s caught up with the Trix!  She hides behind a bush and listens to them plot.  How’d Mielle get in here?

The Winx now walking flat-footed approach the heart when the ground rumbles and up sprouts a… radish pokemon.  If there were a pokemon based on a radish, this would be it.  This is not the radish spirit in Spirited Away.  It looks friendly at first, then roars at the Winx.

Aisha is keen to try violence but Flora tries talking first.  She gets nowhere. Mielle comes running up then and she and Flora say a few words.

Cosmix time!  We’ll try violence after all!

Flora and Mielle argue, Mielle runs off crying.

Winx vs. radish!

The Trix see Mielle run past and Darcy realizes they can use her as a hostage to get the prime star.  She knows Mielle’s name and that she’s Flora’s sister, which is creepy to me.  Mielle gets zapped with Darcy-magic.

Winx vs radish! Bloom does her dragon, which goes right through the critter, which then falls to the ground as an actual radish.  That fight ended fast!

But here’s Icy and Stormy!  As they face the Winx, flora hears Mielle’s voice calling for help.  She abandons the Winx to save her sister.  Flora searches and finds Mielle passed out under a tree.  She says she was attacked by Darcy.

I’m pretty sure this IS Darcy, but Flora heals her sister’s injured leg while the Winx fight the other two.  Flora picks up Mielle and they fly up to the heart.  The rest are still fighting and I think Mielle says Flora should get the prime star while they’re distracted.  This is solid logic and Flora goes into the heart.  

It’s a very leafy room with the prime star floating in its hamster ball in the center. Mielle hops out of Flora’s arms and runs to it—and grabs it and turns into Darcy.  And laughs and flies off.

So Darcy can change her weight when she uses an illusion; Flora was carrying her and the real Darcy would weigh the same as Flora.

The real Mielle wakes up in the forest.  She’s fine, and mad.

The Trix make a clean getaway with the prime star!

Mielle runs up and hugs Flora.  

Next scene the girls are back in their space clothes sitting on the front steps of Flora’s house.  Flora has guilt over being tricked.  Mielle I think says it’s her fault for following, but Flora says something that makes it all right and they smile and laugh.  Mielle conjures a rose that sparkles with magic.

I do kinda like that Mielle didn’t rescue them, so it wasn’t exactly the same plot as last season.  But i wish She’d gotten to get a little revenge on Darcy!

Then we’re back at Alfea and the flowers  from the beginning of the episode have bloomed.  Flora casts a spell and sparkles come spiraling up from them.  She’s wearing the flower that Mielle gave her in her hair, so I guess sisterly love gave her the magic of nature.

Next time: Melody! Musa’s dad!  Riven!  Darcy getting up to more stuff!  Dance Dance Revolution!  Some very strange outfits!

#winx club season 8 #winx club